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bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years

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For Unity by @jaywings and me

Rating: T Genre: Friendship, Angst Characters: urGoh, skekGra, skekSil, skekSo, skekTek, skekVar, urVa, urSu, urSol, urZah, possibly others… Warnings: A LOT OF VIOLENCE. Description: One was as vile and repulsive as his brethren. He murdered, and maimed, and reveled in it. The other was as slow and indirect as the rest of his brethren. He hated his dark half as much as the others did theirs. But who they were did not matter, for Thra saw its moment, and seized its opportunity. Beta Reader: ThePrairieNerd

—~~~—

Chapter 8: One, That Became Two, That Became One Again Summary: In which the Wanderer takes the first steps.

—~~~—

His hand was empty.

As he made his way through the Dark Forest, guided only by the light of the Sisters, urGoh found himself rubbing his thumb over his calloused palm repeatedly; the shard he'd carried for only a few days had felt almost like a companion to him. And yet it had shattered beneath his fingers, leaving nothing but sparkling dust in his hand—gone in a mere moment.

And what a strange moment it was.

The shared memory threatened to return, but urGoh pushed it aside. Dwelling on it would do nothing but fill him with an unhelpful, unreachable ache of longing. Instead he focused on the absence of the crystal shard, reflecting on just why it had taken that exact moment to shatter. Had the connection he'd felt extended to the shard, and corrupted it, causing it to break? Or... had the shard served its purpose?

The more urGoh thought of it, the more it seemed to be the latter, and the more unsettled he felt.

It wanted them to unify. Not just the tiny shard—the Crystal. All of Thra. A Mystic uniting with a Skeksis... who ever thought of such a thing?

The idea of working alongside the Conqueror was not something that brought urGoh any comfort, no matter how Thra urged them to. He would, he would certainly try, but he did sometimes question the wisdom of this world. After all, could a creature who had killed so many others truly decide to stop within a matter of days? Could such a monster actually change his ways, and so quickly?

"You better... have a good idea... of what... you're making us... do," he grunted to a passing tree, which merely shuffled its roots in response. "This meeting could end... very badly."

The idea of a Skeksis conversing with a Mystic was absurd to begin with, but to willingly bring the most vile of their kind so close to the Valley to meet again? What a terrible idea! Why had he agreed to this?

But at the same time... he couldn’t shake this feeling—that moment, when they both recalled the same campfire, with the same Gelfling telling the same story, because they...

The sudden ache in his chest made him stumble, and he shook his head, keeping his gaze trained forward. No—he couldn't keep rethinking this. His path had been decided, and there was no turning back now.

As urGoh walked, the first rising sun cast strange, flickering shadows in the trees, winking in and out of view and slipping through the leaves as though they were following him. One shadow broke away from the rest, twining serpentlike partway down the trunk of a tree before a shape landed in front of him with a thump. UrGoh backed up a step, squinting hard.

The first Brother was at his eye-line, and he could not see the figure that confronted him, save for a looming, spiked silhouette. For a heart-stopping moment he thought it was skekGra, having changed his mind and abandoned all sense, returning to attack him again.

“A plod-stomping urRu,” the figure rasped in a low voice. “In the Dark Wood.”

It had to be a Skeksis, but urGoh didn’t immediately recognize it. Sunlight glinted off the edge of a wicked dagger it gripped in its claw.

UrGoh raised a hand to block the light and attempted to duck to one side in order to clear his vision, but the creature simply moved with him with a fluidity that he did not expect.

“This looks like valuable pickings,” it went on. “A Mystic’s floundering tongue would be the trophy of trophies. And the head of a Skeksis would come freely with no miserable squabbling.”

“You are… bluffing,” urGoh said. No Skeksis would purposely bring harm to another Skeksis, surely? Especially by attacking their Mystic counterpart. They seemed to prefer open confrontation.

A beaked, reptilian head was suddenly thrust in his face, eyes narrowed under a mask made from the skull of some unfortunate creature.

“Am I?” the Skeksis spat.

UrGoh shuffled backwards, his tail dragging through the leaves, still trying to get a good look at his aggressor. The mask had revealed the exact identity of this Skeksis, though it was someone he’d never met—nor, truthfully, had wanted to meet.

“How did you… know I was here?” he asked, hesitantly. Had this creature caught sight of skekGra?

The Hunter hissed through jagged fangs. “I followed your lumbering footsteps for miles. The blundering Mystic disturbed the rakkida pack I was tracking.”

“Oh. I am… sorry,” urGoh said uncertainly. He didn’t have much love for rakkida, vicious as they could be, though the thought of more deaths attributed to the Skeksis gave his stomach a sickening lurch. “Perhaps if you go after them now… you will find them again.”

“But they’re no longer a worthy prize,” the Hunter sneered. “They were scared off by a Mystic.”

He lunged suddenly, faster than urGoh could have prepared for, but withdrew with a snarl almost within the same second. A large arrow had sprouted from the ground at his feet.

“Leave this place, skekMal,” the deep, resonant voice of the Archer rang out, as the Mystic stepped into view. He had strung his towering bow, another arrow nocked loosely in the string but not yet pulled taut. “The forest is not yours to command, much as you think it is.”

