With each step they made towards the chamber deep below the cathedral, led by the gentle stream of mana in the etheric rivulet of the converging leylines, Aurelithae overflowed with the thrill of battle blossomed by her draconic heritage. To face a great being like a primordial, it filled her in those short appearing moments with a purpose, a purpose which evaded her throughout her short eighty years of existence. Yet standing before the Beautiful in the sculpted vessel that once was her elder brother from a different mother made her feel conflicted.

New fronts of feelings battered against her. A deep desolation upon gazing at the form chiseled by their Magnificent Mother tainted by the wicked being whose envy towards Maehia was unending as she noticed the statue of the great deity broken into thousand pieces, yet reassembled crudely, mocking Her who was incapable of manifesting in the realm of Elhyrissian.

And a primeval fear instilled into all beings that came after the first beings upon standing before a creature not bound to flesh, merely needing it for proxy as even She had to abbey the decree of the Almodo, the oldest and greatest of all lifeforms within the infinite expanse of his dream. Her hands trembled weakly as cold predating the antiquities of all worlds wafted through her being, as she felt the distant gaze piercing through her body and soul at the same moment they faltered in their steps within the domed chamber.

Yet the thrill of the dragons triumphed over these assailing feelings as she tensed her shivering limbs and stepped forth. For a moment she glanced at her shoulder, feeling a touch devoid of coldness and warmth, firm yet gentle indicating the presence of her father. What she once feared, now empowered her against the creature of ancient times ignoring the presences of the others, allowing them to form a half circle as they planned out on their way here.

Only Naghig remained behind her, prepared to heal their wounds the moment Curia’s barriers falter against the power of a primordial forced to abide to the Laws of Elhyrissian. Without noticing it, the corners of her gleaming lips curved in excitement, and the notion of her fate beginning, unfolding at last blossomed in her mind as the motes of mana flocked into a serpentine line within her anima veins and marched towards all her seven arkhaine points.

As they cautiously circled around the Beautiful like a pack of wolves thirsting for the flesh of a great bear aware of the danger before them and the consequences of making the wrong move at the wrong time, Aurelithae furled and unfurled her fingers wreathed in translucent golden flames. Slowly it slithered up on her arm, her faux azure eyes glanced at the others.

First at Isocrates whose arms similarly cracked with purple thunder waiting to strike down at its target; then moved onto Vel whose body emanated a white mist searing the walls and ceiling behind and above him. Gnaeurian himself tightened his grip simply around his bejeweled long spear whilst his eyes darted up and down, back and forth betwixt himself and the Beautiful as he measured the distance and the necessary velocity, he needed to reach Her. Curia’s iron fur lit up in an ethereal glow whilst her hands locked together, her clawed fingers interlocked. Motes of Iuboron and Psioron matter filled the air, forming large bubbles around each of them.

Whilst her enthusiasm remained, her lids began to grew heavier and a mild nausea followed in its trails as each of them waited for the right moment to strike at the Beautiful who remained in the center, apathetic to their presence as if ants circled around the feet of a gargantuan human. The only being she noticed with mild anger and envy was the one standing unseen behind Aurelithae. Staring into the abyssal eyes, Aurelithae faltered her channeling as the terror of her first meeting with an Infaerni flooded her mind.

Her gasp reverberated through the room as a sphere of mauve flames with raging white trims hurled out of nowhere, heading towards her with the speed of soaring dragons. Though whilst it never impacted her tender, delicate form wreathed in illusory spells, inscriptions, the force of its supernatural explosion hurled her against the ancient walls sturdy since the day they were hewn out by the magusos. The shockwave and the impact sent nearly unbearable agonies through her, bringing her to the cusp of unconsciousness like the first time she came face to face with such a being.

Owing to Naghig’s swift reaction and the sturdy barrier of Curia capable of withstanding the blows of hill giants and even greater Daemurnus, she got away with the memory of the agony inked into her mind and wheezing as she grasped from air. “Quite the shame. But I’ll be able to cultivate talents like yours.” The Beautiful’s deep, melodious voice rang through their minds as she turned towards Curia.

Her last shriek echoed beyond the precipices of the chamber, traversed through the winding roads leading towards the surface. With her barrier shattered by the force with which the Beautiful passed through it, she hung in the air like a flayed animal, her throat crushed by the intense pressure of the marble white hands with fingers stretched beyond their natural length, tips painted a wicked, eminence purple.

Seeing their comrade’s corpse fell to the ground, Vel and Gnaeurian sprang into action. Slabs of ice sprouted forth the ground, crawling their way up towards Her ankles, binding Her in place. The listless expression mildly shifted as she hissed annoyed by the searing sensation, her divine tendon and skin sizzling beneath the thick, translucent layers. “Cheap trick.” She uttered whilst Gnaeurian’s spear ran through Her shoulder, from its shaft shackles sprouted and dug into her flesh, pouring inscriptions of Dawn into her vessel.

