Chapter 2: Tragen kindA Chapter by M.R SteinerThe Tragen, an almost medieval society of animal human hybrids. in this chapter March experiences them firsthand. (reviews and help welcome) this one got a little darker than I intendedChapter 2: Tragen Kind
I felt like a lamb led to the altar for sacrifice. The Old
man had abandoned me and the gate behind was sealed shut, leaving me in that
chaotic den of savagery. It was enough to convince me that was his plan all
along. I was the tribute not that dismembered finger. With the path behind me blocked and the way forward thick
with Tragen I just planted my legs and gazed at the red-clods of dirt by my
feet. Each panicked gasp tore at throat with pressure in a cycle of stress that
stabbed my lungs as a knife. Every once in a while I looked to the ruined city in the
distance and witnessed the sheer scope of the path I stood upon. It sloped in
an incline to the edge of the settlement with a sheer drop on either side into
a desolate space below. “What are you?” called a voice. It was high pitched and tiny. I turned around and saw
nothing but the scrap gate manned by Tragen who stood at the top on either
side. “Over here,” it called again, sounding almost like a young
girl. She hung from the side of the path, her fluffy face akin to
a cat with big yellow eyes to match. The second I noticed she climbed over from
the edge and walked right up to me. “I am Ersat…” I said half-worried she would attack. “Really, I’ve never met an Ersat before.” The tiny Tragen
smiled and took a few moments to sniff the air. “You smell funny.” “I’m sorry it must be the sewage.” “No it’s not that, you smell like burning plastic.” Her honesty made me laugh, she seemed almost human. “What are you, if you also don’t mind me asking?” “Silly Ersat, I’m Tragen of course. I live beneath the path
with my mother.” I was overcome with a sense of shock from her explanation.
Tragen actually had children, it surprised me. “Why don’t you live in the city, surely life is better
there?” I noticed her eyes well up with tears the moment I asked. “I’m sorry
did I upset you?” “We’re not allowed in the city anymore.” Before I could ask her another question a whisper called up
from below. It sounded eerily familiar, like the Wolf who held me down. A surge
of adrenaline scared me silent and stiff as I slowly backed away from the Cub as
those calls changed into words. “Child, where are you?” it whispered. “It’s my mother, she’s sick…” The memory of that attack pressed against my skull. I dared
not even utter another words as I finally turned around and ran for dear life
down the path. “Be careful Mrs Ersat,” shouted the child whilst I ran. The towers grew closer and I felt my body tense. Once
distant blocky blurs walked past me clear as day, veiled in cloaks as each went
about their business. Like the vermin back home they flowed as a river without
water. Snouts teeth and mandibles poked out from their hoods, all sniffing and
snapping as each pushed their way through one another. The very ground they stamped on upturned into a dust bowl and provoked me into covering my face. The gap on my display did nothing to hide their ferocity,
especially when one stopped in front of me. It had green pincer-like hands
veiled underneath its robes and stretched an elongated head from the cloak to
show a resemblance of a mantis. It’s pink out of place nose sniffed the air as
one eye twisted to my direction just before the insect hissed and scuttled off.
With or without the hood I was easy to spot. “March…” called out a broken voice inside my head. “Hello?” I spoke out loud. “Crater messing with signal, will try to activate trail,
give tribute to Matriarch, ask for grade 1 pain killers and keep covered until
you reach-” -His voice cut out but I smiled regardless and thanked the
deities he was still there. Another trail appeared on my display for the briefest of moments
through the crowd. Before I took a second step it cut out again as another
Tragen stood in the way. He too tested the air and looked directly at me with the
face of a dog. “Ersat filth, smell of plastic death,” it muttered before walking
off. A piercing bell then rung out in the distance and drew my
attention to a white spire beyond. It stuck out like a sore thumb compared to
the ruins that encompassed the streets, untouched by whatever event ripped up
the foundation. Each repeated clang changed the flow of the crowd towards it;
out of nowhere a herd of pig toothed creatures funnelled from the wrecks to
envelope me in their wake. They grunted as they waddled towards the building, pushing
me along without any notice. My real worry was that they would smell me like
the others but that mass of walking livestock seemingly granted a sense of
anonymity. With their homes up close I found the environment was almost
medieval in fashion; they truly rejected technology on every level and lived as
animals pretending to be human. From every shattered window either side were
hooded merchants shouting their wares, decorated jewellery and pieces of
bizarre angular fruit that they exchanged for silver coins with images of an
elephant pressed to one side. The building they journeyed towards looked like a church of old.
