Chaos Theory [Quest]

[Klarion]

It felt almost surreal, like a fever dream or a nightmare or something caught in between. They’d been in Karim for months now, never once straying from within the city’s walls, and all of a sudden they’re going to pack up and leave?

Ty Lee watched as Zeke and Ji'hira tore down the tent she’d called home on many a dry, cold desert night, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. A few people passed by, obviously noting the street performer troupe’s departure from the markets, but they never spared anything more than a quick glance. It was like they wouldn’t be missed at all. Just another group of rowdy, dirty wanderers trying to turn a quick buck, leaving at the first sign that they might find greener pastures somewhere else.

Twisting her braid between her fingers, Ty Lee frowned. She was… sad wasn’t the right word for how she felt, but she was feeling something and it was nowhere near pleasant.

The truth of the matter was, it probably wouldn’t have bothered her so much if they’d been moving around right from the start like a real traveling circus, but she’d thought they were pretty well-established here in the city. She’d even come to know some of the locals; the tea shop lady at the corner of the market had even started giving her a discount for playing pattycake with her toddler grandson! Why did they have to leave now? There were people she’d miss in Karim.

Zeke looked over at her, sweat dripping from beneath his head wrappings and into his eyes. He smiled at her, teeth seemingly impossibly white against his deep gold elven skin. The smile faded when Ty Lee was only able to muster up a small smile in return— more of a weak cringe, if anything.

The elf lightly tapped Ji'hira on the arm, drawing the broad-shouldered Khajiit’s attention. Ji’hira followed his gaze to Ty Lee, her feline features pinched in confusion. Shrugging, the brown-furred and tiger-striped warrior turned away, back muscles straining as she went back to tearing down the metal trapeze set Ty Lee has spent literal hours practicing on.

That rickety old set of bars had always shimmied in the wind, and creaked, and in general seemed massively unsafe, but that was just part of its charm. She’d never felt more free than when she was performing tricks a couple dozen feet above the ground, swinging around like a sparrow flits between flimsy tree branches.

A stinging heat built behind her eyes, dry as the desert. She was really going to miss this place.

“Hey, Ty Lee. You good?” Zeke asked, lifting a waterskin to his mouth to take a few eager pulls from it. An array of silver metal rings, no jewels in sight, glinted across his knuckles. He’d discarded his glittering cape and robe ensemble for a simple light brown tunic, altogether a far more breathable option for walking around in the desert heat. Like Ty Lee’s own clothes, though she knew Zeke’d prefer to be wearing his showman’s ensemble all day long.

The heat of the day was evident in his flushed cheeks and the few strands of sweat-soaked hair she could see sticking out from his head coverings, though his green eyes gleamed brighter than ever, focusing on her with genuine concern.

Ty Lee cringed internally. Ack, he’d set aside the time to check in with her and everything! She really shouldn’t have made things any harder on him and Ji’hira— they’d both been so good to her, taking her in, showing her the ropes in this weird new world, giving her a purpose. But, still—

“I just don’t get it!” Ty Lee exclaims, gesturing with both arms at the open-air market around them. “What does this Uruk place have that Karim doesn’t? The name sounds like someone throwing up in their mouth!”

Her elven friend blinked, startled by her outburst. “Well, uh, for one… a new audience. And that means new money. Uruk’s king put out a notice welcoming anyone into their city, so we’ll be getting the jump on any other traveling bands moving in for the kill,” said Zeke. He shrugged then, smiling a bit bashfully. “Plus, I think it’ll be good for our little group. A real fresh start.”

That might’ve been true, Ty Lee supposed, and if anyone was going to know anything about stuff like this, it would absolutely be Zeke. Zeke was more of a showman than Ty Lee and Ji’hira combined. He had the right flair for it. While Ty Lee liked attention, she was less sure about strutting around and attempting to hype people up for her own performances. Zeke was the reason people stopped in their shopping to come see what all the fuss was about. Ty Lee and Ji’hira were what they stuck around for, though Zeke did a lot of prancing around and boasting to keep them on the hook.

Ty Lee sighed. “I don’t know… it’s just, it’s so sudden. I haven’t even gotten used to this place, Zeke!”

It wasn’t something they talked about much. Where she was from, her past. How she ended up here at all.

(Waking up in the middle of the desert, confused and alone. The sound of several buzzards squawking as she attempted to sit up, bleary-eyed and terrified, unsure of where she’d been, who she was meant to be fighting.

And then, a voice. A shock of white hair, so pale it looked practically translucent in the sunlight.

“Yo, kid? You alive in there?”)

“I understand that it’s hard,” said Zeke, snapping Ty Lee out of the wayward memory. He coughed, seeming almost embarrassed. “Well, not really. I was born here, so I won’t ever truly understand. But I can see how this is hard on you, and that you feel most comfortable here. If you really want to, I can put you up at an inn or something for a while. I think I have enough coin saved up to pay for a week’s stay or so. But, uh, after that… we go our separate ways.”

The young girl bit her lip and fiercely shook her head, braid swinging wildly with the movement. “No, I don’t want that. I guess I’m just nervous. Cold feet, you know? I’ve heard people talking around the markets and this place is so big. I’m not a huge fan of getting lost in the desert…” she trailed off with a tinkling laugh.

Zeke was all too eager to reciprocate with a chuckle of his own, almond-shaped eyes glittering. “I know what you mean! Mesa Roja is immense, and that’s not even bringing all the other worlds into it. The Crossroads are truly a marvelous place—”

Ty Lee tuned him out, only feeling a little bad about it. When Zeke really got into it, he could talk for hours on end. Besides, Ty Lee had other things on her mind.

It had almost been a relief, once she was settled, to learn about how people sometimes just appeared in the Crossroads, totally out of the blue. It was a relief that there was no longer a war to worry about, no prison cells to rot in, no wrathful Azulas to appease. For the first time in what felt like forever, Ty Lee was free.

But this particular kind of freedom didn’t taste very sweet. This freedom meant no family. No sisters. No connections… and out of all the various kinds of people she’d encountered thus far, no benders whatsoever. It was like she was a character cut out from a painted scroll, separated from where she rightly belonged. Sometimes, it was hard not to feel well and truly alone.

Something else bothered her about this whole situation, too. Something that niggled at the back of her mind, a constant and persistent weight on her thoughts.

What if… someone she knew was here? Like, someone she’d known. In her world.

Now that was a scary idea...

 

[Gilgamesh]

Gilgamesh retreated back into his chambers, after washing off all of the stress, dirt, blood, and sweat from the previous day’s trials. He opened the balcony doors, letting the desert breeze trickle into his bedroom. He closed his eyes and embraced the soothing feeling of the night. The moon hung overhead, giving off its dim light. His gaze lingered for only a second more before he turned back, ready to enjoy the luxurious blankets that he had especially commissioned.

As he gently laid his head against the pillow, the weight of the day dragged down his eyelids. The light satin blanket caressed his body. With all of his comforts and exhaustion, it only took a few seconds before he fell in a deep and heavy sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, a hazy fog surrounded him. The sky outside was in a weird twilight, unusual for Mesa Roja. Suddenly, he was out in the streets with no recollection of how he got there. However, instead of clay, Mesopotamian buildings, the city was chrome and futuristic. Its denizens were weird looking, blue aliens, who were calmly living their lives. Looking towards the sky, that the could see that the sun had been eclipsed by an unknown astrological object. Darkness flooded the streets. The aliens fled into a panic, screaming as shadows from the darkness lashed out in each direction. People and even entire buildings were eaten by the dark.

