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The Devouring of S'lithik Hhai
by John Fultz

The kingdom of the lizard-men of S'lithik Hhai existed before the dawn of man, but few know of its exact demise. Tsathoggua and Zothoqqua exact a deadly vengeance on those who harm their minions in this new tale by John Fultz.


Much has been written regarding the legendary race of serpent-men who ruled the primeval world before mankind’s rise to preeminence among the earthly species. Deeply versed in the arts of eldritch science, alchemy and sorcery, these reptilian savants were the undisputed masters of all the lands beneath the youthful sun. Yet never has a truthful account of the wicked race’s decline and extinction been chronicled. Until now.
    Most erudite sages will speak of Man's early mastery of the arts of warfare, and dote upon the savagery of our noble ancestors as they put these serpent-folk to the sword and cleansed our continents of the venomous, dominating presence. There are aged scholars, too, who claim the breed of walking serpents did bring about their own doom, by the practicing of uncouth sorceries and alchemies which unleashed dread powers that even their genius mentalities could not fully master . And still other learned historians will relate how the shifting of the great sun robbed the serpent race of the heated atmosphere necessary to their kind, as continental jungles dried and became fertile plains or cooling tundras.
    None of these varied ruminations speak with veracity of the serpent race's downfall. Here now I shall inscribe the ancient truth upon these tablets of durable gorra-stone, to preserve for coming generations the origin of mankind's rise to greatness.
    Wide and far-reaching was the scaled grasp of the serpent-race’s power, slithering out across the young world from its black heart in the bubbling fens of the primordial Hyperborean continent. The seat of their great, swampy kingdom was named S'lithik Hhai, a collection of serpentine towers whose pinnacles rose to heights beyond the cloying clouds, into the uppermost air of the world, where unknown beasts out of the starry void sometimes alighted on fluted spires, gazing down upon the massive works of those who dwelled below.
    There was among the highest ranks of the serpent-folk, who called themselves the Hith, a most respected and honored alchemist known as X’hyl the Wise. X’hyl was master of a sky-stabbing tower in the midst of the capitol city, where his breweries and distilling vats produced many of the poisonous draughts enjoyed by the Hith as fashionable intoxicants during their feasting and revelry. Thus, the esteemed alchemist and his cadre of apprentices often made popular entrances into the court of the ancient Serpent King, bearing with them casks of delicious, venomous vintages freshly concocted for the royal court’s enjoyment.
    Oftimes the reptile king’s celebrations began with philosophic discussion regarding the nature of Hithian existence, moving on to scientific or sorcerous principles. When the ruby-crowned monarch tired of such discourse, various conjured demons would be brought forth to rant and caper before the tall throne, supplying an arcane entertainment for the languid nobles of S’lithik Hhai. Following the delights of demonic dancing and infernal soliloquies, the royal chamber would play host to a great feast.
    The feasting of the Hith was not an altogether wholesome thing for the warm-blooded to contemplate, for the serpent-folk’s custom was to devour their sustenance while it yet remained alive. To enjoy the struggling of one’s chosen meal as it was swallowed and drawn slowly into the expanding stomach was essential to pleasurable dining. Once engulfed in the gullet of a Hith, the prey would die slowly as the the digestive process began. For many hours lasted the grand feasts of the Serpent King, bloated nobles lying about the pillared hall enjoying the subtle feel of their dissolving provender, until their elastic frames returned once more to singular slimness.
    Prey which screamed heartily as it was devoured was especially prized by the serpent-folk. Such a food source had they discovered among the fertile mountains of the East: a smallish race of thin-furred humanoids, akin to the ape though walking upright, and possessed of rudimentary intelligence. Against the hunters of Hith the timid cave-dwellers had fought, until it became evident that their stone-fashioned spears and flint axes were of no use against the horrible demons which served the serpent-men. They had taken to hiding in the deepest of their caverns to escape capture by their reptilian overlords. Yet little could save them from the nets and sorceries of the advanced and supreme Hith. Always the Hith returned, having discovered a marvelous source of delicacy, and always they carried squirming groups of live captives back to their terrible city to await a hideous doom in the king’s banquet chamber.