Pillars of brilliant white propped up a cathedral like roof where the single
tower continued to echo outwards. Polished marble of the floor dazzled my
display; I could not help but follow them to great red open door which led
inside. Within I saw decorated silver vines stretching from the stone steeple
roof to the bright tiled floor where a raised platform rested the middle. Set all
around it were dozens of smooth wooden benches pointed in spherical rows where
the Tragen started to sit. I too was forced into the ranks and ended up sat one row
from the centre. Once again I felt a panic the moment I noticed how short the
creature was in front of me. It left me in full view to watch a Tragen veiled
in white robes as he approached the centre platform. “Brother and sisters, Tragen kind and children of the 1st
circle, I hope the Founder has blessed your day.” He said, clearly some sort of
Priest. “Founder’s blessings,” chanted the crowd. My heart sank when he spoke those words, Founder, the name
that wolf mentioned after my eyes were cut out. “My fellow Tragen we should be drowning right now, every one
of us should be crushed from the pressure of the water. Who is responsible for
this?” “Ersat!” they all stood up and called it a dozen times over. “They took the oceans, our ancestor’s homelands are
poisonous mountains and now we drown in their sewage, those pitiful monsters
that ran from death and killed this once green and blue earth. I ask you all
how can a people who don’t eat, sleep or crap produce this much filth?” The pig next to me began to grunt with laughter along with
the crowd before my scent made him cough in disgust. Luckily he seemed unsure
of the offending smells origin. “Brothers and sisters you feel the Founders call, it is why
you are here in this holy place. You have heard the rumours and noticed those
who have disappeared; no doubt you have also listened to the Matriarch’s lies.” His words seemed to split the congregation as each turned to
face one another in outrage whilst I remained focussed on the Priest on the
middle. His body span in a flurry of cloth as the emotion ran through him like
a drug before he stopped the commotion with a mighty roar. “Devolution is what the Matriarch has called it. A disease
that turns good Tragen feral is how they describe it, a blight given to us by
the Founder’s greatest foe. What his name?” “Engineer!” some screamed in horror at the mere mention of
it. “But I know the truth my fellow kindred, Devolution is a
gift.” “You’d see us all dead by Ersat machines with talk like
that!” called the pig as he stood up next to me. “They’ll do Reclamation like
in the old days.” The Priest laughed at his words while the rest threw pieces
of food and trash until he sat back down. “Trust a money lender to reject his saviour. Those words
come from the Matriarch’s agenda for power, not the teachings of the Founder.
Our so-called leader wants us weak so she can rule. Devolution will infuse us
with the aspects of all those creatures lost in nature.” He lifted his arms and
summoned everyone to stand up. “Let me
see who you all really are.” Each removed their robes to reveal what beastly natures they
embodied; it was like an insane zoo as calls of every species erupted. I still
sat covered and focused on the priest who dropped his veil to the floor. His
body was bright red with the face of a wolf, similar in appearance of the one
who attacked me but nowhere near the same size. “Look fellow Tragen, one does not embrace their nature.” His sharpened claw pointed towards me the second he noticed. The room fell silent just as it did beyond the gate. I could
do nothing but watch him approach as the others backed off and pulled the bench
out of his way. Like the rest he tested the air and backed away with an
expression of shock. “Remove your robe.” I kept silent and covered. “I said remove your robe.” The slightest of growls rolled out his mouth. I knew at that
moment I was going to die. “I told you to remove the robe, Ersat!” They pinned me face down to the ground as a group of them
tore open my hood. “Pale skinned filth, how dare you desecrate this sacred
place with your presence.” His foot struck my visor and for a moment my vision
vanished; I held back the urge to scream but not by much. It only provoked him
to strike me in the stomach as the others hoisted me up. “Why are you here pale-skin, did you displease your masters
on the council or are you simply their spy?” “Burn it!” shouted a voice from the crowd. “No, burning is too good for these walking lumps of plastic.
