Helping Hand :Kratos Tributes:: Arcane Arts

The day had been long and drawn-out, especially with how on-edge Kratos had been feeling since the morning. That dream really messed with him, no matter how much he denied that fact. At least the fact that Bakara had experienced something eerily similar was a comfort, he wasn’t entirely alone. Was it all even real? Had he really spoken to the god of the night, Nokt herself? And that entity, no matter how many times he repeated Nokt’s explanation to himself it became no clearer as to what it was and why it was targeting him, and especially not Bakara. She seemed so untroubled, it was hard to know what reasons she’d have for being targeted without asking her. Although it wasn’t much of Kratos’ business, so he’d probably opt not to do that.

 

Kratos was currently sitting on the nearby riverbank, water splashing gently onto his front as he faced the flowing river. The sun had just begun to set, meaning Bakara should be by any time now so that they could make their journey to the ruins she’d been so excited about. Not that Kratos was too interested, studying the past wasn’t of interest to him. He was just going because…well, he wasn’t too sure why. He just felt a compulsion to go, like something was pulling him there.

Kratos was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of wingbeats approaching quickly. He turned around just in time to see Bakara landing nearby, fluffing up her feathers as she did so.

 

“Greetings.” Kratos said, standing up and facing the gryph.

 

“Hello! Ready to head out?” Bakara was practically bouncing with excitement, something that would’ve normally irritated Kratos, but for once he didn’t mind it.

 

“Sure. Did you bring the book?” Kratos asked.

 

Bakara carefully handed a book over to Kratos, one bound with leather, pages yellowed and faded. It was barely readable, but just enough so that the two could figure out where to go. Everything else made no sense anyway, mostly because it was in an unknown language. Kratos had no idea why a library would keep such a book, but then again a lot of things about civilization made no sense to him.

 

“Good. Then let’s be off. Follow me, it may be best to keep on the ground unless we absolutely need to find a landmark.” Kratos opened the book to the page that had its corner folded in, done by Bakara to mark the pages the map was on. Sure enough, it was in a foreign language, but the landmarks made sense to Kratos. He couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his cave wasn’t even on this map either, despite the presence of surrounding landmarks.

 

The pair set out on their journey, trudging through tall grasses and forests, across a rather large field, and at some point tiptoeing along a precarious set of logs right above a waterfall. Despite the book’s guidance, they had somehow gotten lost along the way.

 

“I told you, we had to cross the field in the direction of the moon! We went to the right of where the moon is in the sky, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Bakara poked at Kratos, who was beginning to grow tired of her complaining.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. This map shows that the ruins are in the direction of the moon after we cross the waterfall, not in the field. If we’d gone that way in the field we’d have ended up at the edge of the city.” Kratos let out an exasperated sigh. He was only somewhat sure he knew where he was going in all honesty, but he wasn’t about to tell Bakara that.

 

“Let’s just keep going this way, in the direction of the moon, and see where we end up. It shouldn’t be too far now.” Kratos gestured to the sky dramatically as he spoke.

Bakara rolled her eyes, but said nothing. The two continued their trek, Kratos growing more tired by the minute, and Bakara finally keeping her complaints to herself. Eventually the pair reached a circle of trees and bushes, so tall it was impossible to see over the tops from the ground.

 

“This has to be it, the map says so!” Kratos exclaimed, running up to the nearest wall of foliage.

 

“Yeah, but how do we get in?” Bakara questioned.

Kratos inspected the nearest bushes for an entrance, but found none. He attempted to push through the branches, but was promptly whacked in the face as one bounced back at him. He tried climbing the outside, but fell back to the ground after getting a few feet up. Frustrated, he huffed out a sigh. There had to be a way in. Somehow. They’d come so far, they couldn’t give up now!

Suddenly, after watching his failures in silence, Bakara spoke.

 

“How about this; I fly you up over the bushes, toss you in, and head up to the treetops and dive in from there! Even if I can’t get in, you’ll be able to check them out and tell me what’s inside!” Bakara suggested.

Kratos thought it over for a moment, weighing the pros and cons, before giving in and accepting.

 

“Alright, how do you want to do this, I climb onto your back? You sure you’ll be able to support me?” Kratos asked.

