He was gone. He knew it the minute Ovek's voice laced his own. He could feel the power of the God of Chaos, coursing through his veins. Filling him with unfathomable power. Ishar didn't want this, he knew what would happen if he plunged off the edge of madness and into its depths.
No, Ovek, please! But the God wasn't fueled by reason, strands of thought held very little sway on Ovek, no, the heart spoke its desires and interpretation stemmed from there. His heart was in agony, the Kolotians had turned on him, now the Hundred surrounded him, fists rising and falling. Taking him further away, his consciousness being blanketed a thousand times over by putrid rage. And from this rage a flicker of comfort, a place he could be submerged, the well of madness.
"But you are my people!" His words carried with them a force that checked all those who aimed to subdue him. He cried out then, the agony leaving him and his hands shook, he felt it then, like a lover's push to the small of his back. And he was falling.
A Kolotian with all ten fingers in tow with muscle that made his neck bulge, lunged at Ishar, the Champion of Chaos lifted a leg impossibly high and brought it into a sweep right at the face of the Kolotian. The man's head exploded in a mist of blood, bone flew out to patter at tents and his headless body collapsed.
Thegir stopped and turned around to face Ishar. Those who'd been ordered to beat him took retreating steps back. He wanted them to come at him, to fling themselves at him. To beat him as they'd been instructed to. He wanted the thrill of combat, where no rules apply and the stake is one's own life. A Kolotian made to tackle him from behind, Ishar spun, gripped the man with two fingers hooked under the chin, he pulled with his spin and the man's jaw came off. The Kolotian took three steps past Ishar, the lower half of his face a messy ruin that squrited blood. Then he collapsed.
"Thegir!" Ishar screamed.
"Protect your Chief!" A Kolotian roared and the crowd of Kolotians moved to encompass Thegir, the man just stood there, mouth gaping, limbs trembling. Before Thegir could be hidden from his sight, Ishar threw the dismembered jaw that was in his grip. It spun with impossible speed and embedded itself below Thegir's collar. The Chief squealed like a dying rabbit. Ishar knew the wound wasn't fatal but his deeds left no doubt to the testament of the Water Seekers. Observing the two Kolotians of the Hundred, and Thegir's screams. The Kolotians became aware of what Ishar was.
But the feeling within him was immense. He needed to move, his hands needed to crush, smash and desecrate. Blood, he hadn't spilled enough blood. He needed more, he needed—
He heard it then, the crying of a child. He looked to his right and saw children, huddled together. Gripping each other. He'd never seen Kolotian children, this was his first time. The whites of their eyes were so clear. Not muddied by time and pain. Not like his. He was scaring them. What was he doing?
The remaining Hundred gave up accousting him, instead they moved to surround Thegir amidst the Kolotians. They'd grabbed crude looking weapons, spears made of sharpened sticks and rocks and pointed them at him.
Ishar knew his eyes no longer glowed amber. He looked at his bloody hands and heard Thegir's cry as they dislodged the dismembered jaw from where it had embedded itself. The Kolotians kept a clear distance of him, and it was poetic. In a sense, the arrangement of the Colony about what they cared about most, Thegir. While he, the one who'd come to liberate them was given a wide berth.
Have I failed? The grand procession he'd envisioned, was it but a mere fantasy? Was everything a fantasy? And he clutched his thoughts to himself lest they unwind and rendered him incapable of having a sense of self. It was times like these when he wondered whether meeting Ovek all those days ago in the forest was a good thing.
Madness is for the few. Why did the multitudes value normalcy above all else? Why are those who stand out suppressed instead of encouraged?
They are my people. Yet here he stood alone, all of them rallying to their oppressor rather than side with their liberator.
Suddenly a man burst through from a direction different from where Ishar had come into the Colony from. He was dressed in brown rags that were wrapped about him to conceal his skin and give him the likeness of the desert floor. Ishar upon inspection realized that the man had come from a crevace stretched upon a part of the dome's ceiling. He looked unaware of what was going on hence why he stood so close to Ishar.
"The Hundred to gather!" The man cried out, showing only brief puzzlement over what was going on.
Thegir suddenly spoke up from where he was amidst the bodies of Kolotians who acted as a barricade between him and Ishar. "What is it Usufu? What have you seen urgh—" He groaned and rubbed at his wound.
The man who'd just arrived struggled to speak, opening and closing his mouth behind the folds of brown cloth wrapped around his face. "Speak up damn it!" Thegir screamed.
"Chief, sir," He gathered what wits he had about him and delved into the matter with one sure leap. "I saw Binorian Hunters, they were thousands, sir, thousands. And also a Telinete Rhino with someone with white hair on it, they were chasing the Rhino, sir, the Binorians are after it and it is heading in this direction."
Ishar smiled. Finally, there was a brief respite from all the turmoil. Finally he would no longer be sinking to the depths for there was dry ground. Niada. She was coming.
The Kolotians all started asking the newcomer questions, wails of lament started anew. His people did not share his joy at the news.
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