Gil could vaguely hear someone cry out, “The temple!” as he saw a small child disappear forever. He was then brought to a mysterious temple, where an alien in religious clothing was yelling for survivors to rush into the holy site. A mother was rushing with her baby towards the temple, barely outrunning the darkness that chased her. She tripped and fell, wailing in fear. Gilgamesh could feel the pain when the holy alien had to close the temple entrance, leaving the mother to suffer whatever fate that awaited her. Her scream would haunt him for the rest of his life. The Golden King was then brought to a chamber, with a bright pedestal, empty. A lone human held a green gem in his palm, cackling while all of the aliens cowered in fear.

A disembodied voice echoed into Gil’s mind. “Heed my words, Ancient King,” the voice sternly warned. “That gem will save your people,” the voice boomed in his mind.

“What? Why are you telling me this?” Gil was shaken, unsure of what he was seeing. There was no trace of ancient civilizations on where Uruk now stands. Where did it go?

“In four cycles of the moon, the sun will die once more. When we needed the Chaos Emerald’s protection...A thief stole it and now uses it to rule over our broken corpses. From one King to another, I just want my people to rest in peace,” the voice quivered, almost as if it was bartering with Gilgamesh.

“What does that mean?” the Golden King shouted.

“I do not have much time,” the disembodied voice of the Prothean King replied. “Your Kingdom will get allies soon enough. The acrobat will be your saving grace before the darkness engulfs your city. Find her and free us…” the voice trailed off and the Golden King felt his head rush.

Gilgamesh jolted from his slumber, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, his hands trembling. What the fuck just happened? He shot out of bed and rushed to his balcony. The foggy twilight was no longer, instead replaced by the brilliant sun. The construction of the Mesopotamian city was still there. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream, although all too real. He could still tangibly feel the fear that lingered off the protean society. Gil slapped his face to shake him out of the haziness, he had no time to dwell on this; he had many Kingly duties to attend to. With newfound fervor, he donned his golden armor and made his way towards the throne room.

The King could already tell this was going to be a long day. He had just arrived onto his throne and there was already a line of visitors for him to address. He waved the first one forward, one of his dutiful soldiers. “Speak,” Gil commanded.

The soldier kneeled and bowed his head, “My liege, a traveling circus has arrived at the outskirts of our great wall. Do we wish to charge them a fee for performing in our great city?”

Gilgamesh stroked his chin in thought before speaking decisively. “No. This circus will provide entertainment to the Syntech workers, improving morale. They could also attract more citizens,” he decreed, tapping his fingers together.

“Of course, my liege,” the soldier stood up and made his way back toward the wall.

“Wait,” Gilgamesh shouted after him. “Get me a front-row seat.”

 

[Klarion]

“I thought I’d find you here!”

Garou startled, nearly toppling from where he was perched precariously on the edge of an archway overlooking a quiet, winding sidestreet. No one was around to see him slip, though; people usually kept to themselves in this part of Karim. It was a less prosperous neighborhood, the buildings all crammed together and lined with brown mud tiles, and only a few kids could be seen playing out on the cobbled road. Their parents were likely gone for the day to the markets— laborers and craftsmen, for the most part.

He turned to glare down at the young girl peering up at him from the ground, a genuinely delighted smile on her face. It was a weak glare, though, and faded until he was quirking a slight grin in return.

“You’re pretty light on your feet, small-fry. Almost got the drop on me.”

Ty Lee crossed her arms over her chest, smile fading as she looked his trim and muscled form over with a critical eye.

The young man looked away quickly, scrubbing a hand through his shock of stark white hair, feigning disinterest. It was only a second, scarcely a microexpression flitting across his face, but Ty Lee caught it all the same— a slight wince when he raised his arm.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’ve been fighting again, haven’t you?” Ty Lee accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.

The former hero hunter’s grin returned, a touch feral around the edges. “Bastard deserved it, caught him stealing from some grandma’s purse in the markets. You should’ve seen his face when I caught up to him— I think he recognized me. I must be gettin’ a reputation around here.”

He stepped down from his perch, dropping from the frighteningly lofty height only to land lightly on the balls of his feet. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face Ty Lee with raised eyebrows, apparently searching for approval.

If anything, Ty Lee only frowned harder. “You need to work on your technique, Garou! You could break your ankles landing like that,” she tilted her head, eying how he had one arm curved defensively around his side. “And did that guy break one of your ribs or something?”

“Just a bruise, little sister,” Garou scoffed, raising his shirt a bit to prod irritably at the bandages he’d wrapped tightly around his midsection. He glanced up, catching her gaze with a definite twinkle in his eye. “You should see the other guy, though. He was big, but clumsy. Didn’t seem to know what to do with all that muscle. Only got one hit in before I had him on the ground, crying for mommy.”

“Uh-huh,” the young girl said, finally uncrossing her arms. It was like they’d had this exact conversation a million times before… and maybe they had.

Garou'd been the very first person Ty Lee had met in the Crossroads. He was weird, violent, and cocky— all traits Ty Lee didn’t necessarily like, but could tolerate if she really had to. On the other hand, Garou was also Weird with a capital ‘w’, treated her like a particularly annoying sibling, and had a strangely twisted sense of justice. This sense of justice often caused him to hurl himself at people much bigger than him, though that didn’t stop him from winning. It did get him hurt a lot of the time, though, and that was why she was here now, checking up on his health.

And, well… there was another reason she was here, too. The circus was set to leave in a few hours— Zeke and Ji’hira had everything packed up and read to leave with the next merchant caravan to Uruk. If she was gonna enact her master plan to get Garou to come with her, it needed to happen now.

Plus, judging by how antsy he was already getting, it wouldn’t be long before Garou would ditch her, probably off to lick his wounds in peace. Thankfully, Ty Lee had come prepared.

The young girl twisted to reach into the small parcel she’d brought with her, the brown paper sack rustling as she felt around inside it. “There’s something I want to talk to you about...”

Garou cut her off with a snort. “If it’s more about my technique, I’m not interested—” his eyes landed on her hands, watching as she unearthed something from the sack’s depths. “oh.”

Ty Lee waved the packaged bowl of warm soup in his direction, generous plumes of savory steam wafting from it. His eyes tracked the movement like a starving wolf, greedy and intent. “Well, in that case, I guess I can just go…”

“No, wait. You know how much I love our talks,” Garou lied straight to her face, eyes still glued to the food in her hands. “Let’s chat.”

They sat on the stoop of a nearby apartment complex, the reddish-brown clay steps warmed by the midday sun. Ty Lee cracked open a container of black sesame soup, a fragrant and nutty smell swirling in the air around her face. She’d also brought along a small basket of sweet cream buns to split, the open bamboo steamer sitting between them.

She watched in amusement as Garou wolfed down his portion, hunched over like he expected her to snatch it from him. It was a little sad at the same time, though, so Ty Lee had never dared to make a comment. She’d known people who probably would have and desperately didn’t want to be like that, least of all to someone she considered a friend.

Despite the delicious assortment of foods she’d brought, Ty Lee was only able to manage a few mouthfuls of soup before she had to stop. The sweetly rich soup sat heavy in her stomach, soured by her frayed nerves, and pretty soon she set her spoon aside.

“So,” said Ty Lee, looking at the warm bowl cupped between her hands. “I’m leaving Karim.”

Instantly Garou’s golden eyes snapped to her face, mouth open mid-bite. He swallowed the portion he’d already eaten quickly, though, and blurted out probably all he could think to say in that moment: “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Ty Lee hummed. This is stupid, she thought. Garou doesn’t care, he’s a total asshole. And yet, some part of her hoped her longtime friend would say something, anything, that might signify that her friendship meant something to him, that maybe she should stick around—

“Hm, okay,” said Garou. He shrugged, immediately returning to his food.

