It took quite a bit of explaining before Lefty finally understood what had transpired between Ol Blu and the poop monsters. Fortunately, the kicken had plenty of time to explain, for the living waste were busy with some unknown but hopefully helpful project.

  You see, after attempting to communicate with the sludge with eyes for many frustrating moments, both it and Blu realized that the process was taking far too long. The creature could only speak one word at a time, and those words were often too muddled to understand. Between that, translating everything for Lefty, and the interrupting gurgles that came from the other sludge creature in the corner, it had taken nearly ten minutes just for them to make proper introductions. Lefty and Ol Blu had given their names, and learned that their host was called Domitainus… or Dom for short.

  Having grown exasperated with the slow pace of their conversation, Dom told them to wait as it went to the other side of the room and began rummaging through a chest full of long metal pipes. There were a few tense seconds as Lefty prepared for the possibility of another attack. The pipes were certainly long enough and sturdy enough to be used as effective clubs, but the creature didn’t hold them like weapons and made no attempt to approach its guests., Instead it brought the tubes over to its couch-like companion in the corner. With careful precision, it slowly inserted them into the other monster’s gooey flesh, sinking the pipes into specific spots so that half of their length jutted into the air. Once the first pair was situated, it returned to the chest and grabbed another pair to repeat the process. There were dozens of pipes rattling around in the chest, and it quickly became clear that Domitainus intended to use all of them. Whatever it was doing, the process would take quite a while to complete, giving Ol Blu time to fill Lefty in on what had transpired with the guardian.

  “So… wait... if that big thing was like a servant… why did it obey you?” He asked, after the tale was completed.

  “I don't think it has a choice who it obeys. It seemed like a… magical automaton…” responded Ol Blu.

  “What’s an… automaton?” Asked Lefty.

  “It's… kind of like a slave… except it doesn't want to be free.

  Lefty tilted his head. “Why not?”

  “Because it can’t think for itself. It just… does whatever it’s told. Almost like a machine or a tool… except it’s still alive.

  “You can do that? With magic?” Asked Lefty, the distaste obvious in his voice.

  Ol Blu grimaced. “Well you’re not supposed to. The methods are highly immoral. Either the guardian used to be another sludge creature and its mind was erased and dominated… or it's entirely artificial; a mound of filth brought to life just so it can be a slave.”

  Lefty’s face darkened, and he turned back towards Domitianus and its companion. “So they are monsters.” He said with a scowl.

  “I… wouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet lad. There’s still a lot we don’t know. It’s possible I’m mistaken… or that Dom here isn’t responsible for making that thing… though it certainly could have with all of this.” Ol Blu said, gesturing at the various magical implements in the room around them.

  “On their own the elemental magics are fairly simple, but when you start combining them… well… things can get out of hand real quick. That’s partially why the magic guilds are so divided up top. That’s not a recent thing, it’s been like that for as long as I’ve been alive. Doesn’t matter who is in charge, or what land you’re in, most people have enough sense to keep the mages from mixing together. Cuz when they do… that’s how you get automatons.” He said with a shudder. “Among other things.” He added, glancing down at Lefty’s feathers.

  The young man frowned but said nothing. He spent a moment looking at the ground in deep contemplation… but that only deepened his frown. For a few seconds Ol Blu thought perhaps this was all too much for his friend, but then a new thought seemed to strike Lefty like a pesky bug. His head twitched, and he turned his attention back to Blu.

  “Question… If Dom did make that autotom thing, he’d make it so it only obeyed him, right? Like… since it obeyed you, that means it's probably not his creation, right?”

  Ol Blu just shrugged. “I don't know how it works lad, I'm not a mage. That might be the case. Or maybe Dom tried to do that but it was too difficult. Or maybe it didn’t bother with that because it didn't think anyone else would talk to the guardian. After all none of the other sludge creatures we saw had mouths. And very few people up top can still speak the old tongue, so it’s unlikely any intruder would be able to command it.”

  Lefty sighed loudly in frustration.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you have a plausible theory, but we can’t say anything for sure with so little information. We can only speculate.”

  The young man crossed his arms, his brow furrowing further.

  “Speculating.” He practically spit out the word.

  “I want to know! How’m I supposed to make up my mind when we don’t know what really happened?”

