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Meteorite
- Joined
- May 9, 2023
- Location
- Eastern Europe
#
This is strictly non-sexual safe-for-work-short story in a dark fantasy setting. I plan to post more and better in the future. The writing is amateur, expect to cringe. I am looking for feedback from experienced writers and casual readers alike.
###
Whichever direction one looked, they would see entirely grey landscape before them. Ahead lay a mountain range, almost entirely consisting of black rock. Before it was a large strip of barren wasteland. The ground was cracked and covered with fissures, making the approach perilous for unprepared travelers. Behind, for as far as eyes could see, was a desert of ash. A lonely traveler slowly walked the one of the few well-trod trails into the mountains.
The sky was entirely overcast with dense dark clouds. Only sometimes a bright flash of light would shine through. Just then one such bright flash split the sky and illuminated the land below. The world briefly turned from shades of grey into a stark contrast of shining white and devouring black.
The traveler looked up as it happened. These streaks of light weren't a natural occurrence. The traveler was one of the relatively few, who knew the true origin of the lights. They were signs of catastrophic battles fought far away. Too far away for the dwellers of this moon to care, apparently. Even among those who knew exactly who was fighting whom and why, no one ever felt the need to discuss it. This frame of mind was hard for him to understand, hence why he looked up idly into the sky as he pondered this.
Unlike the rest of the surface of the moon, that returned to it's original grey colour after the light vanished, the traveling man remained bright, as if he was his own source of light. Rather, no shade could ever lay on him.
The traveler was a tall and handsome man. His long hair, that reached almost to his waist, was white, with subtle hues of gold. It was tied behind his head in a tail, decorated with a precious hair pin. His facial features were thin and sharp. His face was clean and eyes narrow. Only his face and hands were exposed. He was dressed in fanciful baggy clothes with intricate embroidery and other decorations. His chest was covered with a shining metal breastplate. On his hip swayed a straight sword in a scabbard.
He was very unlike most travelers that dared to follow this trail. But appearances similar to his weren't entirely unheard of either.
This traveler was a knight. He went where his master ordered, and executed every required task. Due to his appearance, most referred to him personally by the alias of "The White knight".
###
At least, normally White knight would receive explicit commands from his master. The last command that he did receive was to settle a dispute between two neighboring city-states, permanently. After he was finished, he remained on standby for some time, awaiting new orders. None immediately followed, so he remained idle for a while. Eventually, he decided that since his last directive was to establish peace, he must continue propagating peace in this region on his own initiative and discretion, until otherwise instructed.
Communicating with the natives was extremely difficult. This is part of the reason why he always relied on his master, who was very eloquent, for direction. Despite it, eventually White knight managed to piece together that there was indeed a problem worthy of his attention.
Apparently, a tribe hunters on this border failed to pay their taxes for a long time now, which started to affect the operation of the fortress city from where he was currently traveling from. After a short investigation, it turned out that a giant imposed a toll on the locals, thus depriving the lord of the fortress of his taxes.
For the natives, a giant was a very troublesome opponent. White knight hoped to settle the matter through negotiation, to preserve the balance of power in the region as much as possible.
There were quite a few different variants of what the natives called "giants". In actuality a "giant" to the natives was almost anything that was taller than them and at least potentially hostile. Even White knight himself was sometimes referred to by the ignorants as a "giant". Considering even a hero-warrior of the natives barely reached to White knight's waist in height, it was somewhat understandable.
###
White knight knew exactly where to go. He continued to slowly walk the mountain trail. Eventually, he reached a steep narrow slope, leading him upwards. To his left was a sheer drop to the previous wind of the trail. To his right, was a mountain face covered with sharp rocks. The narrow path continued like this until it turned right some distance away and vanished from sight. He needed to pass this particularly dangerous part of the trail to reach his destination.
However, first time in a long while, White knight was not a alone on his journey.
A short distance in front of him stood a native. His skin was dark green, peculiar to this region. He was almost entirely naked. If White knight stood right beside him, the native would have reached up to White knight's waist in height. Meaning, this one was especially tall for a native.
The native's body was lean and muscular. He wore a crude black cape that covered his head and shoulders, but didn't protect all of his back. Unkempt hair stuck from under the cover. He wore trinkets of shiny smooth rocks and bone fragments, that were attached to string wrapped around his limbs and body. He was armed with a short cudgel made of bone.
