by Renee "Kindrianna" Booke
The Troxl were deeply troubled by
Notl-Nuhtletl’s words and decided amongst themselves that something should be
done. If the land was suffering, and disease was spreading, their home and
their way of life were in danger. To them, there seemed but one course of
action they could take. Ekkaku led the Troxl to join with Notl-Nuhtletl’s
people, and together the two groups approached the lands of the Krezazu. The stench
of decay could be identified upon the winds before they had even reached the
border. It was an odor so abhorrent, that even their tested stomachs churned.
Ekkaku and Notl-Nuhtletl exchanged worried glances, but there was no turning
back.
The closer they got to the Krezazu, the direr the situation became. Notl-Nuhtletl had not been exaggerating. Fish were floating downstream, their flesh dissolved by the eerie green waters that had once been teeming with life. Frogs and turtles who fled the corruptive influence now lay dying upon the shore in massive numbers. The trees that once shaded the banks of the streams and swamps were black and lifeless, falling apart as though they were made of paper. There was death beyond imagining. The Troxl were horrified by these atrocities, and it was Notl-Nuhtletl’s strength that pushed them forward.
“Do not forget why we have come,” she said defiantly, gesturing
to the devastation. “Channel your despair and find the strength to do what
needs to be done,” she commanded.
The Troxl found courage in her confidence, forcing
themselves onward into the heart of Krezazu territory. The sky here was hazy
and green, a twisted viridian hue that glowed with otherworldly brightness that
defied a need for sunlight. The deeper they went; they could feel a growing
number of eyes upon them, peering hungrily out of the acrid fog.
Sensing the hostility, Ekkaku stepped forward and held up a
hand in greeting. The Krezazu’s suspicion and anger regarding this intrusion
was palpable, and the gesture surprised them.
“We are here to entreat with Chieftess Sretta of the
Krezazu!” Ekkaku proclaimed.
A nearby voice hissed in reply, and one pair of haunting
yellow eyes grew larger as one of the Kul’Matha emerged from hiding. “Who are
you to speak with the Chieftess?” it demanded to know. “You who are weak and
frail, you who spurns the strength of warriors by saving the feeble and
powerless! What right do you have to stand before Chieftess Sretta, the Undying?”
“I am Ekkaku of the Troxl! I am neither weak nor frail. I
take from the earth that which it gives freely, to sustain the lives of others.
I speak the languages of plants, toads, and snakes; able to weave both reeds and
magic to create futures. My mastery and knowledge of anatomy means I know more
than a thousand ways to kill you where you stand, but I have the restraint and the
compassion not to,” Ekkaku said, unwavering in the face of the taunting
Krezazu. “I am Ekkaku of the Troxl, and by that right, I will see your
Chieftess.”
