The Orint of Maguman

Heffod the Blort shifted his lower torso forward again awkwardly and heaved himself upward. These blocky steps in bipedal constructions were so annoying, but the treasures were so often worth a little extra effort. Still, there was no denying it. This planet’s gravity was not friendly to the Blort. Heffod beheld the open and undefended plain at the top of the next step with a certain degree of relief. Published reports by his compatriots had never described being this close to the ultimate prize. The journey might yet be far from over.

This was not one of your typical outer galactic rim scavenger jobs. Heffod had a familiar story for why he had left that life behind, replacing mere capitalism with a more religious fervor. Enter the wrong sleazy bar and engage in the wrong conversation, and you too can easily find yourself deeper and deeper in the thrall of what Galactic Investigative Bureau authorities called Ruby’s Game. It started with rumors that a female Glarot with the callsign Ruby Flame was the first to find a clue that the Orint of Maguman existed. The predictable race for this new prize sprang to action, 4000 cycles ago in ancient history. Still, in the agricultural station where Heffod had been born and bred to tend the brine fields, he would read of new exploits uncovering more evidence that it existed every few cycles. No one ever claimed to have found it. Inevitably, Heffod had been in such an aforementioned establishment, on the third moon of Neiss-6 embarrassingly enough, low on credits, when he accidentally accepted a drink from a Vern. Though sharp around every syllable, mandible, and body plate, that conversation changed his life. “Come help me, young one. Let’s travel the stars and find the Orint of Maguman for ourselves!” Twenty three cycles, and countless space crews later, here he was. Alone. Yet, closer to the goal that he ever thought possible.

Deep in thought, Heffod slithered towards the low building ahead that was nestled in low frilly bushes. This was the only structure on this plateau, and there was no obvious higher place to strive to be. He stopped short at the marvel in front of him and a pleasant shiver ran from tail to eyestalks. The building was covered in lines of text in the ancient language that Ge the 65th reportedly translated directly from Ruby’s own diaries, if one were inclined to believe the ravings of Blorzaf the Librarian. Presumably, he would know. Heffod was confused, however, as the language ran in all directions here. The same line of symbols ran left to right on one line and repeated right to left on the next. When he squinted, there were matching strings of symbols running up and down in an alternate polarization of the ambient sunlight. Curious. But, this must be the place, he thought.

Heffod expected to face a fourth, and hopefully final, challenge to gain entry, but he found a simple gravel path to an open doorway to whatever might be inside. Could it be finally here, in the open, so unguarded? He slithered forward, and entered a single expansive room broken by thick columns holding up a domed ceiling. The overlapping and reversed writing continued on the inside walls. The room’s center was dominated by a wide circular metal cage erected around a strange dias with a polished bright red cap. He slumped against a pillar in exhaustion. “I can’t believe I’ve found it after all this time,” he said aloud. “The –”

“The Maguman of Orint! I have found it!”

Heffod slid forward in confusion and anger, trying to find the source of this strange interruption. An oddly fluffy purple bipedal thing was standing several columns away in a different part of the room, hands in thick gloves on its hips. A striped tail flicked dust on the ground. Heffod tried to make himself look tall and big. “You there! You have found nothing. I am the one who has found the Orint of Maguman today!”

“What?” Two sets of eyes blinked in unison under a mop of purple hair. “Nononono. Your translation is wrong. That is clearly the Maguman of Orint. And I, Eset of the Nomi Clan, declared the find first!” Eset marched forward on spindly legs.

Heffod moved with a surprising burst of speed and arrived inside the metal ring at the dias at the same time as his new rival. Side by side now, they shared confusion at a new inscription on the red cap built into the top of the dias. Concentric rings of symbols rotated in opposite directions. Eset read out, “Here Press Maguman of Orint The For. Darn, you are correct.”

Heffod’s head sloshed forward in agreement. “Hrm, okay, good, fine. But, may I ask you a question? The Orint of Maguman. Do you know what it is? I feel like I have devoted half my life to finding it, without a single physical description.”

Eset blinked again. “That’s part of the thrill, no? It could be anything.”

“Have you encountered the Flegarian’s interpretation? A massive doomsday device?” Heffod laughed, ripples making his tail twitch.

Eset blew air from a compartment Heffod hadn’t noticed yet and smiled. “That would be a colossal prank, wouldn’t it? I fail to see the upside there for someone with a story like Ruby Flame, though. She is well documented as long deceased.”

“Hrm, well, since we are both here, should we press this? Together?” Heffod shifted his tail position and wiggled a little over the inscription.

“Why not.” They pressed down.

The metal ring slowly ignited.


From Reddit WritingPrompt, [WP] “We’ve finally found it! The Orint of Maguman!” “So… What does it do?”. Reposting here over a year later, the character Ruby Flame resembling prompter u/RussFlame must have been unconcious, but I like the serendipity. I like that this ending is just ambiguous enough to let me return to this particular universe, maybe. Others must still be playing Ruby’s Game.


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