WRITING Shared setting stories - Unnamed fantasy mecha concept

Spammy

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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Hello! Some scenes of fantasy mecha-ish stories forced their way into my head recently, so I'll be posting the short story bits here whenever I finish one. I don't have a name for this series or setting yet, just concepts rattling around in my head. Don't read into things being connected yet. It's just things in my head that I want to work out into a story.

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Sacrifice

Oren was alone in the dark temple. Not trusting the night on its own, the priests had drawn heavy curtains over every window. No light from the city outside would reach into the chamber. No sounds of the city's night life would push through the stone walls. Whether the priests had been deliberate in how loudly they had let the door lock or if the massive entrance simply could not be subtly secured hardly mattered. Oren knew he was alone inside the temple this night and that no one would find him until morning.

Or if alone was not the right word, he knew that he was the only human inside these walls.

It was not his first time inside the city's great temple, and he knew that around him was polished stonework. Small lamps had been set out to guide his path and from their weak light he could see the blue and green inlays set into the floor. At his side, columns with the most delicate blush of color rose into the darkness. He could not see them, but he knew how the stained glass windows would fill the temple halls with a rainbow. He had been coming here since he was a child, after all, to make the required sacrifices and hear the words of the priests, to honor their city's guardian.

But now...

Oren's bare feet barely made a sound as he walked, following the trail of lights deeper into the temple, into a chamber that few outside the priestly class ever saw.
While the temple had been left dark, this room had been fully lit.
In the center, seated atop a black stone dais that had been polished to a mirror sheen, was their guardian: Alabaster Edge.

The Gigantes.

Oren stared slack-jawed. No one saw a Gigantes like this.

All his life he had only seen the Gigantes in its glittering white white armor with its blue and gold accents. Seeing it tower over the people, tower over some buildings even... No one could deny the divine awe the sight inspired. And when they clashed, when Sun's Scepter the greatest of the Gigantes had them show their might in contests that made the earth shake with the impacts that could rend castle walls asunder and the crash of metal threatened to deafen the audience... How could one not be inspired?

But now that armor was set aside on a massive stand. Alabaster Edge was left stripped. Vulnerable, at least for a Gigantes.

Monstrous?

While awe filled his soul a more earthly vision filled his mind: A skinned animal prepared for butchering.

Not fully, nothing like tendons or veins were visible but... The dark bundles of blue and gray certainly looked like bare muscle, especially in how they anchored to the ashen... bones? A god's flesh and bones? In general shape the Gigantes were human-like, most possessed two arms and two legs and stood upright. Had he been looking at a mortal human, he might have said that he was looking at a barrel chest. But no barrel had ever been made so large. That chest seemed tightly-knit with layered bones connected by stout muscle fibers, leading up to the skull-like visage. There were no lids over the blank, almost white orbs of the eyes. No lips over the metallic teeth locked together. Alabaster Edge sat cross legged, and though its armor was removed one hand gripped the handle of its sword, holding it vertical on the black dais.

"I..." Oren stopped at how quiet his voice had come out, below even a whisper.

"I am you next luz," He said, now finding a bit more volume. It still was not a loud or bold declaration. It was an admission of what he was: A sacrifice. Named for the bone that they said contained the mortal's soul, giving its name now to the one who gave their soul to the Gigantes's body and mind.

That reminder shook him out of his reverie. There, just as the priests had said, were two goblets and an hourglass. Drink them both, wait out the sands... and all they said was he would know what to do.

Despite the flames lighting the chamber, Oren suddenly felt cold. In preparation his head had been shaved, and the garments he had been given were almost too simple to be ceremonial. A white vest and simple pants, that had mostly left what the priests had cryptically called anchor points now embedded in his skin exposed. Mercifully they had given him a sedative draught before the surgery to bind these metal discs with a slight divot to his body. Somehow they did not hurt or itch, but now each one felt like a piece of ice against his skin.

His bare feet padded softly across the chamber, making an approach he would only experience once in his life. They were alone in the temple, and the life that he knew was ending tonight, so a voice in his mind asked why not?

