Inhuman Chapter 9

An Emperor’s Privilege and the Madness of Peyra’s Solstice

Emperor Nazalath looked over the papers, unconsciously pulling at the hairs of his heavy eyebrow. Making sense of the reports that were filled with diplomatic language and written in cursive script gave him a headache. He sighed, debating whether he was too hasty in hanging his last aide. Filko, his trusted spy, proved the aide’s disloyalty by tying him to the Anarchist Conference. Still, Nazalath missed the dead man’s ability to handle the vast amount of information flowing to the emperor’s office.

The steady sway of his special train rolling along the countryside outside of Makla. Inside the private car, he sat at his golden trim desk, made of the same elaborate wooden panels of teakwood that covered the walls. Nazalath paid no attention to the small scenic farms seen outside of his golden framed windows. While those farms made up the bulk of wheat and rye grown in his empire, his thoughts focused on his next steps with Ikarus Signoria. The last free state outside of his control remained a goal of his since he took the throne away from his brother twenty years before. However, the rugged mountain terrain, combined with a strong civilian army, made a quick invasion difficult. Worse, the wealthy bankers based in the republic’s capital of Iyrus held too much of the empire’s gold and debt. Any threats against the country would dry up the emperor’s finances, along with the ability to keep his provinces in check.

The large man leaned back in the ornate gold chair; his overweight body caused the joints to creak. He pulled off a red silk cap and rubbed the back of his head. Nazalath suddenly pulled his hand away, leaning closer to a mirror in front of him. He tapped the bald patch on the top of his scalp with embarrassment.

Those worthless doctors and their cures that don’t work!

The noble remembered the last treatment. A smelly concoction of a potion composed of horseradish, pigeon stool, beetroot, and opium. He wore the remedy in a turban for months. Still, nothing relieved him of the balding area growing larger each time he looked.

The emperor swore to himself that he’d have the next charlatan who claimed that they can grow hair suffering a painful death in the torture chambers. A soft knock at his door suddenly interrupted his thoughts. A pleasant-looking woman in a bright green dress entered, her long red hair already unpinned and draped across her shoulders.

“Father, you asked me to warn you when we were a few hours from our destination.”

“Yes, that’s right!” He stood up and removed the golden robe he wore over his silk pajamas.

“It’s Patraj, correct?” The man asked as he went to the enormous bed that nearly filled the rest of the room.

“Yes, I’m your eighth daughter.” She replied quietly while removing her dress.

“Ah, yes, my youngest currently. I’ve heard from an advisor that a family has an interest in marrying you. I’m sure you’ll miss our time together.”

The young woman watched as he pulled off his pajamas and sat on the edge of the bed. She tried to hide her disgust as she finished removing her clothing. His fat belly, large ugly face, and long, graying beard made him a revolting sight to look at. Patraj found it far worse that she needed to submit to his sexual desires.

Only a wretched noble bastard would do something like this!

Her father had multiple wives, along with an assortment of sons and daughters. Patraj knew Nazalath cared for no one but himself. He used sex, degradation, and submission as a tool to for his control and self-gratification. If a daughter was not part of his haram, Nazalath used the other members of his extended family as offerings to noble families. She was only a device to keep the nobles in check while offering those families a minor opportunity to weld imagined influence.

The woman slid down to her knees in front of the emperor and he gently lifted her head with his hand. The touch of his hand, along with his cold eyes, made her shiver.

“You seem distracted, my child. Perhaps you are thinking of a young lover.”

She shook her head.

“I only think of my duties to the emperor,” she mechanically stated.

“That’s a good girl. You’re plain and obedient, like your mother. Tell me, is she still in my haram?”

Patrai’s eyes dropped and her lips pressed together.

“No, she died last year,” she controlled her growing fury.

“Oh, that’s right! It’s coming back to me now,” he patted her head. “Yes, a kitchen wench poisoned by the terrible assassin trying to kill me. She received a state funeral for her services to me. Of course, her sacrifice for the empire brings you comfort.”

The man pulled down his silk pants.

“Given your commoner background, it’s a shame that I can’t give you to nobility. But that wealthy merchant who wants you for a wife should provide suitable compensation for me to lose such a valuable member of my haram. I’m sure you’ll be sorry to leave my care.”

He grabbed her head and pressed her face toward his groin.

“Of course you will, so don’t disappoint me.”