    On a certain night of feasting in the royal court, X’hyl the Wise took notice of a new sound among the fervent screams of the little bipeds, as they were lazily devoured among the glistening marble walls of the king’s hall. No sign of intelligible language had been observed in the soft-furred mammals thus far, but the keen mind of X’hyl took note of many things which others of his kind did not. A word, it seemed, now became clear to him amidst the keening wails of the ape-things, repeated again and again by various of the tasty morsels. A mental note he made of the discovery, and finished the sumptuous repast in a contented torpor.
    Perhaps the alchemist would have forgotten his recognition of the cave-dwellers’ language skill, if he had not heard again the same strange word issuing from the mouths of the helpless creatures at the next royal feast. There remained no doubt in the formidable mind of X’hyl that these little beasts possessed some sort of primitive tongue, a crude language which had seemingly evolved in the space of less than a single generation. For many long years had the Hith been dining upon the mammalians, and this evidence of language was a new thing. Always now, while being lazily devoured, the creatures screamed that same word which had first caught X’hyl’s attention, some chanting it repeatedly like an infantile incantation.
    "Zothoqqua!" spoke the dying bipeds, almost pleadingly, as if in supplication. "Zothoqqua!"
    As to the nature of meaning in the cave-dwellers’ chant, X’hyl could assign none, though he could not ignore the mystery posed by the presence of such chanting. Before long he took audience with the Serpent King.
    Informing the dark-eyed monarch of his discovery, the well-spoken X’hyl did beseech a cadre of guards and sorcerers for an expedition into the mountainous eastern jungles. "We must seek to document this swift development of thought and language processes in the lower species." said the alchemist. "Not only to avail ourselves the knowledge of primitive cognitive development, but to insure that no unnatural forces have interfered in the cave-dwellers’ evolution. For such an intrusion into the natural order of things might speak of a cosmic threat which seeks to undermine the status of we Hith as the most highly-developed race of our world. I submit to you, Great Lord, that the fate of our glorious kingdom depends on such an inquiry into this unexpected phenomenon."
    Because of his noble standing with the King and his esteemed reputation as heirophant of Hithian thinkers, X’hyl’s request was granted; on the condition that the expedition return with one hundred fresh specimens for the King’s larder. "Go forth, Wise X’hyl," hissed the regal Lord of Serpents, "and take with you a legion of our finest soldiers. Too, shall they accompany you who are greatest in the arts of wizardry, and twenty demon thralls shall guide thy path. So shall I entrust within you authority and responsibility to rid the kingdom of any threat which your fine mind should discern, be it terrestrial or otherworldy in nature. Go forth with the grace of Holy Yig upon thy noble head. "
    So it was that with the rising of the next sun, X’hyl and his honored procession set out, serpent banners flying atop raised Hithian lances, and a mass of crimson-hued demons tearing apart the jungle growth to make way for the expedition’s passing. Leaving behind the lofty black towers of S’lithik Hhai, the Hithians moved slowly eastward, crossing vast leagues of primeval swamplands thick with primordial ooze. Among the towering vegetation of prehistoric wilderness they traveled, and over steaming ranges of volcanic residue which would one day play host to undreamt-of nations and empires.
    In time they arrived at the tall, lush mountains wherein lay the warrens of the little mammalian race. Among the soldiers were many experienced hunters of such game, and soon a network of cavern entrances was discovered on a thickly forested mountainside overlooking a great heated waterfall which filled the deep ravine below with mist and thunder. X’hyl, flanked by two hulking demon guards, led the way into the lower warren caverns, traveling ever-deeper into the uncomfortable coolness of the sunless region. The greater majority of the Hithian soldiers had remained on guard at the entrance to the underground realm, with orders for the capture of any cave-dwellers who happened upon them. It was the King’s fodder which would pay for this mission, and one hundred captives had X’hyl promised.