Bakara chuckled but said nothing, simply took to the air, hovered over Kratos, hooked her talons underneath his belly, lifted the flailing rhakos up, and began lifting him higher.

 

“Woah, take it easy! Don’t swing me so much, you’ll drop me!” Kratos shouted, still swinging his extremities, trying to grasp at nothing. Suddenly, Bakara swung him back, then forwards, then back, then on the forward swing, released her grasp, sending Kratos flying over the top of the hedges, narrowly avoiding getting his horns caught on a tree, and hearing his indignant sound as he hit the ground.

 

“So, what do you see?” Bakara asked after a beat of silence.

Kratos looked around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

 

Once inside, the inner circle was a large clearing, illuminated by bioluminescent plants all around the area. There was a series of stone slabs with runic carvings scattered throughout the clearing, and in the center was a huge stone structure, one that seemed almost like a temple. Kratos simply stared in awe at what was before him.

 

“Did the fall kill you or something? What’s in there?” Bakara was growing impatient.

 

“Uhh, there’s like a collection of big stone pieces with some kind of runemarks on it all around the place, and a lot of bioluminescent plants and mushrooms all over. Oh, and a big temple-looking thing at the center.” Kratos explained, still a little stunned.

 

“Really? Damn, I’ll try to find a way inside. Just hang out until then!” Kratos heard Bakara ascend higher towards the treetops, but decided not to obey her orders to stay put. Clutching the book in his wing claws, Kratos investigated the nearest stone slab. The mark on its surface seemed like it had been burned in, but had a faint red glow to it. Opening the book again, Kratos was able to match the symbol with one on the map. Turning to another page, he found an entire chart of symbols, ones he assumed were on these stones surrounding the area. Of course the chart didn’t tell him what each one meant, since it was in such an unfamiliar language, but he could at least play a matching game well enough. He went around, checking each symbol with the ones on the chart, finding out they did indeed match.

Finally, when there was only one symbol left, Kratos approached the temple. Inside was dark, but there didn’t seem to be any doors or blockades prohibiting entry. Cautiously, Kratos crept inside, revealing a staircase descending below the surface of the earth. He was apprehensive at first, but then that strange tug in his heart began to make itself known again, forcing him to proceed.

 

Kratos, having forgotten about Bakara for the time being, eventually reached a flat surface, stepping onto it and flinching. It was warm, and felt as if it were pulsing, like it was…alive with a strange presence. Kratos, unable to see in the darkness engulfing the underground portion of the temple, continued no further. Well, until a veiny path of strange magic began coursing through the ground, illuminating his path. He proceeded, too entranced to care about what could happen to him.

The path led further into the temple, but not any further underground. Soon enough though, the pathway widened into a large room, one with each of the book’s symbols carved into the walls in a specific order. At the center was a stone pedestal, one that was cracked along its surface and coated in a thin layer of ash. The room was rather warm, probably from the literal magic coursing through the walls.

 

Kratos, now able to see moderately well, flipped through the book’s pages again, trying to find anything he could understand. As he skimmed the pages, a small piece of notepaper fell out of the book’s hollow spine. Kratos picked it up, unfolded it, and was astounded to find a language he understood. It was the common language of today, so that meant that someone had written this recently. Reading into the piece of paper, it was revealed to be a translation of a ritual the book held within its pages. Kratos wasn’t sure what it could be for, but he was tempted to find out. How bad could it be, anyway? Nothing could be as bad as that dream he’d had…

He shuddered at the memory of the bodies scattered across the dreamlike field, the monster that had taken Bakara’s form. Perhaps this ritual was related to his dream somehow.

Kratos cracked down on understanding the meaning behind each symbol, all the while following the instructions needed to set up the ritual for performing.

Once he was done, he had managed to arrange the ashes into the final symbol in the book, the one missing from the walls around him, and began to recite the words written on the notepaper.

 

Once he was done, he sat in silence for a few moments, waiting with bated breath to see what might happen. Nothing. A few more moments passed. Nothing. One more moment. A rustle.

Kratos perked up his head, looking around for the source of the sound. No luck. He closed his eyes again, waiting.

 

Suddenly, in a split second, a flash of red light made Kratos jump. The symbol in the center of the pedestal had begun to glow, causing the surrounding ones to follow quickly. Red wispy magic began to seep from the symbols, while the ground started to pulse with an angry red eminence.