  Ol Blu’s face softened, giving the kind of nostalgic smile that you often see from elders talking to teens. “That’s one of life’s great challenges lad. It’s something everyone struggles with. You can’t always know the truth. And even when you think you do, it’s usually not as simple as it seems. That being said, there’s a few things I’ve learned in my time. The key to navigating complex situations like this is-”

  But before he could continue with his sage advice, Domitainus interrupted. It made a wheezing noise on its face pipes, the musical equivalent of a grunt to let them know it was finished.

  By then its companion, the formless large blob of brownish muck, looked like some kind of… strange… sloppy… pipe organ. More than a dozen metal tubes rose from its surface, all of them different lengths and sizes. Most were sticking straight up, more-or-less, though the uneven surface gave many of them a slight tilt that made the whole thing seem messy and unorganized. Regardless, it was now clear what the intention was. This lumpy mass of sludge was going to speak… in the same way that Domitainus had, only on a larger and much more complex scale.

  Lefty and Ol Blu grew silent as they awaited its first words, curious to see what this giant pile of living filth would sound like. Both of them expected something ugly and gross; a wet mess of whistles and fart noises. They expected it to be similar to the crude speech that Dom had attempted earlier, just louder… and if they were lucky, a little faster.

  Instead... what they heard… was impossible to describe.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I can certainly try… but words alone couldn’t do justice to that acoustic miracle. It was speech yes… but also song… and also noise… and yet so much more than any of those things. Trying to explain it with only words, is like trying to draw a dancer in motion. I can only show you part of the story; frozen moments of the greater whole that hint at what the real experience was like. I suppose I could attempt to sing… but to even begin replicating the sounds… I’d need a chorus of voices to join me, and a band of musicians to play along with them. And they would all need to be masters of their craft; experts of microtonal music who could glide on the razor's edge between beauty and cacophony.

  It was the audio equivalent of a starry night. Seemingly infinite. Seemingly random at first. But there was an order to things. There were patterns for those who wished to navigate. And just as the stars could guide you home, that “song” could guide you as well… lead your mind on a journey to lands unseen. It seemed capable of anything. Of complexity and nuance on par with life itself. And yet despite its vast potential… I could describe the tone in a single word.

  Sadness.

  Hearing the creature sing through its pipes… was like hearing the saddest song you could imagine. Like listening to your father tell you of his greatest regrets in life. Like hearing the cry of an innocent animal in pain. It was somehow all of those things at once… without being unpleasant. Make no mistake, this was not a song in the traditional sense. There was no progression to the notes, no recognizable rhythm… and yet it fit together. It wasn't like listening to an incoherent mess of dissonant sounds and sad sounds; it flowed together in a way that almost seemed... natural; in the same way that brown bark and green leaves just fit together, despite those colors clashing artistically.

  As for what it actually said… it was only two short sentences.

  “Greetings to you young ones, it’s a pleasure to speak”.

  “My name is Marcus, and I’m glad we could meet.”

  The creature spoke in the old tongue, just as Domitainus had, but its words were crystal clear and perfectly audible. Not only did Lefty instantly recognize it as language, but even though he didn't understand a single word, he still felt the emotions those words conveyed. When the creature spoke, he sensed instinctively that it was greeting him, knew that Marcus was its name… and even though sadness permeated the whole of its sound, he could tell that the creature was happy to talk to him. A kind of bittersweet happiness, like an old woman being visited by her family after years of solitude… glad to have guests, but nervous about hosting, and worrying deep down that this visit… might be the last. Excitement, regret, hope, curiocity, and even a little anxiety; all mixed together in that simple greeting. In two seconds, the creature's 'song' had communicated its thoughts better than words alone ever could.

  Standing slack jawed, Lefty waved at the poop monster, greeting it the only way he could. “Oh… Hi...” He said… which is more than Ol Blu managed.

  The creature's first few words had expressed so much that it stunned the kicken, his mind simply unable to comprehend it all. He stared down at the bubbling mass of gooey slop with a sense of profound discovery. Never, in his wildest dreams, would he have imagined that something so astounding could be emitted by a literal pile of crap. He was so lost in thought, that he nearly lost his balance. To be fair, Lefty was wobbling too. It seemed that simply listening to this creature was so engaging… that standing at the same time was too difficult. And so, the young man set Ol Blu on the table next to him, grabbed an old stool from nearby, and took a seat.

  For the next half an hour Lefty and his friend sat across from the sludge with pipes. They explained why they were here and what they wanted, and though communication still required some translation on both sides, Marcus's ability to speak quickly and clearly made the process much faster.

