Where am I? I remember laying down in the silken embrace of my sheets my handmaidens tucked me into as always. I remember the tender sinking feeling of my soft bed pulling me downwards until I found myself in the precipice of the waking world and Oneiron. The weightlessness still chuckled me as I found myself floating in the endless darkness with a distant glow akin to the Illius floating in the endless vista. A color I have only seen in the many dreams that have flown back into my mind for the past five years. A color that shone brightly yet, failed to vanquish the darkness of the void between and beyond realms. A color that seemed to call out to me in its own silent way.
Then instead of arriving in the usual realm of ours, where we built the great pyramid of Khadath with its pointy silver top reaching the endless blackness stretching into the boundless eternity, I became aware of the crushing waves of unseen waters below myself. A fear of being swallowed by these waters gripped my heart, yet it faded when the falling of my astral form changed into floating. Floating on the smooth, undisturbed, feral surface of a primordial sea, ocean of a realm forbidden to mortal kindred.
As the waves of neither cold nor warm swept through my soul, I felt each particle, each mote conveying knowledge long lost or never delivered upon crawl into my mind. Knowledge that yet had to be deciphered as I felt uncomfortable suddenly. One bordering on the fear of lacking in perception, born of a primeval intuition hammered into us by the Deossos when they shaped our new, perfected forms. The survival instinct of a shipwrecked sailor carried by the chaotic waves of a chaotic ocean in which abyss, strange horrors lurk with a sense tied to the currents of the oceans… like wind carrying the scent of freshly baked fruit laden cake.
I felt such a horror suddenly, lurking and slithering beneath my soles. A fear which not abated even as I focused, soothed my mind, wishing and willing distance between myself and what I could not see, but feel. Minutes passed, hours lapsed, days meandered, weeks rushed, months soared in this state of ours before the I felt the end nearing. An end that registered more as the Solemn Shepherd presence nearing me to take me to the gray city of Asphodai rather than me nearing the threshold between this realm and the waking world where I shall open my eyes, staring at the wooden and silken roof of my bed.
My only compass, the distant light of a strange color. My star, my moon, my Illius and my guiding Lunarius beckoning to safety from a realm I am must assured was never meant to be witnessed, experienced by any mortal – be it me or even Father, and his father, and his father’s father, the greatest of mortal kindred who walked the realms. Yet as I neared it, I felt an allure towards what lurked beneath, one of a morbid kind as I knew there was no escaping It, and might as well see what may be my end.
A choice I regretted and not at the same time as I slowly turned, with a strange sense of direction, aware fully of where It was, where Its three shining eyes gazed into mine…
**
Aurelithae slowly stirred forth the strange dream. The sheets of dawn golden, ashen red and polished obsidian slipped off her form. She gently rotated her legs towards the edge, though before she rose back onto her feet she stopped suddenly, her gaze focused on the small spire of books containing the diary of her sister Moirstyria which guided her onto her current path, and which like the black grimoire found its way into her hands through strange circumstances.
Though in recent years she paid little attention to it as her mind focused on myriad questions regarding her future. Questions which all pointed towards the Chosen soon to be taken back here, into the embrace of the capital. Which was why she burned within with the desire to finally end the terror brought upon it by the cult and their leader, whose name she had read in the diary. The last entry as she recalled it perfectly, where Moirstyria wrote a single page on her encounter with the Beautiful.
A page which offered little explanation into the weakness of the Infaerni besides the protection of the Deossos. A protection she was unsure of whether she possessed at all, her only hope being the knowledge within the grimoire of an eerie, black hardcover with its pages containing knowledge of a power not meant for mortals. Yet whilst that power did not evoke the same, multifarious euphoria of maghia, the power it given her felt even better, even more tempting.
Tempting enough that she found a way to bring it within the boundaries of Oneiron. Where she shared it with Sigi, leading to practices that lasted years, decades in the realm of dreams. And to the birth of a strong friendship between the two, born of their enjoyment, thrill in regards of the knowledge dancing esoterically on the pages. Pleasant decades passed in the realm of dreams where the two studied together, free of the woes ailing them in the waking world.
Which led to the gaping pain, as if she was ridden of an organ ailing her after stirring in the usual hour. Or was it the usual hour, came the question when she noticed the vividness of reality all around her, beyond the precipices of the shadows lingering in her room. An ominous feeling came over her as she thought back onto Proclus’s warning. Yet when she stared out her window and watched as the handmaidens and Impirith Praetoriir minded their own business, ignoring the weirdness of reality, she felt confused.
Was it an after effect of staring down, the result of her instinct overruling her common sense? Her lids closed down as she began to take deep breaths, cleansing her mind and surveying the surroundings, and the deeper, unseen layers of reality. She abruptly lost her balance, her heart skipped a couple beats, losing conscience for a mere second while clammy shivers trembled her body. “I have to go.” She whispered to herself, hurrying towards her wardrobe while still panting from the touch of the primeval essence of the Beautiful, creeping across the capital, reaching up to her home.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
**
A sweet, tantalizing scent spread within the dim catacombs stretching beneath the Grand Cathedral, built by the first magusos who established the Order of Maghia’s Truth, in the days when they only revered the Magnificent Mother of aevhen kindred, the one who shaped them into their perfect, faultless forms. Winding roads reached far across the mountain, serving as an escape route and used to regulate the flow of mana pouring forth the nexus beneath the Grand Cathedral.
