Kingdom of Rot

It had taken them days to reach their destination, but Izhari and Tomita had finally arrived. Through trials of uneven rock and hour-long descents against jagged ledges, they had reached the fork in the path. Izhari’s resolve never wavered, and without a second’s hesitation, they turned towards her homeland.

Every evening, they trained and focused on meditation. Then Tomita would cook and read. Though he scanned every chapter of both history books, he found nothing about Currtasi. It was as though it had been avoided or erased, or maybe they were simply not worth mentioning. The structure of the tomes themselves did not aid the search.

“No table of contents. No glossary. So inefficient,” Tomita had sighed on the second night.

Still, on he read, hoping for any hint of what might await them. Yet the hint never came. Izhari herself spent each evening reflecting on what could be in store. She could not simply walk into the village or town that beckoned and say hello to old friends. Invisibility was to be her shield, and Tomita would be her avatar.

They rehearsed his talking points and questions. They planned escape strategies. They did everything they could to prepare for the unknown that was just ahead.

Now, the great wall of Currtasi stood before them.

It was unlike any wall that Tomita had seen before. Ancient stonework undulated and pulsed as though it were alive. Millions of stones in different size ranges all pivoted, rolled, shifted, and re-aligned themselves with every second, so that the wall itself pulsed like some sort of stone amoeba. Streaks of neon green energy coursed through the fissures and hums of crackling force warned them not to touch.

They were ready. Tomita helped Izhari into the cart and patted her shoulder in solidarity. Izhari inhaled and drank a vial of ether. She then spoke her incantation and vanished from Tomita’s sight. With that, they set off to find the gate.

After an hour of surveying for any sort of entrance, their path finally opened into a rounded moonbridge opening, and the wall broke to reveal the kingdom of Currtasi.

Tomita could barely contain his gag from the stench that struck them immediately. Izhari also wretched and covered her nose. It was as though an open grave full of festering bodies was awaiting them. No one was visible at first, and that concerned Tomita.

“This stench…” he whispered.

Still, he moved forward and entered the kingdom.

All around them, white monolithic totems pulsed and shifted just like the wall. The grassy ground had been paved over with solid white stone, but it was stained and weathered as though it had long been neglected. The silence around them was eerily foreboding. Tomita resisted the urge to call out for anyone to greet them, and instead continued into the square.

The miasma got worse with every step. Rank and stench became almost unbearable. Festering, stagnant water sat neglected in meticulously carved canals. Grand sculptures of abstract beings and concepts moved in creaking gasps above them as silver cabling held tattered banners and heraldry of long-lost beings.

Then the figure appeared before them.

Tomita almost let out a gasp of shock, but he stopped himself and stayed in character.

It was indeed like Izhari, but more intimidating in an unhealthy manner. It was larger, sickly lean, with claws as long as fingers and a jet black and silver coat in comparison to her copper and white. Oozing sores covered its face and limbs. It moved as though stalking prey while lurching forward on all fours. Its tail twitched side to side as it stood onto its hind legs.

“A visitor. We have not seen a visitor in many ages,” it purred with a guttural growl.

Tomita focused and set his feet.

“I-I-I …I am The Auditor. I have come to audit your kingdom,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone.

The creature’s sunken eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Auditor?... What do you do?” it asked.

“I evaluate your kingdom. Your operations. Your citizens. Your quality. Then I report it to my superior.”

The creature’s eyes widened, and a subtle dart of concern moved through its face.

“Did Master Mathael send you?” it asked in a nervous tone.

The question almost made Tomita smile in victory. It was a stroke of luck he couldn’t imagine. In the split second he had, he decided to lean in.

“Yes. My master is curious and sent me to provide feedback,” Tomita lied.

Now the creature was truly nervous. It was no longer intimidating, but instead it was vulnerable and sickly.

“Is this about the crowns and the memory falls? We are still gathering what knowledge we can to explain why the fissures are occurring. We have tracked a moderate decrease in memory capture, but we do not yet know why. We will continue our efforts,” the creature said with a humiliated bow.

None of this meant anything to Tomita, but he wondered if the memory falls were referring to the falling stars he had seen and touched. It was intriguing to him that this was of concern, even to the great Mathael, and he decided to glean a little more detail.

“Tell me about the crowns. And please, explain it as though I know nothing. I am evaluating your ability to explain these things yourselves,” Tomita said as he instinctually moved his hand to click open a pen before realizing he did not have one.

“The crowns? The crowns are our creation, made for the master all those ages ago. Our kind were once the sacred memory keepers, since our kingdom was at the edge of the Shores of Time, or it was until The Great Breaking. Master Mathael asked our smiths to help craft crowns that could repress sorrow, so that the poor and oppressed could at least know escape during the ages of the Maji Wars. Now, they repress emotion and also capture all thoughts. Every being born in this world since The Great Breaking has been assigned a crown.”

This was a wealth of information, and Tomita begged the stars that Izhari was hearing.

“Your kingdom is by the Shores of Time? It’s nearby?” Tomita asked.

“It was. Now, the Shores of Time are far away. We still venture there when requested, but the last excursion ended in the loss of our entire party, and Master Mathael has not requested we return since.”

Tomita glanced around at the moss-covered walls and neglected towers. The stench was burning his nose now.

“Where is everyone?” Tomita asked.

The creature held out an unsteady, pockmarked arm and pointed towards a great hall with a collapsed roof.

Moments later, Tomita, with Izhari in a cart, had followed the creature into the great hall, and a smell beyond any horror he had ever known immediately struck him. Tomita almost broke character, but he pressed on and felt the vomit threatening from inside. What greeted them was a macabre scene from a nightmare.