The Skeksis clicked his teeth. “All who trespass into the Endless Forest beyond their piddly settlements invite death from the shadows.”

“I see no shadows,” urVa growled. “You stand in the light of day.”

UrGoh could see a shadow, however: the one standing before them, cloaked in death.

As they were speaking, the sun had risen higher, now leaving the Hunter in plain view. He stood up straighter, rattling the morbid trophies that hung from his belt—skulls and pieces taken from previous victims that urGoh did not immediately recognize, and he tried to look away, for fear he eventually would.

"I am a Lord of the Crystal, and master of these woods, in light or in darkness," skekMal snarled. "I can hunt what I wish, whenever I wish, hidden or not!"

"I see." UrVa returned his arrow and unstrung his bow. Then, his eyes always upon the Hunter, he marched forward until he had situated himself between skekMal and urGoh. He lifted his head, a challenging gaze piercing his other half's eyes. "Hunt me, then."

For a long moment, the three of them stood silently, skekMal and urVa both eerily still, each a corrupted reflection of the other. Only urGoh moved, glancing back and forth between the two, wondering which of them was truly mad enough to make the first move.

SkekMal suddenly lunged his head forward, letting out a vicious howl, and charged. While urGoh cringed back, urVa stood his ground, and the Skeksis bolted in a wide arc around them, rushing into the depths of the Dark Forest. UrGoh kept an eye on him until his form melted into the trees, while urVa regarded the situation with an almost detached calmness. Finally the Archer turned away, his long bow thudding against the soft ground as he moved on without comment.

"Um... thank you," urGoh said, blinking and trailing after urVa. "I wasn't sure... what would happen there."

"SkekMal is a dangerous creature," urVa said plainly. "His actions can be unpredictable, even among the Skeksis… But even he would not be fool enough to attack..."

UrGoh waited for him to finish; when he did not, he merely followed, keeping an eye on the path ahead.

"You have been wounded," the Archer said suddenly, and urGoh gingerly touched the scratches on his snout.

"My... other half," he mumbled, and urVa gave a quiet hum. They walked in silence for a few minutes longer. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but nor was it much of a companionable one, and it inescapably put him in mind of their previous journey toward the Valley together. It felt like countless trine ago. Had it really been only a few days?

"For what reason do you take the path through this forest, urGoh?" urVa asked.

"Hm. Other than... my being... a Wanderer?" UrGoh slowly turned his head, giving his companion a wry smile. But urVa did not spare him another glance; he didn't seem to be in such good humor this morning, and urGoh sighed. "I am... returning... to the Valley."

UrVa stopped, lifting his head as he faced urGoh at last. "Again? Your wandering path rarely leads you home. What brings you back this time?"

Glancing back the way skekMal had fled, urGoh frowned. "I have... something important... to discuss with urSu."

"A better conversation would be had with the mountainside."

UrGoh cast his gaze downward. "Perhaps. But... even a mountain may eventually give in... if it is worn down enough, or if something large... should impact it."

"Hmm." The Archer closed his eyes. "I see you are still concerned with the plight of the Gruenaks. If the Master has already given his verdict on the subject, I fear nothing but the voice of Thra itself may change his mind, my friend.”

“The Gruenak devastation… has… passed.” UrGoh could not keep the bitterness from his voice. “I return with… a different matter.”

Briefly urGoh considered telling everything, and glanced down at the forest floor to contemplate his words. But the light cast by the first brother upon urVa created a looming, dark shadow behind him, and he shuddered. No. He could not speak here.

"I see." For the first time that morning, a smile crossed urVa's muzzle. "I am keen to see what you believe can move a mountain."

"As... am I." UrGoh blinked. The Archer’s wording had struck him. “You wish… to join me?”

“I will. Perhaps it is now time I returned to the others, as well,” urVa said. “But please… no poetry.”

“No,” urGoh said mournfully. “I… lost it all… in an unintended swim.”

“Ah. That is certainly a shame.”

The two resumed their journey, urGoh confident in knowing that it would not split at the Valley entrance this time. He felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders—but was almost immediately replaced by another one as the enormity of his task set in. The thought of trusting any Skeksis was still a rather foreign concept to him. How in Thra’s name might his brethren be convinced?

—~~~—

He looked like an idiot.

He certainly felt like an idiot, especially among the other Skeksis who probably hadn't set foot outside the Castle in who knows how many trine. SkekGra was uncomfortably aware of the mud on his claws, ashes on his armor, the cuts on his face, and the myriad of twigs and leaves clinging to his robes. He could feel the burn of their stares. Would there be a time when he wouldn't traipse back to the castle drenched in all manner of filth?

SkekGra had hoped to return unnoticed, but he should have known otherwise. It was getting too late in the day, and the castle was far too busy. He managed to climb back up through the catacombs unnoticed, but was spotted by guards as soon as he reached the first of the more populated floors of the castle. Now he could only trudge through the cold stone halls like a Podling before the Deturge and hope he wouldn't be questioned.

