“I found the mountain when I was fifty-one — that was two hundred years ago,” Csala began as she drew the map of the parts of the mountain she was familiar with. She could have sent the information the way the human requested but she didn’t want to give away that she could. She also suspected that he knew she lied. She wasn’t going to change her mind on the matter though.
“From what I’ve heard, it never allowed anyone to come close to it. The natives of Terra Praeta steered clear of it, revering it as a sacred monument. No one ever went near it.”
“But you did,” Jerome said, his eyes roaming her face.
Csala took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I did. And it was the best decision I ever made — even though I don’t know how I was able to come anywhere close to it.”
Jerome thought about how he was able to enter the mountain. He didn’t feel any resistance or push.
“Where is this place?” Csala asked, looking at him.
“We’re inside my mind, in a manner of speaking.”
Csala’s brows rose up in shock, “A mental plane!”
Jerome was surprised at that.
“That’s almost a myth in Terra Praeta,” she said as she dropped the stick in her hand to focus on Jerome. “Tell me about it. How did you acquire one?” She leaned into him, her eyes curiously urging him to spill.
“Slow down. I didn’t ‘acquire’ it. It just sort of happened.”
Csala frowned at him. “A mental plane doesn’t just ‘happen’.”
“Well, mine did,” Jerome said, leaning on the backrest of the divan and placing his hand on Csala’s waist. The action felt natural to him.
Csala looked pointedly at him with a raised eyebrow and Jerome blushed. He didn’t move his hand away, though. Instead, he tightened his grip and drew her closer to him.
“You can’t have me, Jerome,” she said.
“Oh, you remember my name now,” Jerome said and she scoffed at him. “You should have thought about what would’ve happened if one of your captives proved too much for you. And I don’t want you — at least not in the way you might be insinuating.” Not that he knew what way she was insinuating.
Csala gazed at him and the look she saw in his eyes made her hackles rise. She could tell he was barely holding himself back. She had never been in a situation where she was at the mercy of a man. She hoped…hoped Jerome would not act on what his body was feeling. Even without their true bodies, the succubi were still pleasing to the eye. It couldn’t be helped.
“I’m onto you, Csala,” Jerome said, leaning forward. His dark unblinking eyes bore into her red ones as she leaned away from him. “Even though you were just as aroused as I was, you never crossed that last line with me.”
Csala stiffened at that. She tried to push herself away from Jerome but he held her tightly. Then she remembered something and her fear tripled, even though she felt no heartbeat in her chest.
“My body…where is it?” She struggled to speak as Jerome’s presence was suffocating her. Since this was his mental plane, he really was a god here.
“Somewhere safe,” Jerome responded, leaning back into the divan, and the weight of his presence subsided. “Are you going to continue telling me what I want to know, or…”
Csala cleared her throat and relaxed a little in Jerome’s hands, “Did you…”
Jerome let the moment drag out a little. Stiffened in his arm once again, Csala’s fear almost turned to full-blown panic.
“Now why would I have sex with an unconscious woman?” Jerome asked.
Her relief was written all over her face at that, which further convinced Jerome that there was a secret there. Maybe succubi didn’t have sex or couldn’t, which didn’t make sense. From all the myths and fiction he knew in his former life, they were the ultimate sex machines, women who had sex with men in their dreams and all that — things could be different here though, as this wasn’t just another fiction.
Jerome took a deep breath as he brought himself back to the here and now.
“I heard you muttering under your breath when you tried to escape the first time,” Csala said cautiously as she continued drawing on the floor. “Your people shouldn’t know how to do what you did back there.” Even though Jerome said he hadn’t done anything to her body, she could hear the underlying threat in his voice. So she knew she was treading on thin ice.
“My people…” Jerome said. “Elaborate.”
Csala paused and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Mantra…was wielded by the Fae in times past. They spoke to the earth, the wind, the sea…every part of mother nature did their bidding.
“They ruled with an iron hand in their time. This mountain…” Csala looked up but quickly remembered she wasn’t inside the mountain, at least her body still was…she hoped.
“The mountain was built by them. No one alive right now knows anything about it, though. What we do know is that it was supposed to be the last vestige of the Fae. My mother taught me about them. ‘They were a narcissistic race’ she had said. They held power beyond anything Terra Praetans could fathom. Why wouldn’t they, when they were favored by a god.”
“A god?” Jerome asked in surprise.
“Hmmm. It is said that Odin, a god from yonder plane, descended this world and named it Terra Praeta…”
Those words struck a chord in his heart as Jerome’s mind flashed back to what the Sovereign said about Harun, the man who named everything in their world.
“He should have named the planet,” the Sovereign had said. So this is what the Sovereign was hinting at. Did he know I was going to find out about this? If Harun had christened our planet, maybe The Cataclysm wouldn’t have happened, Jerome mused, deep in thought. But Odin?…are you kidding me?!
“...Jerome?” Csala called out to him.
“Hmm? Ahem. Was a little lost in thought there. Go on,” he said.
