Chapter 10: Chapter 9: Deals

Chapter 9: Deals

Reoh wanders through the mountain range, lantern in hand as the moonlight overhead helps guide him.

“Why do they have to live all the way out here…”

He makes his way into the confines of a small cave, dimly illuminated by torches hammered into the stone walls. Tattered purple banners are hoisted high into the air with wooden beams. He comes to a stop in front of an old and rotten door.

“Finally…”

Reoh walks through a large wooden door, the inside of the room beckoning him with a familiar glow. As he steps inside, he sees Gon and Manho sitting around a campfire, burning with a golden flame. They both look over at Reoh, nodding their heads and gesturing for him to join them by the fire.

The Chieftain reluctantly makes his way over to the fire, placing the lantern down beside him as he takes seat on the floor.

“I’m glad you could finally join us, Reoh.” Gon stands up and walks over to him, extending his hand out for a handshake.

“...It’s a pleasure,” there’s a hint of terror in his voice as he accepts the handshake.

“As you are aware,” Gon begins to slowly pace around the fire, “our Lord Manho has reawakened. He stands before you, though he lacks a throne and power. Do you remember just how long it’s been since you’ve sealed Manho?”

“Uhh… 300 years or so. It was before Redville manifested.”

“Only 300…” Manho whispers to himself, “one hundred too early.”

“If 400 years was the planned duration, then you should have regained most of your power after 300 years, right my Lord?” Reoh’s voice is shaky as he looks over at Manho.

“No.” Gon speaks up in Manho’s stead. “It was imperative that you provide the flame with constant fuel throughout those 400 years. You, however, provided little to none. If you provided subsequent fuel, then Manho would’ve had plenty of power already. I can sense it myself, as it stands now… Manho is weaker than me.”

Reoh smiles nervously and looks away. “Oh..! Right. Uh. I was… doing… other things.”

“Like what?” Gon takes a step closer to Reoh, clenching his fist.

“Like tending to my village. What else do you think I was doing? I had a family to raise, and I still have villagers I need to protect and nourish.”

“Those villagers are fuel.”

“Fuel? Is that all they are to you?”

Reoh stands up, tilting his head back to look Gon in the eyes.

“To me, they are family. Those are my people. Innocent young men, women, and children with lives ahead of them; dreams, desires, and ambitions. You know what fuel I gave you? I gave you crops and cattle to give to the flame. Those bandits? I let them have it, because in no world am I going to sacrifice my own people for the expendable life of another man. It’s your job to make sure those bandits gave those crops to the flame. Instead, you let them get away with eating it every day. That’s not my fault, it’s your fault.”

Gon narrows his eyes. “My fault? You were the one who agreed to be part of this entire operation. You were well aware of the sacrifices you would need to make, and you still failed to deliver.”

“Then consider me-”

“Reoh,” Manho calls out to him, standing up straight and dusting off his cloak, “Gon told me that you have a place in your basement where you imprison vile criminals. Do you consider them to be your people?”

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“No.”

“I have to ask, why not use them as fuel for the flame? They are shackled and chained, and you do not treat them as equals regardless. You do not care for them, and punishments await them all the same. Death to the flame would be fitting, yes?”

Reoh is silent for a few seconds. “I can agree to this.”

“Take me there.”

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In the dead of night, the three of them make their way into the Chieftain’s humble abode without anyone noticing. Reoh leads them down to the basement. He unlocks the door leading to the prison area and the three make their way inside.

A single lantern dangles from the ceiling by a chain, illuminated with a dim flame. Inside the room, a painting of a large Magic Circle sits on the wall, drawn with old red paint that began to peel. Cages are hung from the ceiling by a rope and prisoners rot away inside. They all look malnourished, if not already dead, their skin shriveled and pale with dull, lifeless eyes.

“Prisoners of war are often left in better condition than this,” Manho starts to slowly pace around the room, staring at the prisoners.

“Is their condition important?” Reoh asked.

“Yes,” Manho nods in confirmation, “though it only makes a noticeable difference when the victim is incredibly powerful.”

“Prisoners like these… their condition would make no difference?”

“Not one bit.”

Manho stops for a moment, as one of the prisoners catches his eye. Within one of the cages was a young lady with pale skin. Her long, white hair covered most of her face. Deer antlers protrude outwards from her head, knocking gently against the cage as it sways back and forth through the air.

“Reoh, who is this young lady?” Manho kept his eyes on her while inquiring.

“I don’t know her name, but she was found eating the dead bodies of lost villagers in the forest. I have reason to believe she killed them before feasting on their corpses.”

“Interesting.” Manho steps away, walking over to Reoh. “May I head to the library and indulge in some literature? I will return the books when I am finished.”

Reoh nods in confirmation. “Of course. As long as you disappear before the sun rises.”

Manho nods in return. “Thank you. Gon, you take the prisoners out of the cages and take them back to the flame. Leave the white-haired girl here. I’ll be taking my leave.”

Manho makes his way out of the basement, leaving Gon and Reoh in the room. As soon as he left, Gon immediately takes hefty, confrontational steps towards Reoh, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

“So you think you can get away with this, don’t you?” Gon hissed

“What do you mean?” Reoh steps back away from Gon, an invisible weight pressing down onto his shoulders.

“You’re lucky that he let you off so easily. You failed to uphold your end of the deal. While Lord Manho himself may be satisfied with this – I am not. I made it very clear that you were to provide constant fuel to the flame while he was sealed and you failed to do even that. This…”

Gon gestures to the prisoners in the room.

“...This does not make up for your failure. I will make you repent.”

Reoh chuckles quietly. Although fearful, he knew that Gon wouldn’t be able to do much to him. Reoh was on Manho’s good side, at least from what he knew. The entire reason the cultists were able to go unnoticed for so long is because of Reoh. Gon couldn’t dispute that.

“And how do you plan to make me repent? You should realize that the entire reason you have been able to lay low for so long is because of me. My people might be catching on, but I can direct their attention away from your rituals and such. Quit acting so uptight, Gon, you need me-”

Gon suddenly reaches out and grabs Reoh firmly by the neck, lifting him up into the air.

“You make no difference in our place. Your villagers are worthless fish in the sea, entirely expendable. You act to spare their lives, because you know if any of them were to approach me, they would be reduced to dust. If you truly want to believe that you’re the reason we’ve maintained our anonymity, then I will show you otherwise.”

Gon tightens his grip on Reoh’s neck as the chieftain’s windpipe starts to close.

“I will hold you by your throat and force you to watch as I burn your second-hand village to the ground with my bloodied hand. You will watch, your heart torn from agony as you are splattered with the blood of your own people. Your lands will reek of the death and famine I will leave in my wake, and you will collapse to your knees, bawling as tears run down the sides of your face like a river while you pray to your false god for hope that will never come to you. When I am done, your people, your home, your crops, your cattle, your family, your friends, those young men, those young women, those young children; and those dreams, ambitions, and desires you all chase like moths to a flame: will be nothing but ash.”