Page 22 of Fated to the Alien Chieftain

“It’s beautiful,” I say, unable to take my eyes from the sight.

I lose track of time as we both stand watching, totally mesmerized. The only sound is Cupcake's occasional barks as her silhouette circles the spiraling tower. It’s only when the moon edges away, breaking the halo effect, allowing more light to illuminate the area do we regain our senses. We continue onward, making the short climb up the stone steps of the temple. I take a deep breath before crossing the threshold through an arched doorway.

Krogoth stops to peer down at me, his face all smiles. “You sure this is what you want?”

Suddenly I feel a pang of worry for him, remembering how much this ritual means to him. “I’ll always love you, Krogoth, no matter what happens,” I say, as I give him a quick hug. “Let’s do it,” I say, stepping through the doorway.

I’m immediately struck by the sheer size of the interior. It’s so open and spacious. In stark contrast to the underground temple of Sunaisor’s intense darkness, Lanaisor is dazzling, with its open archways and enormous windows. Wooden benches and tables dot the vast chamber, but the place must have been abandoned for years, centuries even. The furniture is half rotted to pieces and covered in thick layers of dust with moss and dried leaves strewn about. It’s like discovering an abandoned, medieval castle.

Krogoth tuts as he glances around. “The old ones tell tales how during the springtime the females from every clan would gather here to celebrate and pray for their children and fertility.” He runs his massive hand over a nude statue of a female Klendathian, before examining the chump of dust on his fingers. “Now look at it,” he shakes his head ruefully.

I can almost imagine the women chatting over the tables, enjoying meals, while others quietly offer prayers before their favored Gods. It would’ve been an impressive community event for sure. The temple is capable of seating many thousands.

The sound of a razorbill crowing loudly snaps me back to reality, giving me a fright that causes me to clutch onto Krogoth as the black and white animal flees out of a nearby window. Our feet echo off the stone floor as we continue walking, but to where exactly I do not know, trusting Krogoth knows more than I do.

A strange long shadow cast onto the ground gives me pause.Is that a person?I slowly tilt my head, trying to make sense of it until at a certain angle the shadow reveals itself to be an imageof two Klendathians embraced in each other’s arms. “Amazing.” I follow the source of the light to see it’s coming from one of the delicately carved stone windows, creating a stunningly detailed projection.

“There’s more,” Krogoth says, laughing and pointing towards another one.

I glance towards the shadow image, tilting my head again, trying to make out exactly what it is. Until I notice it’s a Klendathian, fucking another one who’s bent over. “I wasn’t expecting that,” I say, laughing, feeling a little heat in my cheeks.The female Klendathians definitely weren’t shy.

Up ahead, two massive statues dominate the central space. They rest directly under the spiraling tower portion of the temple, which allows them the extra height. As we get closer, I recognize their faces and clothes, marking them as Machsin and Dagdorix. But instead of a triumphant pose, they instead hold hands together, staring longingly into each other’s eyes. At their feet lies a mostly rotten wooden offering bowl.

Krogoth stands with his hand, rubbing his chin, studying the massive statutes.I hope he has a plan?

“So, what now, big guy?”

Chapter 8

Krogoth

Trigger

If only I hada plan.

“It must work in a similar fashion to the statues in Sunaisor, some type of trigger,” I suggest, glancing around for any potential clues. I should’ve asked Harkus more about the Mortakin-Tok and how to evoke the judgement of the Gods. There’re so few of the old ones left that have successfully completed the ceremony, leaving me with precious little knowledge.

The mostly rotten wooden offering bowl sits between the two figures of Machsin and Dagdorix. Inside, the bowl contains the decomposed remains of what looks like flowers, and petrified food.Maybe that’s the key?I rummage through my bag and take out some food, relieved I didn’t give Cupcake everything we had.

Pebbles stands next to me, her pretty eyes glued to the offering bowl. “Good idea,” she echoes, helping to hold the satchel as I scour through it.

Slowly, I lower the food into the bowl with the utmost caution, like I’m handling a volatile plasma bomb. As I carefully lift my hands away, we both wait with bated breath.

But nothing happens.

After a prolonged moment, Pebbles glances around the area.

“Anything different?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“What are we missing?” I sigh,

Pebbles looks thoughtful, rubbing on her Elerium necklace as she often does. “What about praying? It worked in Sunaisor.”

I shake my head. “Harkus never mentioned praying.”

Pebbles’ face brightens. “Oh, you asked Harkus? What did he say, exactly?” she asks excitedly.

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