Ty Lee gaped at him in shock.

“That’s it?!” she demanded, smacking him on the arm. “Just a ‘hm, okay’?! No, ‘oh, goodbye Ty Lee, I’ll miss you’ or ‘don’t go, you’re the only friend I have because I’m rude and would beat up every person in this city if I could’—”

“Hey,” interrupted Garou, seeming peeved. “Not every person. Most of the snot-nosed kids that hang around here are pretty cool. Yourself included.”

Ty Lee pouted. “I am not a snot-nosed kid!”

“Sure,” said Garou, dispassionately popping the remainder of a sweet bun into his mouth. “Totally unrelated, but aren’t you like, twelve or something?”

“Seventeen, actually,” said Ty Lee, puffed up with rage. “And I can still whoop your butt!”

“Don’t I know it,” Garou grumbled, chewing thoughtfully. “So, where are you going? You headed to one of those other worlds? You know, the ones that actually have more to ‘em than a bunch of sand?”

Anger quelled somewhat by the string of questions, Ty Lee shrugged. “Zeke says there’s this big city some guy’s founded out in the middle of the desert. He thinks we might be able to find a bigger audience there, since it’s only just opened its gates pretty recently. I don’t really want to go, but… I like performing with the circus. Besides, it might be nice to finally venture outside of Karim… maybe…” she seemed uncertain of that, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a frown.

“A new city, huh?” Garou smirked. “Just out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by desert. Some guy came along and built it on a whim?”

“Well, I don’t know the particulars,” Ty Lee argued, feeling weirdly defensive of this city she didn’t even really want to go to. “I just know that that’s where we’re going. So… I wanted to say… well, bye…”

Garou eyed her closely, suspicious. “You’re not gonna start crying, are you?” He looked ill at the very thought.

“No,” said Ty Lee, stubbornly, but sniffled a bit anyway. “I’m just. It’s just allergies. A bit of dust. There’s a lot of dust in the desert, Garou.”

“Well, get a handle on... that,” said Garou, flapping a hand at her. He appeared existentially pained, expression caught somewhere between a grimace and a snarl.

“But I’m going to miss you so much,” Ty Lee sighed, looking at him with tears in her eyes. “You’ve been so nice to me and you helped me find the circus and you are such a good friend—”

Garou glanced around at that, eyes wide. “Stop it. Don’t just say things like that, someone could hear you—”

“You’re my best friend, Garou,” Ty Lee persisted, sniffling. “Like a real big brother.”

“Disgusting,” Garou hissed. He shied away when Ty Lee looked like she might be moving in for a hug, physically bracing an arm between them. “Back off. I mean it, kid.”

Ty Lee reached out, taking his hand in her own. He didn’t quite have the emotional willpower to throw her off, but he did eye the offending appendage with a sneer.

“Please, Garou,” Ty Lee pleaded. Garou tried to avoid looking at her teary, sparkling eyes, but failed spectacularly. “Come to Uruk with me.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not—”

 

[Klarion]

“I can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this,” Garou complained. He and Ty Lee stood staring up at Uruk’s towering outer walls, the both of them feeling pretty irritable from the powerful desert heat. Even in her light pink choli top, Ty Lee found it a little hard to catch her breath in the heavy haze of midday, sweat prickling uncomfortably at the small of her back, but the shade provided by the ginormous city walls helped to take the edge off, at least a little bit.

If there was one thing this Uruk place had going for it, Ty Lee supposed, it was definitely defense. She was, unfortunately, reminded of the Earth Kingdom’s crown jewel: Ba Sing Se. It seemed that no matter where she went, there would always be something to remind her of her… less than stellar past.

Blowing a piece of sweat-streaked hair from her face, Ty Lee glanced over at Zeke. The high elf stood at the front of the gates, dressed grandly in his ringmaster outfit and trying in vain to convince one of the city’s sentries to go ahead and let them in. Another guard had run off about an hour before, saying something about getting the king’s approval, so Ty Lee figured it wouldn’t be long before they had their answer.

She couldn’t be totally certain of that, though. The city did seem pretty enormous, at least from the outside, miles and miles of mud brick walls stretching outward with no end in sight. There was no telling how long it would take for that guy to return. For all she knew, the guy might’ve had to sprint a couple miles to reach this so-called king’s palace… hopefully they had some messenger hawks available, or else they’d be stuck waiting for a long time.

The light blazing down from the sun wavered in the air around them, strange heat-mirages twisting across the golden sands and vibrant blue sky. The ostrich horses pulling their carts crowed angrily, kicking at the ground with their big clawed feet, and Ty Lee could see that a lot of her fellow circus acts seemed to be of a similar mind. Ji’hira was fielding complaints from one of their animal trainers already, muscular arms crossed over her chest and a crease of irritation marring her feline face.

Zeke flounced over to stand beside Ty Lee, sighing aloud. “Well, they can’t let us in yet. These people are very wary about who can get past their walls, apparently. Almost everything has to be approved by their king first.”

“What do we know about this ‘king’, anyway?” Garou wanted to know, straightening from where he’d been leaning against the side of a cart. “Seems a little shady, if you ask me.”

The elf man frowned at him, green eyes narrowing. “Well, I didn’t ask. And keep your voice down, please. We don’t want to give them any reason to turn us away, remember? We discussed this.”

Garou huffed. “I seem to recall a lot of rambling from you, pointy. Wasn’t much of a discussion involved.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ty Lee, cutting in before things could get too heated. “I’m curious about the king, too. What is his name? What’s he like?”

With one last glare at Garou, Zeke turned to Ty Lee. “His name is King Gilgamesh, and the most I know of him is that he was a recent participant in Dante’s Abyss. I think he was a finalist. A rather impressive accomplishment, to be sure.”

Garou perked up. “I’ve heard of that, it was broadcast all over the Crossroads. Come to think of it, the name Gilgamesh does ring a bell… he was the guy that ate people’s faces, right?”

“What?!” Ty Lee gasped, eyes widening. Garou was grinning that one weirdly sinister grin of his, so she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “He eats people’s faces?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He does not eat people’s faces,” snapped Zeke.

“No, no, he totally did,” said Garou, looking thoughtful. “The guy must be really strong…”

Ty Lee threw a desperate glance at Zeke, face paling considerably. “I’m not sure if I want to perform for a guy who eats people’s faces, Zeke…”

“He will not eat your face, because he doesn't eat faces,” Zeke said, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to soothe an incoming headache. He paused at seeing something over Ty Lee’s shoulder, though, and immediately tossed Garou a warning glance. “Now shush, here comes one of the guards.”

A man dressed all in copper armor came trotting up to them, panting slightly for breath. He smiled a perfect customer service smile at Zeke, throwing his hands open in welcome.

“You and your menagerie are welcome inside, Mr. Ezekiel. And I have further good news for you: the king has requested a front row seat at your next performance!”

Ty Lee’s eyes grew impossibly wide, teeth clenched in fear. The guard threw her an odd look, but the high elf showman was quick to sweep between them, his cape fluttering gloriously behind him as he stepped forward to shake the guard’s hand.

“Oh, thank you, thank you! You can tell your king to clear his evening schedule, then, for our next performance is tonight!” Zeke crowed, grinning from ear to pointed ear.

Over the sound of Zeke’s posturing and the guard’s less-excited responses, Ty Lee could feel herself drifting away, mind consumed with panic. Her last acrobatic performance in front of royalty hadn’t gone exactly to plan...