Night fell over Frola and the evening train failed to arrive on time. Grym spoke to the station manager after buying tickets. A breakdown meant the train would not arrive until well into the night. While the manager kept giving him the runaround about the time, a few silver coins got Grym better information.

“Maybe I should just wait it out since this empire is falling down around us,” Grym sighed as he told Valary the news.

“I never knew you had a sense of humor,” she replied. “I have no intention of waiting.”

 Valary sat on a crude bench in a corner of the train station. Grym grunted at her remark. The cloud-filled darkness and dim oil lanterns made them nearly invisible to the only other apparent passenger waiting on the coming train.

“Neither do I.” He paused, then decided on something.

“Perhaps you’re ready to begin,” he whispered, leaning closer. “I’ll give you a spell to remember. Don’t practice it yet since there are people in the area. I just want you to memorize it.”

After he told her the spell, Valary’s eyes widened. It was a variation of the spell that Grym used on the monster in the labyrinth.

“I don’t need to touch someone?”

He shook his head.

“But I’ve not given you every detail yet. Just memorize what I’ve told you,” Grym explained. “You’ll learn the other parts when your body is ready.”

She noticed his expression swiftly change. Valary scanned the room, but it remained quiet. A large man wearing a black suit and red vest had a large salesman’s leather bag sitting next to him. The felt hat he wore slid over slightly as he dozed, giving him a comical look. Grym paced back and forth, reminding her of his increased agitation.

Is he worried about giving me the spell? I can see why he doesn’t want me to try it!

However, she watched as Grym paced in the shadows. His behavior concerned her. When he came next to her bench, the inhuman looked up at the clock quietly ticking away on the nearby wall.

“Is there a problem?” She asked quietly.

Grym shook his head, then changed his mind.

“I made a mistake,” he confessed.

“What do you mean?”

 “I forgot it’s Peyra’s Solstice tonight. The cloud cover hides the night sky, so I missed the obvious,” he hissed out in clear pain.

Valary looked up at the sky, suddenly remembered that she had not seen a calendar in many months. However, she knew the solstice meant the moon was at its fullest.

“Is that bad for you?”

He nodded. She noticed his dark eyes showed an uncanny excitement.   

“The madness becomes unbearable,” he whispered. “You and that fat man over there smell delicious.”

Her expression immediately turned to fear, and he grunted out a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gone yet. But I must do something before the train arrives.” Grym scanned the room, finally deciding on action. “Keep quiet and out of sight. I’ll be back soon.”

“What are you doing?” She hissed.

His pale mask looked down at her.

“To feed, of course! Every village has a stray dog.”

The woman felt the intimidating power of his desperation coming through those words. As Grym walked away, Valary suddenly regretted her lack of resolve as thoughts weaved through her mind.

I should have tried harder to stop him.

What if he kills someone to eat them?

What will happen to me?

The woman took a deep breath, feeling foolish and helpless. Then she remembered his words and shuddered.

You and the fat man smell delicious!

Grym stepped into the still night air and immediately picked up a scent. Saliva started to drip from his lips as he hurried across the open ground to the back of a building. The inhuman easily followed the path under the bright moonlight to the edge of the building. The scent grew stronger, and he silently pulled a knife from his belt. Drool from his mouth dripped down on Grym’s hand.

He found his prey on top of a pile of unburned trash. The furry mapache had its back to Grym. Using its human-like fingers, the creature nibbled on something it found in the trash. Grym silently slid his knife back into his belt. In a flash, the inhuman burst around the corner of the building. He caught his prey by the scruff of its neck, immediately lifting the squealing creature high in the air before slamming it into the hard ground. Grym bit into the neck of the stunned animal, his mind recoiling at the stench in his nostrils. However, the creature’s blood spilling into his mouth overrode any human sense of sympathy or pity. Instead, he lifted the still struggling animal up while ripping deeper into its throat. Grym barely felt the death shudders of the mapache dying as he continued to tear through the fur and eat the bloody flesh.

While Grym ate, he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, the yellow light of a lantern temporarily blinded him. Instantly, he attacked the person holding the lamp. His bloody hand slipped as he pulled his knife, but his quickness put the inhuman in front of the person a split second later. An ashen face of a large woman stood frozen in stupefied horror as he struck her body with his fist. The surrounding area lit up briefly, then went black as the lamp glass top shattered a few feet away.

The inhuman had his teeth on the woman’s throat when his senses finally returned. He pulled his face back while pinning the female to the ground. Their labored breathing was the only sound.

“Scream and I’ll kill you!”