The native stood on the left side of the path. His torso was turned towards approaching White knight, but the native's head was turned down and away. He looked intently at the trail below, without shifting his gaze, as if he expected someone to appear down there at any moment. His body was completely stiff and he did not move.
There were more like him. Further up the slope and along the trail more natives could be found, who were similarly equipped.
Some of them stood by the sides of the trail. Others sat on the ground. All were placed at uneven intervals from one another. Everyone looked in a different direction. They gave an impression that none of them were a part of the same group. Some were quietly staring at each other, as if listening intently to someone speak. But it was completely silent, and no one moved.
In total, there were twelve natives.
White knight knew exactly what was happening. They were a hunter band.
A hunter was the most common occupation for a male native, outside the major fortress cities. Natives could only sustain their bodies by taking from other living creatures. As such, the hunter's primary job was to venture into dangerous regions, from there, obtain the remains of carrion animals, usually by killing them, and then bring the goods back for processing and redistribution.
Beside that, while out in the wild, any hunter will immediately attack every other native on first sight, if they believe themselves easily victorious. The only scenario when this would not be the case, is when the hunters were specifically forewarned to spare a specific person or group of people at a specific time by their direct superiors.
This was not the case here. It clearly was supposed to be an ambush. White knight felt the hunters' presence long before they saw him in turn. Before they arrayed themselves on the trail to seem as inconspicuous as possible, they hid behind rocks and lay in wait in crevices in the ground, their weapons ready.
When they finally realized that a knight was approaching, they immediately abandoned their plans and made their best effort to appear as unthreatening to White knight as possible. All of them knew that they had absolutely no chance of harming a knight.
White knight felt that it was overall a very pitiful display. He tried to put the hunters at ease by addressing them.
"Greetings, warriors. Do not be alarmed. I--"
White knight didn't finish his sentence. The hunter who stood closest to him, suddenly took a low stance and jumped down to the trail below, risking major injury, scratching and bruising himself in the process. He ran as fast as he could to be as far away from White knight as possible.
Others scattered moments later. Some followed their supposed leader, some climbed the sheer rock face, and others hid in crevices on the ground.
White knight didn't bother pursuing them or saying anything else. He calmly continued on his path. He completely exorcised the hunter band from his mind long before he could no longer sense their presence.
###
White knight covered the rest of the trail without issue. Finally, he reached his destination. It was a tiny cave, more of a niche in a rock face. He could already feel the presence he was looking for, but even if he couldn't, old carcasses that he encountered recently gave away that he was getting close to the goal.
White knight finally arrived at the home of the giant that supposedly terrorized the region. In the far back of the cave was a huge pile of broken clay pottery and other waste. Closer to the entrance was a small fireplace, burning with white flames and a faint glow. On the fire was a large intact clay casket with a lid. On the other side of the cave, on top of a purposefully placed stone slab, were scattered more valuable items, like utensils and metal tools. The latter in particular were priceless treasures to most natives.
Right in the center of the cave sat it's owner, the giant.
The giant was almost as tall as White knight while sitting cross legged on the ground. He had a thick black mane that completely covered his head, neck and chest. It was impossible to tell where his beard ended and the hair of his groin started. Only his eyes, nose, arms, fat sides of his belly and his feet were mostly free of thick black hair. The little exposed skin was pale grey.
The giant shifted his head slightly at the intruder. His eyes were very small for his enormous head and were placed far apart. It was difficult to see, but his eyes did not have pupils like natives normally do. Instead they were completely black and reflected the fire with multicolored oily sheen.
White knight hurriedly began his introductions.
"Greetings, elder. I am a knight in service to my master. I came to your home to discuss matters of great importance with you personally. Will you hear me?"
The giant listened patiently. His sturdy and sharp teeth flashed even from under his beard as he responded.
"Moment..."
The giant turned his face away from White knight and in the direction of the fireplace. He leaned forward and reached out with his hand to what may have looked like a pile of strange sticks.
Something moved on the ground as the giant did so. It was a captured native. It was completely nude and emaciated, curling into a ball on the ground. But when they felt the giant's hand reaching out to them, they meekly resisted, kicking weakly and moaning as they did.
The giant took both of the native's arms in the palm of his left hand, and both of their feet in his right. At that point, the native started to panic and scream in earnest. It didn't last long. The giant firmly grasped their limbs, and yanked in the opposite directions with considerable force.
