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Eight Memoir of the Hollow One:

Eight Memoir of the Hollow One:

33rd of Einmanudron, 2850 of Einvierzion.

The snow blanketed landscape of the Eastern Upper Realms calmed his waking mind after each dreamless night. The snow perfectly melded onto the legions of Ginotsukiel trees’ graceful silvery leaves remaining even during the seasons of passing and culmination. The gentle cold frosted its thorn motifs around the edges of the window, framing the breathtaking art of creation in front of Utsorion’s bed, alleviating the process of waking for the past 18 years.

He starts dressing up in his black layered yukata before leaving his room. Each morning he strolls through the corridors, greeting each servant before heading to the diner.

“Good morning, Brother. How was your sleep?” This time though, he only finds Aschwinar in diner, sitting in a meditating pose while stuffing his handsome face with breakfast, rice and some aquatic beast’s mutton cooked raw with some sweet and salty seasoning. His friend greets him, taking his eyes off for a second from the book hovering in front of his face.

“Morning. The same old.” He says while sitting down on his left as always. Then as the servants bring him the same breakfast, Sieghildien also arrives and greets them gracefully. The silky snow-white kimono with golden trims fitting her slender form perfectly, appearing as if the cloth is just an extension of her hair.

“Managed to decipher it finally?” Even her motions of getting on her knees in front of the table seems graceful beyond need, every motion calculated with perfection. She asks about the tablet they recovered in her velvety voice looking at Utsorion.

“All those Onis don’t appear to be just gathered for defiling.” She adds swiftly as her delicate index finger touches her sharp chin, her alluring eyes wandering in the distance.

“On that you are right sis.” Aschwinar says just as Utsorion starts moving his lips.

“From what dear brother and I deciphered, it seems they have been conjured from the Abyss Below to guard something in a hidden section.” He continues while the tender meat flies on its own up in the air, tearing itself with care before voluntarily entering his mouth.

“Do not speak while chewing Brother.” Sieghildien quickly shuts him off from continuing.

“Said hidden section was built to worship Shaishononil that roughly translates into First Death.” Utsorion speaks up as Aschwinar pouts after forced into silence by her twin.

“A death cult in short chose onis to guard their hidden shrine.” Sieghildien speaks while picking up the chop sticks elegantly as she starts eating.

Utsorion remains silent for a moment, taking a peek at Aschwinar. “Don’t worry, go at it.” Aschwinar’s voice resounds within his mind as he gives consent.

“Half right. The full truth is the moonrunes were written actually by an infernal dialect.” Utsorion lowers his head as he tries to be as silent as possible.

“I see, that may complicate things a little.” She says with a sigh as she glares at her twin brother.

“Not really. I mean maybe, we’ll see.” Aschwinar says, his voice becoming uneven for a second as shivers run down his spine.

“But it is certainly interesting, rare to find confirmation that they are capable of worshipping anything other then themselves.” He takes a short sip from the tea still steaming with a fruity scent.

“We’re on the cusp of something great, I can feel it in my bones.” He adds while taking a quick peek at Sieghildien, already racking his brain to convince her. But she continues eating her breakfast with the elegance of an eastern princess.

“I agree.” Just as Aschwinar starts his detailed speech meant to convince her, Sieghildien speaks.

“What?” He almost yells feeling confused.

“Already knows about our studies.” Utsorion says with a faint smile seeing Aschwinar’s confusion.

“Then why wait for my confirmation?” He asks even more confused.

“It’s always a pleasure watching how you put your mind to work.” Utsorion adds as he locks his arms and his smile curves fully.

“Is there a chance that entity sealed in the hidden section?” Sieghildien stops from the two to enter into their banter with a cough and asks.

“Possibly.” Ascwinar answers swiftly in a calm manner.

“So, we’ve thread carefully today.” She adds with a humorless complexion.

“With outmost care. And most importantly in a way dear old Adalbernar.” An awkward silence falls on the group as he mentions Sieghildien’s fiancé who joined their study circle circa five years before they embarked on this journey. He apologizes softly, Utsorion saying with a smile all is fine.

“Well… this was delicious. I’ll excuse myself, see you later Rion.” He stands up feeling bad, with a sigh he quickly bows and leaves the two to continue. After a few seconds Utsorion breaks the silence as the rest of the breakfast of the two spent on Utosrion advising her how to better use the minor aspect of mind.

**

“I’m sorry for bringing him up.” Ascwinar apologizes once more as Utsorion steps in, the door closing by itself.

“Don’t fret it, better now then later.” He sits down at the desk while reassuring Aschwinar than focuses on the obsidian tablet with moonrunes pulsing weakly with infernal lights, as if the tablet itself mimicked breathing.

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

“So learnt anything else before sleep?” Ascwinar asks as he leans closer too.

“Yes. Still need to do some correction, but the entrance should be under the foundation of statue depicting Izanagi and Izanami holding the infant gods on the lowest floor.” He starts explaining as he recalls his notes scribbled down before going to bed before facing him. “Did you found anything resembling that or just the foundation?”

“We turned back yesterday at the stairs leading further down. But thanks to the Onis exorcised, we can now delve further. I’ll notify you immediately if we do.” Ascwinar says as he leans back in his chair.

The two continue deciphering the tablet, Aschwinar inscribing his mind with the information about the various traps laid out by the onis, including one that assaults the victim with stimulating desires that often result in groups turning on their opposites. Others more mundane, filling the body with hellfire instantaneously while keeping the unfortunate, and unprepared victim alive while the pain of ones’ flesh being incinerated remaining. The flames of abyss then slowly turning the pain into unquenchable hatred while binding the soul into eternal servitude of the responsible oni.

“So, there are also undead down there.” Aschwinar mumbles as they start deciphering another tablet they brought back.