“Much of history has been lost with the extinction of the Fae. What I know is just the little I was told. So apparently…”
~~~
Odin descended Terra Praeta eons ago, a planet in its infancy, filled with evolving life forms. He christened the planet and decided to stay and be worshiped by his loyal subjects. The christening of the planet brought great changes to the planet, causing it to evolve. The beings and species of every living thing on the planet also underwent great changes.
Looking upon the sentient beings on the face of Terra Praeta, Odin took note of the Fae, favoring them above others. He taught them the secrets of the world — the secrets of the dark arts — and lavished them with gifts to help them protect themselves. The fae became servants of Odin and served him for eons.
But Odin left all of a sudden, leaving his servants godless. Having been given all this power and knowledge; and with no one to police them around, the Fae took it upon themselves to tame the rest of the world. They were favored by a god. Hence, every other species on the face of the planet became mere insects in their eyes. They created spells and mantras to commune with spirits and the elements. This made them terrifying combatants in their time.
They became the face of The All Father — the new gods.
The Fae could uproot mountains and call forth giant meteors from the sky. One Fae had the strength of a hundred ubus — and the ubus were strong, far stronger than many other species on the planet.
They enslaved many races in Terra Praeta but spread themselves too thin, which brought about cracks in their supposed ‘perfect system of governance.’
Their pride in their fortune turned to ego and narcissism. And they burned the world to the ground in their greed and lust for power that could never be sated.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
~~~
“And I’m guessing after taking over Terra Praeta they set their sights on new worlds,” Jerome said absently.
“Huh?” Csala asked as his statement drew her out of her reverie.
“There are stories in my world about gods running the world eons ago…” Jerome sighed, “I’m pretty sure those gods were the fae.”
“Maybe. That’s all I know,” Csala said.
“How’d you learn to speak my language anyway?”
Csala scoffed, “Your language is easy. You should try learning fairie and see what a language should sound like.”
“And that should be the language of the fae, I presume?” Jerome asked and Csala nodded, keeping her face on the stick as she drew connecting lines to finish up her drawing.
“Teach me,” Jerome said with a little squeeze of his fingers on her waist. Her smooth, supple skin and curves were hard to resist.
“You’ll have to let me out of here for that,” Csala said, dropping her stick and dusting imaginary dirt off her hands.
The two of them gazed into each other’s eyes momentarily. Jerome could tell that she would attack him the moment she was out. The stories and the language of the fae were just breadcrumbs she was using to negotiate with him. He still had everything under control though.
“And if I say no?”
“Then you get nothing more from me,” Csala replied.
“I could just keep you here forever…and let your body wither away without a soul.”
Csala looked into his eyes for a long time without responding.
“You won’t,” she said at last.
“And how do you know that?” Jerome asked with mirth.
“I just know,” Csala responded and looked away. “You’re not that kind of person. If you were, you’d have done whatever you wished with my body…call it intuition, or whatever you like.”
“Don’t you think you’re putting too much trust in intuition,” Jerome said. Csala frowned but didn’t respond. “I’ll let you out, but not yet.”
“Well, I’m not saying anything more until you let me out,” Csala said adamantly and peeled his hand away from her waist.
Jerome looked down at the map she had drawn. Though it was two-dimensional, he could still tell that she limited her activities to a certain part of the mountain. She had to. No one would be capable of surviving at a certain altitude.
“We’ll see about that,” he said with a smile before vanishing from sight.
Coming out of his mental plane, Jerome followed the map in his mind. After searching for a while, he finally found the cell and let the prisoners out. Sadly, only one person was sane enough to leave. Drale made a life debt to Jerome and left as quickly as possible, not wanting to be anywhere near the mountain.
As soon as Drale took to the skies, he disappeared from view. It took Jerome a while to come to terms with that — that the world just shuffles people around like chess pieces on a board. All alone, Jerome focused on finding anything that could lead him toward treasures. If this was supposed to be the last vestige of the fae, there had to be treasures waiting for him to take. He just had to find a way to get to them.
Jerome searched all over for five days and turned the whole place upside down, but he found nothing. He used the map Csala drew and went beyond the edges of what she had drawn for him, yet he couldn’t find anything. Jerome was no fool, however. The mountain was a big one and gauging his current altitude with respect to the surface of the planet, he knew he was likely tens of thousands of feet above the surface of the planet.
He decided to go down, deep down into the mountain. Farther down than Csala had ever gone. This was a good opportunity to practice his newfound skill as well. He tracked down one of the tunnels leading down into the mountain and dived in.
Jerome let himself fall downwards. He took a deep breath and stopped the movement of his core. Then he reached out for the essence in the rock walls and tried to bend it to his will. The feeling of earth essence moving around him reached him momentarily but passed just as quickly. He was freefalling under the influence of gravity so he left behind the rocks he took hold of as he fell, unable to hold onto their essence for long.
Jerome practiced…and at the same time, kept an eye on the space beneath him. It'll be devastating to hit the ground at such great speeds. He would probably burst like a watermelon if he did.
Wielding essence had always been easy for Jerome. He quickly got the hang of what he was trying to do: manipulating the earth around him as he fell. Just before he hit the ground, the rocks on the tunnel wall shattered and poured out like streams of sand, buttressing him and slowing down his fall.
