The Flames of Thotus: Dreams

Prologue

"Where is it?" the hooded man said, his venomous voice quietly echoing against the marble walls of the canvassed room.

"I don't know," Venias said. "I wasn't the one guarding it." His fingers felt clammy as he rubbed them together anxiously, trying to wipe the sweat away.

The deep purple of the sky peered in from the stained-glass windows dotting the ceiling. Venias could only see a thin-lipped smile slithering out from under the man's hood. Everything else was bathed in purple shadow. Swallowing back his fear, he faintly stood his ground as the man slowly walked toward him, that unwavering smile seething through him like poison. Venias' mouth was dry sand, his knees rattling in their sockets. The hooded man's voice almost made him jump, but he listened quite intently nonetheless.

"How did it feel?" He paused and cocked his head. "When you held it, I mean. Did you feel like a God? Did you feel like one of the ancient ones? I bet its power coursed through your veins at the mere sight of it."

Venias stood there, knowing the feeling, remembering the surging rush of warmth he felt when he held his hands around it. He dared not say he could feel history itself pulsing through his body, but remembered the feeling as if it were still there, hovering quietly in the palms of his hands. How he wished right now that he did have it. The salvation it would offer him against this beast. It was almost enough to charge him head on and rip him apart. Almost.

"Answer me, you pious piece of trash. What does it feel like?"

"I-I just...I don't remember," Venias managed to say in between quick bursts of gasps. He felt so cold, yet he couldn't keep the salty beads of sweat from trickling into his mouth.

Before he knew it, the man was on top of him, pushing the wind out of him. His head hit the floor with a crunch. Dazed and subdued, he managed to focus his vision to the assailant. His eyes were as lethal as his smile, a bright blue stare as sharp as crystals seething back at him.

"You know something, Venias? We are all nothing more than beasts. You and I, and the rest of the Historians. All of humanity is one big joke. Your Gods play with us, pit us against each other for their amusement. Even now, is it not just the will of your Gods to have me kill you? If not, Oh-ho-ho, they better stop me soon, then."

Venias couldn't find his voice. He could only stare as the veins on the man's neck sharpen with every word, his eyes manically twitching back and forth. The man smirked. "What are we? Just play things for your gods? Primitive beasts that like to act like we're civilized? NO!"

The cold dagger felt hot as it pierced through Venias' shoulder, instantly spraying red droplets across the floor like a painting. He tried to let out a scream, but the man covered his mouth and stifled it, pressing his thin lips against Venias' ear.

He harshly whispered, "Gods, humans, kings, legends, Ancient Ones, I'm going to destroy those titles. All of them. And a man like you, well, you will die like the rest."

Venias could feel the jagged carving from the dagger, sliding back and forth against his shoulder bone. His body squirmed on the floor in agony as he desperately tried using his other hand to reach for the man's throat. Before he could, the man quickly yanked the dagger out of his shoulder and backed away, eyes wide with excitement. Venias grabbed his wound instead and rolled back and forth on the floor, screaming violently.

"I will ask you one last time, where is the flame? Answer me, and I may be inclined to let you keep your arm."

Venias couldn't regain his composure to even speak. He could feel, taste, smell his own pain. Shredding, piercing pain. His arm throbbed, his mind raced but he couldn't keep looking at his fingers being soaked with his own blood. So, he helplessly squeezed his eyes closed.