 

[Klarion]

Ty Lee had never had much of a problem with crowds. The large number of people packed into the tent didn’t unsettle her one bit— in fact, the sight of such a large crowd sparked a little ember of excitement in her chest, an unwitting smile blooming on her face as she gazed at the large audience below.

She peered down from her perch at the tent’s highest point, the tightrope before her stretching across what would surely be a heart-stopping drop if she were to lose her footing. The multitude of people gathered in the stands were too busy watching the performers already in the ring to notice her, their excited murmuring humming in the air like the ceaseless chattering of a flock of birds.

At the center of it all was Zeke, his brilliant velvet cloak shimmering as it swished behind him, voice lilting in the air as he introduced each of the new acts wandering into the ring, managing to shine even when surrounded by performers dressed in all manner of sequined outfits and elaborate makeup. Clearly in his element, the high elf swept from one side of the tent to the other, the glaring white beam of the spotlight tracking his every movement. His bright green eyes glinted like gems from the stark glow, his high cheekbones and dazzling smile working overtime to butter up the audience.

The top of the circus tent, on the other hand, was shrouded in thick shadow. Only the radiance of the ornate lanterns hanging from the rafters warmed the vaulting ceiling with their dainty golden glow— scattered across the tent’s blue canvas like a dusting of stars, the flames burning inside giving off the illusion of a twinkling tapestry of cosmic wonder. Way up here, Ty Lee was free to stare at all the people she wanted. It wasn’t like they could see her looking, not with the dizzying height and the cover of darkness concealing her from view.

Still, she needed to be ready. In mere moments, the spotlight would be turned on her, and Zeke would begin raving about her acrobatic talents. But for now, Ty Lee knelt down in a delicate crouch, maintaining her balance with an almost feline sense of poise.

Her eyes remained fixed on one particular person in the audience, though. She couldn’t make out much of his face from, like, forty feet in the air, but that didn’t stop her from understanding exactly who he was.

A man who could only be the king was seated at the very front of the stands, his golden hair and finery gleaming even in the dim lighting. King Gilgamesh leaned heavily on one fist, a pair of attendants flanking him on either side. He seemed to regard the various performers with little reaction, even as a fire breather spewed a curtain of orange flames at a distance that was a little too close for most people’s comfort.

It was almost like he was… bored, or maybe simply exhausted. Judging by how he was slightly slumped on the throne-like dais, Ty Lee guessed the latter.

She gulped, a bead of sweat dripping from her brow. Maybe King Gilgamesh thrived off eating people’s faces, and like a vampire he needed faces to eat or else he’d waste away into a dry old husk! It’d make sense, really, if his youthful appearance was gained from bathing in the blood of his enemies… or just eating their faces for breakfast…

Ty Lee shuddered. The last time a royal had watched her performance, things had gotten bad pretty quick. Like, really bad. Disastrously so. Hopefully this guy wasn’t as messed up or sadistic as Azula could be. That hope hadn’t stopped Ty Lee from asking— no, begging and pleading with Zeke not to do anything to alter how that evening’s performance was supposed to go. She wasn’t sure if she could handle another… incident.

Yet, it was hard not to feel at least a little bit hopeful about how things would go, especially after she had seen the city. Once they had managed to get past the walls, Uruk itself was quite a sight, even if it was mostly unoccupied for now. Buildings constructed of sun-baked stone sprawled for miles and miles in an almost maze-like formation, the large palace seated at the center of it all casting the few structures nestled beside it in deep shadow. It was formed into a pyramidal shape from several massive slabs of solid rock, like a stairway reaching up to the heavens.

Overall, it reminded Ty Lee very much of Earth Kingdom architecture, almost startlingly so. Maybe that was how the king had built his city so quickly, he’d hired a bunch of earth benders to do it… that would certainly explain a few things!

Abruptly, Ty Lee was snapped out of her thoughts by the sight of the spotlight’s beam slowly passing along the tent’s fabric in a wide arc. She immediately tuned back in to hear what was going on below, ears straining to catch Zeke’s call for the acrobatic performance to begin. And, well, sure enough...

“Esteemed guests!” the elven ringmaster called, his words swelling to resonate pleasantly in the air like the sustained and lustrous singing of a violin. From this high up, Ty Lee could see his arms lift, gesturing grandly to the rafters above— to where she was perched, waiting for the spotlight to descend upon her. “Not far nor wide will you find an acrobat quite so striking, so talented, so nimble! It brings me immense jubilation to present to you our merry troupe’s pride and joy— the gravity-defying Ty Lee!”

Right before the spotlight fell over her, Ty Lee sucked in a deep breath, plastering on the biggest grin she could manage so that it could be glimpsed even from far below. Okay, she could do this. Nothing would be set on fire, no wild animals would be released to rampage around the ring below. She would be fine.

A blinding white light cast into Ty Lee’s face, illuminating her slight figure with its unforgiving scrutiny. The golden silk of her fitted costume glistened with sequins, the fan-like headdress she wore shimmering with pearls and paste jewels, pink flowers made of sequins spreading in a delicate lattice from the crown of her head. It was a little... itchy, but overall not all that bad for her maneuverability. All the dangly bits of the headdress were glued on so tightly that it was unlikely anything would come swinging loose, though her customary braid hung free.

Grinning despite the warm light shining powerfully into her face, Ty Lee waved eagerly to the crowd below, delighting in the sheer amount of attention focused on her. Without missing a beat, she started off the platform with a daring leap, bouncing off the balls of her feet and flipping forward, the world spinning and the weight of her body careening wildly through the air.

With expert grace, Ty Lee landed on her hands, now perched atop a much narrower platform centered at the middle of the tightrope. The spotlight wheeled over to follow her, the sweat shining across her skin glistening just as much as her sequined costume. Shifting quickly to balance on just one arm, Ty Lee sprang into a backflip over the tightrope, spinning in mid-air to land on her feet.

The rope swayed, bending under the sudden weight. Suddenly, the steep drop seemed a lot closer than it was seconds before. The knowledge of just what a fall like that would do to her body coursed through her head like a rush of blood, exhilarating and terrible all in equal measure, and for a split-second in time, Ty Lee was frozen.

Then, a round of cheers rose from the audience below. It rang like the sweetest of bells in her ears, and a genuine, private smile bloomed upon her face.

Cart-wheeling forward, Ty Lee tipped one of her legs into the air, then the other, showcasing her incredible flexibility for just a moment— and suddenly she was balanced on her hands! Bouncing there for a moment, testing the rope’s elasticity, Ty Lee again shifted so that she was balanced on a single hand.

Without warning, she cart-wheeled sideways, springing back up to balance on her feet. Growing a bit bolder, Ty Lee began to really pull out all the stops. She pirouetted, sweeping one leg out as she balanced firmly on the other, turning like a ballerina dozens of feet above the ground. She spun, and leaped, and danced like a bird on a wire, pale limbs not so much flailing as choreographing a defined series of movements across the big-top’s deep blue ceiling, like a canvas graced by the touch of a painter’s brush.

Finally, Ty Lee made it to the other end of the rope, the spotlight swerving down and away from her the minute she’d bobbed toward the audience in a brief bow. Breathless and trembling a bit from a mixture of excitement and stress, she scaled down from the rafters in record time, eager to greet the rest of the performers now that the night had almost reached its close.

The next half hour of performances passed in a blur. Once the audience had begun clearing out and Zeke had swept from the big-top, Ty Lee rushed to one of the attached tents they had set up, dodging around an animal trainer who’d let his pair of hog monkeys out to investigate the grounds. The creatures chittered and squealed as she passed, hovering jealously around a tin of dried fig treats, and the trainer waved to her, a greeting which Ty Lee happily returned.