And also, once again, to make the choice between food or sleep. His cramping stomach suggested which one should take priority. Hastily, he brushed off the worst of the grime and headed for the Banquet Hall.

"So... the murdering scourge of Thra... is afraid of me..."

The deep, slow voice, the chirping of desert insects, and the crackling of a fire echoed in his head.

"The Crystal is fractured... It felt like pain, emptiness, incompleteness... Have you not thought... that it needed to be healed?"

An image of the great Crystal, once a pure, shining white, now bled a deep violet. The memory of the Crystal of Truth dragged down to the Scientist's lab in heavy metal claws, pulsing against the cruel restraints.

"It never occurred to me..."

Someone prodded at his side, hard, and he picked up an urgent, whispered, "Lord Skeksis-ah!"

SkekGra jerked upright, blinking in alarm, his warrior's instinct fighting to take in every aspect of his surroundings. He was seated at his place at the banquet table. Several Skeksis around him were croaking with laughter. There was an upturned bowl of soup in front of him. And his face was dripping.

A Podling face looked up at him anxiously—the one who had poked him awake, no doubt. SkekGra waved him away, heart shriveling slightly in embarrassment as he mopped up his face with a dry part of the tablecloth. Irritably he noticed the others were still cackling. What were they laughing about? He could do an entire series of paintings about the stupid things each and every one of them had done. And whom at this table hadn't ever buried their face in a bowl of soup?

Too bad his own stupidity seemed to be coming more frequently as of late.

After shaking off the mortification, shoving some amount of food in his mouth, and regaining some strength in his limbs, it was of course time to attend the Ceremony of the Sun once again. He stood at his place in the circle, his gaze unwavering, letting strength flow into him that he knew was never theirs to take, and spoke to no one. He did not catch skekTek's eye, ignored any jeers presented by the others, their own insults forgotten as soon as they garnered no response.

"Lord Conqueror!"

A voice called out to him in the corridor as he made his way to his chambers, and he finally stopped, looking down to see a Vapran Gelfling rush up to him. He gave a start as he recognized this one.

"Conall," he greeted, the name slipping out before he even realized that he knew what it was. Strange... he'd never cared much about learning their names.

The Gelfling dipped forward in a bow as he reached him. "My lord, I've just returned from the battalion of Gelfling sent back to the Caves of Grot to rout out the Gruenak stragglers. They told me that no one had reported to you about it, so I immediately sought you out. We..." He swallowed nervously, as though unsure how skekGra would take his next words. "We- we didn't find anything, my lord. And the Grottans swore that they had offered no further protection to the traitors."

Again, the voice returned to his mind: "You spared two. Two of the hundreds... that fell by your swords."

He swiped his tongue over his jaws, and gave his response in almost a trance. “Let them escape…” he muttered.

Maybe they did escape, he thought. Maybe they left those foul caves and found a place to settle, far from conflict.

The Vapran, meanwhile, quailed away from him, face paling and ears flicking back. "N-no, my lord, we did not intend to, but we had orders from Emperor skekSo to return. I'm so sorry, my lord. We won't give up. Every time we're sent out again, we'll keep a watch for them. We'll track them down eventually, and make them pay for eluding the army of the Castle of the Crystal!"

SkekGra's stomach wrenched. "Yes. See that you do."

“And I… I wanted to warn you, my lord…” the Gelfling wrung his hands. “The guards have been saying strange things. Things… about you.”

SkekGra gave a sniff. “I think I can handle a few Gelfling rumors. Now, attend to your duties, Vapran.”

He took his leave from the young guard and, in a haze, found his quarters and loomed in the doorway like a dark shadow.

Oh, Thra, it was a disaster in here. Someone would have to take care of this.

He crossed into the room, placed his weapons carefully beside his wardrobe, and promptly turned to collapse face-first onto his bed.

"You feel... guilty, Conqueror."

Another sickening lurch to his insides.

Vaguely he grasped at the tattered wish for a sleep with no dreams, no visions, no haunted words, no drowning Mystic idiots or cries from the Crystal to rip him from unconsciousness. He wasn't built for this nonsense.

Oh. And I promised another meeting with the Wanderer in some Thra-forsaken corner just outside the Dark Wood.

Eyes tightly closed, his tongue snapped a sharp curse and one fist beat against his bedcovers. When had this become his life?

—~~~—

It was the phrase that skekGra fell asleep to, and blearily woke several hours later with it still running through his mind. He pushed himself to his feet, and finally exchanged his sodden robes for clean ones—the others had been through a lot, he noted, as he laid the forlorn-looking clothes out flat on the bed—and sheathed his weapons back in their proper places before strolling from the room.

Not wanting to have to navigate another conversation or lecture from anyone this time, he took back ways around the Castle, slipping unseen into the Scrollkeeper's library to swipe a map, and then retreating down through the catacombs to undergo another unpleasant crawl out through the Teeth of Skreesh.

An unexpected scent hit his nostrils before he reached the way out, however, and he tensed. Gelfling? He could have sworn he caught a hint of stale Gelfling scent. But that was impossible—Gelfling had always been forbidden from coming down here. Anyone who broke that rule would be thrown from the Castle, along with any members of their family, and with such a black mark on their record would likely never be able to find civilized work again.

