Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ When Escaflowne Rescued Trilladen ❯ Mugwa's Plan ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter Nine: Mugwa's Plan

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Mugwa was handsome once. Twenty years ago he was tall and robust and well liked. His hair was chestnut brown and thick and wavy. His brown eyes glittered with gold flecks and humor. His nose was straight and aquiline: his mouth full and sensual, with a fuller lower lip that promised secret pleasures if one stared too long at it. His facial features were gorgeously symmetrical and his demeanor charming once.

Now he was thin and bent over from years of laboring over ancient scrolls of wisdom and knowledge. He was feared though he was frail looking with a jaundiced pallor to his skin. His face once inspired lust in women, now gaunt with high cheekbones that protruded sickeningly like welts under his drooping eyes. Years of concocting illegal and dark magic from ancient scrolls had turned his soul from the beautiful myriad of colors each of us possess into a dark cold place that no one would wish to witness.

Today he was in foul temper. His griffin had failed to kidnap Prince Edward. He knew of the boy's escape and was furious with the royal family for their lack of support in his plan. He hadn't persuaded them of the necessity of it. He despised them and wanted their destruction, but only time would take care of that. After he had learned of the Prince's escape, he took appropriate measures to insure that no one else in the royal family would flee.

Years ago he had unlocked the secrets of the forbidden scrolls and unwisely shared them with two outsiders from beyond the vast violent waters. Together the three had learned to create the Prognosticator device that foretold events of the future. Years later Mugwa had discovered how to use this device and Trilladen's time traveler machine to manipulate energyst powers, as well as to block them altogether. Through years of practice and experimenting he had become so sensitized to the Prognosticator and the traveler's pulsation's of energy bursts and tremors, that he no longer needed spies to watch the royal family. He could sense when they used of their energyst pendants.

He was smart enough not to block their activity. After all, he really didn't need to since he could sense their comings and goings from the energyst pendants and the tell tale surge of power that Mugwa felt go through it. But when Prince Edward escaped to the barbaric regions beyond the vast waters of violence, that all changed. Mugwa knew the cursed boy had fled not to save his own skin, but to stop Mugwa from his plan. Two years ago Mugwa had been forced to kill one of his priests who had betrayed him. He remembered with satisfaction that day's events...

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"Confess your sins, my child, and you will be spared a painful death."

A ravenous griffin pranced back and forth just in front of Yokeem. It was a huge golden lion with scaly dragon like wings. A very loose tether was wrapped around its massive neck. It was the only thing keeping the hideous creature from ripping Yokeem's flesh from his bones.

A red robed guard suddenly punched Yokeem in the abdomen. Yokeem coughed up blood and bile, arousing the griffin's senses. It raised itself up on its hind legs as its front legs clawed at the air inches away from Yokeem's body. Its scaly wings began to beat rhythmically to keep it erect. The massive feline jaws opened up to reveal fangs as long as a man's foot. Yokeem's nostrils were awash with the griffin's acrid breath causing him to dry heave.

Still the valiant young priest remained silent.

Mugwa's subtle movement of hand caused the tether to loosen up and the griffin was able to reach Yokeem. Sniffing loudly as its mouth drew nearer to Yokeem's face the lion licked Yokeem's right cheek with his razor sharp stubble surfaced tongue flaying the facial skin off with a raw bloody sweep. Mugwa reigned in the slack of the tether as Yokeem wailed in agony, but still did not confess.

Mugwa already knew of the priest's transgression. Yokeem had alerted the royal family of Mugwa's ambition to awaken the green dragon. Mugwa just wanted the pleasure of witnessing Yokeem's self-realization of his own weakness as a man by confessing his noble deed, thus taking away the young priest's sense of his own integrity. To watch a righteous man falter and stray was now Mugwa's favorite form of entertainment. To see a man be broken by pain and torture and depart from his own convictions to die in self-loathing was highly amusing to Mugwa.