Normally, a native's body will simply be torn in half. What happened here instead, is that the native's limbs stretched out as far as they possibly could in both directions, and locked in place. Their jaws slacked wide open and their eyes rolled back. The native's entire body went completely stiff and was stretched into a straight line.
The giant changed his grip on the native's body, gently holding them in the middle. He then added this one to the four other natives who were similarly petrified. In the end, it looked like five sticks neatly leaned against each other in a circle, like some sort of installation or food processing method.
The giant returned his complete attention to White knight, as he rested his elbows on his upper legs, letting his hands droop down in front of him.
"I am listening."
###
White knight thought nothing of the dead or paralyzed natives. What was far more important, is that he managed to confirm that this was a warlock, without needing to ask or explain anything. This saves time. Peaceful resolution is very probable.
Originally, warlocks were a category of sagely natives who were tasked with preservation of spiritual health of the civilization on this moon. However, gradually over time, the sages decided to hoard the knowledge for themselves. Instead of freely sharing when asked, they set prices on it.
In the end, most of the knowledge was lost, civilization as a whole suffered, and even individual power of sages greatly diminished. Most remaining warlocks drop the pretense of being sagely, and simply murder and steal using their mystic abilities to obtain what they want. White knight hoped this one isn't quite like that.
###
"A tribe of hunters from that side of the mountain range suffer under your oppression. It is unbefitting of a great sage like yourself to prey upon the weak. Please, find it in your heart to spare them, or find another home."
The warlock responded in an amicable tone.
"I see. So, what did they promise you if you step in on their behalf?"
White knight raised one of his eyebrows.
"Nothing. I do this as a service to my master, to whom the tribesmen are also sworn, even if they sometimes forget it."
The giant chuckled lightly at this, flashing his sharp pointed teeth again.
"In other words, you want me to take pity on weaklings that cannot solve their own problems. That cannot even pay recompense to their defender. Most importantly, they never asked for your help and maybe don't even know you are helping them."
He slowly shook his head.
"No, they are no concern of mine. If they cannot pay appropriate tribute to me, like all other tribes do, then I will find some other way to extract my due. Nothing more, nothing else. If you are willing to take the arrangements of tribute on their behalf, it is fine with me."
White knight quirked his lips. He knew what the tribute was and he knew that he couldn't produce it out of thin air, even if he was actually willing to present it. Maybe a single installment would have been worth a peaceful resolution to this case. But the very nature of this tribute is perpetual, so White knight could not agree to it no matter how he looked at it.
"I am afraid this is not possible, elder. Surely, it is much easier for you to temper your expectations of the tribes, than for them to continue suffering for your amusement."
It was almost impossible to tell due to the thick black mane of the warlock, but he probably furrowed his brows in displeasure.
"I require sustenance, like any living creature. None can fault me for surviving with my own hard work. I wasn't born a king of this mountain. I had to be patient, suffer defeats, and learn from them. Now, I collect the rewards that I justly earned."
White knight started to get annoyed at the warlock's stubbornness. His voice was more stern now.
"Service is rendered onto others first. This is the nature of living beings to support each other. Tribesmen support their families and their distant masters, and receive their sustenance in return. But you only exploit them for your own gain... Elder."
The warlock's smug smile was apparent in his voice, even if it was invisible under his beard.
"After I receive an appropriate gift, I make sure that a beautiful girl that should never have been afflicted with a deadly disease, recovers timely and completely. Or, I make sure that an old hag that should have died long ago continues to be serviced by the rest of her tribe in perpetuity. I treat my supporters equally. This is a much more valuable service. I cannot be replaced just as easily as some hunter who can only dig out old bones from the ash desert."
"The strong must protect those in need, compensating for their shortcomings. Not come up with excuses to distance themselves."
The warlock snorted loudly.
"Do you even know how your precious charges ended up not being able to pay their usual respects to me?"
White knight stared at the warlock silently, with his lips sealed tight. He didn't think it was relevant, but he didn't want to anger the warlock further. He was still looking in his mind for a way to convince the warlock to leave peacefully. He couldn't understand why someone of his power absolutely insisted that he was owed something by a tiny tribe of hunters. After a brief pause, the warlock continued.