As ages passed, this regulation evolved into branching. Many of these branches connect and empower the sewage system’s cleansing and control of the water’s flow itself; the Greigor Gates connecting the levels and the barrier which surrounds the city, protecting against possible incursion of hostile dragons of the House of Dusk and Chaos. “Do you truly believe your rule shall last forever?” The Beautiful said as she stood in the shadow of the great statue erected by the ancient magusos when they began to dig further into the mountain.
Here where they felt the condensation of mana the strongest, they built a magnificent statue to Maerhia, recreating her divine beauty through the shaping, molding of basalt – one of the three divine stones, formed from the carcasses of great dragons – polished until it gained a sheen of brilliance akin to the Illius, the greatest mana giant within the boundaries of Elhyrissian. On top of that, they augmented the statue with the rarest of arkhaine crystals imbued with spells to lessen the poisonous presence of the dense mana within the carved-out section.
“And shall yours’ last till reality crumbles into dust?” The Beautiful turned around calmly, her eyes listless yet genial towards the Dark Stranger approaching her, speaking in the raspy, deep voice in a mirthless tone. “I shall after I finally open their eyes, after I reveal their… our lies.”
The Dark Stranger remained still like the statue before them. “What if they shall not care of your truth? What if the Elhyrissiar proves beyond you?” This time a sonorous timbre rumbled the room, rumbled her primordial essence of pride, of excessive divine-worth. For the first time in an eternity, she felt unsure. An agonizingly long moment before she mustered her strength, imposed her will upon the world using the authority granted by her birth, by her breaking away from the Almodo and taking shape, taking a name and carving out her own demesne.
“They shall have no choice. That was our mistake the first time, that is their mistake and why He managed to inflict such destruction upon creation. Choice is ours, and ours only shall it be, don’t you think so, my friend?” She asked, but when she turned the Dark Stranger was no more, only the statue smiling at her, while the tender shadow spread over her vessel.
**
The bright light of the small faux sun vanquished the shadows across the whole oval throne room. Terrianis blankly stared at it, yet his eyes trailed after Aurelithae awakening, staring at a vacant spot in her room where every object, wall, ceiling, roof and window appeared more vibrant than before. A spot which poked at his patience as he felt something there.
He sensed a faint essence – old and revolting to his sixth sense inherited by his draconic ancestry – lingering, swirling mockingly as if whoever placed it there knew of his tendencies regarding his daughter who shall one day inherit his title and power just as he did with his father. Yet no matter how much he forced, no matter how strong he desired to peer through the veil placed over such an inconsequential segment of the room, a will and desire predating his own molded by the Deossos halted his efforts.
Efforts which he placed above beating back the Beautiful’s taint spreading across the capital, bringing the millions whom he swore to protect a thousand or so years ago to protect and guide towards an eternity of prosperity and peace. Now they toiled, and fall to the primordial charm of the corrupting spirit who hungered for those like him, fated to be confident and always sure of themselves.
Like Rhenathorhia who walked straight into the claws of this malevolent spirit, unaware that his ambition, his desire to prove himself in the eyes of Angura were not the benevolent ingredients of ascension into the annals of history, but a poison that slowly tainted and beckoned the wicked spirit that should have been sealed by his older sister. A process he himself followed whilst Aurelithae was still occupied with her royal studies, one he wished to stop, but when she moved out suddenly, just like he once did, Terrianis decided to entertain the possibility of chaos, of introducing a little bit of discord just as another failed rebellion against their rule was forming.
If worse comes to worst like on this fateful day, he vowed to step in and banish The Beautiful back to her place in the dark realm she spawned in. For now, a part of his attention focused on Aurelithae who now stared through her window, her calm expression faultlessly veiling the realization of the danger hanging over Luth-Astaril. “Let us see what you shall do. Will you be strong enough to make the necessary sacrifices to ensure victory?” He whispered to himself whilst his gaze moved onto the lake from which the marble platform arose, watched as little etheric tadpoles swam in the bottomless lake.
Etheric tadpoles which one by one turned from a brilliant white into a sinister purple sprinkled with a revolting golden. Even their odorless state altered, now a sickly saccharine and pungent odor spread across his throne room whilst the silence was broken by insidious whispers beckoning him to relinquish his claim and his power granted upon him, his father and his grandfather by the heavens and those who came before.
“The nerve!” Chunks of his throne fell onto the floor as his claws dug deep, impeded by the Nature’s Law of Strength decreed upon the marble. His voice gradually poisoned by his mild irritation towards the suggestion of the wicked whispers. At once, the etheric tadpoles in the lake began to shift in color as he lashed out against the Beautiful…