  As they talked Domitainus stood nearby, leaning against the wall with its arms crossed, obviously not enjoying this situation… but not interrupting either. It listened intently as Lefty revealed that he was searching for a tabernacle and the Clavis Imperium within; terms that neither of the sludge creatures were familiar with. They had been down here a long time, and knew nothing of events transpiring on the surface. The young man tried to explain further, but as soon as the name Scaevolus came up… everything stopped.

  Marcus suddenly fell silent and still, his humming chorus of flutes cutting out as if the musician had been struck. Domitainus went rigid, standing at attention as its fists shook with rage. The kicken didn’t even have time to translate his companion’s words. He didn’t need to. The sludge monsters knew that name.

  Reaching one hand up to the flutes in its face, Dom shouting in its own terrible screeching speech. Compared to the serene tones of Marcus, the sound was ear splittingly harsh, nearly knocking Lefty from his seat.

  “Scaevol. Must. Die! We. Never. Help. YOU! NEVER! YOU LEAVE! ENEMIES!”

  As the adventurers were still recovering from the sudden and jarring shouts, Domitainus stormed up to Marcus and grabbed two of the larger pipes, wiggling them violently as it attempted to remove them from its companion.

  “What? Wait! No!” Lefty said. He jumped up from his seat and grabbed the sludge monster’s thin bone-like arms.

  “Stop! He-He's already dead! He died a long time ago!” Lefty said as he struggled with the skeletal being, trying to restrain the brittle old creature without breaking it. Ol Blu, sitting on the nearby table, was silent.

  “Tell him Blu!” Lefty shouted. The kicken hesitated for a second, and then spoke Lefty's message in the old tongue, telling Domitainus and Marcus that Scaevolus had already passed.

  As it heard the words, the waste with eyes froze in place, letting go of Marcus's pipes. Seeing this, Lefty released his own grip, sighing in both relief and disgust as he tried to wipe his now sludge-covered hands on his pants.

  After a moment of silence, Marcus spoke up, two of its pipes singing out as if a whisper, its voice even more melancholic than before. “Is this true?” It asked.

  “...Yes.” Said Ol Blu in the old tongue, “Scaevolus is no more. He died a long time ago and left no heir. That's why we're here, to get the key he left behind.”

  Domitainus's hands went limp, its whole body wavering, showing emotion in ways its unblinking eyes couldn't. It staggered back, leaning against the wall as if injured, before turning to one of the tables. Lefty and Ol Blu watched in silence, not knowing what to say or do as the thing slowly stumbled over to that table, upon which sat a variety of beakers and equipment used for chemistry. For half a moment it just leaned over the table, staring at its contents. Then, with neither care nor malice, Domitainus laid its arm flat against the tabletop, and slowly slid it across the surface, dumping everything onto the dirty floor. Glass bottles shattered on the ground, as carefully mixed powders were wasted and ruined.

  Before Lefty or Blu could ask what was going on Marcus spoke up; and though I can't replicate exactly what it said, the words were something along the lines of:

  “Revenge was his only driving force; without a foe it has no course.”

  Even as the words filled the air, Domitainus was walking to another table, lifting its arm to repeat the process. It began to slowly slide the contents onto the floor, but before it could even finish, the sludge creature fell to its knees, slumped pathetically against the table in despair. If its bloodshot eyes could have shed tears, they undoubtedly would have.

  “I… I don't understand,” said Lefty after a moment. Ol Blu quickly translated to Marcus and expressed similar confusion. Once more, the pipes began to hum, letting out that transcendentally musical speech that bordered on poetry.

  “It seems the world has passed us by; our former deeds are lost to time.

  Who we were and what was done; has not been spoken, taught, or sung.

  I recognize the key you seek; I'll tell you what I know.

  But first please listen to me speak; my tale of long ago.

  If you reveal the truth above; and spread our story once I've ceased.

  Then though we'll never get revenge; with solace I will rest... in peace.

  Lefty might have been tired… and hungry… and covered in the drying filth leftover from his encounter with the guardian… but he agreed. He could not pass up the chance to hear a story; especially one told by a bard without equal; a poet of a lost civilization with lyrics that seems to transcend reality. The acquisition of the Clavis Impeium… didn't even factor into his decision.

  Lefty sat back down on his stool, with Ol Blu resting on the table next to him. The pair left Domitainus to its sorrow, letting it weep without tears behind them as they focused their attention on Marcus. The sludge with pipes stood silent for a moment… gathered its thoughts… and began to sing.