Her head had just ducked inside the tent, eyes adjusting to the faint candlelight versus the dark of night outside, when she was accosted by one very excitable high elf, Ji’hira hovering in the background with a far more sedate aura.

“You were great!” Zeke crowed, clasping her by the shoulders with a wide grin on his face. “Simply amazing! See, performing in front of a king wasn’t so different from the common folk, now was it?”

Ty Lee shrugged, quirking a small smile of her own. “I guess not. I was a little nervous at the start there, but that wasn’t so bad. He didn’t even ask you to set anything on fire!”

“Uhm, yeah,” said Zeke, a little confused. “Anyway, there’s something we need to talk about before you start—”

“Sure, lay it on me!” Ty Lee chirped, already beginning to think about removing her makeup and extracting the headdress from where it’d been securely clipped to her hair.

She could hear the sound of the crowd dispersing still in the distance, faint voices and footsteps humming in the air. Distantly, she wondered just where Garou had gotten off to. He had skulked off while they were busy standing up the tent in one of the more open districts of the city, utterly disinterested in helping out. She hoped he hadn’t gone too far or (and this was WAY more likely) found any trouble.

Shaking her head, Ty Lee pulled the headdress from her hair, its removal feeling like an instant relief for her aching scalp. She set it on the ramshackle vanity across the room, reaching up to rub some feeling back into the tender skin of her head, peering into the mirror at her painted face. Hmm. She’d need to find a bowl of water somewhere to get this stuff off!

Zeke cleared his throat, his reflection showing behind hers, wringing his hands together in clear uncertainty. “The king wants to speak with you, Ty Lee. Alone.”

Ty Lee froze, making panicked eye contact with herself in the mirror. All the blood drained from her face.

“What?!”

 

[Gilgamesh]

Gilgamesh had underestimated how much of his bureaucratic duties would have piled up in his absence. At first, the Syntech employees complained about the heat. Several groups of workers to the north threatened to strike unless they had some form of climate control. Where was he supposed to find that? The defenders reported uncoordinated animal attacks at the city walls. Apparently, their presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. Gil ordered for masons to repair the damaged wall, escorted by the few guards that he could afford to send. The bakers came forward after complaining about…

***​

Orange and purple slowly streaked through the sky as the sun began its descent. Yet, somehow, the Golden King had yet to leave his throne. His back screamed in agony, each of his vertebrae cracking as he stretched. He had lost count of how many of his subjects he had seen, nonetheless there was still a sizeable line to have an audience with him. Gil placed his hand to the nape of his neck, massaging his stiff muscles. He *really* needed to hire an assistant that could manage the more menial requests. As of now, however, it was the sole duty of the King to oversee his nation.

“Next,” Gilgamesh’s voice bellowed, echoing throughout the throne room. A nobleman, dressed in purple, silk robes and with jeweled rings hiding his fingers, entered the room. The man did an awkward half-bow upon entering the room. It seemed that he was unaccustomed to meeting foreign royalty.

As he opened his lips to speak, one of Gilgamesh’s bodyguard’s phone began to buzz. The businessman seemed jarred at the intrusion and erected himself, casting an irritated eye at this interruption. “Your highness, I-” he said, performing another half bow.

The guard had not learned court etiquette, as he took out his flip phone and squinted at the caller id, bringing it closer to his face. “Ah,” he audibly gasped as he realized who it was, switching open the phone and answering. “You’ve reached the throne room, this is Chad,” he stated rather loudly.

The King turned his head, raising an eyebrow at Chad. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh okay. Bye,” the guard mumbled over the phone before hanging up. The noble sneered at Chad as the guard fumbled, trying to put away his phone. Chad lowered himself and cupped his hand so that only Gil could hear.

“The circus is readying their performance for you my liege,” he whispered.

Gilgamesh let out a sigh of relief, saved by the bell it seemed. He pushed himself up off of his throne. With a floppy wave of his hand, Gilgamesh decreed, “You’re dismissed, merchant.”

“W-what do you mean, oh wise king,” the noble stuttered, “I’ve been waiting all day to have an audience with you.”

“Oh?” Gil raised an eyebrow, stopping in place. “Are you so bold to think you are entitled to speak with me?” he prodded, his red eyes piercing through the man’s soul.

“Of course not, but I-”

“Then you shall wait again tomorrow,” Gilgamesh demanded, narrowing his eyes. “There is a show that demands my attendance and you will not make me miss it,” he strode past the noble, who remained speechless. Gil turned his head to Chad, “I shall not be seeing anyone else today.”

***​

Gilgamesh’s eyelids grew tired and felt heavy during the performance. Despite the exciting acts of breathing fire and lion taming, the fact that Gil had little time to rest had made this performance rather dull. Though he seemed rather disinterested, despite his proximity to the danger, the crowd was eating the performance up.

He turned his head to one of his attendants, “Make sure they are rather well paid,” Gilgamesh commanded, “The people seem to love them.”

His bodyguard nodded, “And what do you think of them, my king?”

“I have yet to decide,” Gilgamesh dismissed as fire spewed forth from a performer’s mouth, the flames close enough to tickle and singe the Golden King’s hair. After a few more dragon-like acts the firebreather took a bow before retreating behind the curtain.

It was then the ringmaster garnered Gil’s attention. With a captivating cadence, he called out to the crowd, “Esteemed guests! “Not far nor wide will you find an acrobat quite so striking, so talented, so nimble! It brings me immense jubilation to present to you our merry troupe’s pride and joy— the gravity-defying Ty Lee!”

The King’s ear perked at the word ‘acrobat’. Though he had originally dismissed the premonition as a wicked nightmare, he couldn’t help but lean in anticipation for the upcoming performance.

***​

The performance ended with Gilgamesh intensely learning forward, literally on the edge of his seat. The acrobat on stage had captivated his attention. Her feats of flexibility were far greater than any Babylonian performer he had seen. As her performance ended, the Golden King snapped at one of his attendants.

“Yes, my liege?”

“Whatever you had planned on paying them, double it,” he decreed.

“I take it that my lord had enjoyed the show?”

“Very much so,” Gil trailed off before he pushed himself off the palanquin and walked toward the ringmaster.

The rest of the audience had finished their applause and begun to exit the tent. The elven ringleader had begun to tidy up as Gilgamesh approached. “No autographs. Unless you’re paying, that is” the man said without looking up.

Gilgamesh couldn’t help but smirk at the man’s obvious blunder. “I had come to give my personal congratulations for such an entertaining performance,” he spoke confidently, crossing his arms over his chest.

The elf turned his head, and his eyes grew wide in panic as he realized who he had so rudely dismissed. “Y-your highness?” his voice trembled a bit. It only took a second before he gathered his wits. “Thank you, your highness. That is high praise coming from yourself,” he then bowed.

“Yes, yes,” Gil waved his hand carelessly. “I believe you will find a lot of business in my growing city. The people love you, especially that nimble dancer. Ty Lee was it?” the Golden King’s eyebrow raised.

“Why yes, Ty Lee is very popular among our troupe. She is very talented,” the leader said, clasping his hands together.
“Yes, I wish to meet her. Personally.” Gilgamesh decreed casually.

Zeke flustered up a bit, “Wha-? Um, of course. However, I’ll have to ask her…”

Gilgamesh chuckled. “Oh is that what this is about? You performance types are always greedy. You are lucky I enjoyed the show,” the Golden King opened a portal and reached into it. He pulled out a large brown sack and tossed it into Zeke’s arms.