"When the tribe was in ascendant, they sent their strongest hunters to steal females from their rivals. But they were outsmarted and ambushed. With their strength sapped, they could no longer maintain their territory. It is their own fault for being stupid. Now you stand inside my home and tell me with a straight face that I owe you favors because your underlings are fools."
White knight sighed tiredly.
"Both of the feuding tribes belong to the same master, they just don't know it. I protect their interests and that of our mutual master equally."
White knight inclined his head slightly in exasperation.
"Surely you can find someone else to inflict your ridiculous laws upon."
The warlock leaned forward slowly.
"I lived in these mountains long before either of the tribes arrived here. I will remain here long after they are gone, and the ones that come after them are gone."
The warlock raised his voice as he glared icily at the knight. He raised elbows high into the air as he put his hands firmly on the ground.
"If you find everything about my home world so irksome, then maybe it is __you__ who should pick up and leave."
A bright flash of light filled the cave. After it vanished, a faint glimpse of surprise could be seen on the warlock's face. The ground was splattered with blood and fat. White knight held his spotless sword that glowed faintly with blue light. The warlock was gripping his left shoulder with his other hand. Thick smoke was coming from where he was struck and dispersing into the air. White knight glared angrily at the warlock as he slowly collapsed backwards. But instead of a pile of decaying flesh, the warlock's carcass folded upon itself like rags.
"That's enough nonsense out of you, filth!"
White knight watched closely as the warlock's spirit was quickly carried away by mystic winds, to be crushed and molded into a new form. The knight stood motionless in the same spot from where he talked to the warlock. His head was slightly inclined downward.
That final statement stung. It stung, because it was true.
Everything about this moon and it's natives unnerved him. He felt lost and confused at every turn, as he desperately tried to build a facade of unyielding confidence. Not a single location on this moon remained the same after the second time he visited. No one shared his concerns, or even cared to inquire. Not even his master. Absolutely everyone maintained that this is how it was always intended to be.
If he knew where his mission would eventually lead, he would never have taken his vow. However, his dignity wouldn't allow him to turn back or admit defeat.
After the warlock's presence vanished entirely, the knight's anger cooled down. He offered a silent prayer to his Lord. Not the master he temporarily serves now, but his true King. The knight thanked Him, that there are no one around who can sense his thoughts.
This is strictly non-sexual safe-for-work-short story in a dark fantasy setting. I plan to post more and better in the future. The writing is amateur, expect to cringe. I am looking for feedback from experienced writers and casual readers alike.
###
Whichever direction one looked, they would see entirely grey landscape before them. Ahead lay a mountain range, almost entirely consisting of black rock. Before it was a large strip of barren wasteland. The ground was cracked and covered with fissures, making the approach perilous for unprepared travelers. Behind, for as far as eyes could see, was a desert of ash. A lonely traveler slowly walked the one of the few well-trod trails into the mountains.
The sky was entirely overcast with dense dark clouds. Only sometimes a bright flash of light would shine through. Just then one such bright flash split the sky and illuminated the land below. The world briefly turned from shades of grey into a stark contrast of shining white and devouring black.
The traveler looked up as it happened. These streaks of light weren't a natural occurrence. The traveler was one of the relatively few, who knew the true origin of the lights. They were signs of catastrophic battles fought far away. Too far away for the dwellers of this moon to care, apparently. Even among those who knew exactly who was fighting whom and why, no one ever felt the need to discuss it. This frame of mind was hard for him to understand, hence why he looked up idly into the sky as he pondered this.
Unlike the rest of the surface of the moon, that returned to it's original grey colour after the light vanished, the traveling man remained bright, as if he was his own source of light. Rather, no shade could ever lay on him.
The traveler was a tall and handsome man. His long hair, that reached almost to his waist, was white, with subtle hues of gold. It was tied behind his head in a tail, decorated with a precious hair pin. His facial features were thin and sharp. His face was clean and eyes narrow. Only his face and hands were exposed. He was dressed in fanciful baggy clothes with intricate embroidery and other decorations. His chest was covered with a shining metal breastplate. On his hip swayed a straight sword in a scabbard.
He was very unlike most travelers that dared to follow this trail. But appearances similar to his weren't entirely unheard of either.
This traveler was a knight. He went where his master ordered, and executed every required task. Due to his appearance, most referred to him personally by the alias of "The White knight".
