“What are you doing up there?”
Letharus rolled his eyes as he moved away from the console and the sheets of jet black paper. Scrawled on them were long strings of numbers, as well as code words, noting down what he had seen on the various scanners.
“My job, Rethanius!” Letharus snarled, answering without speaking. Letharus hadn’t actually spoken in years, ever since his transformation into a Voidborn Thoulus. He wasn’t born by the Void, but he had certainly been moulded by it, by his master, Lord Theocydes. “Perhaps I should question your own actions?”
Rethanius seemed nothing but amused by Letharus’s anger. Both he and Letharus were the first of Lord Theocydes’s Thoulii, and they were both by far the longest lasting and the most loyal. Only the Lord’s own Fleshborn was more loyal, although that was not necessarily out of choice.
“Our Void Lord requests our presence. Might be worth putting away your predictions and scribbles and joining me in the throne room.”
With another eye roll, Letharus got up and climbed down the skinny ladder, to where Rethanius was standing. Rethanius then led him down the main, gold-plated hallway, all the way to the central throne room. Along the way, various other Thoulii could be seen, doing their basic maintenance jobs. Unlike the First though, all the other Thoulii that the Void Lord had created were mostly autonomous slaves, despite having originally been sapient beings.
While the hallways and corridors of Lord Theocydes’s ship were rather luxurious and golden, the throne room was a completely different story. A combination of ornate, golden pillars, gold-leafed furniture and beautiful, shimmering crystals embedded in pretty much everything. It was a throne room fit for a deity. Which Lord Theocydes pretty much was. The only thing out of place in the colossal chamber was a small, dirty corner, laced with chains, where the Void Lord’s Fleshborn sat, vacantly cleaning his wounds after yet another beating.
Sitting in his throne, ignoring the Fleshborn, was Lord Theocydes himself.
“You have arrived. Slowly, mind you.”
Letharus and Rethanius both bowed.
“I apologise, High Lord, I was studying a signal I picked up!” Letharus immediately answered, knowing he should not lie or hesitate.
“The Mortemnan signal, I assume?” Theocydes grunted underneath gold, intricate plating. Just like everything else on the ship, the Void Lord was also plated in gold. “Yes, I am aware of it. It seems as though several members of Deathven may be approaching our sphere of influence. Quite curious, as this Void of ours is rather… shielded and unremarkable to outsiders.”
“Do you want us to unleash Kallus on them? Get them good and dead nice and quick?” Rethanius asked. “Better not to have any trouble out here, lest we interrupt your great experiments!”
Theocydes mulled over Rethanius’s suggestion, then glanced at his Fleshborn in the corner, who had looked up, upon hearing his name.
“Hm. No. That would be too easy. And rather boring. These Deathvenian beings may prove to be interesting or useful…” The Void Lord trailed off, lost in thought. “Letharus, instead, I want you to track them. See where the signals originated from, glean what information you can and keep on top of their positions. They may just be passing through, and it is not worth drawing the ire of Deathven Overall for just a few misaligned miscreants.”
Letharus bowed again. “Do you want me to start now, Master?”
The Void Lord smiled, shaking his antlered head. “Oh no. I have a duty for you both first. We are long overdue a cull, and Kallus is in need of feeding.”
Rethanius grinned. Letharus frowned.
“How many this time, my Lord?”
“Just one. The worst performing Thoulos. We do not want to spoil Kallus. Especially if we may be feeding him Deathvenian flesh later on…”
Rethanius clapped his hands together, then headed for the dirty corner, where Kallus was waiting. “No worries, boss. We will sort everything out, right, you two?”
Letharus sighed as he watched Rethanius slap Kallus across his toothy face, then headed over to Rethanius’s side, to assist in untying the armour-plated being.
“Of course…” Letharus grunted. “Of course…”