TRA: A God's Sorrow

Chapter 5: New Opportunities

Grodak

"What do you mean?" Grodak asked, a hint of a snare in his voice. Grodak had been feeling like Grall was hiding something, something important, from him and he did not like it.

"I mean," Grall spoke in a calm and collected voice, "even a young God, like myself, needs to train."

There it was. The secret Grall had been hiding from him. But, for how long has he been sitting on this?

Grodak, out of anger, swung his fist and connected with Gralls chin. Grall, however, did not turn his head or flinch from the hit. Grodak stared in astonishment, the little brother he once pushed around and even harmed. The same brother who had difficulty with a weakened demon and needed his help to keep it in check, now was stronger then him.

"Brother," Grall began, his voice as calm as ever before, "why do you try to hurt me so? All I have done is help you. Is that cause to inflict wounds on me?"

"Gr-Grall," Grodak stumbled over his words, his fear from before now taking hold, "I-I didn't mean anything by-"

"I know you didn't, brother." Grall said, his words likes ice on Grodaks hot temper and flames for Grodaks fear. "If you cannot bring yourself to trust me enough to accept my help, then I shall wish you luck in your endeavors."

With those words, Grall vanished, no doubt returning to the Shadow World to continue his training with whomever his teacher was. Grodak stood in his forge in silence for a few minutes, forcing the bile that had built up in the back of his throat to go down. Other then Cassandra, Grall was the first person to ever make him feel like he was nothing in front of him.

Once Grodak calmed his nerves and pushed the bile back down, he left his forge and wondered to the thrown room. He allowed himself to collapse onto the seat of the thrown and just sat there, wondering why he had always treated Grall as he had back there. As his mind wondered, so did his fingers, feeling all the crevices of the throwns armrest, until he felt a piece sink inwards.

Curious, Grodak stood up from the thrown and leaned down to take a look at the piece. It appeared to be a button of some kind and when pressed, the floor behind the thrown slid open.

"What do we have here?" Grodak asked no one in particular as he walked over to the opening, peering in to find a white hound hooked up to a machine. "What in the blazes is this contraption, Tyril?"

"Its a cloning machine." A voice spoke behind Grodak causing him to turn swiftly on his heels. There, standing in the doorway, was Tyril. He appeared to be exhausted and held one of his sides as if in pain.

"A what?" Grodak asked, he knew full well that if he had rushed to Tyrils side, he would just be pushed away.

"A cloning device." Tyril enunciated his words as if it was a simple device that anyone could, and should, understand. "Its a device that was crafted by the Casarns many years ago, before the second war of races. They used it to create artificial souls that they could use to sustain theirselves with."

Grodak looked at the device in disgust, he could not believe that such a device was created. "Why is it in my castle, then?" Grodak shouted, the fear from before now felt like a distant memory.

"Your castle?" Tyril asked, such venom in his words that Grodak had to stop himself from bolting out of the room. "I do believe this is my castle, I have yet to name a successor. You would be wise to remember that, Grodak."

Grodak felt the same fear he did from Grall over take him. Tyril, even in his weakened state, was a force to be reckoned with.

"At the very least, Grall fully understood that and never questioned me when I asked for something to be done." Tyrils voice calmed a bit as he slouched against the wall. "Anyways, I reperposed the machine to clone animals, but only those that have been turned into wraiths."