###
At least, normally White knight would receive explicit commands from his master. The last command that he did receive was to settle a dispute between two neighboring city-states, permanently. After he was finished, he remained on standby for some time, awaiting new orders. None immediately followed, so he remained idle for a while. Eventually, he decided that since his last directive was to establish peace, he must continue propagating peace in this region on his own initiative and discretion, until otherwise instructed.
Communicating with the natives was extremely difficult. This is part of the reason why he always relied on his master, who was very eloquent, for direction. Despite it, eventually White knight managed to piece together that there was indeed a problem worthy of his attention.
Apparently, a tribe hunters on this border failed to pay their taxes for a long time now, which started to affect the operation of the fortress city from where he was currently traveling from. After a short investigation, it turned out that a giant imposed a toll on the locals, thus depriving the lord of the fortress of his taxes.
For the natives, a giant was a very troublesome opponent. White knight hoped to settle the matter through negotiation, to preserve the balance of power in the region as much as possible.
There were quite a few different variants of what the natives called "giants". In actuality a "giant" to the natives was almost anything that was taller than them and at least potentially hostile. Even White knight himself was sometimes referred to by the ignorants as a "giant". Considering even a hero-warrior of the natives barely reached to White knight's waist in height, it was somewhat understandable.
###
White knight knew exactly where to go. He continued to slowly walk the mountain trail. Eventually, he reached a steep narrow slope, leading him upwards. To his left was a sheer drop to the previous wind of the trail. To his right, was a mountain face covered with sharp rocks. The narrow path continued like this until it turned right some distance away and vanished from sight. He needed to pass this particularly dangerous part of the trail to reach his destination.
However, first time in a long while, White knight was not a alone on his journey.
A short distance in front of him stood a native. His skin was dark green, peculiar to this region. He was almost entirely naked. If White knight stood right beside him, the native would have reached up to White knight's waist in height. Meaning, this one was especially tall for a native.
The native's body was lean and muscular. He wore a crude black cape that covered his head and shoulders, but didn't protect all of his back. Unkempt hair stuck from under the cover. He wore trinkets of shiny smooth rocks and bone fragments, that were attached to string wrapped around his limbs and body. He was armed with a short cudgel made of bone.
The native stood on the left side of the path. His torso was turned towards approaching White knight, but the native's head was turned down and away. He looked intently at the trail below, without shifting his gaze, as if he expected someone to appear down there at any moment. His body was completely stiff and he did not move.
There were more like him. Further up the slope and along the trail more natives could be found, who were similarly equipped.
Some of them stood by the sides of the trail. Others sat on the ground. All were placed at uneven intervals from one another. Everyone looked in a different direction. They gave an impression that none of them were a part of the same group. Some were quietly staring at each other, as if listening intently to someone speak. But it was completely silent, and no one moved.
In total, there were twelve natives.
White knight knew exactly what was happening. They were a hunter band.
A hunter was the most common occupation for a male native, outside the major fortress cities. Natives could only sustain their bodies by taking from other living creatures. As such, the hunter's primary job was to venture into dangerous regions, from there, obtain the remains of carrion animals, usually by killing them, and then bring the goods back for processing and redistribution.
Beside that, while out in the wild, any hunter will immediately attack every other native on first sight, if they believe themselves easily victorious. The only scenario when this would not be the case, is when the hunters were specifically forewarned to spare a specific person or group of people at a specific time by their direct superiors.
This was not the case here. It clearly was supposed to be an ambush. White knight felt the hunters' presence long before they saw him in turn. Before they arrayed themselves on the trail to seem as inconspicuous as possible, they hid behind rocks and lay in wait in crevices in the ground, their weapons ready.
When they finally realized that a knight was approaching, they immediately abandoned their plans and made their best effort to appear as unthreatening to White knight as possible. All of them knew that they had absolutely no chance of harming a knight.
White knight felt that it was overall a very pitiful display. He tried to put the hunters at ease by addressing them.
"Greetings, warriors. Do not be alarmed. I--"
White knight didn't finish his sentence. The hunter who stood closest to him, suddenly took a low stance and jumped down to the trail below, risking major injury, scratching and bruising himself in the process. He ran as fast as he could to be as far away from White knight as possible.
Others scattered moments later. Some followed their supposed leader, some climbed the sheer rock face, and others hid in crevices on the ground.