I say we hang it up in the square and see how many pieces we can cut off like
the last ones.” “Please I’m not Ersat I’m-” -He struck me right in the jaw. “Put it somewhere quiet whilst we prepare.” They dragged me away by my feet, face-forward on the ground through
a sea of gnashing teeth. Every single one of them reached out and tore at my
clothes in anger. Somewhere along the way I felt the jar roll out onto the
floor as one picked it up and showed the crowd in triumph. The dusty paths
outside were empty but still made me choke as dust plumed all around. I barely
saw a thing until they took me into the basement of a wrecked concrete building
close by. As my head hit the steps I saw what hung above. A smell of burning
plastic hovered up my nose, it emanated from the severed limbs that dangled
above all pale and bloodless. Some still twitched and moved in response; one
even grabbed the arm of the reptilian Tragen who held my legs. A single dim light shone above the barred cell they cast me
in. The floor was dark but the shadows made it look like an uneven heap. I
began to scream the second I realised what they were. White still moving heads
cushioned the fall. My fingers rammed into one there mouths as the lips pressed
against my skin without a voice. I almost threw up as my boots kicked them away
but the reflection of light in their eyes blinked at me regardless. Somehow
they were still alive. It made my jailers laugh with delight before they left
the room and sealed the door behind them. I waited for what felt like hours with my hands over the
visor, overcome by whatever blood filled scenarios my thoughts could conjure. “I’m sorry if we frightened you,” said a voice underneath
the pile. A hand reached out from below and cleared the others away to
show a partial chest barely connected to a limp yet active head. “You can talk?” I asked. “Alas I am the only one with vocal cords and a working
lung.” It wheezed up and down with each laboured word. “Perhaps they will show
you mercy and do the same?” “What are they going to do to me?” “You saw the hallway before didn’t you; I thought it would
be obvious?” I started to sulk as he made my fate abundantly clear. Some
small part my brain was strong enough to delude my common sense in the face of
such a horrible end. “I don’t want to die…” “Why would you die?” His face posed a curious expression the
moment he uttered the question. “Because I’m not Ersat, I’m human.” “Forgive me it is dark in here, but I’m sure your skin is
white and that there is a visor implanted on your face?” “It is, I was attacked and then this Old Man installed it,
he made me look like this.” “But if you are human why not tell them; surely it would be
an easier fate?” The lock of the door tumbled open to show the scaly faces of
my jailers, blank and soulless as snakes. My cellmate went still and quiet as
the pair drew closer and pulled me out. They bound my wrists together before forcing me to the
surface where the streets had once more swollen with a stationary mob. All of
them moved aside as I was forced along the streets to receive a pelting of mud
and rotten fruit. I looked on either side and saw nothing but hate and sadistic
joy. Truly those savages enjoyed watching me suffer, the cheers only amplified
as we came to a stop before an open square. Dozens of buildings rested as
dominos with hundreds of animals hung from each window. What awaited me in the
centre was a wooden platform with a cage, a noose and a set of shackles suspended
in by a beam above it. I tried to run but they just yanked the rope and snapped me
to the floor where I was dragged up the steps and forced to my knees for the
crowd. Again they cheered and roared as one ripped my hair back to show my
face. It only became quiet as the Priest from the temple approached, once more
dressed in his flowing white robes. “Tragen kind, today we will have some small measure of
justice,” he shouted. His hand gestured to the chains and the guards picked me up.
They nearly yanked my shoulders from the sockets as they clasped the shackles
around my wrists where I hung with barely a toe touching the floor. “Today we shall see how many layers you can peel from an
Ersat before it ceases to the function. First the skin and then the organs,
let’s see if anything still works underneath.” His fist collided with my display inducing a scream as I
felt the implant recoil in my skull. For a moment the crowd fell silent,
shocked that I made such a noise. “Ersat don’t scream,” shouted a voice. The Priest lifted up his veil and looked at me with a
confused expression before delivering another punch. Again I screamed and the
crowd stayed silent. “Ersat don’t feel pain,” cried another. The Priest took another long look at me before the angered
voices turned his attention. “Brothers and sisters do not be fooled; it feigns feeling to
save itself. It is all an Ersat trick.” In an instant they tore off what little rags remained and
left me exposed to the crowd. “You see now the skin is bleached white with that scent of
burning like the rest. I will prove it to you, Ersat don’t bleed.” One of his servants produced a knife and handed it over to
the Priest. It glistened in the light as he held it up for inspection, its
handle a solid gold hilt with a reflective silver blade. “Please don’t, kill me…” I stuttered. “Let us see together just how far this monster can take the
charade.” I pleaded over and over but no one listened, I shouted to
the top of my lungs but none of them stopped. Just as before I was forced to
watch the blade draw closer, this time next to my bare stomach, helpless as the
knife touched my skin and slowly twisted with gentle pressure. “Halt your action Priest!” called a voice seconds before he
cut into my guts. “Your Matriarch commands it.” Everyone fell to the floor as a sound of hooves approached.