He shoved the matter aside and continued on his way.

It would be nice, he thought, to not have to leave the castle like this again. But at least it was secretive, as no one considered that anyone in their right mind would use this path.

"It's been a long time since I've been in my right mind," he muttered, swatting a dangling branch out of his face. Consulting the map he'd borrowed, he pinpointed the unlikely spot for the Wanderer's planned meeting with whatever Mystic he could drag out of its hole, and started off on a path southeast from the Castle.

Was he ready to meet another Mystic?

His teeth clicked. The tips of his fingers twitched. There was a prickling at his back as his spines rose.

He didn't fear the Mystics. What was to fear? The Wanderer himself had stated that anger was not natural to them. And aside the Hunter's strange counterpart, he doubted that they even had a concept of weaponry.

It was the wrongness of it all that unsettled him so. The knowledge that he would have to look into some creature's beady eyes and see the distorted, meandering reflection of someone he knew. Which one would it be?

And why did he dread this decision more with every step?

—-~~~—-

The third Brother barely broke over the horizon as urGoh and urVa neared the Valley. The Archer paused as they drew closer, and for a moment urGoh feared he would turn away again.

However, urGoh quickly spotted the reason for it, and could only stare as urSol the Chanter approached them along the trail, stopping in front of them.

“...Chanter,” urGoh said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “You have… left the Valley.”

UrSol inclined his head, a slight smile on his face. “I have taken four steps beyond the border. Hardly a long trip when compared to the Wanderer.” He looked up, his eyes shadowed. “Did you find what you were looking for, urGoh?”

UrGoh paused, his neck dipping slightly as though weighed down.

“...No,” he said after a moment. The Chanter blinked in sympathy, and urGoh went on. “But I did find… something else.”

UrSol's gaze turned to urVa, regarding him with a tipped head. "You found... the Archer."

"...Yes," urGoh said. "But that is... not all. I must speak... with urSu."

At that, the Chanter heaved a sigh. "I may speak in many voices... but none of them can reach Master urSu." Yet he smiled at urGoh, and continued, "But that does not mean the Wanderer will not succeed." With that, he resumed his original course, passing the other two Mystics and heading up and away from the Valley.

Though urGoh knew he could not delay long, curiosity overcame him and he turned to face the Chanter. "Where do you... go?"

"To seek new songs outside the Valley," the other said without turning around. "And new company. But I will not be gone long. Perhaps a few trine."

"Avoid the forest," urVa said, eyeing urSol seriously. "No song is worth an encounter with the monster that lurks there."

UrSol paused. "I fear not the shadows," he said, and did not stop again.

With the departure of the third Mystic, the two made their way further into the Valley, watching as the slow life of their fellows went on as usual. UrZah the Ritual Guardian did not look up from his sand painting, though the Weaver waved in greeting as urGoh and urVa passed by. While urGoh was glad to see the other urRu again, his mind dwelled on other matters. "Where... do you suppose..." he began, but trailed off when he saw the Archer had stopped. UrVa's gaze was turned upward, and urGoh followed it, blinking in surprise.

UrSu stood on the ledge above them, regarding him with an expression urGoh could not read.

"Wanderer," he said. "You rarely return home without purpose." He did not question urVa's presence, and urGoh's mane prickled.

"I have come... to show you something," urGoh said. "Something... of great importance..."

"And what have you brought to our Valley?" urSu asked.

"I did not bring—" urGoh nearly said “him,” but caught himself just in time, "—the… important thing... with me. You must come with me... beyond the Valley."

The Archer snapped his head toward urGoh alarmingly fast, eyes wide. Every other urRu within listening distance did the same, their heads raised and snouts pointed almost accusingly at urGoh. UrVa opened his mouth to speak, but urSu was faster.

"It is one thing for other urRu to leave the Valley," he said. UrSu's gaze had an uncharacteristic hardness to it. "I have permitted some to leave... against all counseling, whether from clouded judgment and dissatisfaction, seeking perpetual solitude, or a futile wanderlust… the Storyteller, the Swimmer, and the Monk, passed beyond our sight... the Archer, living alone, the Peacemaker… the Chanter, ever guided by his ill-formed emotions, storming off after another argument… And to say nothing of you, Wanderer, as it’s in your very name.” His gaze never left urGoh. "But to ask for me to pass beyond the Valley’s borders…”

"He would be killed," urVa said plainly. "A Skeksis would surely seek him and swiftly kill him. To take his power."

UrGoh looked him in the eye. "But you... have faced your own dark half, and driven him away."

The Archer regarded him for a moment before humming and turning aside.

"Master urSu," urGoh went on, facing his leader again. "This is of... vital importance. Thra itself... demands it."

UrSu heaved a long sigh through his nostrils. "Thra has not spoken to me of such things."

"Thra... has spoken... to me."

The Valley went still. Without looking, urGoh knew the others were staring at him, and he knew how absurd his claim sounded. But he continued to stare into urSu's eyes, his own gaze serious, pleading. If urSu would not at least see what he was going to propose, there was no hope of his ever listening.