White knight didn't bother pursuing them or saying anything else. He calmly continued on his path. He completely exorcised the hunter band from his mind long before he could no longer sense their presence.
###
White knight covered the rest of the trail without issue. Finally, he reached his destination. It was a tiny cave, more of a niche in a rock face. He could already feel the presence he was looking for, but even if he couldn't, old carcasses that he encountered recently gave away that he was getting close to the goal.
White knight finally arrived at the home of the giant that supposedly terrorized the region. In the far back of the cave was a huge pile of broken clay pottery and other waste. Closer to the entrance was a small fireplace, burning with white flames and a faint glow. On the fire was a large intact clay casket with a lid. On the other side of the cave, on top of a purposefully placed stone slab, were scattered more valuable items, like utensils and metal tools. The latter in particular were priceless treasures to most natives.
Right in the center of the cave sat it's owner, the giant.
The giant was almost as tall as White knight while sitting cross legged on the ground. He had a thick black mane that completely covered his head, neck and chest. It was impossible to tell where his beard ended and the hair of his groin started. Only his eyes, nose, arms, fat sides of his belly and his feet were mostly free of thick black hair. The little exposed skin was pale grey.
The giant shifted his head slightly at the intruder. His eyes were very small for his enormous head and were placed far apart. It was difficult to see, but his eyes did not have pupils like natives normally do. Instead they were completely black and reflected the fire with multicolored oily sheen.
White knight hurriedly began his introductions.
"Greetings, elder. I am a knight in service to my master. I came to your home to discuss matters of great importance with you personally. Will you hear me?"
The giant listened patiently. His sturdy and sharp teeth flashed even from under his beard as he responded.
"Moment..."
The giant turned his face away from White knight and in the direction of the fireplace. He leaned forward and reached out with his hand to what may have looked like a pile of strange sticks.
Something moved on the ground as the giant did so. It was a captured native. It was completely nude and emaciated, curling into a ball on the ground. But when they felt the giant's hand reaching out to them, they meekly resisted, kicking weakly and moaning as they did.
The giant took both of the native's arms in the palm of his left hand, and both of their feet in his right. At that point, the native started to panic and scream in earnest. It didn't last long. The giant firmly grasped their limbs, and yanked in the opposite directions with considerable force.
Normally, a native's body will simply be torn in half. What happened here instead, is that the native's limbs stretched out as far as they possibly could in both directions, and locked in place. Their jaws slacked wide open and their eyes rolled back. The native's entire body went completely stiff and was stretched into a straight line.
The giant changed his grip on the native's body, gently holding them in the middle. He then added this one to the four other natives who were similarly petrified. In the end, it looked like five sticks neatly leaned against each other in a circle, like some sort of installation or food processing method.
The giant returned his complete attention to White knight, as he rested his elbows on his upper legs, letting his hands droop down in front of him.
"I am listening."
###
White knight thought nothing of the dead or paralyzed natives. What was far more important, is that he managed to confirm that this was a warlock, without needing to ask or explain anything. This saves time. Peaceful resolution is very probable.
Originally, warlocks were a category of sagely natives who were tasked with preservation of spiritual health of the civilization on this moon. However, gradually over time, the sages decided to hoard the knowledge for themselves. Instead of freely sharing when asked, they set prices on it.
In the end, most of the knowledge was lost, civilization as a whole suffered, and even individual power of sages greatly diminished. Most remaining warlocks drop the pretense of being sagely, and simply murder and steal using their mystic abilities to obtain what they want. White knight hoped this one isn't quite like that.
###
"A tribe of hunters from that side of the mountain range suffer under your oppression. It is unbefitting of a great sage like yourself to prey upon the weak. Please, find it in your heart to spare them, or find another home."
The warlock responded in an amicable tone.
"I see. So, what did they promise you if you step in on their behalf?"
White knight raised one of his eyebrows.
"Nothing. I do this as a service to my master, to whom the tribesmen are also sworn, even if they sometimes forget it."
The giant chuckled lightly at this, flashing his sharp pointed teeth again.
"In other words, you want me to take pity on weaklings that cannot solve their own problems. That cannot even pay recompense to their defender. Most importantly, they never asked for your help and maybe don't even know you are helping them."
He slowly shook his head.
"No, they are no concern of mine. If they cannot pay appropriate tribute to me, like all other tribes do, then I will find some other way to extract my due. Nothing more, nothing else. If you are willing to take the arrangements of tribute on their behalf, it is fine with me."
