Revolutions

121 - Saqatli

The sickening sound of dark, ominous chanting as the shadowy figures in red robes emerge seems to wrap around my chest, constricting tighter with every step they take. The ethereal blue light glowing behind them casts eerie shadows that writhe and twist like the powerful eels in Auilqa rivers. My stomach churns as I imagine the completion of their ritual, its dark power poised to unleash unspeakable pain and torment upon the people of Pachil.

"What do we do?" is all I can muster from my lips. Yet, because no one else speaks the Auilqa tongue, only Noch responds. She hisses, arcing her back and prepared to fight. I plead for her to not do anything reckless, and to wait until a plan is formed.

Tlexnín snarls at the sight. "They have lured us in," I hear her say, thanks to Noch staying behind, much to my relief. "We must bring the fight to them and put an end to these blights on Ulxa."

"Wait," Walumaq urges, holding out a hand. "We can't rush in there yet until we know what we're about to face. What is that blue flame? And what terrible feat does the chanting precede?"

"Tlexnín is right," Paxilche says, stepping forward and looking ahead at the grim scene. "If we don't disrupt whatever it is they're doing, they could bring forth something disastrous and insurmountable."

"Look at them," Tlexnín insists with a growl. "They are too focused on performing the ritual. We have the element of surprise!"

The eyes of Walumaq narrow as she studies the cultists. "Surprise won't mean much if we don't know how to counter their magic. That blue flame... it's not natural. It could be a protective ward, a signal... or worse."

Paxilche clenches his fists as his jaw tightens. "Then we need to find a way to disrupt them without getting ourselves killed. Maybe we can cause a distraction, something to break their concentration."

We investigate the scene, looking for any clues to lead us to a solution that will stop this maniacal chanting. But our search is cut short when a terrible rumbling quakes the ground beneath us. We exchange nervous and terrified looks between ourselves, silently questioning what is happening.

"We are too late," Tlexnín snarls.

She and the band of Sanqo warriors lead a group of Ulxa warriors sprinting toward the source of the disturbance. Startled by this abrupt act, Paxilche and Walumaq take off, while Noch and I hurriedly chase after them.

Another tremor nearly knocks us all off balance and off our feet. The intense chanting grows louder and louder, the horrendous sounds stealing my breath. Flashes of orange spring up from the temple, blending in with the blue glow to make the air itself shimmer with unnatural hues. The terrain beneath us feels alive, pulsing in rhythm with the chanting, as if the very grounds of Analoixan are being awakened by the ritual.

Beyond the temple, unseen forces stir. The trees sway violently despite the still air, and the remnants of buildings in the city seem to groan in agony. Shadows dance and bend in the periphery, hinting at forms too terrible to fully comprehend.

Tlexnín refuses to let the disturbance disrupt her desire to storm the temple. She raises her spear high, shouting something that draws deafening war cries from her fellow Ulxa, briefly drowning out the guttural chanting. Undeterred, they race toward the sound, weapons raised.

You should know that I follow behind reluctantly, my heart hammering with each step. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down as the ground quivers beneath my feet. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my mind racing with images of unspeakable horrors. The voice of Noch reaches my ears, likely offering words of encouragement, but they are overwhelmed by the roaring fear that grips me. The chants of this dark cult reverberate through my chest, and I can barely hold my focus.