The Master returned his gaze for an agonizingly long moment, and urGoh held his breath. But slowly, slowly urSu turned away, his heavy steps plodding across the wooden walkway. Heart suddenly heavy, urGoh lowered his head, shutting his eyes against the sheer frustration and sadness welling up within him.

A better conversation would be had with the mountainside, indeed.

"Show me, then."

Straightening, urGoh spun around as quickly as he could, almost falling over himself, to find urSu watching him again and leaning heavily on his staff.

"Show me what Thra has shown you, that it has kept secret from me."

UrGoh blinked stupidly, his mouth falling open and throat producing no sound.

"Then I want to see as well," urVa said somberly, shifting the walking stick that doubled as his bow. "Lead the way, Wanderer."

The knot in his chest loosened itself a little, the burden easing, and urGoh nodded. "Yes... right... away."

—~~~—

What was he doing?

Every step brought deep dread seeping back into his bones, displacing the relief he’d felt, his jaw set with his teeth clenched together.

Not one of them spoke. The calm camaraderie that urGoh had felt with urVa on the trek back to the Valley had vanished, replaced by a cold fragility, three slow-moving figures set on a single destination, all lost in their own reveries and none too happy to be going.

This was a mistake. The thought wound itself through urGoh’s head and felt heavy on his tongue, as though desperate to be spoken aloud to send the others home. He glanced behind him to see urVa’s face set in grim determination, his eyes slowly roving from side to side as though to watch for threats. UrSu by contrast had his gaze set straight ahead, watching neither urVa, urGoh, or their surroundings for that matter.

This was a mistake. I am leading both of them into a Skeksis trap.

UrGoh slowly shook his head, tossing out his mane. A trap? No. SkekGra could not restrain and capture three Mystics at once, particularly when one of them was the Archer. And he certainly couldn’t kill them without harming himself, along with a highly revered and feared Skeksis in the Hunter, and his own Emperor.

Unless the death of Emperor skekSo was the point.

UrGoh glanced again at urSu, with urVa following in his wake. This was why the Archer had come along—to grant the Master all the protection he could offer. But skekGra did not even know that urGoh had planned to bring urSu to the meeting place. UrGoh hadn’t told him.

“And he’s… changed,” urGoh said aloud, as though speaking the words might make him believe them.

“What did you say?” the Archer said evenly. UrSu said nothing.

“I said… so much... has changed,” urGoh said, his fingers curling.

UrSu spoke up then, still gazing ahead. “Eternity does not change. The stars, the planets, they sweep across the sky in an endless rhythm. We are nothing to the great expanse of the universe, the creatures who dwell here even less so. Our lives are a whisper that makes no impact, until we are called to act by a mediator of the cosmos.” He tilted his head to look straight at urGoh. “So what is it, Wanderer, that you wanted to show us?”

The Master’s response had drawn the small party to a stop—uncannily close, urGoh realized, to the meeting spot he had set up with skekGra. UrGoh drew in a deep breath and slowly, slowly, turned to face the others.

“We are here,” he said simply.

“And there is something… waiting for us?” UrVa’s face had darkened, though his expression was not altogether readable.

UrGoh hesitated. “I am… not sure yet. I… will go check.”

He turned quickly to avoid the looks in their eyes and pushed through the bracken and curtain of leaves up ahead, coming to a stop when he reached a clearing and a strong, sour scent hit his nostrils.

The forest here was silent, as though nothing wanted to reveal its presence.

There was no doubt. SkekGra was here.

As he had this thought, a nearby branch shifted and suddenly the Conqueror was there, slipping out into the daylight, eyes bright and accusing. He tilted his head up, taking a sniff of the air. With a jolt urGoh remembered how much better senses of smell Skeksis had than most other creatures he knew—certainly better than Mystics.

“I thought you were bringing maybe one Mystic,” skekGra growled. “What kind of trickery is this? Was this a trap?”

UrGoh stretched his neck higher, looking the Skeksis straight in the eyes. “Those I have brought… fear a trap from you.”

The Conqueror went rigid, his eyes aflame with fury and horror. “How many others did you tell about me?!”

“None… yet.” He held unwavering eye contact. “I have told them… nothing. But we discussed... that we should share our revelations... with the Mystics. So I… have brought them.”

“What, all of them?” SkekGra shook his head hard. “We didn’t discuss anything! This was your idea, which you simply flung at me while I was in a hurry—”

UrGoh interrupted. “It is… time.”

Before he could change his mind, he turned and let out a low note from deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through the trees and causing the leaves to tremble. SkekGra cried out and flung his hands over his ears, baring his jagged fangs.

Before urGoh’s call had faded, urSu and urVa strode through the trees and stood behind him, the disheveled Skeksis in full view.

Neither Mystic betrayed any hint of surprise, though the worn, spiralling creases in their faces had hardened. SkekGra, however, looked alarmed; in a flash of sunlight he had drawn three blades—a short sword along with two daggers clutched in his secondary arms—and dropped into a defensive stance.

At some point, out of urGoh’s sight, urVa had nocked an arrow, though he did not yet draw it.

