Bravik
“If you drink that, you will die.”
Master Irik’s warning echoes around the clearing, followed sharply by a deep, throaty laugh from my brother-in-arms. Tyrez is no doubt thinking the same as the rest of us. Aren’t those reassuring words? Tyrez scoffs and bends over the edge of the lake to dip his canteen into the still water. The movement distorts the glare of sunlight that now ripples upon the crystalline surface.
“Keep that mouth shut or you’ll be the one to die, freak,” he growls, craning his neck to glare at our hooded guide.
The shaman shakes his head slowly, his ebony hood shrouding his features in a mask of unusual shadows. Tension has been thick since we left Erebos. With every passing hour, and each failed mission piling on top of the other, our desperation to locate a cure grows. Should the eight of us return, once more, empty-handed to our home planet, we will be incarcerated for life and our species propelled further toward extinction. This may be our last chance, to save not just our lives but the lives of our people.
There is no sacrifice we are unwilling to make to ensure that happens.
Mind you, not that we really have a say in the matter; it’s either find a cure or face permanent imprisonment. The latter is one hell of an incentive.
I crouch beside Tyrez and slide my container into the water. “Come on now, Ty. Just because Master Irik is from a primitive species does not mean we should act like one.”
The comment elicits a series of chuckles from all but one of my brothers. Varyx stands at the other side of the lake, his attention fixed on the task at hand. While it is rare for him to show emotion in front of strangers, he’s voiced little since we embarked on this mission, which is not like my old friend. I have yet to gain his opinion regarding our quest. The others have been vocal since I met them—most content working together to regain their honor and freedom—but Tyrez has made his displeasure abundantly clear. Varyx, on the other hand, has remained silent, if not strangely unbothered by our predicament.
Tyrez stretches with a grunt and lifts his canteen toward the sun as if to inspect it. The droplets of water trickling from the metallic rim shimmer auburn in the sunlight. Out of all the other warriors, Tyrez is the one I share least in common with, and I look forward to when I’ll be relieved of him. But to do that, I need to complete this mission, and I really fucking hope this miserable lake will hold the key to that.
Xalen appears at my side and leans over the water. The tip of his black braid brushes the surface as he fills his container. “Personally, I rather enjoy Ty’s insatiable lust for blood,” the warrior says. “I think it provides a bit of entertainment during such tedious moments.”
“Speak for yourself,” Ezarith grumbles. He, too, lifts his container to deduce whether enough water has been collected. “Personally…” He side-glances Xalen with an amused grin. “I’d rather drink from a wet cunt than a forsaken lake.”
“It is the Forbidden Lake,” the shaman corrects. “One sip will result in a slow, agoniz—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Slow, agonizing death. We’ve got it.” Ezarith waves him off. “So, as I was saying…”
Raziel shares an amused glance with his twin, then looks at Ezarith. “Do you ever stop thinking about your cock?”
“Why would I?” Ezarith grabs his groin with a fiendish smile. “It’s the very reason that brought me to this delightful place. Fuck, I wish there were females here. My hand just isn’t quite cutting it.”
I get to my feet and tighten my grip on the canteen. It’s ironic that I was sent to the Abode of Sinners (AoS) for doing the opposite as Ezarith. Had I agreed to sleep with Her Majesty when she invited me to her chamber, I would not have been “relieved” of my title as her High Guard. I also would not have been sent to the AoS: the ship orbiting our planet where Disgraced Ones are sent to be part of the fleet tasked with scouring the universe in search of the cure. I’m a Disgraced One simply because I didn’t want to put my cock in a royal cunt that had been taken by every member of her court. Even I have standards. But it’s not just my pride that spurred my refusal. I had no desire