"Will you speak to me?" He asked as he stood next to Alabaster Edge's leg. The calf- or what could be called the calf on a mortal- alone was taller than him. For the only time in his life he reached out and rested a hand on their city's god. The muscle was not quite as warm as a body, and felt dense with only the faintest amount of give. The bones reminded him of metal or finely grained stone.

Still, he had come here with a task. He did approach the goblets, but then… stopped.

"I shouldn't be here," this time his voice was closer to a whisper again. "My parents are traders, not priests or lords. But we- we couldn't tell them no when they came.

"They say the luz forgets their life when they become part of the Gigantes… They forget their family and their loves. Why?" He turned his gaze up towards those unseeing, unblinking eyes again.

Alabaster Edge did not respond.

The tears beginning to fill Oren's vision did not stop him from closing his hands around the first goblet. "My family will suffer for it if I don't. They promised to care for them forever if I did… but I won't know that will I?"

He looked up again. "Will I even recognize them?"

Alabaster Edge did not respond.

Oren waited and waited for any words, but their guardian did not bring him any comfort. "Just do it quickly…" he whispered to himself.

He brought the goblet up to his lips and breathed in… Then began coughing as the spices wafting off liquid assaulted his nose. Alcohol and spices and what else? He shook his head to force the questions out and quickly downed whatever was in there in one gulp. The first drink was light and free-flowing, surely must have been some kind of spirit. The second goblet contained something that was much more viscous, something that clung to his tongue and his throat as he forced it down. Something that burned with more spices that still weren't enough to cover the harsh, bitter taste.

The first goblet hit the dais. Then the second. Then the end of the hourglass landed with a solid clunk against the stone. And as his hands let the device go Oren was aware that his arms were trembling. He was committed now. He looked up to the Gigantes, hoping for reassurance, for anything.

Alabaster Edge did not respond.

Oren turned and sat down on the stone dais, staring at the ground as the finality sunk into his consciousness. He glanced at the sands, but barely any had fallen. The longer he sat in the darkness, the more that all he could think of was his family.

"They were already mourning when I left… like I was seeing my own funeral. I've never seen my parents cry so much." Well if they were going to be joined then the Gigantes could hear everything that was weighing on his heart! "My brother was trying to be brave… He is such a good singer… He already performs for nobles… led the hymns in this temple…

"If I didn't do this… They wanted to test my older sister after me. Just to be sure, even though they wanted me to serve. But I couldn't, couldn't let them… She has the better head for business, she should take our family company. I just… My parents don't know she has a suitor, they're both still waiting to… I won't see her wedding will I? Even if I- we- I won't… I won't…"

He won't hear his parents bickering lovingly over spices.
He won't tell his brother about the caravan's adventures.
He won't watch his sister start a family.
He won't hear the songs of nomads in the desert.
He won't brush flies off a pack animal.
He won't feel the juice of a fruit roll down his chin.
So many things now he won't do ever again.

All he does is curl into himself and cry. Each memory wrenches a sob out of his chest. Each dream makes his breath hitch in his throat.

The hallowed temple is filled with choked sobs and wet sniffles. Was it the exhaustion of despair? Or was it what he had been told to drink? His mind began to cloud and his eyelids felt heavy. He could only imagine how pathetic he looked, burying his face in his knees, crying next to one so mighty. He imagined it until he almost could see it from the eyes of Alabaster Edge. From so high up, watching this human cry. Until he could see it. And see…

A white desert that glowed beneath a pitch dark sky.
Cities of glittering glass.
Wind that was not wind buffeting his face.
Watching an orb of blue turn beneath him.
Tiny figures falling to their faces desperately.
So much to eat.
Never enough.
So fearfully given.
So greedily taken.
His teeth sinking into cows.
Horses.
Beasts that brayed and trumpeted.
Fish that had never seen the sun's light.
These two-legged beings.
Those who served others like him.
The feeling of a weapon in his hand.
Screams surrounding him.
The sensation of taking a head from its shoulders.
Holding his triumph aloft.
The world tree rising into the sky.
Watching the roots burn.
It snapped and fell.
Sinking into mud.
Forced to kneel.
His soul ripped.
Unable to move.
Unable to think.
Buried.
Found only through dreams.
Made dependent.


