Revolutions

87 - Haesan

As the fighting around us intensifies, Teqotlo, Aluxeqwel, and Onixem glare at one another in silence. Questions flood my mind as I feebly attempt to grasp what Onixem just said. Those are her parents? Are they part of the Eye in the Flame? But Onixem is a member of the Qente Waila... right?

"Daughter," the woman, Aluxeqwel, says with a hiss. "So nice of you to join us."

Onixem slowly unsheathes a dagger from the harness at her hip. "The moment I discovered the Eye in the Flame were near, I knew you two would come out of the dregs to join your band of lunatics here in Qapauma."

"Ah, yes, as you play at Rebels with your imaginative friends," Aluxeqwel mocks. "How quaint." At this, Onixem snarls, which only amuses Aluxeqwel further. Onixem's mother lets out a theatrical sigh, glancing solemnly at the ritual dagger in her hand before continuing, "I really had hoped you would come to your senses when you were finished challenging our authority. You've gone long enough masquerading as some freedom fighter, but it's time you stopped fooling around and return to your family."

"I have no family so long as you continue to support those cultists," Onixem growls.

"This is the rare moment where I wished you were more like your brother," Teqotlo says. "He's completely useless, but at least he knows when to get out of the way."

"Where is Tonatli?" Onixem demands, searching the chamber. Her eyes shift between the two in crimson robes, who remain unresponsive and unemotional. This irks Onixem, causing her to become more assertive, punctuating each word. "Where. Is. Tonatli."

Before they can respond, two palace guards disengage, slipping away from their clashes with militants loyal to the Eye in the Flame. They charge at Onixem's parents, coiling back with their bronze swords. Teqotlo and Aluxeqwel step back in a slight crouch, their hands gradually coming aflame, with fire creeping up their wrists. As the guards are about to swing, the pair thrust their arms at their approaching targets, the tip of the dagger pointing at their foe, releasing a burst of fire from their hands. The blast sends the two young men flying backward, their leather armor catching fire as if it were mere tinder. They writhe in pain on the ground, rolling about as they desperately try to put out the flames, but the fire refuses to be extinguished.

Onixem glares, overcome with fury. She starts to charge at her parents, but their eyes glow a terrifying red. "You don't want to do that, my child," Aluxeqwel states. The fire that swirls about her hands grows larger. Onixem reluctantly heeds the warnings, sliding to a halt and firmly gripping her dagger until her knuckles turn white.

"Now, where were we?" the female cultist rhetorically asks. In a flash, she and Teqotlo dart over to another set of nobles. They shout something inaudibly again—is it Ulxa?—before slitting their victims' throats, as they had done before. They gasp and gurgle before dropping to their knees, a stream of scarlet spurts from their necks.

Enraged and no longer able to restrain herself, Onixem storms over to her parents, who bend over to pool the victims' blood into their hands. Lowering her shoulder, she rams her mother, knocking her to the ground. As she turns to her father, however, her face is met with the butt of his dagger. It crashes into her forehead, and blood streams down her nose and cheek. She staggers backward, shaking her head to rid herself of the dizziness. With unsteady steps, she makes another attempt at colliding with her father, but he steps aside and easily dodges her efforts. She's tossed into the wall, slamming into it with a mighty thump.

"We warned you not to do that," he halfheartedly scolds.

Helping Aluxeqwel up, the two resume their ritual. They collect their victims' blood, then make a few hand gestures in the air. A bright, ethereal, orange glow radiates from their silhouettes, and they begin illuminating the chamber like living torches. They appear like someone experiencing the warmth of the sun after a long, harsh winter; they grunt and groan, rolling their heads back as though enjoying a surge of power and energy that flows through them.