Nýchta looked at the soldier with narrowed eyes and slowly slithered towards him while sheathing her dagger.
The small soldier quivered in place as she emerged from river and he winced as Nýchta coiled around him.
“Soldier… what is your name?” She whispered while her serpents took turns in hissing at him.
“Y-Y-Ypera.”
“Mmm… are you afraid?” Nýchta asked while trying not to smile at her enjoyment of this situation. At this point, the soldier was completely bound within her tail, shield, spear and all.
“Y-yes.”
“Afraid of what? That I will hurt you?”
The soldier nodded.
“And why would I want to do that?” Nýchta asked with a smile finally forming on her face but this only made the soldier, who called himself Ypera, tremble more violently.
“Boy! Did you find anything?” Yelled a voice from somewhere beyond the trees that hid the riverbank.
“Mmm…. I will spare you if you hand over that tasty looking rabbit and keep quiet about our little… meeting, understood?”
Ypera nodded and like that, Nýchta’s tail unravelled.
He then dropped his spear, much to Nýchta’s bewilderment and tossed her his waist bound rabbit before fleeing.
Nýchta caught the catch and chuckled lightly while quickly making her way into the river.
She hid behind a cluster of drowned trees and waited for Ypera’s return.
He eventually did only he was accompanied by a group of soldiers who looked far more battle hardened.
After scanning their surroundings for a moment and finding nothing, they all mocked and laughed at Ypera as he picked up his spear before accompanying him away. Although he gave the river one last glance as he left.
Nýchta let out a sigh and glanced at the river's other bank.
She swam to it and, after finding a dry patch, she gathered some damp twigs and placed them on top of each other.
[Fotiá, set the kindling ablaze.]
One of the eight streaks of light around her wrist shattered and from it can countless wisps of orange light which gathered around the kindling before quickly setting it on fire. However, although some were consumed during the creation of the flame, a few remained floating above it.
Nýchta nodded to herself before promptly skinning the rabbit and roasting it whole.
She then ate the animal while thinking of a way to get into the city.
She had deduced that the nearest entrance to the underworld, the top of a pillar, was nearby and possibly in the city but it was probably filled with people and so she thought about her next move carefully.
The pillars existed in circular layers that were spread beneath the world with there being five layers in total.
Nýchta’s home was in the Roots of the Ieródéntro beneath Olympus and so she would have to gain access to the first layer if not Olympus itself.
She bit her teeth as she realized that she would have to go the long way round and find the top of a pillar which wasn’t in the centre of a city and so she ate the rabbit before allowing her body to bathe in the faint heat of her little fire for a few moments.
She then put out the flame and made her way east in search of another entrance to the underworld.
.
..
Nýchta had been traveling from what felt like dozens of hours across the damp planes of Greece. She made sure to keep to the shadows, slithering through forests and tall grasses whenever she could.
However, sometimes she had no choice but to travel across wide open planes which were entirely covered in short grasses.
Nýchta was in one such plane and its relative flatness revealed to her a temple which stood atop a hill at the bottom of which was a small town.
She recognized the design of the temple, it was rectangular in structure and was made of large cylindrical marble pillars which held up the the roof, and saw that in order to enter it without frightening the townspeople below, she’d have to enter it via its western side.
She made her way towards the temple which was in far better shape than the one from which she emerged. It’s tall marble pillars still stood high although they were covered in a layer of moss.
As she approached, she heard what sounded like prayers coming from within the temple.
She cautiously slithered up the hill and saw countless people, on their knees, praying to a statue that stood at the forefront.
It was a ten meter tall metallic statue of a man who, strangely enough, did not have a nose. He held in his right hand a spear and a shield in his left. His eyes were hollow and his stance was like that of a man protecting something. His legs were placed firmly atop the pedestal on which he stood and his shield faced forwards. Also, painted onto his shield was a golden eagle which spread its wings triumphantly. Sitting on its head was a crown of ten streaks of light and clutched within its talons was a bolt of lightning.
Nýchta’s gaze fell to the large slab of marble behind the statue.
She then glanced at the people praying to the statue.
“Mmm…” She sounded quietly while allowing her thoughts to run freely.
She glanced at the town below and sighed.
[Fotiá, Set the fields below afire.] Nýchta said only to gasp as the seventh streak of light around her wrist shattered.
She worried that someone in the temple heard it but they were all still deep in prayer and so none of them turned to look.
Nýchta then watched as wisps of orange light made their way down the hill.
They then gathered by the grassy fields next to the town before setting them on fire.
It didn’t take long for people to notice and so they tried their best to put out the fire but at that point, the fire had grown far too widespread.