Her listless gaze turned towards Isocrates who remained in motion, supplying the two with further mana. For a moment she questioned the reasoning behind it, but soon lost interest in it and grabbed onto the spear and broke it cleanly off while breaking through the ice which charred her legs black as chiseled coal. Then as she fiddled the broken part between her long fingers, the piece vanished out from air and lodged into the chest of Vel who fell onto the ground motionless.

Her arm swept with an unnatural speed, turning before a haze of pink and purple as it advanced towards Gnaeurian’s head. The aurhe quickly ducked down, losing nothing more than a few of his silken locks swiftly swallowed by the taeberossian energies propelling the arm to unnatural rapidity. With a swift thrust, the broken spear once more found its way through the vessel after he sharpened its decrepit end through transmutation. A sibilant hiss poisoned by her frustration came from the lips, though before she could retaliate, crackling thunder lashed against her face, shattering off the flesh which fell in pieces like a crumbling pot.

Flames imbued with the holy essence of Dawn followed in toe, grappling onto her form and swallowing, melting her flesh revealing the yawning darkness within where her horridly mesmerizing form lingered. In a liminal space borne from the clashing of anima and primordial essence of the infaerni. They all froze gazing at the white marbly flesh surrounding the strange eye shape resembling an asymmetrical star filled to the brim with fluid mist of a dim purple, ruby and a golden ember blazing with anger at the absurdity of mortals.

The Beautiful did now waste this opportunity, vanished before clearness returned to the trio. “Regret the day you were taken from my flock boy.” Isocrates gasped in terror as her hands wrapped around his throat. His legs trembled, kicked and swung towards her in a futile effort to free himself. Aurelithae leapt into action, flames wreathing her arms, a cyclone of golden flames amassing in her throat instead of the name she wished to utter as a surge of emotions swept through her, including the same fear she felt on the day she faced the Infaerni preying on anger and wrath.

Yet not a single spark reached her. The sensation she felt in Proclus’s office returned in even greater force as she lost her footing and slid downwards. She hissed and groaned as her clawed nails bounced off, tearing her tender flesh whilst the yawning hole swallowed her whole. Isocrates watched, his arkhaine points in his arms flaring up with mana forming into the lightning escaping his body.

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“Resistance is futile.” The rising euphoria abruptly changed into an indescribable pain within his body, a sensation his petrified mind likened to molten lava poured into his mouth and guided through his veins. From within, he felt as the wicked energies of Taeberus flowing within The Beautiful flown out from her vessel, and ravenously began to alter his bodily fluids. Though the ailment did not stop even as gilded tears poured from his eyes and down his cheeks, spreading golden sickness onto his skin, flesh and bone. “Should have accepted my gift, I would have given you the fate He had taken from you. You could have had all your desires satisfied.”

Her voice faded as his mind escaped into its deepest recesses from the agonies of alteration. He walked in the ethereal realm, embraced the phantasm of his brother once more, and watched as he grew into a man before him. He stood beside the Golden Eyed Man and his brother; a strange soothing warmth lingered in his chest as his fingers wrapped around the soft hands of whom he recognized as their sister. The one who he may had truly loved in another time, in another place. The princess whose genial smile bathed him like the dawn stood before him, the moment devoid of the pain he felt when he witnessed the two secret lovers.

Though he seemed to be making a vow to her, the words were muffled as he felt a cold darkness approaching him, and felt the somber gaze aimed at him. A faint humming twinged his ears, and within this low melody he felt the remorse of The Solemn Shepherd whose cold, pale arms wrapped around his chest as his golden body shattered into a thousand pieces. “Fate is cruel and whimsical isn’t it.” The Beautiful murmured standing over the pile of dust.

**

After passing through the fluid, clammy darkness awaiting her at the bottom of the hole, Aurelithae found herself weightlessly floating just like within her dreams. For a moment the arduous day seemed nothing more than a nightmare, one ended by a childish joy she felt a long time ago. A memory which evaded her for decades, which only now returned strangely as she realized she wasn’t floating aimlessly, but was guided by the same hands which held her the first time the Illius shone onto her polychromatic scales.

Her lips moved and she spoke without words whilst a single tear flowed down her right cheek as she glanced the vague smile in the endless blackness aimed at her. Then a warmth spread as she noticed the hand belonging to the adolescent Sigi who came for her aid. His dark eye no longer stirred terror, but evoked a clarity of her mind, the kind smile of his eased her heart full of terror from the night she faced that horrid creature from Taerebus. Slowly, he took her to a pallid plateau of a strange rock where she landed by herself.

Slowly, Aurelithae turned and gazed up, searching for a way out as the memories surged her mind. A few times she tried to peer into the deeper layers of reality, to find a tear, a hole leading back to Elhyrissian, but each time she had to realize – she was far from home, far from the promised land. Though, she never moved from the center of the plateau, just stood, turned and gazed without being aware of her own, self-imposed immobility. Never she questioned it why her subconscious compelled her to stillness nor what knowledge it possessed not allow the seeds of her curiosity to bloom. Her rationale told her, there was nothing here except for this strange plateau and the utter silence which was broken only when an eternity passed in contemplation and oblivion.

