Page 65 of Saving the Alien Chieftain

With laborious steps, we navigate down the ancient moss-covered stone steps toward the colossal doorway below. Krogoth’s support is invaluable, lending strength to my unsteady footsteps. Every stone is covered in red and green-colored moss, instilling a fear of slipping or falling.

The stairwell appears much longer and steeper up close. As we near the end, the gigantic doors loom overhead, towering even above Krogoth. Cupcake’s talons and claws clack awkwardly behind me. It’s reassuring that she’s willing to follow me into this imposing space.

I inspect the huge moss-covered stone doors, the dual half warvisors embossed in the centers of the double doors stand out, like a titanic sentinel watching for all eternity. The half with the crescent moon on the frame is clearly more feminine in appearance, with its thinner sleeker features and winged side.So, both males and females were expected to enter this temple. Just like Xandor said.

As we approach the final step, I brace for a struggle to push open the colossal doors. But to my surprise, the sound of whirring gears and scraping stones shakes the ground. Cupcake flutters and barks, adding to the clamor. Nervously, I tighten my grip around Krogoth’s waist; he responds with a reassuring smile.

My pulse quickens, watching the doors slowly open. The realization of what I’m about to do dawns on me like never before. Questions gnaw at the back of my mind.What if the Gods don’t bless my Proving? What if I’ve come all this way, endured so much, only to be rejected? And what does any of this mean for both Krogoth and me, now that the situation has changed?So many questions, and hopefully some answers, lie in these ancient walls.

Musty air escapes as we step into a massive, pitch-black chamber which looms ahead of us. A cold shiver runs down my spine, surprised to see my breath form a mist.When did it get so cold?The blinding darkness ahead makes me wish I still had my wrist console for light.

We take a few steps inside and the stone walls near us illuminate themselves with an eerie teal-colored light. Shocked, I watch the flowing colors dance and flutter, casting strange shadows over the vastness, giving the impression I’m floating amidst a galaxy of blue and green hues.

Cupcake gives a little nervous whine, giving me pause. I look back, and she stands at the opening, her wings and head moving frantically, obviously too frightened to enter. My stomach sinks. If she refuses to enter, I’ll be forced to leave her behind. “Come on, girl,” I say, beckoning towards her.

Cupcake whimpers and moans as she paws and scrapes at the strange colored floor. “It’s ok. See, it’s safe,” I plead, stamping my feet on the ground. Cupcake circles, fluttering her wings. Fear grips my heart, thinking she’s about to fly off, never to be seen again. “Please, Cupcake, don’t leave me!” I cry out, limping quickly toward her.

The chick stops and tilts her head sideways with eyes fixated on me. Reaching her, I stroke her mane. “Don’t leave. There’s nothing to fear.” Gripping her fur, I gently tug, encouraging her to move forward. She digs in her back paws, stubborn as a mule, refusing to go. “Please, Cupcake!” I plead. She licks my face with a large, rough tongue before buffeting me with her massive wings. Heartbroken, I watch her fly back up the stairwell, disappearing into the distance.

Tears well up in my eyes as I fall to my knees. Krogoth consoles me with a massive hand, rubbing my shoulders that shake with sobbing. “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers.

Briefly, tears stream down my cheeks. “I just thought we were in this together, you know?” I say, wiping my eyes. “It felt nice having a friend during this madness.” I take Krogoth’s hand as he helps me to stand. “Maybe it’s better for her this way,” I conclude, feeling my determination resurface.

Krogoth wraps a supportive arm around me. “She has your scent now. I’m sure we’ll see her again one day,” he promises, peering up the stairwell.

I limp forward with Krogoth’s help. As we move through the chamber, more sections of the walls continue to illuminate themselves, like the others. Engraved on stones are depictions of a great battle. Klendathians desperately fight against scaly, many-limbed monsters. The flowing teal-colored lights accentuate each engraved line, lending them a surreal, almost animated quality.

“The Gods vanquishing the Cosmic Destroyer,” Krogoth explains, pointing towards a mural featuring a large spherical creature with multiple grasping limbs encompassing a globe. “This one depicts the Machine God corrupting our technology, threatening all life. That’s why we shun technology.” I survey the scenes, trying to absorb it all.

“How long ago did all this take place?” I ask, casting my eyes around the expanse.

“No one knows for sure. Study of the ancient places is strictly forbidden. But Astraxius said it was probably over fifty thousand years ago. So, the battle with the Machine God would predate even that,” Krogoth replies, glancing between the murals, the shifting colors dancing across his intrigued face.

Did such a war ever take place, or is this merely the origin story of an ancient religion?“The Klendathians still wear warvisors just like in these murals though?” I ask, suddenly curious at the contradiction.

“Yes, they are a gift from the Gods. Hopefully, you’ll receive yours soon,” Krogoth says, smiling down at me.

“But aren’t they a form of technology? Why weren’t they corrupted and forbidden, too?” I inquire, cautiously probing.

Krogoth scratches his head. “That’s a good question… I don’t know.” He chuckles before continuing. “I do know. I can trust in the wisdom of the Gods and my ancestors,” he adds, nodding solemnly.

Yet more questions and few answers.There was obviously some cataclysmic event or war that happened on Klendathor many thousands of years ago. A super weapon gone wrong or an invading machine army, some technological disaster that nearly destroyed them? And the heroes depicted here somehow saved the day, but now they are revered as gods? History morphing into myth and myth evolving into their scripture?

The cold air causes me to shiver as we travel deeper into the temple.I swear it’s getting colder the further we go.“What happens if the Gods don’t give me their blessing?” I’m suddenly fearful of my earlier internal skepticism.I’m seriously worried there are Gods watching me, monitoring my thoughts?I almost laugh at my inner turmoil.If there are no Gods, then it doesn’t matter what I think, but if they exist, they’d know my true feelings anyway, so it doesn’t matter what my thoughts are!

“They won’t reject you. Not after they’ve aided us,” Krogoth says, without any hint of uncertainty.

As I’m approaching the culmination of the Proving, my muscles feel tense and I’m doing all I can to keep my breathing even. The last thing I need is a panic attack! “I wish I had your faith, Krogoth. What about using this armor, or the survival bag Xandor left me? Not to mention you helping me at the last moment? Don’t these actions go against the rules?” I gesture towards my battered golden armor.

Krogoth halts, fixing his gaze upon me. “I don’t know what the future holds, but whatever happens, we’ll be together, whether that be on Klendathor or among the stars.” He smiles reassuringly before continuing our journey. “But they won’t reject you.” He laughs, his voice reverberating off the ancient stone walls.

His words offer some comfort as I inhale a lungful of the chilling air.Yeah, we can live off-world if this goes badly. With Krogoth at my side, we could thrive anywhere.But I know his heart lies with saving his people.Could he ever truly be content leaving his great struggle behind?

Looking backwards, I’m shocked to see only darkness, as the lights from the walls have dimmed after moving a sufficient distance from them, and in the distance before us is still darkness, giving a surreal experience of floating in a narrow strip of light surrounded by a black void.

Finally, the end of the chamber illuminates, sparking both relief and apprehension within me. I exhale, nearing the end, but my uneasiness about the vision I might receive, if any, builds. Towering before us are six ancient statues of Klendathians—some female, some male, some cloaked, others armored. The two central statues stand out, resembling Dagdorix and Machsin, similar to their depictions in Draxru. “Should something be happening? Have they already rejected me?” I ask, desperately searching for any sign… of, well, anything.

Krogoth laughs heartily. “Relax. You only need to pray,” he reassures, squeezing me before withdrawing his arm.

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