How long did he wait in silence? How long did he wait huddled in the darkness? Slowly he rose to his feet and saw the hourglass sands emptied from the upper chamber. He stared into his own eyes, and he stared into his own eyes. He reached out with one hand, and the ribs and muscles that appeared knit impenetrably tight split and slid aside and he was made whole once again.

And when the dawn broke above the horizon and the priests broke the wax seals upon the temple doors they found Alabaster Edge clad in armor once and fell into worshiping the return of their guardian.

Oren's name was remembered in an empty tomb outside the city and on the wall in the temple honoring the sacrifices made.
 
Where the "God" Passed

The two riders approached the great stone slab in respectful silence. Not for what towered over them and their horses, carved with a relief of one of the Gigantes smiting their lessers. These riders respected might but saw no divinity where their neighbors did. They rode in silent respect for the gouged and ruined farms they had passed by before and the ruined buildings that they passed by now.

"Don't have any restraint, do they Rika?" the first rider. As he scanned the scene he brushed a hand over his short beard. How better for a self-proclaimed god to show their might than to plant their own monument where they passed.

"The idols never do, Simeon," Rika answered. Her horse snorted nervously and she leaned forward to pat its neck. But her expression as she looked up at the stone was almost venomously sour.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. Not the first time I've seen this."

There were some scorch marks on the walls, but not enough to account for all that had happened. Fire was the secondary cause here. Both of these who were called "The Honest" in one land and "The Faithless" in another, had seen this before.

Slowly they rode to the other side of the slab, which carried a colossal inscription spanning its height. At the top the Gigantes spread its arms wide to gesture at the words, and at the bottom human figures knelt and held their hands up in adoration.

"Can you still read their script?" Simeon asked, tenderly.

"Yes. The scribe or the mason must've gotten lazy. But it's all legible." Rika was already squinting up at the top.

Simeon reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. There was concern in his eyes. "Can you do this?"

"It's nothing new, Simeon. I'll be fine." She turned her attention back up to the monument, and began to read.

"All that you see is the will of Torrential Might. I, who... I'm not reading your titles.

"My gaze is on all in my lands. I could see how these here plotted to withhold my rightful tribute and plotted evil against my faithful. See how they have been laid low. I have torn away their roof and destroyed their walls, ruined their fields, carried away their beasts, scattered them to the hills. They now have no name nor sustenance nor comfort. Their souls shall wander the desert of the damned and never know paradise in my heavenly realm. Their children I will care for so that wickedness is replaced by piety. Let all who see this marker I have placed here know that I, Torrential Might... From here on it's just boasting."

"Torrential Might? I thought we were closer to Looming Storm's territory." Simeon leaned up, as if he could read what had been left here.

"They probably did too... Too close to the border and they all try to squeeze you. Or make an example out of you." Rika had bitter experience in her voice as she looked around the silent, ruined buildings.

She dismounted, spat on the monument, and lead her horse to a piece of debris that could still serve at a hitching post so she could face where the sun would set and silently begin the prayer for the lost souls. There was just the rustle of her clothes over the wind as she carefully performed each gesture. However long they had been left to wander, she could mourn them and guide them to rebirth now. She heard movement behind her, someone approaching, and then Simeon began the accompanying chant.

The ruins were no warmer and no more alive when they finished than when they began. The horses didn't seem to take much notice. But even with the memories of her captivity and escape forcing tears into her eyes, Rika felt more at ease. Her shoulders slowly released and lowered.

Simeon still gave her several minutes before breaking the silence around them. "Monument's still standing... Either Looming Storm doesn't know or doesn't care.

"I'd wager doesn't know yet. But it probably will soon. You are right, this is more of its territory than it was Torrential Might's... We should check with the next village." She sighed and looked first up the road and then back in the direction they came. "And then the Elders will want to know that the trade routes will have to change this year... And be ready when the idols go to war."