Yokeem felt fresh pain as the salt of his tears cascaded down his raw flesh, making him whimper. This gave Mugwa a new idea. "Gogan, bring me salt. Griffins like their meat seasoned too." The red robed guard left Mugwa's private chamber to carry out his order.

"Really, you don't have to suffer any longer. Just tell me what you told the king." Mugwa cajoled. The only sounds that came forth out of Yokeem were his groans. Mugwa again allowed the griffin to taste its meal. Going back to the same wound where the blood dripped freely from Yokeem's face, the griffin's tongue licked him again removing a small portion of facial muscle clear to the cheek bone.

Yokeem's screams filled the chamber causing Mugwa to snigger in delight. Mugwa again reigned in the slack of the tether causing the griffin to retreat as Gogan entered the chamber with a wooden bowl full of salt. Gogan's red robe hung heavily around his face and successfully cloaked his true feelings for the scene. He found Mugwa's countenance to be utterly repulsive, but he was too skilled in surviving to reveal his sentiments.

Mugwa nodded in Gogan's direction. He knew what to do. He took the prisoner and raised both of his hands high into the air. He tied each wrist to the iron posts jutting out of vertical slots in the wall above Yokeem's head. Gogan walked over to the pulley and the posts were raised high enough in their slots so that Yokeem's feet no longer touched the ground. Then he took the other end of the tether to the griffin that dangled down from Mugwa's hand and lay in circles on the floor. He wrapped it around Yokeem's neck and tied tightly, yet loose enough to allow precious little air to wheeze through Yokeem's throat.

"Yokeem, you have betrayed me. I should have realized you would. You are just like your mother. She was a beautiful woman, but stupid. I had hoped that you would follow in my footsteps, but you are stupid too, just like her. I took great pleasure in her body, both when she was alive and when she was dying. You should have listened to me, your father, instead of your stupid whore of a mother."

Mugwa took a hand full of salt from the bowl in his hand and slapped the young priest's face where his gaping wound bled copiously. Yokeem screamed in anguish and rage as much for his mother as himself. She had been a kind and gentle woman, devout in the old ways of the ancient religion brought out of Atlantis. Her fervor had at one time attracted Mugwa. Later her faith caused him to wish her death as it proved only to mirror his ongoing corruption and lust for power. She was as good as he was evil and he despised her for being so simple.

Yokeem shed tears of abandonment. His heart was broken. His father never loved him. He may have harbored ambition for Yokeem, but he never truly loved anyone. Yokeem wanted to die rather that feel the pain. The emotional pain was far more intense than the physical pain. He had always wanted to gain his father's approval, even so far as to join the priesthood. Now he was going to die for his convictions to the old ways, not Mugwa's new ways.

Mugwa grew tired of the reticent Yokeem and allowed the griffin to freely lick his victim. Yokeem tried to scream, but was unable to. His chest was constricted, and his lungs couldn't fill up with enough air to do so. The inevitable feeling of panic of suffocation began to play out in Yokeem's facial expressions. Growing purple faced and urgent, Yokeem's eyes bulged out in supreme suffering of mind, body, heart and spirit.

Mugwa watched with intense fascination as his son's life withered away in agony, his loins pulsing with a perverse arousal. After all, Yokeem sprouted from them, and now like a tender reed reaching for the sun, this sprout would be immersed in a river of tears before drowning in them.

It was ecstasy sweet and hot.

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"His Holiness?" Gogan softly interrupted Mugwa's reverie.

"What is it now?" Mugwa snapped back.

"You are needed at the temple today. Remember?

"It's the Holy Feast of Translation. The royal family and all of the priests and their families are assembled at the temple awaiting you to commence with the ceremony."

Mugwa sighed peevishly and got up to begin his duties. With so much to do before Prince Edward returns with his defenders, I must be torn away by these mundane matters! Simpletons and pious hypocrites! They would cower at my feet if they knew what I could do to this island-what I am going to do to it very soon! I will drink the blood of a virgin princess from the Mystic Moon and you will bow to me as I return to the Mystic Moon to rule all of you!

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