Broken by the falling star of purple, golden and a brilliant ruby soaring through the emptiness all around her. A presence revoltingly familiar the more she gazed upon it. Then when it landed, she once more remembered the fear and anger which swept through her as she watched Isocrates grabbed by the throat and Naghig reaching his hand towards her in a vain effort to catch her before she fell into the warp in reality. “Or was it Mirayroth?” She questioned as the memory seemed to shift to a pale figure who seemed familiar.

Aurelithae faltered, for a moment came close to lose her balance which stirred a bizarre fear within her – namely a fear of floating away to be swallowed by the surrounding nothingness. Though invisible hands kept her upright and focused her mind on The Beautiful’s towering, delicate figure draped in a layered robe adjusting to her bewitching form as she slowly approached. A peculiar, gaudy robe worn only by the highest members from the echelons of existence itself. Hewn from a fabric of an etheric nature evident from the various regal shades shifting one after the other.

As The Beautiful drew closer, the fear and anger which returned faded with the same, queer suddenness. Her polychromatic eyes focused on the visage which gleamed with the combined brilliance of enameled plates; polished marble withstanding the cruelties of time and space; and tenderness of skin and flesh all painted by the erudite hand in a mesmerizing pure white. The lineaments perfectly aligned in a harmonious order, yet still accentuated the taciturn nature of the chiseled marvel gazing at her with a listless expression. Her newly borne devotion towards her new deity faltered not even as she noticed the unblemished skin alteration at the trims where it turned translucent with the refinedness of fireflies’ wings veiled by the long, naturally flowing hair blazing with the soothing spark of dawn.

“What a peculiar creature you are my little one.” The Beautiful relapsed into silence as her soft hand gently caressed her cheeks. Aurelithae trembled from joy as the graceful, magnificent being acknowledged her. “Makes me wonder why you? What was your fate before that enticed him so much?” Her strange eyes flared up for a moment, as she peered into the soul of Aurelithae, searching for the fate that shall not be. Then she smiled.

“Now I see.” The black wings protruding from her back stirred and lengthened, bathing Aurelithae in magnificent shadows as blissful essence of The Beautiful merged into hers. Her smile extended until the brilliant white flesh of her cheeks parted, whilst her voluminous, ordered hair stretched downwards the ethereal ground. As the long, clawed fingers with diamond nails dug into her flesh, memories seemed to fade, yet as they crumbled before her mind’s eye, she focused her gaze ever more on the brilliance staring at her.

First faded the image of Terrianis with a wide mirth, his lips uttering her name; then the day when she met her uncle who lifted her high, her laughter as she swirled closer to the sky became ever more distant. The murky, haggard face of young Isocrates crumbled, the day her healing hands touched and spread the taint of love onto his sweat and dirt leaden face crumbled before many other followed and with them the legions of feelings, good and bad went into the bottomless pit of nothingness as hatred, pride and a desire to be above all took their place. Though their departure, their voidness only lasted for a moment as she watched her own body collapse into a hoary mist of the prima materia from which the first creatures were formed by the Will of the Almodo.

For a moment she saw all those memories, felt all those sensation return and mingle with the new, before utter blackness occupied her vision, and a primordial scream echoed through the eternities…

**

By the time she came to herself, Aurelithae found herself back in the great hall of the cathedral. Down on her knees, she hissed sibilantly whilst she struggled against the pain of her knees pressed by the sturdy marble floor and by the headache of a million memories flowing, dancing within her mind as chaos had not yet been reigned in. As she slowly looked up, she witnessed all the mosaiced windows shattered, a sea of colorful powder lengthening across the curving section where she stood years ago.

She hissed and groaned and wheezed amidst a series of pains of her soul and body tearing itself, yet with her new found confidence she strived towards the simple act of straightening her legs bleeding blood and leaking the first matter used in the construction of souls. Though for a moment she sighed in relief as clarity calmed the storm raging in her mind, alternating snippets of memories from a time immemorial and from the early days of her infancy, she nearly collapsed back if not for the timely grasp onto the wooden pommel.

Slowly she meandered towards the great gate shut down, and as the memories and feeling attuned, Aurelithae slowly became aware of the eerie silence surrounding her. Whilst the walls and gate were thick, woven with runes filtering not just the heat generated by the beams of the Illius, but also lessened the unwanted noises – it still felt suffocating, distressing even. As she neared towards the gate, she began to question whether the distress came from the weakness of her limbs and or will and desire as she stood in the dimmer shadow of the gate.

She stumbled a few steps back and almost fallen onto the cold floor as the moaning of the gate reverberated throughout the hall. Her eyes squinted and as primordial chiming rang through her mind, panic set in as her lids became unbearably heavy and she collapsed into the firm hands of Albron…