Enmity of Atlas

Trenton crouched low to the ground, calculating direction and distance. It looked like it was coming from the east and heading straight west, it’s heading slow and labored. Something tickled far back in Trenton, a memory bubbling to the surface. Back in Aria, before the attack, he had said they’d fought a giant outside of Dasellium which came down from the mountains. If Trenton remembered correctly, the light's position would put it perfectly on the path to do just that, head straight east from the Thalian to Dasellium. And sure enough, as the light got closer, the form of the giant came into clarity. Hauling itself through the desert, illuminated by its icy beard and body, was a colossal frost giant, easily a mile or two high.

Trenton couldn’t see the giant in too much detail, but based on the way it was moving, it looked injured. It was practically dragging itself forward, its shoulders hunched forward, its eyes half lidded. It was behavior unlike anything he’d ever heard of giants. They were supposed to be large, lumbering terrors, but this one looked like a wounded animal crawling to get away. The giant wasn’t being controlled. It was running for its life–running from something in the mountains. Although what exactly could’ve been driving the giants out of the mountains eluded Trenton, it did help him solidify the horrific dangers of the mountains in his mind.

The giant dragged itself along, passing just in front of the spire now. The sand around them was deafening the noise and vibrations. Kiva bristled on his back, but didn’t fully wake. The giant didn’t seem interested in their little group, so it was best to leave before the problem even started. If they got into a fight with that thing, it’d kill them for sure, best not to take any chances.

Trenton fashioned makeshift earplugs for Kiva, gently placing them in her ears to make sure the noise wasn’t getting to her. He turned around, his eyes scanning the dark surroundings for the path they’d taken to get there. However, the moment that Trenton turned, something bright shone behind him, the light catching his eye before he could make up his mind.

For a couple seconds, a radiant red light shone from atop the giant’s head, the high perspective from atop the spire giving Trenton a front row seat to the show unfolding before him. In the blink of an eye, the giant’s skin bubbled outwords, light pouring out of its body from every orifice. It didn’t even have the chance to struggle before it exploded,, its innards coating the ground of the desert, the immense explosion imprinting itself onto Trenton’s mind. The wind picked up to a wild fervor around him, the sound of the explosion leaving his ears ringing. He didn’t even want to know what just happened. He was getting them out of there.

Trenton cut through the center of the spire, Kiva still somehow snoozing softly on his back. It seemed that the earplugs mixed with his body acting as a shield blocked most of the sudden stimuli that would’ve woken Kiva. That wasn’t to say that she absolutely should have woken up, but she was terribly exhausted already. It was a miracle that she even managed to stay up this long.

Trenton kept checking over his shoulder as he went, the odd stillness of the night bothering him. After the sudden explosion, the silence was practically boring into his skull. He was being paranoid and rightly so. Towards the middle of the platform, Trenton slowed, noticing something that he hadn’t before. Standing in the middle of the platform was a large shrine looking structure, a slanted roof with opaque barriers between marble pillars guarding whatever was inside. It wasn’t particularly large, but he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. The incessant climbing must have really gotten to him.

Trenton approached one of the barriers, suddenly taking notice of a plaque engraved with some words just above his head. They looked unlike anything he’d ever seen before, sharp lines forming unique symbols. But as Trenton continued looking at the symbols, straining to understand their meaning, they started to look almost familiar. He was sure that he’d never seen anything quite like them before, his studyings never having overlapped with any sort of foreign language, but he almost got the inclination that he knew what it said, the symbols roughly translating into legible print in his mind.

