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    ObicanDecko
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Book of Venoms - 5. Guardians

Castor and Sawyer seek help from Sephare, a mysterious sorceress. Cyr and Jarin make plans to escape.

Fireborn Scorpion: This rare and curious creature comes from the volatile volcanic islands of Kar Magan, from which it spread across much of the tropics. Unlike most scorpion species, the Fireborn Scorpions are not birthed directly. The female lays eggs near heat sources such as volcanic vents, geysers and sometimes even directly into the fire. In a matter of days, the eggs burst and the scorplings hatch, impervious to fire and heat.

The venom of these predators is not only fatal, but also causes excruciating pain. Once stung, the victim soon begins to feel a searing heat coursing through its body, making it feel as if it is on fire. Once the burning sensation reaches the brain, the victim dies.

There is still no known antidote for the Fireborn Scorpion’s venom, which is known to be a highly reactive and explosive substance. Thus, all attempts to produce a cure have ended in severe burns or even deaths of the unfortunate alchemists who dared to take on such a task.”

--

It was a big day at the small town of Garon’s Well. Nearly all residents were outside, gathered in the streets and at the town square, ready for festivities to begin. It was the same every spring equinox - they celebrated the day in honor of Nammis, the Goddess of Nature, so that she would bless their crops and give them another fertile year. The celebrations would start around midday and last until the wee hours of the night, when even the most jovial and drunken of the townsfolk would return to their homes, tired but satisfied.

On that particular day, spring was already in full force. With sun shining brightly and a pleasant south breeze drifting about, people were in good spirits. There was music coming from the town square, Castor remembered, while a plump old lady with chubby, rosy cheeks was handing out cookies to the children running by. He got one too, as did Cyr and all of their friends.

Delighted with the sweet treats they had just received, the children ran around, laughing and screaming. This was their day - a chance for them to do whatever they want without being told to calm down or stop being so loud.

It wasn’t long before the group of around dozen kids, aged between seven and nine, ran off down the street and ended up in a wide meadow. Castor and Cyr, eight years old at the time, were inseparable. Whenever a game would require groups or pairs, the two of them would always play together, on the same team. Not only were the twins identical in their looks; they also had equal love for each other. Their friends couldn’t tell them apart, but it didn’t even matter - if one of them was there, the other was sure to be nearby.

As the children ran around carelessly around the green field, trying to catch each other, Castor somehow came across a tiny little snake slithering in the grass. He stopped and knelt down, wanting to take a closer look. The creature did not seem scared, as if it sensed that Castor was somehow one of its kind. The boy innocently extended his arm and the animal came closer, allowing Castor to pet it.

Suddenly, a shrill scream just behind Castor startled both him and the snake. Magdalyn, one of the girls from the group stood behind him, mortified at the sight before her. By the time Castor turned back, the frightened animal was gone.

“Nooo, you scared it,” he uttered sadly, looking in the grass in an attempt to locate his new animal friend.

“It was a snake! What were you doing with it anyway?!” the girl asked, disgusted and scared at the same time.

“It was just a baby,” Castor said defensively, his tone soft. “It wouldn’t hurt us.”

Hearing the ruckus, the rest of the group ran over to see what was happening. Of course, Magdalyn wasted no time in informing them that Castor was “playing with a snake!” While some thought that was awesome and brave of him, others looked at him strangely, thinking he was weird.

No matter their reaction, it all seemed to have been forgotten in a matter of minutes, as they continued their wild chase across the meadow. Cyr was the only one who stuck around, taking his brother’s hand.

Aside from their parents, Cyr was the only person who knew about Castor’s shifting ability. The boy discovered he could shift when he was just around two years old. He didn’t remember it, but his parents would sometimes tell him the story of how his mom entered the boys’ room one morning and saw a snake lying in a crib beside Cyr. She screamed her lungs out, waking up her husband who immediately ran over, all sorts of horrible thoughts going through his head. Even though the snake seemed to be peacefully sleeping next to Cyr, the parents were panicking. Where is there other son? And how to get Cyr without disturbing the reptile? As soon as they approached the crib and tried to get their boy out to safety, the snake noticed them and shifted back, taking the form of their other son.

The story was now merely a funny anecdote from the past, but it took a long time for everyone to get accustomed to the fact that they have a shifter in the house. The boys were even forced to be in separate rooms for a while, as their parents were afraid Castor might shift at night and bite Cyr in his sleep without even realizing it. However, both boys knew perfectly well that Castor had complete control over his actions in his animal form and would never harm his brother. After a while, the parents realized it was useless to try and separate the boys. One of them would always sneak out at night to the other’s room anyway. So, after a few months, they went back to sharing a room, and have been doing so since.