 

Before Kratos could react, a smoky stream of magic lashed out and latched itself onto his chest, right over his heart. Kratos cried out, pain wracking his body violently. He collapsed, writhing in agony as more wisps took hold of his body. His veins felt as if they were on fire, the magic beginning to course through his blood and infecting his heart. He began to grow unfamiliar with the voice coming from his throat as he called out for someone, anyone to help him. Then, it all went black. His vision faded, and he passed out.

When Kratos awoke, he felt numb. His head throbbed with pain, and he was only just barely able to make out what was happening. He was being dragged into the entrance of his cavern, by whom he was unsure. Until a voice echoed through his head.

 

“Kratos! Kratos, are you alright? I told you to stay where you were until I found a way in! What happened?” Bakara’s voice was frantic and afraid, but also firm and upset. Rightfully so, Kratos had disobeyed her request and gotten himself hurt.

He attempted to stand up, but quickly toppled over. Bakara outstretched her wing for support so that Kratos wouldn’t touch the ground.

 

“Temple…some sort of magic…I…” Kratos’ voice startled even himself. It was raspy and hoarse, but sounded as if it weren’t his own. As if someone else’s was mixed in there somewhere. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he began to cry.

 

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m not mad at you. Not entirely. Yes, it was a stupid thing to do, but you’re ok, right?” Bakara’s voice grew quiet, trying to comfort the trembling rhakos as he leaned on her for support.

 

“I don’t know.” Kratos flinched at his own voice, if he could even call it that anymore. It sounded so foreign.

 

Bakara was silent, not knowing what to say. She simply lowered Kratos’ shaking frame to the ground, laid him down, and sat across from him. Kratos curled in on himself, wincing at the pain in his joints, how his feathers felt like they were too heavy, how he felt too fragile, like he would break with a single breath. Everything about him felt…wrong.

 

“What happened in there?” Bakara asked calmly.

Kratos managed to stop his sobs long enough to explain at least part of what had happened, the part he was awake for. Bakara was stunned into silence once more. Kratos felt awful for disobeying her, but at the same time he didn’t know what he’d do if it had been her in his place. He couldn’t allow her–his friend–to be hurt like that. He couldn’t allow anyone to be hurt like that.

 

“We need to seal the temple.” He choked out. Bakara looked at him, puzzled for a moment, before she understood what he meant.

 

“Kratos, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She responded.

 

“Why the hell not? Someone else could be like us, wanting to explore some local ruins and end up getting hurt, or maybe worse, dead. We need to head back there and–” Kratos was cut off by Bakara gently lashing him with her tail.

 

“You didn’t see the aftermath, Kratos. I saw it as soon as I found a way in. Whatever was down there, whatever you called forth… it’s too dangerous, Kratos. That’s all I’ll say.” Bakara lowered her head to nudge her beak at an angry red gash under her right wing. It oozed gently with blood, not enough to be critical, but enough to stain the surrounding feathers.

 

Kratos sighed, too numb to comprehend what had truly just happened. All he wanted to do right now was settle down and pretend he was dead. He’d probably be better off. Because of him, his friend had gotten hurt. Because of him, who knows what else might happen. He could still feel it, that magic, coursing through him. It was a dull burning sensation at this point, but still present. He was now infected, and he had no idea what it was going to do to him, or how long he had left.

 

“Hey, this is not your fault, ok? It was going to happen regardless, whether we found it or someone else did. If anything it’s my fault, I was the one who suggested we take the trip out there in the first place.” Bakara seemed to sense his sorrow, immediately trying to reassure Kratos.

Kratos simply shook his head, but had no energy left to argue. Instead, he laid his head down on the cold stone floor, soothing the heat in his body. He felt Bakara shift nearby.

 

“You’ll stay, right? Please?” Kratos asked with the last of his waking strength. He felt his heart sink when he got no response, but was relieved when he felt Bakara seat herself next to him on the floor of the cavern.

 

“For as long as you need.” Her soothing voice was enough reassurance to lull Kratos into a dreamless sleep.

 

Kratos

2655 words-52

Extra stryx-3

Tribute-4

Flockmate-4

Personal-3

Total= 66 AP

 

Bakara

1867 words-36 AP

Extra stryx-3

Flockmate-3

Total= 42 AP