A crackling sound followed. The armor covering the head of the rider spit open. Yellow liquids mixed with black spattered to the ground, puckering the sand into tiny wet spheres. The armor pulled down from the body of the rider, pulling with it flesh and sinue long grown into the armor. The shrill screaming was quickly drowned out by thick wet gags as the armor pulled meat and entrails out of the withered skeleton. The yellow-green bones twitched, as if vibrated by the seizures of an unseen puppetteer.

Then, dried skull, spine and ribs shot to the ground. Pocked with tiny bored holes, the bones shattered on impact, exploding into sizzling powder and small shards.

The Chaotrine steed collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. The four hooded figures stepped back further. They watched intently. The two figures emerged from inside the cart and approached the other four.

"How do we decide?" asked the one.

A silence followed. Then, another of the figures removed his hood. The face of a demon emerged, ridged with armored peaks along its cheeks and jaw. Yellow eyes flickered to the one who spoke.

"Melef is martyred. He cannot decide for us now." The others removed their hoods. All demonic visages. Part animal, part man, part horror. They looked between themselves.

"I believe we have only a few moments to decide. Madak said it shouldn't take long for the creature to prepare itself for the next host."

"Why don't we just destroy it?" asked the one that looked like a golden boar.

"Yes, why is this even an issue? That thing will just perpetuate the horror on Earth."

"Koba, Shiln... what better way to infiltrate and destroy the demons than with their own icon of death. Can't you see the beautiful irony?" said the one with armored ridges. "We have taken on these forms to deceive the enemy. That creature is the ultimate deception."

He paused for a moment then continued, "I will be the first to volunteer."

"Second," said another with eyes set far apart in his face - two pupils each.

"Third," belted out the creature with blonde fur covering its body.

The three stood looking at each other. The hiss of sand against rock was interrupted by some wet clicks from the Chaotrine beast.

The three volunteers moved closer to surround the swollen beast. The armor, fully liquid and roiling on the beast, was preparing to seek out a new host rider. The other three retreated to their own grunting beasts to try and soothe each other.

The shiny liquid armor began to form a dull layer. It slowed its motion. The first to volunteer stepped closer. The other two followed his lead and did the same, hesitantly. Swells and ripples began to form patterns in the dull tar-like surface covering the reclining steed. A wave stretched up in an instant and formed a bulb just where the rider had been seated. The third volunteer shuddered and stepped back.

The second picked up what remained of a bone. He rubbed the brittle fragment between his hands then rubbed it on his face. The first looked over at him with surprise and question. The second looked over at him and shrugged, grey dust clinging to the deep lines in his face. The first smiled.

The third stood where he was.

The other two continued to approach. The bulb on the beast's back throbbed with curling ridges. The second looked at the first and said, "Will we remember who we are?" The first looked up and said, "Madak said the armor is not invasive. Not fully evil. We can hold onto our soul if we are strong enough." They first paused and looked at the second. "Are you?"

 

A dusty gust came out of the West and sprayed the black bulb with sand. It shimmered and groaned. The second stepped back, startled.

"I thought I was..." admitted the second.

The first gave the second a look of concern. "There's no shame in that," and reached out a hand for the pulsing black and amber bulb on the steed's back.

The second and third stepped back several paces. The bulb shot out thin strands of black that drove into the first's hand. He screamed briefly, then twitched twice. Peace washed over his face as his hand dripped red. He blinked hard, then furrowed his brows, as if trying to remember something. He looked around at his companions, who watched with extreme eyes. The first nodded.

"All for balance," he announced and casually mounted the bulb on the beast's back. Black tentacles shot up and over his body, then quickly spread outward, like a netting of ridged tar. The netting swelled to fill the spaces in another second, and the last to disappear was the first's eyes, which held no fear in them.

The black swarmed over his body in increasing thickness and texture. Hidden snaps were heard as bones were broken and reshaped. A stream of white vapor shot out from the base of the mounted figure's spine, and grew blades that extended down to the tail of the beast it rode. The armor took shape quickly - plates upon plates expanded to sharp edges and gothic patterns. The sides of the rider's head reached outward into long pyramids and coils of jeweled eyes popped along the ridges. The rest of the riders' facial features followed - a surreal blend of crustacean and manta-ray face melted into place. The jaws sliced together twice with twittering clicks.

"Its done," came the message to the travellers. They watched as the beast rose up onto its feet and approached them.

"Continue North. I will join you by the next dead moon in the valley."

The others looked at each other with confusion and concern. Only the healer, Madak, and Laastra himself had been able to speak mind to mind. This new voice was sharp and damp. It stunk of bitten flesh and otherness, but the host's personality was familiar and shone through the gaps in the blackened stringiness of the chaotrine voice.

"I am still Melndras. I still see the value of a pure Earth and believe sacrifices must be made to obtain it. I am still your brother within."

The others looked to their brothers again. The third to volunteer stepped foreward and approached the shelled creature. He stopped a few feet in front of the creature and raised his hands in the shape of 'C's over his head.

"We are his naga."

The creature raised its armored hands and did the same. A chittering whistle emerged from behind scissoring mandibles. Both of them repeated this as the others approached and faced each other in a circle. All together, they chanted...

"We are his naga."

The wind whipped up some brush and twigs. The dust devils circled around the chanting group and threw some sand their way - just enough to get their attention, but not enough to disrupt their communion.

End Part 9