Determined to posses the bones that give power, I had come a long way. I crossed the black sea and the forest of snakes, killed the great dragon, protector of gods, and made it through the valley of scorpions. I, Lisbon, absorbed into me, the thunder bolts of Zanga, and also killed Zenga, brother of Naárka, the demigod who tried to stop me.
Finally, here I stood, awed, right before the vast golden tombstone of Kalsgan.
That which I sought after for ages lay just twenty steps away from me. Emboldened by my previous accomplishments, I approached it fiercely, just like I had always seen myself do in dreams, my iron sword clenched between my right fingers, and a shield in my left hand.
Suddenly as I got close enough, Earth shook.
“Who are you!?”
A voice from the depths thundered. It belonged to an unnerving dark demon who was beginning to rise from underneath the earth. The sight of this terrible thing infused anxiety into the core of my being. I could see around him as he levitated, a thick aura of darkness, glittering embers, dust devils of thick gloomy sulfur, small sparks of electricity, and formless moving shadows.
As he rose, loud sounds similar to those from moving helicopters rose with him. Knitted between these sounds were the screams of several thousands of humans. These ear-splitting noises increased in intensity abruptly, forcing me to drop my weapons, and press with all might, my fingers against my ears. For the umpteenth time on this quest, I met terror.
The creature, was now suspended in the air, almost nine meters above my head. With my hands still glued to my ears, I looked up, trying really hard to see the face of him who dared question me.
He had no face, just a circle of dark gases bearing red lights that looked like eyes, and a mouth that spat fire. On his chest, I noticed a shiny red inscription, ‘Taàrcos’.
I could see nothing from his chest down, just darkness, and formlessness.
“Who are you?”
He spoke again, addressing me with so much disdain.
Anger welled up inside me, killing all fear that dwelled there.
“Who dares stand between I and my dreams”?
I, Lisbon, slayer of gods raised my voice and answered this demon boldly.
“I am the god God calls his son. And you, Taàrcos, should scurry now before he comes after you. I do not seek trouble, I only seek the bones of the one the sons of men call Kalsgan. ”
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