The Arkanist

The City of Serpents

“The city was taken.” Said a man hidden by shadow. He wore ragged brown robes with smeared soot laced across the fabric and a wrapped cloth over his head. He was from Dreados, the cloth told Visir that much.

 “They swept over the walls like a wave from the ocean and crashed down on us, taking us prisoner, raping us, or just killing us.” The man went on to say, shifting in his shackles as they rasped along the dreary stone ground, dark with lichen. He spoke in the Hhadiri, but Visir could understand well enough.

 “Our guards held the city for as long as they could until they were overwhelmed and the city was lost as soon as the O'eaneese soldiers crossed our walls. Inside, they plundered the city, taking the gold and gems and extravagant wealth gleaming in the throne room and the vaults under the mountains.

 “They traipsed in, burning, destroying until the city was in a dismal ruin, hardly enough to be called a city.” The man continued, until his speech was engulfed by a monstrous stampede of rushing white streaked with blades of blue roared through the wrought-iron bars of the cell and enveloped everything. The water smacked Visir’s face hard, the churning currents throwing him lifelessly. The water began to recced, crawling back to the sea, the water white as snow as it frothed along the stone floor.

 “There is a reason why they get their name.” Moaned the man, his glinting eyes like diamonds as they look through the bars and down at the rippling white fingers walked across the dark surface. Great rock spires dark with shadow and moss spiked through the churning water like spears sticking through a man’s body, the spike ripe with red.

 “The seacells.” Said the man, tired. “Stories have always wandered into my ears o the dreaded places. Some have said they saw a man down, others say the wave broke so hard that the bars shattered and the water snatched the two prisoners like fish, dragging them out to the jagged caves right there. Nasty places these are; unlike anything else.”

The man stopped talking when there was a loud moan of iron from farther down the main hall, where the grimy rock floor was thrown with dim splashes of flickering red light. Visir could hear the trickle of keys and the high yelp of iron as the gates were swung open. The guards, bearing wrought-iron scones shivering plumes of ruby flame clicked into the seacell and thrust the captives out as if they were nothing more than vile cats seen on the side of the street. The gates were closed with a clap like lightning and the prisoners were dragged away, the sounds of aimless pleas vanishing into the darkness.

“We’ll be up soon.” Said the man as another wave broke before them, hissing like a hundred snakes as it sprayed through the bars. The white fingers of froth hit Visir hard, like an iron fist and showered him in a fine mist of salt. A chill wind burned icily against Visir’s soaked skin as the water receded back from whence it came.

He shivered, his teeth clattering like water running along rocks, “Up for what?”

“They’re taking us before the King of O'ean, the Serpent King to be assessed.”

“Serpent King?” Asked Visir, his brows running with beads of water. “Is the king a serpent?”

The man chuckled. “No, King Elliae is no serpent.”

“The why does he call himself that?” Said Visir, “To make his seem more formidable?”

“In part.” Said the man, “Though there are some who believe like most of his people that he can turn into a serpent. For it is said in legend that the House of Aeneir was the House of the Serpents. It is said that King Elliae’s ancestors could turn into serpents upon their calling. Still, some still believe in the legends and the family history, King Elliae for one. Though as of recent kings none have been known to turn into a serpent.”