No one spoke. No breeze blew, the atmosphere heavy and taut as if the air itself were the Archer’s bow. UrGoh felt as if the slightest movement would snap the fragile strings holding them all at bay and the clearing would erupt into chaos.

He made the tiniest gesture toward skekGra, his eyes on the two Mystics.

“Here… is what I wanted you to... see,” he said, his tongue lame in his mouth. He half-expected the Archer to run him through with an arrow where he stood, perhaps not even bothering to loose it first.

"...A Skeksis," urSu said, and urVa tightened his grip on his bow.

"Yes," urGoh replied, twitching his tail in a vain attempt to rid himself of the excess tension in the air. "This is the skekGra, the Conqueror... my other half."

"This was a terrible place to meet it," urVa said, his voice a strained growl.

"Why?" skekGra asked suspiciously, and if it were possible, the tension only increased in the small clearing. Something was going to snap. "If you're worried about the Hunter, I don't think he comes out this far."

"He... hmmm." Slowly urVa lowered his bow, but only by a fraction. He doesn't, was probably what he had been planning to say, but he'd evidently thought the better of it, not wanting the Skeksis to know what he was actually worried about.

"Can you stop pointing that thing at me?" skekGra demanded, glancing from urVa to urGoh. "You’ll end up hurting him too, you know."

"Your weapons are still drawn," urVa retorted.

At that, skekGra pulled back slightly. "Listen, I don't know which ones you are, but..." He ground his teeth furiously. "...But my Emperor would have my head if the others found out I attacked you. I'd be attacking one of my own."

UrVa did loosen the pull on his arrow upon hearing that, lowering the weapon in surprise, but urSu's gaze hardened. "I do not believe it. No Skeksis has honor."

"This again," skekGra growled, but slowly sheathed his weapons. One talon, however, rested on the hilt of his sword.

"What does it mean, again?" urVa questioned, this time turning to urGoh.

"SkekGra and I met yesterday," he admitted. "It was then... we decided... to speak with you."

The Conqueror clicked his beak sharply. "Oh, yes, this was truly something we agreed upon, with full understanding of each other."

Slowly urSu turned his gaze upon urGoh. "Is this... what Thra spoke to you of?"

"Thra... spoke to us." UrGoh took a small step, merely shuffling his feet, realizing moments later that he had moved slightly closer to skekGra. "Both of us. We... were given... visions."

There was silence for a moment.

“Thra does not give us visions,” urVa said. “We are not truly a part of this world.”

"Any vision received by a Skeksis is sure to be one of corruption," urSu said, finally looking skekGra in the eye. Apparently the Conqueror could see a certain something in the Master's eyes, for he took a step back.

"I... I did see corruption in my vision," skekGra admitted after a moment. "Thra itself falling apart at the seams. Death everywhere. Even the Skeksis..." He swallowed. "We rotted where we stood." His gaze grew distant for a moment, before hardening, as he looked at urSu accusingly. "I'm sure the same was happening to you lot as well."

"It was... a warning," urGoh said quickly, before a fight could break out. "Thra showed me... that the Crystal... needed healing."

For a moment urVa and urSu were silent, the two turning their gazes upon each other. UrSu's face was unreadable, but urVa raised an eyebrow in interest. "Yes," he agreed. "The Crystal... does need to be healed."

"But not by one of our own," urSu said. "That is not our destiny."

"So what do you propose we do?" skekGra snapped. "Sit around and hope someone patches a bandage on it?!"

UrSu glared at him. “Nor is it a task that the Skeksis will accomplish. We must wait for the Crystal... to call."

"That is not... what Thra... told us," urGoh said. "It said... we must strive... for unity. All of Thra. The Gelfling—"

"The Gelfling have Aughra to aid them," the Master interjected.

"Aughra yet slumbers." UrVa said. His head lowered, but only for a moment.

"It is not our call."

"Oh, listen to yourselves!" skekGra snapped, teeth bared in a hiss. "Do you Mystics ever do anything other than mumble, walk in circles, and chant nonsense? When are you going to do something about all this?”

"A Skeksis would lecture us on taking action?" UrVa’s gaze was piercing.

The Conqueror’s eyes flared. “If even one of you bitter, long-necked sloths would stand up and act, you could march up to the Castle of the Crystal itself, and—!” He faltered.

UrGoh stared at his dark half. What?

He shook his head—it wasn’t important now. "What the Conqueror means,” he said, “is that... we are taking steps... to solve... the problem."

"The only steps we must take are the ones that will lead us when the Crystal calls us," urSu said simply.

"Thra... has told us otherwise." Looking between the Master and the Archer, urGoh curled his tail around his legs, mentally preparing himself for what he would say next. "Thra... wants us to unify... not just the rest of Thra... but the Skeksis... and the Mystics... together."

UrVa lifted his head, his eyes wide, while urSu's expression did not change. More alarmingly, he raised not only his head, but his entire body, his four hands braced against his staff. At his full height he towered over skekGra, and the Conqueror's feet dug into the dirt as though he wanted to be swallowed by it.

"It... is not... our... time."