The ringmaster was confused at the development of events and cautiously opened the bag. His eyes glimmered as he saw the mass amounts of gold and fine jewels that he had just been handed.

Gilgamesh looked at his nails, making sure they were clean. “I trust that this is enough to get an audience with her?”

“Uh…” Zeke looked into the bag, practically drooling at the amount of cash. “Yeah, it is.”

 

[Gilgamesh]

Zeke had brought Gilgamesh to his private room, opening the door and deeply bowing. The Golden King slowly entered the room and took in his surroundings. While Gil would prefer the comfort of his throne room, he would have to accommodate the peasant to gain an audience with the acrobat.

Gilgamesh was rather impressed with Zeke’s taste, aside from the litter that coated the room. He assumed that the ringmaster was considered wealthy, at least to the common folk. A grand mirror, likely decorated with cubic zirconia, stood out from across the room. The rest of it seemed rather standard. A small bed, mementos of road trips, cabinets, and jewelry thrown about the room.

Zeke gave a nervous chuckle, “Forgive the mess, my liege. I was not expecting someone as important as you to give his company,” he gave a wide, faux smile as he shut the door behind him. “Please,” he rushed forward and pulled the seat next to his prep mirror, “take a seat, your highness.”

“Don’t make me wait long. My anger is just as strong as my generosity,” the King stated. The ringmaster backed out of the room, while Gilgamesh took his seat, not wanting any more alone time with Gil’s intimidating presence.

“Why of course, my King. I’ll go fetch Ty Lee now. Please excuse me,” he gave another bow before he had completely left the tent. Once the ringmaster had left, Gilgamesh’s gaze turned to the finer details of the room. Various undergarments, from both men and women, were scattered on his bed. It seems that the elf was quite popular in the city.

The Golden King got up from his seat, the wooden seat had begun to splinter and Gil did not want to tarnish his fine cloth pants. He wandered across the room, his hand trailing against the rough, used furniture. ‘So pedestrian’ he thought to himself, nothing particularly catching his eye. However, a table filled with photographs of the troupe did make him stop in his tracks. He gravitated to a particular photo, one not too long ago. Each of the members was packed together, smiling and laughing, truly a perfect moment captured in time.

“I’m sorry to intrude, your majesty, but you requested for me,” a woman’s voice emerged from the silence. He saw the young woman who had impressed him, her hair still frizzled from her fresh performance. She was rather withdrawn, her arms close to her chest as she walked further into the tent. She awkwardly fiddled, as she wondered if it was appropriate to sit.

“Please,” Gilgamesh gave her a warm smile, “take a seat.” Gilgamesh leaned against the table as he continued to speak. “Ty Lee, right? I found your performance in particular rather exciting. I have never seen a tumbler with such skill,” he gleamed.

“Oh,” she nervously chuckled, “I have gotten a lot of practice performing in the circus, I guess.”

“You’ve never had professional training?” Gilgamesh leaned in, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing that serious.” she smiled politely.

Gilgamesh’s eyebrow remained raised for a brief moment before he chuckled. “That settles it. Such a natural performer deserves greatness. I would like to recruit you as a professional for Babylonia,” he declared boldly.

Ty Lee was taken aback, speechless for a moment. Eventually, she was able to get out a “What?”

“Yes, of course, you’ll be properly paid,” he carried on. He pushed himself off the table and began to pace the room with vigor. “In my kingdom, you’ll be given proper training and the privileges of a noble,” he continued, the passion in his voice taking off. “There’s so much we can do with someone of your dexterity,” he exclaimed at the end. He took a deep breath to continue before he was interrupted.

“I’m sorry, your majesty. That sounds lovely but I’m afraid I’m not interested,” Ty Lee spoke, her voice timid but firm.

Gil’s momentum broke and he deflated a bit. His voice was still warm, but betrayed a hint of irritation, “Is there something wrong?”

The acrobat walked over and grabbed the photograph that Gilgamesh was just admiring. Her hand gently traced the people in the photograph. “I’m just so happy here,” she smiled, her eyes deep in memory. “They’re like my family. I can’t just leave them behind.”

Gil nodded in thought, he was afraid that this would happen, but he had only one other trick up his sleeve. “What if I hire all of you?”

 

[Klarion]

“Hire… all of us?” Ty Lee stammered, not quite believing her ears. The smug curl of the king’s mouth seemed to magnify in her vision as he spoke about bonds of nobility, training, loyalty. It all felt… disturbingly familiar, but the girl was quick to brush those thoughts aside. The past couldn’t hurt her here. Not now, not ever.

King Gilgamesh smiled. Almost against her will, Ty Lee’s gaze was drawn to the golden gauntlets covering his arms, the lustrous metal clanking gently together as he spread them in a gesture of benevolence.

“Of course,” the king said. “My people deserve the best in entertainment, after all...”

But Ty Lee wasn’t listening anymore. Not really, anyway— her head was swimming, her surroundings blurring as she contemplated the implications of an offer like the one she’d just been given. Blood roared in her ears, the immense pressure of the situation piling onto her shoulders like a wheelbarrow full of bricks.

She’d been born to a noble family. As a result, Ty Lee knew all too well the special type of confidence a little coin could inspire. Things here might be different from how they were back in the Fire Nation, but some things always remained the same. But, even more than that, Ty Lee understood that it wasn’t just about the money anymore. Not by a long shot. The promise of having a permanent home in Uruk… it was almost too good to pass up. Staying there long-term would provide security, a semi-permanent audience, and what’s more, it would undoubtedly boost their public image. Performing personally for a king, then being hired by him? That was hyuuuuuuuuge.

Did the king even realize what he was offering to them, Ty Lee wondered? Surely he did. For a small-time circus like Zeke’s, this was big. No, it was more than big— it was life changing!

For a moment, the performer allowed herself to imagine what life could be like if she were to accept: No more scrounging about for spare coins on the streets of Karim. No more roasting in the midday sun while trying to wheedle pocket change out of a bustling, largely uncaring market crowd. No more struggle. No more desperation! It seemed almost beyond the realm of reason, completely undreamt of. Could she really turn down an offer like that, knowing full well that the king’s generosity would benefit the entire circus?

What kind of person would she be if she did?

Ty Lee winced. An astronomically selfish one, that’s what. And, judging by the victorious expression on the king’s face, he knew exactly what her answer would be.

So, channeling every drop of noble blood she had left in her, Ty Lee made her choice.

“I… wow! I’m flattered, your majesty,” the young girl enthused, clearly breathless, and promptly dipped into a bow. “And I accept! But, there’s one thing I’m a little curious about…”

Ty Lee resisted the urge to grasp at her hair braid and twist it between her hands, a bit of nervous sweat beading on her brow. She couldn’t afford to be less than perfect in front of a king, and she really hoped her question didn’t upset him, but if she didn’t ask, her curiosity would surely eat her alive! She needed to know.

The king waved a hand at her, seeming particularly amenable now that he’d gotten his way. The message was clear: ask away.

In turn, the acrobat bit her lip, eyes darting around. “It’s just, well. Why me? I mean no disrespect, your highness, but this is… well, a really odd request!” Ty Lee peered at him again, not quite accusatory, but more confused, if anything. “It’s not every day that a king asks to chat with a circus performer, after all.”

Gilgamesh considered her a moment, giving Ty Lee the perfect opportunity to get a closer view of his kingly features. For the second time that night, she noticed that he appeared to be simply exhausted. The deep shadows under his eyes were easy to miss with all his bravado and posturing, the man’s passion for his kingdom seeming to wash away any signs of mortal cares he might have had, but they were definitely there. It made her wonder about their cause— was it the difficulty of running his fledgling kingdom? Illness? Something even more sinister? Her thoughts ran wild with the possibilities, her anxieties growing with every passing second.