“For his great betrayal, the damned will sit atop the world he loved, forced to watch it grow ever on without the eyes he so cherished in life”

Trenton tried to parse through the words, search for the deeper meaning behind them, but he figured it was probably a waste of time after a little bit of trying. Trenton tentatively reached out his hand to touch one of the barriers, his fingers shaking. When he made contact, it pushed back against him, about the reaction he was expecting. But instead of giving up, Trenton kept pushing, a strange intuition pressing him forward. After another second touching the barrier, Trenton felt an odd burst of energy rising from within him, a power bending to his will–authority. He silently demanded the barrier yield, not really sure what that meant or what he was doing. The barrier, without even a moment's pause, shattered completely, the opaque entrances now completely open all the way around. On one hand, he was surprised, unaware that he had the capabilities to break barriers, but on the other, he felt satisfied, almost like he’d done exactly as he knew he would.

Lights blared to life the moment Trenoton stepped beyond the boundaries of the shrine, the plain interior catching Trenton rather off guard. He had expected some semblance of opulence from the marble shrine sitting dead center, in perfect condition, atop a famous landmark. But all that was inside was a little room, the ceiling maybe 10 feet overhead, a small stand with a rune engraved box sitting on it.

Trenton approached the box, the temptation to touch it almost overwhelming. Trenton wasn’t the rash type, always preferring cautious thought before action, yet for some reason, he felt inclined to throw all caution to the wind, to touch the box. Even though he didn’t recognize the runic engravings, even though he had no idea what he was dealing with or what it was, he really just wanted to try opening it.

With Kiva still sleeping peacefully on his back, Trenton poked the top of the box, his index finger pressing softly into the cold metal. Much like the barrier, the moment that Trenton touched the box, it cracked, a line clean down the middle forming. Trenton pulled the two halves of the box apart, gazing into the sealed containment.

Inside was the head of an older looking man, his white hair slightly wavy, the lids of the eyes sunken into the socket. That must have been what the sign was talking about. The man had probably had his eyes gouged out around the time whoever killed him placed his head up there. It was certainly odd to go to so much trouble to confine a severed head, but Trenton did get in pretty easily; so the killer likely didn’t care too much about people entering.

Although, the barrier was still intact when Trenton had gotten there, which struck him as odd. Trenton reasoned that the shrine was probably pretty old, the pristine order of the structure likely due to runes woven into the materials used to build it. But if that was the case, it wouldn’t make sense that the barrier was still intact. If he was able to break through without even trying, then someone else should’ve come along to loot it already. People weren’t visiting the spire too frequently, but they also weren't ignoring it completely. Even if only one person came along in a decade, that’d be more than enough for one person to get into the shrine over however long it had been sitting there.

Again, looking down at the head, the most peculiar sense of familiarity came over Trenton. He had never seen the man before, of that he was certain, but at the same time, he definitely had. It hurt his mind to wrap his head around, the acute sense of clashing familiarity and unfamiliarity twisting together in his mind. It didn’t make sense, and he certainly didn’t have the energy left to sort it out. He would think about it tomorrow. Trenton mindlessly reached out to pick up the head, not really sure of what he was doing, his inputs based on thoughts he wasn’t really having.

“Woah there, lad! Slow your roll! At least take me to dinner first,” the head exclaimed, its form suddenly coming to life. Despite the sudden nature of the head's outburst, Trenton was calm, surprise seeming to elude him. Trenton shushed the head, his eyes darting up to Kiva on his back. She was still sleeping soundly, the slight disturbance not bothering her in the slightest. Given the explosion she just sat through, he probably didn’t have to be so quiet, but better safe than sorry.

When Trenton was sure she was alright, he turned his attention back to the anomaly in front of him, taking in its form more carefully. There was nothing too special about it other than what he mentioned. His hair was tied back into a little knot, his smile was clean and sparkly, his flesh was properly colored. Really he just looked just as healthy as someone that still had their head attached to their body.

“You’re still alive. You’re not dead,” Trenton noted, looking at the head in awe.

“A very correct and astute observation,” the head replied with a big smile across its face. Its accent seemed to be a mix of a southern verulian and aviarian, a sound Trenton hadn't heard before. “It’s been a while since I saw another person…well, ‘saw’ but that’s besides the point. What do you say you get me out of here? A little steel box in the middle of nowhere just doesn’t quite hit the spot after the second millenia.”