“You gotta watch out, Cas,” Cyr whispered, looking at his twin with concern.

“It was only a baby snake,” the other boy explained. “It was harmless.”

“I don’t mean about the snake. I mean about them,” Cyr glanced at the other kids.

“I know. I wish I didn’t have to hide. Mrs. Hinkle’s baby is a little tortoise shifter and she’s already telling everyone,” Castor whined.

“I know, it sucks. These guys are dumb,” Cyr rolled his pretty garnet eyes, identical to his brother’s. “But not everyone will be scared of snakes. I know I’m not! You know, I’ve heard some people even keep them as pets instead of dogs and cats!”

“Really? Wow, that is so nice! Although, I wouldn’t want to be someone’s pet! That would be horrible!”

“I know! You’d be kept in a glass box and have to eat mice!”

“Eww!” Castor made a disgusted face, imagining how awful it would be to have to feed on rats or mice.

The boys chuckled together, returning to their group. Castor was already feeling somewhat better - he always did after talking to his brother. He was so lucky to have him!

All of a sudden, he opened his eyes, finding himself in bed. He then remembered where he was - in one of the rooms in the Dire Wolf Inn.

It was only a dream. A memory of happier times when Cyr and he were together, thick as thieves. Why did things have to change? He had no answer, just like he had no clue how he would rescue his brother. But no matter what, he had to find him.

“Is everything alright?” Sawyer whispered from the floor, where he was lying on a pile of blankets he somehow managed to conjure.

“Yes, go back to sleep,” Castor replied before lying back down. He did not close his eyes. The memories kept replaying in his mind, preventing him from falling asleep again.

“Alright. If you need something, let me know.”

“Thanks,” the shifter replied, feeling a bit better at knowing he wasn’t all alone. Maybe it’s good Sawyer came with me. I wouldn’t be able to do this by myself. But he doesn’t have to know that.

It was early morning when the two boys rose. Sore from sleeping on the floor, Sawyer started stretching. His neck was stiff, but he didn’t mind it. He was the one who offered to sleep on the floor, wanting Castor to be comfortable in bed.

Looking at the other boy, Castor felt a pang of regret at how he had been treating him. Next time, he’s taking the bed and I’ll be on the floor, he decided. Sleeping together was out of the question. Even though he loved the young sorcerer, Castor was still deeply hurt. All of his worst fears and insecurities rose to the surface when he told Sawyer he was a shifter and the boy reacted the way he did. Thus, he decided that separate beds and minimal conversation were the way to go.

“Do you know where that sorceress lives?” Sawyer asked after they got up from the table at the inn where they were eating breakfast. Fried eggs, ham and beer seemed to work like an elixir, curing their hunger, tiredness and any other ailments they might have had. Or maybe they were just that hungry.

“Yes, the bartender explained it to me,” Castor replied, showing a little piece of paper in his hand, on which a simple map was drawn.

“Shall we go then?” the sorcerer asked, as they moved from their table and went to pay for their food and drinks. Luckily, the inn owner accepted bronze and silver coins, as that was all Sawyer had. He still had trouble conjuring gold, except the tiniest of nuggets that wouldn’t be accepted as means of payment even in a backwater town like Nerton.

“Yes, let’s move,” Castor agreed and led the way.

Like most sorcerers seemed to do, Sephare lived further away from the rest of the townsfolk. According to the instructions the innkeeper gave Castor, her house was at the very foothills of the small mountain in close proximity to the town. Even though she mostly kept to herself and seemed to be quite benevolent, rumor has it that she was somewhat eccentric. Add to that the fact that she practiced magic, which some people still feared, and it became obvious why the locals mostly steered clear of her.

Regardless of the rumors, the two boys were determined to pay her a visit and ask for her aid. At the moment, she seemed to be their best chance.

“Ahem,” Sawyer coughed, trying to get Castor’s attention. “Can I ask you something?”

Castor, who was a little further ahead, stopped and turned around for a moment. “Go ahead.”

The sorcerer gave him a shy smile.

“Once we find out where Macarius is, what then?”

“We go and find him,” Castor shrugged, as if telling him the most obvious thing in the world.

“But, how do we get Cyr back? We don’t know what that man is capable of.”

“I don’t know,” the shifter admitted. “I’ll beg him to release my brother if I have to. You don’t have to come. If you want to turn back, I’ll understand.”

“No way. I told you already, I’m not leaving you,” Sawyer was adamant. Even though his magic skills may not be of much use against someone like Macarius, they had better chances together. “Look, we’re almost there,” he said, pointing to the isolated house in the distance.

The dark, wooden cottage had smoke coming out of its large chimney - a sign that someone was home. Hopefully, our journey will not be in vain, the sorcerer thought as they took the narrow stone path that lead to the house.