A nighttime breeze passed through the tent like a hushed whisper, stirring the thick flaps of painted canvas covering the entrance. Sounds of celebration and cheer trickled through, a particularly sharp bark of a laugh seeming to draw the king out of his intense scrutinization.

“No… I suppose it isn’t,” he said at last, looking away from her. He glanced around Zeke’s tent, apparently taking in the scattered clothing and ragged furnishings once more. Ty Lee felt her cheeks flush a bit in embarrassment; Zeke really wasn’t the tidiest guy in the Crossroads, now was he?

An oddly sour look passed over the king’s face, there one second and gone the next, before he returned his gaze to her. A slightly strained, yet cordial smile appeared on his face. “Despite the late hour, I would ask that you join me in a tour of my city. Not only to introduce you to your new home, but also so that I may explain the reasons for my offer in full.”

Ty Lee balked at this strangely formal request— surely she couldn’t! She would have to practice her acrobatic routine early in the morning before the next evening’s performance, not to mention surviving Zeke’s grilling about her conversation with the king. She couldn’t afford to go traipsing around the city late into the night! That was just asking for trouble.

Although… when would she ever have the chance to be personally shown around by the king again? The opportunity was too good to pass up; plus, she really wanted to know the truth behind why he was so insistent on her joining his elite team of talented people or whatever.

With all that in mind, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Ty Lee smiled brightly at the king, giving a short bow. “Of course, I’d be delighted to! Just one moment while I let someone know where I’ll be, otherwise Zeke might get into a tizzy… show business, you know?”

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

To most, it was a quiet, peaceful night in Uruk. Some had finished a nice dinner, others were quietly chatting as they made their way home from a stunning performance from the new circus troupe. For a certain cultist, however, quiet and peaceful was the last way that he would describe his night.

“Free! I’m free!” Sigmund thought to himself, his lungs burning as he did his best to keep up his full sprint. He had been running for only around a minute so far but his treacherous flesh was already threatening to give out on him. If only he were a little fitter… still, the spirit was incredibly willing, and he urged himself to keep running. “Sutor’s distracted… gotta get away… no more lewd jokes!”

The high priest whipped around a corner at breakneck speeds, for him at any rate, unable to slow himself down as he found himself face to face with a young girl and an incredibly expensive looking man. Shocked, the girl raised her arms reflexively, preparing herself to be knocked flat to the ground. To her shock, however, the young northman seemed to have no more force behind him than a rather dense pillow, and she found herself utterly unharmed by the impact. Sigmund, however, was caught in the chest by her arm. A spluttering gasp escaped the scion’s lips as his legs flew up into the air and his body crashed to the ground, floored by Ty Lee’s accidental clothesline. Despite the severity of his fall, he kept the Manic Codex clutched tightly to his chest rather than attempt to break his fall.

“Uh… are you alright?” The acrobot asked, peering over the cultist’s prone body. Gilgamesh, on the other hand, remained silent as his face flew through a number of different expressions, first recognition, then comprehension, then a flash of concern before a look of deep thought settled across his visage. For his part, Sigmund didn’t seem awfully perturbed by the fall. He simply touched the back of his head to ensure that he hadn't cracked his skull open and then picked himself up and off the ground with his telekinesis, brushing off his cloak.

“Well, I’m not bleeding, so I should be fine.” He said, still rather out of breath from his desperate flight. “Phew… My apologies. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to not go and people to not see.”

Before the priest could continue his sprint, however, the golden king halted him with a raised hand. The men looked at each other for a moment, recognition clear on each of their faces.

“Oh, I know you.” Sigmund noted with a cheery smile.

“I could say the same thing.” The King replied, a smile of his own twitching the corners of his mouth.

“You’re Gilgamesh, the man who ate my friend's face and snapped my neck in Dante’s Abyss! It’s been some time.”

“Oh. That’s not quite what I was going for. I do apologise for that, though, the Abyss brings out the worst in us.” Gilgamesh responded, his expression darkening for a moment. “You’ve not come for revenge, have you?”

“Oh, no, no.” The cultist said, waving his hand dismissively, as if to clear the accusation from the air. “That was all fair play. Water under the ice, y’know?”

Amidst all of this talk, Ty Lee was sending confused, slightly worried glances between the two men. If the talk of face-eating and neck-snapping weren’t disconcerting enough, the fact that neither men seemed to bear any ill will towards the other
made it almost eerie.

“That aside…” The king interjected, clearing his throat. “That’s not why I recognised you.”

“Oh?” Sigmund replied, his head tilting inquisitively to the side. “Now you’ve got me curious.”

“Your resemblance to one of my most loyal servants is uncanny. Would you happen to be related to Erik Vrell?” The golden hero asked.

“Ah, I see, I see. Yes, you are right.” The scion nodded, understanding what exactly was going on as the pieces fell into place. The Gilgamesh in the Abyss must have been one and the same as the golden king that Victor had spoken about so reverently. While Sigmund had no shortage of doubts about the assassin, the man before him had a much more regal aura about him, and his display in the battle Royale was suitably horrifying to catch his attention. Interesting.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself.” The cultist said, taking a low bow towards the king and holding it. “Sigmund Vrell, son of Erik Vrell, eighth scion of Gal’skap. At your service, your highness.”

“You have your father’s manners, I see. You may rise.” The golden king grinned, approving of the display of respect. After a moment, he gestured to the girl at his side. “You know me, of course, but this here is Ty Lee, a new citizen of Uruk. I’m giving her a tour of the city.”

“Um… hi.” She said, snapping back to reality as she heard her name. The acrobat gave a slightly nervous wave as she glanced between the two men, still slightly unsure of what exactly was going on between the two.

“Pleased to meet you.” The high priest said, grinning and returning the wave. The pleasantries between the two were cut short, however, as another look on deep thought crossed Gilgamesh’s face. Clearing his throat, the king placed one hand on his hip and the other just under his chin.

“Sigmund, while your father served me I found him to be quite well-informed when it came to more… esoteric knowledge. Judging by those robes, would it be wrong to assume that you’ve followed in his footsteps?”

“No, your highness, not at all.” The cultist said, a couple more molars peeking through as his smile widened. “In fact, I hate to brag, but I don’t believe that it would be wrong to say that my knowledge is even more comprehensive than father’s.”

“Hmm, you don’t say… fantastic.” The golden king said, returning the Northman’s smile. “Well, I may have a job for you.”

“A job?” The scion responded, his eyes lighting up with ardent curiosity. “For me? That’s awfully generous, we did just meet.”

“Ha! That may be true, but I am nothing if not a just and generous king.” Gilgamesh’s laughed. “As the son of one of my most loyal servants, I am willing to grant you the opportunity to serve me. And if things go well, there may be many opportunities after that.”

“Well, how could I refuse an offer like that?” Sigmund grinned. He didn’t know exactly what the hero had in store, but if it involved the fringe knowledge that he specialised in, he had a good feeling about it. “Please, do tell.”

“Certainly, after the tour.” The Babylonian replied, gesturing to Ty Lee once more. “Is this your first time to Uruk? You’re welcome to join us.”

“It would be my pleasure, your highness.”