The words hung heavily in the air, the solid weight of them bearing down on the shoulders of everyone in the clearing. UrGoh felt they would crush him, and nearly sank to the ground.

"Do you believe it, Wanderer?" urVa said, finally breaking the deafening silence. "That we should unite with our dark halves?"

"...Yes," urGoh replied, and froze at the look urVa gave him in return. Only then did he remember the encounter with the Hunter, a Skeksis who showed none of skekGra's fear of harming his own kind. "Um... Thra... told me..."

"Was it indeed Thra?" urSu stared down at him; he had not lowered himself in the slightest. "Or was it a product of your endless wanderings?"

"It's true!" skekGra blurted. "I saw it too. Thra won't leave us alone about it!" He gestured toward urGoh. “Show them the thing you had last night, that little glittery crystal shard! That looked important.”

“I… can’t,” urGoh said dolefully, glancing down out of habit at his empty hands. “It… shattered.”

“Oh. That’s helpful.”

UrSu stared at skekGra again, unmoved, and the Skeksis visibly balked. "I do not believe a Skeksis would be granted such a vision. Thra... has not said such to me."

"I wonder why," the Conqueror snapped, regaining his composure at once.

UrSu slowly dropped back into his normal posture. He looked wearier than urGoh had ever seen him. "A Skeksis is not to be trusted," he said finally, and turned to urGoh. "You must never again speak with your other half."

"What?" urGoh said, stunned.

"UrSu is right." UrVa took a step forward. "Was it not you yourself who spoke of the evils this creature has done? The blood he has shed?"

Even without looking, urGoh could feel skekGra's gaze upon him. His toes dug into the grass, his tail curling tightly. Once again, he saw the two Gruenaks huddled in a corner deep in the Caves of Grot, still mourning their lost family member. Even more, he could still see the shoreline of the Silver Sea, drenched in red with more than the light from the setting suns. "I... did... speak of such things."

"Our shadows... have reveled in bloodshed." There was nothing accusatory to urVa's voice; it was steeped in sorrow. "We should not wish to join with that."

UrGoh shook his head. “We… would not—”

"Nghhh—you’re missing the point!" skekGra cried. "You think I'm glad about the things I've done? Will none of you cretins believe me? Thra is... it's... look, I don't want that future it showed me, either! All right?"

UrSu and urVa's stares were upon him again, boring into him for a long while, until even urGoh felt uncomfortable. It was urSu who broke the silence: "Even now... you prove that the Skeksis act only in self-interest, and can do nothing good."

Something bolted up from the tip of urGoh's tail and all the way up his spine, and his chest burned. "At least... he does... something!" he snapped, glaring at the Master. When urSu stared back at him, he was tempted to back away, but held his ground. "We have done... nothing... to help Thra... for hundreds of trine. What does it matter... if something is done... in self-interest... if it is done at all?" His tail lashed, and he did not wait for a reply. "SkekGra... has decided... to join the cause... of Thra itself. That, I believe, is good. What... have you done... Master?"

Silence hung in the clearing. It was broken not by speech, but by a strange, soft crooning sound that emanated, to urGoh's shock, from the Conqueror's throat.

The Skeksis stepped forward, leveling himself with urGoh once again.

"There is one more thing we could try," he said lowly, and urGoh wasn't sure if it was meant for everyone to hear or for him alone. SkekGra looked down at him, the corners of his beak folded in a grim line.

And he held out a gloved hand.

"...Ah..." urGoh couldn't keep the single word from escaping with his breath. Icy claws like his dark half's talons pierced his heart, driving deeply into it. His eyes locked on the offered hand, and all it implied, and he couldn't move. The other two Mystics were like statues as they watched the proceedings.

"UrGoh?" skekGra prompted, and urGoh wondered if this was the first time the Skeksis had used his name. "UrGoh—take it, will you? This doesn't look good."

He felt as though he were drifting away on the tide, at the mercy of the waves. To take that hand was to offer alliance—friendship—to this creature that had slaughtered hundreds, thousands, and relished their suffering. To sever himself entirely from his own kind and tie himself even further to this shattered perversion of a being that differed from himself in every way. All in a bid to save this world from darkness.

He reached out and took skekGra's hand.

A great surge of feeling erupted through him, a warmth, a light as brilliant and blazing as the Crystal of Truth had once been. UrGoh took an astonished breath. This feeling… he hadn’t felt like this since—

In an instant he was jarred from the vision as skekGra pulled his hand away and the world returned to normal. Dazed, urGoh forced his focus back onto urSu and urVa. What had they seen?

“There!” the Skeksis said beside him. "You want unity? There's some unity!"

UrSu blinked at them slowly. “I did not see unity,” he said. “I saw hesitation—a lack of conviction. And a desire for selfish victory rather than benevolence.”

UrGoh bristled; next to him, skekGra cried, “WHAT?”

He went on, “I held a Mystic’s grubby hand and this is your reaction?! You only see what you want to see!”

UrGoh shifted uncomfortably. “We’re… working on it,” he said.

The Master shook his head, slowly, as though sorrowful. Finally, he turned away. "You... neither of you… will ever understand."