    By the light of sorcerous flames the Hithians explored the mammalian environs, searching always for sign or spoor of the cave-dwellers. Yet it seemed that constant raiding of the furred race’s home had driven them ever-deeper into the bowels of the earth, where the heat preferred by serpent-folk returned, arising from the molten depths of the planet itself. At last, evidence of habitation was found: guano, bones, rude stone implements and tools, though still no sign of living creatures. It was the strange sound of a deep chanting which eventually drew the Hithians toward their prey.
    A mass of synchronous voices grew in volume as X’hyl led the scaly questors onward. Emerging at last on a narrow shelf of basalt above a deep-floored cavern, the Hithians observed in its firelit depths the objects of their long search. Thousands of the cave-dwellers writhed and chanted in unison before a great stone idol, whose massive bulk rose almost to the height of the vaulted dome. Like the shape of a great, bloated toad was the vast eidolon before which they prostrated themselves in feverish adoration. Its great, heavy-lidded eyes were boulder-sized lumps of gleaming ebony, and its ears were long and pointed. A great fanged maw stretched nearly from shoulder to shoulder below its cavernous nostrils. Fascinated by the monolithic creation, X’hyl could only watch in bewilderment as the lowly race worshipped their abominable god.
    One there was who stood closest to the great idol, his apish face hidden behind a fanged skull mask trimmed by a mass of gaudy feathers. A tiny infant of his own kind he held above his head, mewling and wailing among the reverberating chant whose powerful timbre caused the stony ground to tremble. And X’hyl recognized the manner of their chant, and knew now the name of their dark god.
    "Zothoqqua! Zothoqqua! Zothoqqua!" cried the dancing worshippers. Without warning, the masked one dashed the tender infant against the monolith’s toad-like foot, where the red stains of previous sacrifices spoke of long and dire ceremonies. The little corpse was then thrown into the midst of the writhing mob, who tore it apart with bare fingers, devouring madly the unripe flesh of their own murdered offspring.
    "Sacred scales of Yig!" declared the amazed alchemist. "Such detestable sacrilege cannot be tolerated!" He waved a taloned hand and the vanguard of twenty terrible demons descended upon the senseless worshippers, cutting through their midst as a fierce wind through gentle palms, trampling to grist beneath their clawed feet the frenzied mammalian throng. As the little race met with horrible slaughter beneath the claws of the grinning demons their trance was rudely broken, and they began to scatter, fleeing into crevices and tunnels too small for the great demons to follow. Yet the dancing shaman near the idol remained lost in his alien incantation until the Hithian sorcerers cast bolts of baleful flame against the massive toad-like idol, and its great pieces smashed down upon its last worshiper in a smoking heap of blasted stone.
    When the slaughter had ended, the demons lapping up the fresh blood shed in their gleeful fury, X’hyl commanded them to abbeyance once more, and made hastily for the open air of the surface world. Many of the foul little worshippers had escaped; he would send the hunters back in to gather their quota of captives for the King’s pleasure. Still the threads of mystery haunted the alchemist’s keen mind. How had the small race carved such a massive and lifelike image of their god? From whence came such a strange and disturbing religion, with its attendant horrid ceremonies? Who or what was the entity called ‘Zothoqqua?’
    Perhaps these questions will never be answered, reflected the alchemist. For most of the cave-dwellers are now dead, including the leader of their hideous ceremonies. X’hyl felt a great weariness grow within him, and desired only to return to the comfort and reflective peace of his high tower in S’lithik Hhai. Time enough to ponder these strange discoveries once he had fine venom to quaff, and a hearty meal within his scaled stomach. For X’hyl was indeed wise enough to know that not all questions are well to have ultimately answered.
    And so, having gathered in their leathery nets slightly more than a hundred survivors of the massacre, the Hithians began their long trek back toward their distant metropolis. It was on the third day of their return journey that the sky became dark as of a coming storm, angry thunderheads sweeping across the sky, raining strokes of dry lightning down into the jungles. X’hyl and three of his sorcerers topped a low hill to better view the darkened heavens, and saw then a thing like a great comet plummeting from the black mountains of cloud, burning a great whole in the thick atmosphere and dropping beyond the western horizon. Moments later the earth shook as if in the midst of continental convulsions, and the serpent-folk were tossed into the slime of the jungle floor, many crushed by toppled gigantic trees. For a short while the aftershocks of the great quake rang through the ground, finally giving way to an all-pervading silence.