Castor approached the front door, surrounded by two large bushes on each side. Moments after he knocked, the door opened with a quiet ‘click’ and a tall woman, dressed in a long, dusk blue dress, appeared before the young shifter. Although she looked to be in her thirties, something about her eyes gave the impression that she was much, much older. She looked at the two boys with a questioning smile.

“To what do I owe this pleasure? I have not had visitors since the last waning crescent,” she said in a melodious tone as she placed a hand on her chest. Castor could notice her middle finger had a ring with a leaf-shaped emerald on it.

“We’re sorry to disturb you, Madam. My name is Castor and this is Sawyer. Are you the sorceress Sephare?” Castor spoke politely, which didn’t come hard for him. He had always been considerate and well-mannered. Truth be told, Sawyer was well-behaved too, most of the time, but he would sometimes be hasty and speak without thinking. As funny and endearing as that was to Castor, there were people who found it annoying.

“Indeed,” the woman nodded.

“We were wondering if you could help us?” Sawyer spoke as the woman glanced at him, noticing the wand in his hand.

“And what do you need help with, children?” Sephare asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We wish to find the sorcerer Macarius. He has taken my brother.”

The polite smile vanished from the woman’s face and she moved aside to let the boys enter.

“Well then, you better come in.”

Sawyer stepped first and came inside, but as soon as Castor tried to step on the threshold, several vines appeared from the bushes and wrapped themselves around his arms and legs, preventing his movement.

“What the … Let me go!” the boy yelled, struggling to break free, but in vain.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Sawyer threatened as he turned around and pointed his wand at the sorceress.

Unconcerned, the woman raised her hands to show that she means no harm.

“Calm down, children. It seems as though the Goddess Nammis does not want you in my home,” Sephare mused, looking at Castor. “Why do you think that is?”

~~

Cyr and Jarin could do nothing but sit still and watch as Macarius took Dymia with him. The whirlwind enveloped them and they were gone, leaving the two boys alone. Immediately, the scorpion shifter turned to Cyr with fire in his eyes.

“Why did he call you a snake?” he asked, while Cyr tried to avoid making eye contact.

“I don’t know,” the black-haired boy replied, looking at the ground. He knew he was in big trouble and the last thing he needed was for this foolish, quarrelsome boy to make things even harder.

“Lies! You’re a shifter too, aren’t you?” Jarin asked, refusing to let the subject go. “Why did you say you weren’t?”

“Because I’m not! Why does it matter to you anyway?” Cyr spat angrily. He did not like it when people called him a liar. Not to say he never lied, but he very rarely got caught. He was just that good at it. However, now he was not only going to get caught, but it would also likely cost him dearly.

“It doesn’t,” Jarin brushed him off. “But if we’re going to escape this place, do you not think we should cooperate? That is our best chance of getting out of here, and I am telling you right now, I do not intend to perish in this … this prison!”

By the end of his rant, the orange-haired boy had started yelling. He was getting increasingly irritated with Cyr, who did nothing to make things easier, but he was also annoyed at himself. How could he allow himself to get caught by that bloody sorcerer?! He had barely escaped from one tyrant and now he’s fallen in the hands of another. All he wanted was to live his own life without expectations placed upon him by others. However, if he didn’t manage to escape, he would probably have no life to speak of.

“Are you finished?” Cyr looked at him with an unimpressed look on his face. “If you are, could you be quiet and let me think?”

“So, you do not wish to work together? Very well. Good luck when Macarius comes for you, expecting you to turn into a snake,” Jarin shot back, keeping his distance. “When he realizes you can’t, he will waste no time with you. You’ll be dead.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Cyr hissed at him, slamming his fist in the sand he was sitting on. “My time is up as soon as he realizes it is my brother he wants,” he added, whispering in fear of being overheard.

“Your brother?”

“Yes, I have a twin brother. Macarius obviously took me by mistake,” Cyr explained, hoping he did not make a grave mistake by confiding in this boy who was little more than a stranger to him. “Once he is aware of that, he will surely dispose of me and go after Castor!”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” Jarin said, glancing at the other boy with sympathy. “But that is just one more reason why we should escape as soon as possible.”

“I know, and I have an idea,” Cyr replied, getting up. The shifter looked at him questioningly, following his lead.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, the ceiling is made of glass,” Cyr said, looking up and seeing the small piece of night sky visible through the ceiling. Freedom. “Maybe we can break it and try to climb out.”

“It’s worth a try,” Jarin agreed, grabbing one of the larger rocks from the ground and looking up. The glass covering seemed too high.

“Try aiming above this tree. We can climb the branches and get out that way.”

“Alright. Here we go,” the shifter narrowed his eyes and swung, throwing the rock high up into the air. As it hit the glass above the tall tree, the rock simply fell back down, leaving but a small crack in the ceiling.

