Humans indeed – and terrified ones, at that. They were screaming in raw terror, as if they were animals of prey, stalked by predators I’d not yet seen.
I squint through the portal and see the root of their terror.
They have reason to flee.
Scorp.
Here on our jungle world, Scorp warriors live and breed as they do across the universe. Yet here, they live deep underground in a seemingly endless networks of caves and tunnels that form their nests. They’ve learned now not to come near the jungle home of our tribe, but they are a constant and ever-present threat beyond the borders of our enclave.
Yet every decade or so, a fresh infestation of Scorp warriors descends from the sky; plummeting to the earth in their disgusting egg sacs; the huge, organic vessels that hold a hundred or so of the disgusting beasts, and one ferocious Queen.
These new arrivals know nothing of life here on our planet – and have not learned to give our tribe a wide berth. As such, when the Scorp fall from the sky, every man and child of fighting age grab their weapons. All differences are put aside in our desperate fight for survival against these cruel beasts.
It’s a threat that creates alliances beyond just our own tribal borders. Northern mountain men will fight alongside us Scorp-Blooded warriors, and the southern tribes will volunteer their lethal volleys of arrows to stop the hordes.
But even as I know the deep visceral horror of seeing a Scorp egg sac falling from the sky, my experience pales in comparison to what I’m witnessing now.
Through the portal, I see that many Scorp egg sacks are falling from the sky. Not just one, or two – but dozens of them. There’ll be more Scorp Warriors pouring out into this distant world than I’d thought – and certainly hoped – I’d see in a lifetime.
Through the portal I witness humans running, screaming, and I even feel vibrations through the rift; as massive projectiles that look like an avalanche of boulders are somehow shot into the air; as if from the world’s most powerful bow.
Yet despite these humans’ ferocious weaponry, I know it will not be enough. They’re doomed.
“Wait! It is a trap!” One of my battle brothers yells out, and I can’t tell if it is Darok or Hadone. The words barely register as I step forward, feeling my spirits rising in battle lust.
I’m going to stride through this portal. After all, this is how I was meant to fight – in the open air, with the sun on my back as I battle against insurmountable odds. My hands grip the hilts of my Orb-Daggers. Every tattoo I’ve earned in honorable battle gleams in the light of this alien sun, as I launch myself through the portal and take a step towards my destiny.
I have no fear. No doubt. The Orb-God has seen fit to grant us the chance to prove ourselves in battle – and if I die, I’ll at least die under the hot sun, not beneath the cold ground.
“We must go! Our God is giving us a great chance to test ourselves in glorious battle!” My voice rings with complete conviction.
If this is some trick or trap, then I gladly accept my death. I will not lose this chance to fight for my mate.
3
Hadone
Where Forn leads, I follow.
It’s been this way since I once stole honey-fruit from the tribe and he took the beating for it. I can see the horrors through the portal, but he doesn’t flinch. Forn strides confidently through the portal – straight into the hellscape beyond – and I detect no hint of fear in his aura.
I feel that same certainty. I can’t stop myself from grinning at the sight of oncoming war. Death has called to me since the tragedy of the fish-eating triad’s mate, Ginger. I don’t deserve breathe and life for what I did to her. I deserve to die in violent battle – and so I embrace every opportunity I get to do so.
Our Orb-God opens portals to many strange planets for worthy triads to find their human mates – but only after they have offered a suitable sacrifice.
I’ve never seen nor heard of a portal like this, opening in the middle of nowhere and seemingly for no reason. That much is disquieting. Our customs are rooted in tradition – and deviation from that tradition is suspicious.
According to the lore, a triad must kill a great beast to prove themselves worthy of the Orb-God. Those that survive the battle return with the head of the conquered beast; to offer it as sacrifice to the huge, pulsating Orb-God that dwells deep within our ancestral cavern home. Only then will our God open a portal to another world for them. The portal may open directly in front, or out in the plains, but it would never randomly appear in front of an unworthy triad.
It’s unheard of for a portal to open without that sacrifice – without a triad having proven themselves deserving first.
That would be enough to make me suspicious – but what lays beyond the portal is equally unsettling.
I stare past Forn in horrified awe at the strange landscape that lays before me.
There is a magic in this place – and something throwing massive, flaming arrows into the sky that burst into fire and smoke when they hit one of the descending Scorp egg sacs.
“This will be a fight that goes down in the histories forever,” I telepath to my triad as I grab the hilt of my war-hammer, feeling the familiar grooves along the handle of my powerful Orb-weapon.
Until I activate the blade, my weapon looks like a simple, thick, fire-tempered stick. Yet I merely have to telepath my need to have the weapon, and it activates the Orb-power within and the huge head of the weapon shimmers into humming reality, seemingly from nowhere. The blue-black, double-headed, otherworldly form of the war-hammer has