Trenton picked up the head, scanning it over from every angle. Most of the head was not notable, Trenton having seen what it had to offer before. The bottom of his neck, however, was a different story. Much like Trenton had assumed, it was a mesh of raw red flesh, the skin and muscles looking tender. Trenton could even see some exposed veins bulging with fresh blood, their route having been rewired back up into the head. It didn’t really make sense that he still had blood flowing through his head without a core, but Trenton didn’t question it. He was more so curious about how the head was even alive and talking in the first place to worry about how its blood was flowing.

“I’ve never known anyone able to live without their head. Are you human?” Trenton asked, running different races and subraces through his mind.

“And I’ve never known anyone able to live without their core. Aren't we both the strangest anomalies? The only reason that I’m not dead is that I can’t be killed, at least not by decapitating me. I’ll not bore you with the technical details. I’d much rather get out of here.”

“How did you know about that?” Trenton asked, looking down at the smiling head.

“It’s hard to see without my eyes, but I had a bit of presence that seeped out of the box after a couple centuries. I’ve been keeping an eye on the world best I can.”

“You can do that?”

“Well…yes and no. Presence is complicated. Have someone else explain it to you.”

“Alright, could you at least give me a name? Something to call you by?”

The head paused, thinking about it for a moment, “Kesik is the name. Sorry, I’ve been in here so-”

“You're Kesik!?” Trenton half shouted, half whispered.

Kesik didn’t respond immediately, instead furrowing his brow and pursing his lips, “...what exactly do you mean by that? Have you heard that name before?”

“Yes, back at Rema’s. She said a man named Kesik with scared, sunken eyelids visited her. You don’t have the scars, but you are missing the eyes,” Trenton said, pausing to think about it deeper. If this was Kesik, then how did he end up here so quickly? In fact, didn’t the head just say he was locked up for two Millenia? “Was that really you?”

Kesik cursed, his brows furrowing even further, “...okay, you got me. My name’s not Kesik. Although, whoever this Rema girl met claiming to be Kesik was lying as well. It’s a really old joke, not one I figure people even remember anymore. Long story short, it’s all about a fool named Kesik who lived a long time ago. He was notoriously dim witted, practically incapable of learning. Eventually, people started using his name themselves to mock him, entire shows and routines sprouting up based on his behaviors. I really thought it’d work, but it seems someone else from my era is still roaming around. You said they had clawed out eyes?” The head asked, cocking itself to the side as best it could, “...I wonder. Well, in any case, I don’t want to tell you my name. It brings back memories. So I’ll come up with a placeholder. How about…Zzzzzzar…Zardra!”

“Eh, not your style.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let me try again. Sargo?”

“Definitely not Sargo.”

“Okay…R, r is always a good letter. Let’s see here. Rrrrrrrraligoth. Yeah, Raligoth sounds nice.”

“Raligoth? Like the god?”

“Like the what?”

“Raligoth–god of space. Have you-have you never heard of the gods?”

“...no?”

“How!?”

“Don’t ask me! Clearly I don’t know! In any case, I like the name. I’m not changing it.”

“It’s going to be really hard to call you the name of a god without drawing attention.”

“I’m a talking decapitated head. I think that should be your first concern.”

“Fair enough.”

Trenton was bursting with questions, his mind racing with curiosity. But he was tired, and he’d already been gone for long enough. He decided to stow away his questions for later, making a mental note to come back to them at some point. For now, he needed to get back to the waiting party. Hopefully they didn’t encounter any problems while they were gone. After a little bit of fiddling, Trenton strapped the head to his hip, using some spare cloth and rope to fashion a holder.

“Will this work?” Trenton asked, jostling the head to make sure it would stay put.

“Like a charm! Let’s go!” The head said, nigh euphoric.