The loud crashing sound broke the silence of the night, making the boys freeze in fear. What if someone heard it? Who knows what fate would await them If Macarius caught them trying to escape.

The two boys stood unmoving for a few more moments, afraid to make even the slightest noise. However, no one came, so Cyr knelt down to find more rocks.

“It’s too thick,” he shook his head. “We need to try again, with a bigger rock this time.”

“I don’t know how many more attempts we have before someone eventually hears us. It’s too risky,” Jarin whispered.

“I know. But if we stay here-”

“You’re right. We’re likely doomed anyway. Alright, give me the rock, I’ll try again,” Jarin nodded, taking the large stone from Cyr’s hand.

Aiming at the same spot he hit the first time, Jarin threw the rock with all his might. He had been trained in combat, strength and endurance since he was seven, and his aim was excellent.

There was another loud crash, freezing the hearts of both boys, but this time it was worth it! A small part of the glass shattered and fell in pieces down on the ground below the tree, leaving an opening that seemed enough for a person to climb through.

“Shit. If someone heard this, we’re in trouble,” the shifter whispered, glancing at the door. He expected Macarius to appear at any moment, but no one came. He was likely busy with Dymia, Jarin realized, wondering what he was doing to that poor girl. He felt sorry for her, but was also immensely glad he wasn’t in her shoes. Better her than me, that’s for sure.

“Let’s go,” Cyr spoke quietly, careful not to step on the broken glass. “I’ll climb first and you can help push me up. Then I’ll pull you out.”

“Wait, why do you get to go first?” Jarin asked suspiciously. “I help you get out and then you leave me here? I don’t think so.”

“Fine, then you can shift and get on top of me. I’ll carry us out,” Cyr muttered impatiently. They had no time to waste. “Just don’t sting me!”

“I won’t,” the other boy replied and shifted into a scorpion, climbing on Cyr’s back and latching onto the boy’s robe.

Reaching for the lowest branch, Cyr began to climb the tree. He used to be an expert at this when he was a kid. Together with Castor and their friends, he would spend long summer days and evenings playing on the farm and the nearby fields, running around and climbing trees. He was so dumb and naive back then, but so happy.

Willing himself not to look down, he finally reached the tallest branch, just below the ceiling. Extending his arm, he managed to reach the glass surface and hoisted himself up. At last, he was out! The cool wind immediately hit his face and he welcomed it. It felt so good to be out in the open once more.

With the dawn slowly approaching, Jarin shifted back into his human form and stood on the roof next to Cyr. There they were, on top of the Citadel of Bone. There was not a single building in sight, only vast desert and mountains stretching all around them.

The stony roof of the large fortress was flat and square, with four towers in each corner. At the very edge of each tower, a single stone statue stood, facing outward, as if on the lookout. They were bird-shaped, as far as Cyr could see.

“What now?” he asked, trying to figure out which way to go. Now that they were out, he had no idea how to actually climb down.

“I don’t know, let’s look around. Maybe there are some ladders or stairs somewhere,” Jarin suggested. “Look, over there!” he shouted, as he thought he saw a way down.

As soon as he uttered those words, he heard a strange noise, as if stone being crumbled. Immediately, he felt a strong grip on his arm, which almost made him jump. Looking around, he saw it was only Cyr. The boy was pointing at one of the towers, with a nervous look on his dark face.

“I think we better run,” Cyr whispered and Jarin finally saw what upset the boy so much.

The four stone statues have started slowly turning around to face them, revealing their hideous faces. They weren’t birds after all.

“Gargoyles!” Jarin gasped, as the stone creatures spread their wings, ready to take flight and seize the escaped prisoners. Their grotesque faces were terrifying, and their bulging eyes were all locked onto the two boys.

“Quickly,” Cyr ordered, slipping down the opening in the glass where they came from, holding onto a tree branch.

Just as the four gargoyles took off and went for the boys, Jarin quickly followed and went back inside, holding onto a branch for dear life. With adrenaline coursing through their bodies, the boys climbed down the tree and fell down onto the sand-covered floor, trying to catch their breaths. Looking up at the sky, they could see the stone guardians circling above them a few more times before disappearing.

“It’s my fault,” Jarin said. “I think they heard me when I yelled.”

Of course it’s your fault, Cyr thought, a glum expression on his face. You couldn’t keep your big mouth shut. Still, he chose to be diplomatic and not escalate the situation further.

“You couldn’t have known,” he said. “We’ll just have to be more careful next time.”

Next time, I will get out. Before Macarius finds out the truth.

Big thanks to all my readers! ^_^ Stay tuned for more!
Copyright © 2019 ObicanDecko; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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