 

[Gilgamesh]

Gilgamesh’s eyes resisted opening, but eventually, they obeyed discarding the crust that accumulated overnight. A bright shining light shot daggers into his brain. He sucked in through his teeth, as he brought a hand to shield himself from this assailant. I need to fire whoever recommended natural lighting in this godforsaken room. He let out a pained sigh. At least it cannot get much worse, the King thought to himself. However, the stench of the room had finally reached his nostrils. The blood-curdling smell of sex, sweet wine, and rancid vomit made Gilgamesh gag. His breath stank of it forcing him to taste the vile combination. It took all of his willpower not to throw up right there and then, and after a few moments, the urge subsided.

Gilgamesh took a look at his surroundings. He was in his throne room, littered with bottles of wine and puddles of puke. It must’ve been a great tour. A smashing success they will tell me. Everyone was laughing at my wit and admiring my great personality. If only I could remember. Yet, it was peculiar that there was not a soul in sight. They all must’ve been kicked out by his staff. What a shame, he had wanted to speak more with the acrobat and the cultist. The Golden Hero stumbled out of his throne, his feet kicking the debris on the floor. Thank god he didn’t have to clean any of this up. Oh how good it was to be king. He exited the room, putting his arm up to cover his eyes, and took a breath of fresh air.

“Good morning Your Highness!” a cheery voice exclaimed next to him. “Need I fetch you anything to eat?”

Gilgamesh recoiled in shock. He turned to see a petite woman, in servant’s clothes, speaking to him. His body relaxed, it was just the help. “Oh yes,” he exhaled in relief. “Fetch me a cup of coffee and quail eggs.”

“Right away, Your Majesty,” she let out a deep bow and began to scurry away. Before she rounded a corner she spoke up, “I will have someone clean the room as well.” She hesitated nervously before speaking again, “And forgive me if it's not my place, but you should change your excellency.”

The King scowled at her, narrowing his eyes. She yelped in fear before running to get him his food. “Uppity mongrel,” he murmured to himself. He took a look at himself and realized why that foul smell had trailed him. His shirt was completely soiled with yesterday’s debauchery. Huh, he thought to himself, I suppose I shouldn’t cut her tongue out for her insolence. He moved up to his bedroom to bathe and change.

The shower was reinvigorating. The sins of the past washed down Gilgamesh’s body and into the drain, making him feel renewed. He tossed the towel and his dirty clothes into the hamper, where eventually the maids would get to it. The Golden King put on some loose clothes to cover himself up before he walked towards the balcony. The breeze passed over his wet skin, the sun enveloping him in its warmth. And yet, he felt uneasy.

Gilgamesh’s head thumped in pain, driving him to his knees. “You are out of time,” a voice pulsated in his head. “You are out of time. You are out of time,” several voices began to screech into his ears.

“Guards, I am under attack!” the king cried out. Holding his hands to his ears, attempting to block out the painful voices.

“The ritual is almost done. Your people, nothing but bones. Your city, nothing but ash. Your kingdom, nothing but an empty ruin.” the voices groaned.

“What do you want, you dogs!?” Gilgamesh managed to choke out.

“Vengeance. Revenge. Salvation. Penance. Justice,” a sea of voices all called out at once, jumbling the words together. Soon the words were undiscernible, the chorus crescendo'd until a final note, “Peace.”

A vision appeared in Gilgamesh’s mind, similar to one of the nights prior. A man, cloaked in a robe with a glowing crystal in his palm, dead aliens surrounded his feet. With a flick of his wrist, the corpses contorted in unnatural fashion, bones creaking attempting to resist the necromancer’s will. But eventually, the corpses did as they were told and rose. The vision faded, and a single voice stood above the rest.

“He annihiliated my people,” the voice boomed. “And he will not stop there. Our souls are keeping that man imprisoned in our temple, but as we speak he is performing a ritual. A ritual that will consume the souls of all living things nearby, giving him the power to break free.”

“And why would your poor tale concern me? A weak magus, relying on the deceased does not scare me,” Gilgamesh seethed through his teeth.

“I thought you would like to know that the temple is only a few miles away from your dear Uruk,” the voice condescended. Gilgamesh’s heart quickened a beat. “If you wish to keep your empire, you will enter the temple, kill the necromancer, and place the artifact where it justly belongs. This will protect your people, and give mine peace.”

The King bit his cheek, he couldn’t afford to be wrong with this. Not when so many lives were on the line. He let out a pained sigh, “Fine, but stay out of my head,” he commanded. “I will raze your temple if you dare to defile my mind again.”

The disembodied voice let out a laugh, “What a bold spirit! I will do what I have to do. You would do the same for your people. Go, now. There is not much time, the ritual is almost complete. Bring safety to your people and bring peace to mine.”

The voice faded away, and it finally felt like Gilgamesh was alone. It wasn’t long before guards burst in the door, armed. They scanned the room before their eyes met the King’s. One of the guards ran to meet Gilgamesh, helping him off the floor.

“Are you alright your majesty? Where are the intruders?” he asked.

Gilgamesh waved off the guard's concern, “It was of no concern, I handled it.” The guard’s body relaxed a bit. “Though I do need something. Prepare me a voyage to Temple of Ilos.”

"Chaos Theory"
Quest Length: 20,000
Words Written: 11,886

 

[Gilgamesh]

The journey to the temple was incredibly pleasant. The cloudy sky provided relief from the sun, and the breeze tickled his skin. A soldier clad in ancient armor, riding a horse, strode up to the palanquin window. “We are approaching the temple, my Liege,” the solider announced, awaiting a response

Gilgamesh shifted in his seat impatiently, “It’s about time,” he grumbled. “Very well, have my stool ready for me,” he commanded, callously waving his hand. The guard nodded in acknowledgment and slowed the pace of his horse. The commander shouted commands at a grunt, but the King couldn’t make out the specific words. It was of no importance as he didn’t have time to deal with the common footsoldier.

A few minutes passed before the horses in front of them stopped with a whinny. They must have arrived. The soldiers dismounted from their horses and scrambled next to the King’s carriage with hushed whispers and quiet arguments. The captain approached the window and bowed, “We have arrived, your majesty.”

“Very good,” Gilgamesh commended as he opened the door of his palanquin, the bright sun attacking his eyes. He raised a hand to shield himself from the light as he exited his palanquin. He stepped out and placed his boot on a stool, which let out a soft ‘oof’. A quick assessment determined that one of his guards acted as a human stool. The guard’s body tensed and his arms shook as the King shifted his weight on and off the man. Gilgamesh’s boots clattered on the sandy marble floor. “You may stand,” the Golden King commanded to the grunt.

“Yes, my king,” the soldier blurted, scrambling to collect himself.

The area itself had fallen to ruin. The residencies surrounding the temple were hardly recognizable as dwelling places. Rubble littered the plaza and the walls still standing had mostly withered away from the harsh conditions of the desert. The temple in the center, by comparison, was relatively intact. It had all four walls and a roof, supported by thick marble columns. However, it was impossible to make out who this temple was enshrined to. All the details had been worn away from the various sandstorms so common to Mesa Roja. How long had this place been abandoned? Despite the blazing sun, the entrance was thick with shadow, and a sinister aura exuded from the temple. It screamed death. He was at the right place.

“My liege, would you like to have us clear the temple?” the captain exclaimed. “We shall prepare it for you---.”

Gilgamesh raised a hand, cutting him off. “No,” he ordered. His soldiers would die if they entered that place. Even with his protection, he would lose most of his men. “You will be guarding the horses from bandits. I have no desire to stay here longer than needed.”

“As you command, sire!” the soldier saluted. The captain broke his attention and began to bark commands at the retinue. The King snapped as he strode to the temple, his golden armor coalescing around his body. It sparked against the sunlight until the shadowy entrance swallowed him whole.

"Chaos Theory"
Quest Length: 20,000
Words Written: 12,405