I struggled to see what they were until my implant focussed on a group of
horse-like Tragen who stormed through the crowd, their heads lifting and braying
whilst they came to a stop. Each propped up a shiny reflective platform on
their shoulders adorned with jewellery. Upon it was a throne of animal bones
arranged to seat the being I assumed to be the Matriarch. She was covered head
to foot in solid gold, a statuesque frame with the features of an elephant.
Tusks poked out of a gaudy mask covered in sparkling stones. When her arm
extended she revealed a flat foot where fingers should have been. Beside her was the Boar from the gate, in his hands was the
preservation jar taken from me in the church. “You do not dispense the laws Priest, for that is the right
of our Matriarch. That Ersat has initiated the right of tribute and is protected
until our leader says otherwise,” called the Boar. “You grant this abomination rights?” “Ersat or not your Matriarch commands it, cut the pale-skin
down and for Founders sake someone put a robe over it.” The clasps flipped open and I fell to the floor, huddled
against the planks of wood almost foetal with trauma as a fresh cloak was cast
over my body. I waited underneath until a large set of hands scooped me up and
carried me away. I realised it was the Boar and peered over his back to see the
Priest who nearly gutted me, his attention focused on the knife as he inspected
the tiniest drop of crimson blood. Every other Tragen leapt up enraged. Neither the Boar nor
his master seemed to care as the crowd still gave us a wide birth. We followed behind
the precession past the citizenry to the middle of the crater. The Boar often
snorted the air, overcome by the stench I supposedly reeked of. Occasionally
the Matriarch would turn with a shudder of her jewellery to see me still wrapped
up in his arms. The mask completely covered her face, how she saw anything was
a mystery. What awaited us as we came to a stop was a colossal tent
propped up by a network of bones. I was gently put down and left to stagger
towards the entrance where a small group of veiled Tragen awaited. I only saw
their grey fluffy hands which made me jump a mile when one touched my shoulder
and led me inside. They brought me through hide canvas hallways to a circular
room where a tiled pool of clear water steamed a sweet aroma on the surface.
Not since the church had I witnessed such splendour, bleached skulls decorated
each corner as plumes of scented smoke erupted from burning sticks within. “Please wash,” said the servant as she left. At first I thought it was some kind of trick. Only moments
ago I was hanging naked in front of a crowd ready to be skinned alive, now those
same beasts wanted me to clean myself up. It felt like they were preparing for
me for a ritual that demanded a freshly bathed victim. The tempting sight still overcame my judgement and I removed
the robe to see the dark bruises on my chest contrasted to the bleached skin.