“Could be. This part mostly refers to eternal service being his gift or something of that nature.” Utosrion adds while scratching his thin eyebrows.

“Well, seeing them use death spells, yet not running into a single undead the past 18 years seemed odd.” Aschwinar says as he starts massaging the edge of his left eye. “In that case they are probably evolved ones made to guard.” Utsorion adds as he finishes writing down the infernal moonrunes and starts adding notes around them.

“Guarding what?” Aschwinar asks rhetorically. “Whatever it is, it has to be important to them. This part referring to the seal may mean else instead of being sealed away.” Utsorion asks after racking his brain, then reaches for the other tablet and takes a look at the moonrune with the meaning seal.

A knock sounds on the door, and Sieghildien enters. Her well-honed body clad in her glamorous armor, consisting a chest and shoulder plate following draconic motifs, crafted from Lucril a unique alloy offering natural defense against attacks of magical nature. Under it, smoothing over her soft skin, a Aethril thick tunic with large folded collars protecting her neck, dyed golden while her natural elven aura amplifying the glistening of the material, making her appear as a radiant Valkyrie descended upon the mortal world.

The lower part consists of a pant with thigh and shin protection, each piece enchanted to bend, making easier combat movements for her. Her long sword mimicking the appearance of katana’s already hanging on her back.

“Aschwinar, time to make preparations.” She says while standing gracefully behind her brother, still lost in translation.

“One minute… ouch we were at the exciting part.” A pinching feeling in his sides are planted in his mind, quickly jumping up, grumping as he walks out to change into his adventuring gear.

“Oh now, you can stay here with him, but I have to hurry.” He says as he notices the two already locked together in each other’s arms.

“Keep him safe.” Utsorion says as their foreheads touch each other, her soft hair feeling like silken cushion, the two gently cradling in the middle of the room.

“I will, don’t worry.” She says before their lips touch each other with a sweet tenderness, their tongues locked together.

“Can I ask you something hypothetical.” She speaks, her voice softer than ever as her eyes stare out into the distance, her mind wandering as she rests her head on his chest. “You can always.” He tenderly whispers.

“Would you escape with me to the Lower Realms, if I killed Adalbernar during today’s delving?” She asks, her tone dreamy. “I would.” Utsorion replies without hesitation.

“But I rather you didn’t do that.” He adds while biting the top of her right ear peeking out from the snowfall of her long hair. “Why?” She asks with an aching voice.

“Because one day after I gain magic prowess, we’ll change Alfhiem forever, together.” He says as his alabaster hands lift her face up, his eyes glaring into hers with determination before they once more pressing their lips together.

**

“Good luck guys!” Utsorion says with a smile. “We won’t need that with the great me!” Ascwinar swiftly responds while standing proudly in his venturing gear consisting of black robes fashioned in the eastern style with a few Lucril plates as protection, hidden under another layer of his contrasting velvety attire.

“As long as he doesn’t bump into a wall while reading that is.” Alfiavel, a younger moon elf born of the elven capital of Alfheim playfully teases as he pats his shoulders. Alfiavel is one of the first members of their group, an old friend of Aschwinar with as good a mind as his, even though he leans towards applying his magic to improve his martial prowess. Like his old friend, he also sees Utsorion’s state more as a mystery that one day may blossom into something unimaginable to their race than a curse.

“Let’s depart before the sun turns to the moon.” Adalbernar speaks up in a surly manner while standing right besides Sieghildien and Aschwinar. While he is not bad looking even by elven standards, compared to either of the twins he is quite lacking, with many convinced that he got lucky getting betrothed to her thanks to his familial ties.

Utsorion watches as the eight of them disappear at the end of the long road in the forest surrounding his family’s mansion used for vacationing. The last ones to disappear are Hidetsurial and Sieghildien acting as the rearguards of the group. For a second she turns back and a faint smile adorns her mesmerizing face before disappearing.

“18 years and it still hard to say goodbyes during these times huh?” Skazicrah appears besides Utsorion and says, he leaps a little after not noticing him.

“A little, but they’ll come back.” He adds, treasuring the moment as the tender warmness fills him. “That much is true.” The dark elven gardener hired by his father adds while locking his arms together.

“But why don’t go with them?” Then the warmness starts fading as Skazicreh asks. “I mean, there are eight of them to protect you from whatever danger lurks in those ruins.” He adds before Utsorion could reply with the usual he would just slow them down, and he can be more useful back here. But some part of him stops him from answering, a longing feeling to go with them pulling him.

“Well, I can still do more here when they bring things back.” He responds in the end, pushing the hard feeling away. “That is true, but I wouldn’t your knowledge help them too, like Master Aschwinar could surely focus more on watching out for hidden traps while you examine the lost tomes and scrolls.” The dark elf then retorts that sounds reasonable to him, once again planting the longing to go with them.

“Why are you saying all these now?” This time Utsorion gets overwhelmed by his sudden emotions he can’t describe, asking Skazicreh in an aggressive yet still not so loud manner. “Excuse my intrusion Young Master! Its just, I had my own hardships, similar in a sense to yours.” He adds as he regretfully bows down his head.

“I myself got left behind numerous times by my previous employer, and friend. But I was blinded by my emotions when it came to walking besides them into the fray.” He continues while keeping his head low. “What I want to say with all this, is don’t waste yoursell staying behind, even if you have thousands of years, the right moment slips by in a blink of an eye as my friend once said.” His head raises and stares into Utsorion’s eyes as he finishes.

“Thank you, and sorry for raising my voice.” Utsorion bows before him after feeling bad. “Don’t, I may have overstepped my boundaries.” Skazicreh adds before excusing himself to continue working on the vivid garden of the mansion while whistling a sweet ode, feeling familiar to Utsorion as he himself heads into the mansion, convinced that next time, he goes with them…