    X’hyl arose from where the earth’s convulsions had deposited him, his gold and scarlet robes splattered with clinging muck. "I like not the import of these dire omens," said the alchemist to his sorcerers. "Therefore bring forth a flying demon to carry us this night to far S’lithik Hhai, that we may give to the King word of our experience!"
    As they were bid, the sorcerers weaved a great conjuring, offering up the souls of several wounded cave-dwellers as enticement to the proper demon. Their incantations brought forth at length a formless monstrosity whose flesh grew at their command into sky-blotting wings. They climbed aboard its glistening back and took to the dark skies, racing past the looming moon faster than the great winds of storm season.
    Soon the flying demon brought them near the area where stood the cloud-topped towers of S’lithik Hhai, yet they saw on the horizon none of the twisting, rising spires of their home city. Drawing nearer atop the flapping monstrosity, the four Hithians witnessed now the ultimate site which their reptilian brains could not accept as reality. "Tis some foul sorcery, an impossible illusion of the unthinkable!" claimed one of the sorcerers. "Such a thing cannot have come to pass," echoed another. "What nether doom has claimed our senses to enforce such a terrible vision?" wailed the third.
    "Tis no vision, I fear," said X’hyl the Wise. "But cursed reality descended from the starry void...."
    Below the windborne sorcerers lay a shattered panorama of endless destruction, for the infallible towers of vast S’lithik Hhaa lay in black, tumbled mounds of cyclopean rubble. From horizon to horizon the great city was naught but crumbled ruins, as if trampled beneath the feet of angry gods. Already the great, cracked blocks of magic-wrought masonry sank slowly into the mire which had but recently supported their massive bulk. The great palace of the Serpent King was nowhere to be distinguished among the leagues of piled debris. Nor did any sign of the Tower of X’hyl present itself to the alchemist’s horrified eyes. "S’lithik Hhai is no more," muttered the wisest of the Hith, and the queer expression which passed for weeping among the Hith claimed the visages of the hovering wizards.
    A great rumbling came from below, the vast sea of rubble shifted, and a massive, black-furred toad-thing emerged, lifting its great-mawed head high into the air. A lengthless, slime-coated tongue snaked out like the swift East wind and wrapped around the flying mote which had disturbed its fresh slumber. At last X’hyl the Wise fully understood the meaning and object of the cave-dwellers’ strange chant, as great Zothoqqua drew a tasty morsel into the black canyon which was its mouth. A brief swallow, and the far-traveled god settled back into its place among the mountains of rubble, drifting eventually into a deep and sated sleep.

Thus ended the long-lived empire of the serpent-folk, and the liberation of mankind’s predecessors was firmly achieved. Free of the dominating presence of the carnivorous Hith, our pre-human ancestors continued in their remarkable evolution for untold millennia, and now do the descendants of those cave-dwelling savages rule the breadth of the wide world, as did the serpent-lords before them. We, the People of Tsathoggua, hold it our duty to preserve these forgotten truths, and shall store these inscribed tablets within our hidden shrine, that the true liberator of mankind may never be wholly forgotten.
    For in the fullness of time descendants of the great god’s summoners did abandon worship of their sleeping savior, and his slumbering bulk was lost beneath slow-rising mountains. Yet we of the Faithful will not forget the One Who Sleeps, for soon the stars will align as they did so many eons past, and we shall summon our Lord forth from his sacred resting place deep within forgotten earthly caverns, as our ancient forbears did call him down from faraway Cykranosh. The revived hunger of mighty Tsathoggua shall then be great, and a just vengeance shall be exacted upon all those who have forsaken their deliverer, paving the way for the birth of a new and more faithful empire.


Check out John Fultz' site, Cosmic Visions, or contact him by email at winner8@sprynet.com.

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Copyright © 1997 John R. Fultz. All Rights Reserved.
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