Jerome landed on the ground with a light sound and exhaled loudly. That could have gone very, very, badly and he knew it. If he hadn't been able to manipulate the earth as quickly as he did…Jerome shivered and shook off the thought. He picked a direction and started off.
He went on for days digging his way through the soil and opening new passageways to take him into the depths of the mountain. He dug out whole tunnels when there was no path to take anymore. Everything around him was earth.
After so many days in the depths of the mountain, he broke into a hallway that was pristine and modernized. He felt like he had appeared inside a spaceship of sorts. Lights from glowing runes on the walls and ceiling lit up the portion of the hall where he was as if there were sensors integrated into them. The lights dimmed in places he had already passed through and remained dim in places he had yet to pass through until he got there.
Jerome examined the walls and runes to see if he could tell what they meant but they were far more complex than anything he had ever seen.
Although he was very brilliant, he hadn’t been taught how to read ancient scripts used in making formations by the Royals and he never thought he needed it. But now, even though he wished he learned, he knew that was just a pipe dream. He was the Dark One, so the Royals won't teach him — which he understood. No one would give a potential enemy powerful information that could be used against them. And the other houses wouldn’t teach those not of their blood.
Jerome sighed. Vorthean families had a lot of prejudice against those of a different bloodline. Nepotism was the order of the day. This was normal, however, as there may not even be a concept or word to describe or name it.
Jerome walked down the hall until he came to a dead end. He wanted to turn back but he felt a strange urge to check out the wall. It wasn’t until he was standing in front of it that the wall dissolved and a chamber appeared in his view. The light coming from the chamber was dim, giving the chamber a gloomy feeling. Jerome walked in carefully, with a spear in hand, ready to fight anything that jumps at him out of thin air.
The moment his foot touched the inside of the chamber, the dim lights slowly grew brighter. The lights were comfortable and soft on his eyes — like the chamber was welcoming him home. He looked around the chamber and the only thing inside the room was a small podium-like structure that reached up to the height of a table at the center of the chamber. On top of the podium was a black crystal resting on a small red cushion pillow.
Jerome went up to it and slowly picked it up. The crystal was not a perfect sphere, but it was smooth and dark like black glass. He studied it for a while before scanning it with his perception. Jerome’s brows rose in surprise at what he felt. There was something in there, like data waiting to be read.
He poured a little essence into the crystal and it lit up with a multitude of colors. Jerome smiled widely and waited for something to happen… but nothing happened.
“Are you kidding me?” he said as his excitement died. He scanned the crystal once again with his perception and the world in his view bled away to be replaced by a white room.
“Welcome,” a female voice said. The voice sounded almost like an automaton.
Jerome looked around but saw no one. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I am The Guardian…,” the voice deepened as it spoke, becoming masculine in moments. It was almost as if it was adjusting and trying to find the right vocal structure.
“I am The Guardian of this mountain…or so the remnants of Terra Praeta call it,” the voice said, sounding more human. And deeper.
“Guardian?”
“Yes. I exist to protect the secrets of the mountain from all who are unworthy of it. Do you think you’re worthy, Jerome?” the voice spoke in a deep threatening tone.
“I don’t know,” Jerome answered, wondering how this entity knew his name. He kept turning around in circles, expecting an attack at any moment. Now, he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to come down here looking for treasures.
“But I was able to enter the mountain when others couldn’t. Doesn’t that qualify me as worthy?” Jerome asked, grasping at the littlest chance to show The Guardian his worth.
“You are unworthy until proven worthy!” The Guardian roared.
Jerome swallowed. He felt an overbearing presence just as The Guardian roared but it was gone in the next moment. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was in the presence of the Sovereign. Jerome held himself together to keep from shaking. Even though this space he was in was a projection into his mind, he had no doubt that this entity calling itself The Guardian could destroy him with just a thought.
“You shall be tested, Jerome,” The Guardian spoke as though its former outburst never happened. “And if you fail, you shall cease to exist!”
The room blurred and Jerome found himself standing in the center of the room with the podium. He blinked rapidly to orient himself and looked around to be sure of his safety. He raised his left hand to drop the memory crystal but the crystal had disappeared. Jerome looked down at his hand and found an intricately designed web of scripts running from the back of his hand up his wrist and disappearing into his vambrace.
He would have loved to take off his vambrace to see where the tattoo ended but The Guardian spoke up.
“The ‘Rei’ hsa’ is proof of your participation in the test,” The Guardian spoke inside his mind and Jerome guessed he was talking about the tattoo.
“You can speak inside my mind? Is that what the tattoo is… ‘Reihsa’?” Jerome asked.
“Not ‘Reihsa’... ‘Rei’ hsa’: it is proof of your participation. Rejoice, Jerome. For it is an honor to participate in this life-changing opportunity!”
Life-changing opportunity my ass. What if I die?! Jerome complained inwardly.
“This is your chance to inherit the last vestige of the ancient fae.”
Jerome felt a touch deep inside him and everything went blank. The next moment he was standing in a hall full of people.