The panic eventually reached the temple in the form of a terrified man who begged everyone to stop praying and help.
Everyone then stormed out of the temple and rushed to go and try to put out the fires below
This was all Nýchta needed to see and so she cautiously entered the temple which now stood empty.
She slithered up to the statue and eyed the eerie fingerprint like lines that covered its surface. One line, however, stood out more than the others. A vertical line which went from the top of its head all the way down to its crotch.
[Greetings, Sentinel. I ask that you grant me passage.] Nýchta said in the same manner as when she casted spells. She spoke in an old tongue, which caused even her head serpents to react energetically.
She then reached for her daggers as purple lights suddenly appeared within the statues eyes.
That same light filled the lines which covered his body and this was followed by its head moving down to face Nýchta.
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[None may pass. Living or dead.] The statue said. Its voice so deep that it shook the temple.
Floating around its head was a crown of five streaks of light.
[That may be so but my home is below and I would love nothing more than to return.]
[None may pass. Living or dead.]
Nýchta bit her teeth.
She then took an extended breath before nodding.
[Alright, do you know of any other way?]
The Sentinel remained silent.
Nýchta glanced at the marble slab below and as the seconds passed, her breaths grew more and more frantic.
[P-please…] She muttered with trembling lips but again, the Sentinel did not move.
Nýchta squeezed her fists.
“I… I’m sorry but you have left me no choice.” She said while raising her tight hand.
[Agnófós, Grant me a spear of light!]
The sixth streak of light around her wrist shattered and it’s remnants gathered in Nýchta’s right hand as a spear of ever brightening light which she tossed at the Pillar Sentinel.
However, just as the spear of light rushed through the air, it tapped the ground with its spear, prompting the fifth streak of light above its head to shatter before rapidly forming a bubble of light around its body which made contact with the spear. This interaction seemingly nullified the effects of the spear and shattered the bubble but Nýchta wasn’t done.
She used four of her streaks to create four more spears of light which she threw at the Sentinel in rapid succession and, like before, it created bubbles for each one using the last of its streaks.
Nýchta then used her second last streak to throw another spear but the Sentinel blocked it with its shield, which shattered, before dashing towards Nýchta, its every step threatening to cause the collapse of the temple.
Nýchta bit her teeth as it swung it's massive bronze spear in her direction.
She knew she could not deflect the attack and so she slid past the Sentinel by crawling in between its legs where she tried cutting at the it's knees but her daggers uselessly bounced off their metallic surface.
She frantically crawled away just as the Sentinel stabbed the spot which she once occupied.
At this point, she was standing just in front of the marble slab.
She tried using her tail to push it aside but not only was it far too heavy, the Sentinel charged towards her again only this time, its spear was poised downwards.
Nýchta hissed at the Sentinel before deflecting the spear to the right by crossing her daggers and forcing the spear to the right. She then slammed the side if its head with her tail, making it stumble to the side.
This revealed to Nýchta a small hole atop the Sentinel’s head unfortunately there wasn’t much she could do in this moment since both of her arms had been broken and dislocated.
[Gaia, Heal my wounds!] She yelled just as the Sentinel swung its spear again.
She narrowly avoided decapitation by slithering beneath the spear and before the Sentinel could raise its arms, Nýchta crawled onto it and slithered up to his head before stabbing at the hole from before.
The Sentinel punched Nýchta in the tail but she continued forcing her daggers into the hole, making it wider.
The Sentinel then dropped its spear and grabbed Nýchta’s tail all while she tore its head open.
It then crushed her tail just as Nýchta split its upper body in half, revealing an ethereal purple thread of light in its centre.
Nýchta grabbed the squirming thread and pulled it as hard as she could before promptly shoving it into her mouth.
The Sentinel’s body the violently convulsed, letting go of Nýchta in the process.
It desperately searched for that which it once housed before reaching down to Nýchta.
It’s movements then came to an abrupt halt as the last of the light in its body faded.
Nýchta took deep and pained breaths as she lay beneath the Sentinel.
[G-ga...]
She tried saying but she was in so much pain that she could not maintain clear and cognitive thoughts.
Her vision then began to darken but just as it did, she slammed her left hand on the ground and this signalled the breaking of one of the new five streaks around her left wrist to shatter.
Wisps of green light then flooded into her body and she loudly gasped as her damaged flesh was repaired.
This, however, did not erase the pain she was in and so, as her bones slotted themselves back into position, she lost consciousness.
.
..
Nýchta awoke with a sharp cough.
She opened her eyes to find herself and the temple she was in covered in thick black smoke.
