Chapter 15 - Elsewhere...

The stairs were both wide and long and were designed for a centaurs’ gate. The male centaur running down them at the moment was taking them two at a time as he bolted to the bottom of the flight.

He was a massive man; his upper torso and equine physique bristled with strength. His hair and coat were raven black, with the dim light of the staircase reflecting off his hide.

At the bottom of the staircase was a thick wooden door that opened when its master approached. Beyond the door was a single circular room roughly forty feet in diameter. The walls and floors were littered with books, scrolls, tablets, jars, boxes, cabinets, and other things simply falling into the ‘knick-knack’ and ‘unknown’ categories. Baskets of various things also hung from the rafters and held still more items. The walls themselves were made of the same stonework the stairs had been carved from. In fact, if you were able to look closely enough you would notice that the room, stairs, and even the entire castle itself was carved out of a single piece of rock. The room contained no windows, and other than the doorway the centaur had just entered through there were no other exits. The room was also well lit even though the absence of any light sources was obvious.

In the center of the room was a dark wooden tripod holding a large wooden bowel filled with black liquid. The centaur came to a stop and peered into the dark pool. What he saw genuinely startled him.

‘Has something breeched the world-gates?’ he asked himself.

Waving his hand over the mirror surface of the bowel and mumbling an arcane syllable, he brought forth images of each remaining world-gate. They were all inert. With another wave of his hand he resumed the image that had caught his attention only a minute before.

“What manner of creature have you conjured?” he said aloud, not taking his gaze off the bowel.

He did not receive a reply.

“A very ingenious idea, using a creature with an amulet to retrieve another. However.”

The centaur held his hand above the black liquid and uttered a single sharp command. A bright bolt of electricity arced from his middle finger and struck the center of the black fluid.

“NO!!” screamed a small muffled voice.

The centaur turned and looked at the table near him. The table was covered with several flasks and tubes, but in the center was a crystal box no more than a foot long on each side. Inside the box was a ten-inch tall centauress. She had golden blond hair and tail, and her coat was only slightly darker. She wore no clothing, as there was nothing else in the box except her. The look on her face was one of shock, fear, disbelief, and utter rage.

“You don’t approve?” asked the centaur to the tiny figure.

“You killed a child!” she screamed as she pounded her fists against the walls of her container, “How could you be so cruel as to kill a child?!”

“Oh?” asked the centaur, raising an eyebrow. He turned his attention back to the bowel on the tripod and peered in. “My my, you are correct. A young girl named...” He held out his hand over the black liquid. “Elena.”

He turned his attention back to the woman in the box, “No matter. She will be confined with the others until I can collect them.”

The woman in the box slumped to the floor crying. In all her seasons of being she had never encountered a soul so cruel as this man.

The centaur, unmoved by the woman’s emotions, picked up a small flask connected to the crystal box and examined its contents. The amount of fluid it contained was little more than two or three drops.

“If you find all this so painful, you should stop resisting and give me what I want. I promised you I would be swift and merciful.”

“Like you were to the child?” she spat back, her words laden with hatred.

“An unfortunate incident,” he replied with mock sorrow, “She was unknown to you, and you were unknown to her. She will be one of the first to know only me as their god.”

“You will never be a god,” said the centauress, “You may have power, and you may get the knowledge, but you will never be a god.”

The comment made the centaur smile, “Spoken like someone with absolutely no control over the situation.”

The sadness in the woman’s face was swept away with the anger that replaced it, “How can you be so callous to the pain you have caused?”

“The ‘pain’, as you so bluntly put it, has made me what I am today,” he replied, with a hint of anger now showing in his voice, “I have known more pain than anyone else could possibly imagine. Have you forgotten Shahira, then Shaniddia, then-”

“All lies,” interrupted the woman, “You never loved them. They were a means to an end.”

The centaur paused for a moment, “You’re right. I was young and foolish back then, contented to gain power over a few others. But in retrospect,” he paused, looking at the flask he was holding, “I can see I was setting my goals rather low.” He set the flask back down and headed towards the door. “Sorry I have to leave you,” he lied, “but becoming a god takes quite a bit of work.”

The door obediently closed behind him and the ambient light in the room vanished.