He started to leave, but glanced back only once. “If you decide to come back, urGoh, you may not be welcomed… unless you can convince me you have changed your mind.”

With that, the Master stamped his staff into the ground, and headed back toward the Valley without another word.

Frustration welled up through every fiber of urGoh's body. All four of his hands clenched into fists. He turned to urVa, ready to speak again, but his voice died when he saw the Archer's expression.

"...You believe I should join with the Hunter?"

There was a faint, desperate hope to urVa's voice. Hope that urGoh would prove him wrong.

For a moment, urGoh wanted to say no, that he would never ask his friend to even attempt such a thing. But he knew—he knew he could not waver.

"Yes."

UrVa stared at him, and silently turned away as well, his bow striking the ground sharply beneath him.

Once again, the clearing was silent, and urGoh could only stare hollowly at the spot where his companions had disappeared through the woods. Something was again bubbling up within him, but it was neither anger nor frustration. It filled his stomach and chest and throat until it finally burst through his mouth in a booming, echoing call.

Birds and fliers scattered from their roosts, and the tension was finally gone.

"Well," skekGra said, startling urGoh—he'd almost forgotten the Skeksis was still there. "So much for that."

Gritting his teeth, urGoh sighed through his nose before swinging his head toward skekGra. He felt exhausted—more than he had been in a long, long while. To his surprise, skekGra did not look the same, but was instead watching urGoh with an expression he found hard to read.

"...Did you feel it too?" he finally asked.

It took urGoh a moment to remember. “Yeah,” he admitted. “For… a moment.”

SkekGra nodded slowly, then hesitated. "And... did you really mean what you said? You think I'm... I'm better than the Mystics?"

UrGoh tipped his head, embarrassed and a little ashamed. "You... act more than any of us... certainly." Oddly, he found strength in his own words. "I believe... you can be good. What is the point... of unity... if you cannot?"

SkekGra gave what might have been a laugh, but without any humor. “Good? What is your definition of ‘good’?” He fiddled with the hilt of his sword. "I dunno. I'm... still figuring this out." His tail flicked. "...Now what?"

"That..." urGoh began, and paused. "...I do not... know." He tilted his head one way, then another. "We could... talk to... the Skeksis?"

Staggering back, skekGra grabbed his bony chest with his talons. "Do you have a death wish after all?!"

UrGoh frowned, a tendril of irritation curling in his own chest. “No.”

“You must, or that wouldn’t have even crossed your mind!” SkekGra’s beak snapped. “Those lumbering Mystic friends of yours were merely disappointed. Set foot in the Castle of the Crystal and they’d tear us both apart!” He paused dramatically. “Tear us apart separately, so we’d feel each other’s pain as well as our own!”

Raising a brow, urGoh said skeptically, “They would not… do such to one of their own.”

The Skeksis’ nostrils flared. “Oh? So sure, are you? And what of skekNa’s counterpart, urNol? What is he, the Herbalist? Noticed anything missing about him lately? I suppose his hand dropped off of its own accord? His eye vanished overnight through some… some fluke?”

UrGoh lowered his eyes. He had received word of the Herbalist’s plight, but had not looked into it. He remembered skekGra’s previous lamentations about the cruelty of Skeksis punishments and, for the first time, began to wonder…

SkekGra drew himself up higher, his eyes dimly lit with a familiar sort of victory. It was a light that flared and then died once more, as the realization of what that victory meant sank in. “Thra may have chosen to unite us, but the others will never be convinced. Never, Wanderer. It’s not in their natures!”

UrGoh’s breath caught. “And yet… it is in… ours?”

That gave them both pause.

“This was never in my nature,” skekGra said quietly. “I shouldn’t still be here talking to you. I should follow the winding trail of those urRu to see where you things like to vanish beyond our sights. I should bring you all to the Castle in chains.”

They looked at each other.

“I would… like to see you attempt… to chain up the Archer,” urGoh said mildly.

“Who’s chaining up longnecks?” a cantankerous voice demanded, making them both jump. “What’s all this racket?”

Both skekGra and urGoh spun around, the former brandishing his weapons again instinctively. But just as quickly he lowered them, and urGoh raised his head in astonishment.

Before them stood an old crone, her mane of gray hair curling around two spiraling ram horns and framing a face that once had three eyes. One eye had been put out over a thousand trine ago, while another was dimly lit, but still seeing. The leftmost eye, meanwhile, darted accusingly between the Skeksis and Mystic before settling on the latter.

“Well? Why are you shouting up the forest while some of us are on important business?”

UrGoh realized his mouth was hanging open.

"...Mother... Aughra,” he said. “You’re… awake.”

“Yes, awake and needing to know what’s going on beneath the stars rather than through them,” the old woman replied. “And you can start by telling Aughra…”

She stopped, turning to eye skekGra and then back to urGoh.

“What disaster has befallen Thra that a Skeksis would consult with a Mystic once again?”

#skekgra #urgoh #urva #the dark crystal #the dark crystal age of resistance #aughra #ursu #skekmal #ursol #fanfic #my writing #my art #for unity #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA SORRY THIS TOOK AGES TO POST #2020 was ... a year

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