Page Seven

 

-->

The formidable Quanpo is the issarian agent of death, pestilence, and decay to every cowering mortal and the demi-issars. He’s an unattractive, leather-skin beast dreaded by mortals and venerated by the issars due to the nature of his gritty, cumbersome, and lonely eternal operation. Death was once an unruly enterprise where the freshly departed would cling to their former abodes and attach themselves to any number of cherished possessions. This was the legacy of the dead until Quanpo, in tandem with Gwenliba, established a realm for those wandering spirits competing with the living. Quanpo resides in that same compartmentalized nether world called Assinstag, considered an inferior realm much like Niseka’s precious Dentenstagem. The great Quanpo arrived in Quakordum clad in a sterling cloak whose angular hood looms over his shoulders, his face and its contorted, inhuman features guarded from view by a metallic mask. Niseka and Quanpo have been comrades for centuries now, Niseka often seeking the informed Quanpo’s counsel and subjecting him to his trifling personal grief. He also exploits Quanpo’s talents as an accomplished artisan, begging Quanpo for more new and unusual creations. Quanpo usually complies- the act of crafting taking his mind off other woes- and has crafted many splendid treasures for Niseka: such as every one of his weapons, armor adorned with Nipercarian symbols, durable/gemstone laden furniture, and even the unique doors on display in Niseka’s chambers. This evening, Quanpo patiently waits for the issar’s appearance, eager to exchange words with his estrange comrade. The last dispute that prefaced their fallout left Quanpo seething over Niseka’s poor, irrational judgment. Several months later, Quanpo has finally made a return visit on less than amicable grounds, Quanpo still critical over Niseka’s proposed feat. Niseka arrives and calls out to him from a loft above the pavilion, yet Quanpo cares little for revelry and coldly turns to face him. Niseka is shaken by his silence, which causes him to readjust his gait and pace himself.  He liberally bows in hopes to flatter the shadowy issar,

“Welcome, Quanpo in all your foreboding prudence. Your malevolent presence has been missed, with its generous gnawing away at my kingdom’s radiance. This is an unexpected occurrence that will go down in my personal annuls. Alas, I was worried that you harbor negative feelings towards me; you’ve avoided me like some enemy lately. How was I to suspect your dismay over such a simple, benign request? I’m at a complete lost for words, burdened by a heartfelt perplexity.” When Quanpo speaks, his voice rattles like metal grating over itself, ghostly vapors escaping from his voice plate.

“You’re not the only mystified issar here.” Quanpo slowly sucks some cold air into his pipes, releasing it like a phantom out of a grave, “I wondered if that was his presence I felt. You actually went through with it, didn’t you?” Quanpo questions, “I certainly hope you understand the gravity of your actions and the repercussions should your crime be discovered.” This criticism adds to Niseka’s surmounting frustration as he juts his chin out and bemoans,

“Again, Quanpo! You still question my ability to thoroughly discern my predicament. Decantar and you, both! Such limited aspirations from two uncreative, inexpressive totems. What did you think, after nearly two centuries of diligence I’d give it all up on a whim? Maybe, you thought this was some quixotic ruse to rattle the nerves of some cantankerous, elitist issari.”  Niseka continues his lament as he props himself on a pillar, “All this lack of faith in me! All this nay saying, head butting, zeal sucking, and precautionary story telling! It’s getting terribly depressing.” Quanpo interjects in a voice that vibrates the pavilion,

“Harness your tongue, Niseka and quench your anger. I did not come all this way to argue with you. ” The pounding sends waves down his walls that stir Niseka to recover from his incensed composure and simmer his frustration. He lowers his voice and stares humbly at Quanpo, saying in reverence,

“My apologies, Quanpo. You simply have no idea. The final stint of this sorrowful journey has been grueling for me. Could it be that I freed a corpse from the grave, and not a boy merely asleep? I’m angry, Quanpo, at the heavenly issars who authorized VerNous’ suffering. But I am saddened by my own shortcomings. Did I take to long? Did I overestimate my powers and comprehension? He’s terribly close to death, and I don’t know if I could withstand the agony if he…” Niseka hesitates, “succumbs a mere breath away from my embrace.” Quanpo is quiet at first, but soon decides it’s time to reveal why such a late visitation.

“Niseka, I came all this way with a purpose. At first, yes, I thought your quest foolish, perilous, and most of all, unfeasible. Yet, you have done the seemingly impossible against the better judgment of your closes allies. So, to show the faith, with a great helping of pity, I have considering your plight, I come before you with a gift to dwarf all my previous creations.” Niseka peers at him in confusion, but then recollects the favor he had asked from Quanpo during that hostile meeting. Quanpo talks in a stern, deadpan pitch, but his true loyalty came in the form of a case hidden beneath his cloak. This reminder makes Niseka eager over the gift as he places his attention to the delivery Quanpo reveals. Niseka stutters,

“Certainly, you...you didn’t? I don’t believe it. Those are not what I think they are. Oh, don’t make me wait any longer, let me see them!” Quanpo nods and slowly opens the case, this unhurried spread of the lid making Niseka’s heart beat rapidly. A shaft of light hits the reflected surface of the object, making his soul reverberate in elation. The shiny veneer reflects white specks all over Niseka’s face and the case’s suede finish.  In a voice full of gratitude he proclaims,

“Striking! Perfection! Your most astounding creation by far! Oh Quanpo, the amount of which I am indebted to you is inconceivable. Such loyalty. Such magnanimity.” He kneels in awe and lifts his hand out to touch one, but before he can, Quanpo slams the case. The moody issar has only one reminder before handing him the case,

“Before I leave, let me say one last thing, Grand Issara Niseka Neblum.  Just in case some issari on high comes prodding your recollection- remember- I never saw anything, I never knew anything, and never was I involved. Do we have an understanding?”

“ From the earnest part of my being, you have my word, Quanpo, loyal, dear friend.” The friend title does not stir Quanpo in the least and he leaves via an electric dust cloud that billows out then collapses into the air. Once the smoke has cleared, Niseka sees the case resting on the floor. Picking up the case and staring out to the horizon, he slyly comments to himself,

“Always the same; poof! Not one goodbye.”