Just below my ribs was the tiniest of cuts where the knife had stopped short of
the final assault. The dried blood flaked away as I ran the tip of my finger
against it and relived the memory. The look in his feral eyes as he realised
there was blood on the blade sent a cold shiver up my spine. Ersat or human I
was sure either would get me killed. Those thoughts were washed away the moment I stepped into
the water and completely submerged myself up to the nose. There I played a
dangerous game of balance to keep my visor away from the liquid. It was an
acceptable risk; I never felt anything like it before. There were no chunks of
dead vermin, no putrid green oils, only a sublime warming comfort that washed
the filth away and gave me my fill to drink. When more of those servants entered the room I stupidly dove
right under out of reaction and expected my vision to burn out or electrocute
me. However it kept working regardless as I waited with lung full of air until
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I erupted from the bath and wiped the glass
of my display before noticing one of them had left a set of grey garments and
robes nearby. Both felt smooth to the touch and shimmered in the light as I
climbed out to put them on, another level comfort I had never experienced. “Where are my shoes?” I said to myself. They had taken everything I was wearing away including the boots;
it left me barefoot upon the cold surface as the low breeze ran over my
dripping wet feet. “Your footwear is being repaired, follow me,” called the
Boar stood beyond the doorway. He took a great sniff of his nose as I stepped in front of
him before coughing with a familiar disgust. “I’m sorry if the water didn’t help.” He didn’t reply, instead the Boar led me to a large hall
where a great fire raised its flames to an open gap in the roof, surrounded by
a dozen more animals skulls. Sat at the end was the Matriarch who was perfectly
still upon a cushioned platform with her arms outstretched in the air. The gold
and jewels reflected the embers light into jetted rainbow shadows as I
approached. She did not move a muscle, out of curiosity I crept closer until we
were almost face to face. The tusks jutted out at either side of me as I leaned
in to look at the mask. It occurred to
me I had seen such a creature before in one of the torn pages, a many armed
elephant in a circular frame. “Ersat!” called a voice from within. I backed away and fell to the floor as she began to stand
up. First the Matriarch removed the gauntlets I thought were hands to reveal thin
a thin set of claws. Next the chest pieces dropped to the ground, displaying a
red robe underneath similar to mine in design. And lastly she unclipped the
back of her mask and pulled it away to show a face more akin to a bear than an
elephant. It struck me how different she was compared to the rest. She was
still a Tragen but the Matriarch possessed a face and build similar to myself
than that of her subjects. “Do I surprise you Ersat, is this the first time you have
met a Matriarch?” She stood above me with a look of regal confidence as I
continued to lay on the ground, awestruck by her unique nature, “Why do you not
respond Ersat?” “Forgive me Matriarch, your armour made you look completely
different.” “Did you really think I was an Elephant? Such a ridiculous
notion of course, after all your kind wiped them out along with everything else
on this circle. And you were there weren’t you?” She walked to the side of the
room and ran her hand against an ornamental skeleton. “You were there when the
last one died out, when your Masters on the council killed almost every
creature on earth.” She turned back around to face me with a bizarre look of joy.
“I’m sorry but this is the first time I’ve talked to an Ersat, they are usually
cut up in the square before there is a chance.” With a click of her claws she summoned
the Boar who placed the preservation jar in front of me. “For now we shall
gloss over how you knew about our right of tribute and address my primary
concern. Where did you get this relic?” “I found it the sewer whilst hunting for Vermin.” “What are Vermin?” “Fluffy creatures I used to-” Then I remembered that Ersat
don’t eat. “-That I used for my experiments…” “We call them the Founder’s bounty.” She spoke the name with such reverence just as the priest
did. The Old Man told me the Founder was gone but whatever legacy she left
lived on through the Tragen. It left me uneasy and full of questions I could
not ask. “I shall be honest with you Ersat; my servant’s believe it
highly dubious that you stumbled on an 800 year old jar this deep in the
circle. And now I realise that a finger is missing from your hand.” “Life down here is cruel Matriarch, I wouldn’t dream of
tricking any of your people, all I ask in return are pain killers for my
experiments.” “A matter we shall discuss tomorrow at the banquet, though
it is more of a formality since your stomach dried up long ago. Now the hour is
late and I require rest. My servant will show you back to your room.” I stood up and nervously bowed. It was something the
Matriarch seemed unprepared for as she gave the slightest of laughs and shook
her head in disbelief. The boar seemed angrier at my gesture than amused as he led
me back to my room. He stood with barely a glance at me, his hand gestured
towards the doorway. “Thank you for saving me,” I said as I slowly walked inside. “You think I saved you Ersat?” His voice kicked up in huff
behind me. “If it were my choice you would have been burned at the gates.” He stormed off and left me to my own devices as I paced
around the room until the shock of his words wore off. In those first seconds
of relief I felt a pit in my stomach; I hadn’t eaten for the better half of a
day. I dared not even sleep for fear of those animals finding me unconscious or
snoring. Regardless of the comfort it would have been insane to feel safe. “March…” The Old Man’s voice spoke through my implant in a
hazy field of familiar static. “Get out now, Reclamation is coming!” COMING SOON, chapter 3: Reclamation © 2016 M.R SteinerAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorM.R Steinera terrible city, an even more terrible region, United KingdomAboutlooking for advice and feedback, every critic welcome no matter what, I will thank you :) more..Writing
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