White knight quirked his lips. He knew what the tribute was and he knew that he couldn't produce it out of thin air, even if he was actually willing to present it. Maybe a single installment would have been worth a peaceful resolution to this case. But the very nature of this tribute is perpetual, so White knight could not agree to it no matter how he looked at it.
"I am afraid this is not possible, elder. Surely, it is much easier for you to temper your expectations of the tribes, than for them to continue suffering for your amusement."
It was almost impossible to tell due to the thick black mane of the warlock, but he probably furrowed his brows in displeasure.
"I require sustenance, like any living creature. None can fault me for surviving with my own hard work. I wasn't born a king of this mountain. I had to be patient, suffer defeats, and learn from them. Now, I collect the rewards that I justly earned."
White knight started to get annoyed at the warlock's stubbornness. His voice was more stern now.
"Service is rendered onto others first. This is the nature of living beings to support each other. Tribesmen support their families and their distant masters, and receive their sustenance in return. But you only exploit them for your own gain... Elder."
The warlock's smug smile was apparent in his voice, even if it was invisible under his beard.
"After I receive an appropriate gift, I make sure that a beautiful girl that should never have been afflicted with a deadly disease, recovers timely and completely. Or, I make sure that an old hag that should have died long ago continues to be serviced by the rest of her tribe in perpetuity. I treat my supporters equally. This is a much more valuable service. I cannot be replaced just as easily as some hunter who can only dig out old bones from the ash desert."
"The strong must protect those in need, compensating for their shortcomings. Not come up with excuses to distance themselves."
The warlock snorted loudly.
"Do you even know how your precious charges ended up not being able to pay their usual respects to me?"
White knight stared at the warlock silently, with his lips sealed tight. He didn't think it was relevant, but he didn't want to anger the warlock further. He was still looking in his mind for a way to convince the warlock to leave peacefully. He couldn't understand why someone of his power absolutely insisted that he was owed something by a tiny tribe of hunters. After a brief pause, the warlock continued.
"When the tribe was in ascendant, they sent their strongest hunters to steal females from their rivals. But they were outsmarted and ambushed. With their strength sapped, they could no longer maintain their territory. It is their own fault for being stupid. Now you stand inside my home and tell me with a straight face that I owe you favors because your underlings are fools."
White knight sighed tiredly.
"Both of the feuding tribes belong to the same master, they just don't know it. I protect their interests and that of our mutual master equally."
White knight inclined his head slightly in exasperation.
"Surely you can find someone else to inflict your ridiculous laws upon."
The warlock leaned forward slowly.
"I lived in these mountains long before either of the tribes arrived here. I will remain here long after they are gone, and the ones that come after them are gone."
The warlock raised his voice as he glared icily at the knight. He raised elbows high into the air as he put his hands firmly on the ground.
"If you find everything about my home world so irksome, then maybe it is __you__ who should pick up and leave."
A bright flash of light filled the cave. After it vanished, a faint glimpse of surprise could be seen on the warlock's face. The ground was splattered with blood and fat. White knight held his spotless sword that glowed faintly with blue light. The warlock was gripping his left shoulder with his other hand. Thick smoke was coming from where he was struck and dispersing into the air. White knight glared angrily at the warlock as he slowly collapsed backwards. But instead of a pile of decaying flesh, the warlock's carcass folded upon itself like rags.
"That's enough nonsense out of you, filth!"
White knight watched closely as the warlock's spirit was quickly carried away by mystic winds, to be crushed and molded into a new form. The knight stood motionless in the same spot from where he talked to the warlock. His head was slightly inclined downward.
That final statement stung. It stung, because it was true.
Everything about this moon and it's natives unnerved him. He felt lost and confused at every turn, as he desperately tried to build a facade of unyielding confidence. Not a single location on this moon remained the same after the second time he visited. No one shared his concerns, or even cared to inquire. Not even his master. Absolutely everyone maintained that this is how it was always intended to be.
If he knew where his mission would eventually lead, he would never have taken his vow. However, his dignity wouldn't allow him to turn back or admit defeat.
After the warlock's presence vanished entirely, the knight's anger cooled down. He offered a silent prayer to his Lord. Not the master he temporarily serves now, but his true King. The knight thanked Him, that there are no one around who can sense his thoughts.