The air was also filled with the cries of distraught but mixed within those cries was a song. One of reverence.
Nýchta sat up and gasped upon seeing, standing next to the fallen Sentinel, a man who stood no shorter than three meters tall. Covering his body was a black gown which seemingly ate any light that dared approach him. It reached his wrists and draped down in a cascade of blackness. His hair, much like his gown, was long and black. Some of it was braided and at the end of those braids was the source of all the smoke. Silver rings from which poured thick clouds of smoke. The man even had some on all of his fingers which reached out to the Sentinel as he seemingly inspected it.
“Did you do this?” He wheezed. It sounded as though he was on the verge of coughing but that cough never came.
Nýchta remained silent and chose to instead bite her teeth. Her hands reaching for her daggers and her face a twisted scowl.
The man then turned around, revealing a pale, youthful face.
His gaze met with Nýchta’s and this alone made all of her movements stop.
His eyes did not have irises, only large pupils that was surrounded by a bright white glow that made Nýchta's heart tremble.
The man walked up to her while looking her over. His gaze made stops at her helmet, chest armour and daggers.
“I see.” The man muttered before turning to leave.
“Wait!” Nýchta cried all while fighting the urge to prostrate herself.
The man stopped.
A moment passed as the man stood but although Nýchta had many things she wanted to ask, she failed to speak.
"If you want to speak to me, visit my palace on the edge of Tartarus.” The man said before continuing his walk.
Nýchta wanted to chase after him as he walked into the now open entryway beneath the marble slab but she instead lowered her head and watched as her hands trembled.
The smoke eventually cleared, although the cries and songs of fear did not end. It’s here that Nýchta noticed that they were from the people who once prayed to the Pillar Sentinel. They coward at the steps of the temple with their hands and voices raised.
Their cries followed Nýchta as she slowly slithered to the entryway.
She then descended a wide staircase that led deep into the earth.
.
..
Nýchta travelled for so long and into such deep depths that the light from the above could no longer been seen.
It was all just ink blackness and it accompanied Nýchta as she moved.
A certain sound then began to fill the air.
Nýchta’s eyes eventually caught sight of a pale distant light and the further she moved, the brighter it grew.
She eventually arrived at a grand hallway which was lined with broken statues and ruined dark stone floors.
She eventually arrived at the hall’s exit and, like a gust of wind, the sound from before struck her at its loudest.
Hanging before here, from the very bottom of the world, was the abandoned city of Palióspíti which was built long before the first kingdoms of men were even conceptualized and swirling beneath was the ocean of souls which fell into Tartarus.
Nýchta paid the grand architecture around her little mind as she walked past countless massive but empty gardens, palaces and temples.
Her heading was west and she did not stop, even as all manner of things scurried and crawled within the shadows.
She eventually reached the western outskirts of Palióspíti.
This region was far more simple in design than the regal inner city.
The paths were made of crude stone stairs that sat along steep edges and if one slipped, they would simply fall into Tartarus where they would burn and die. Their soul would then leave their body and they would burn again.
Nýchta navigated a series of long paths that lined the hard rock surfaces that made the bottom of the world for some time before eventually arriving at a temple only its entrance looked like it had been blown apart.
She entered it and dropped her daggers upon seeing, crouched in front of a cracked stone anvil at the centre of the temple, the body of a boy only it was made of platinum.
She moved towards him but came to a stop upon seeing the hole at the centre of his chest. This revealed his mechanical insides.
Nýchta horrified gaze then crawled to two burnt corpses that laid in front of him. One belonging to a boy who's wings had been charred to the bone and the other to a girl who's body was about two meters talk.
She then curled forward, removed her helmet and vomited what little contents her stomach held all while tears fell from her eyes.
Any sound she tried making was more akin to pained, choking.
She slowly crawled towards the Golden Child and, upon reaching him, she gently pushed him to the side before wrapping her arms and tail around the two burnt children.
She then wept harder and even louder than she ever had in her entire life.
She wept for so long that her voice eventually left her and her tears dried, leaving her only with pained wheezes and an aching heart.
.
..
Nýchta opened her tired eyes after an unknown amount of time had passed.
She looked at the faces of the two children and, after taking a deep breath, she got up with both of them in hand and made her way towards the back of the temple where a door could be found.
The door led into a hallway which was lined with four doors.
Nýchta entered the first door to the right. It led into a room which had a single bed and a table which was covered in scrolls and stone tablets.
She gently placed the children onto the bed before covering them with an old blanket which bore the crest of the sun.
She then returned to the main part of the temple where her gaze caught sight of a burnt wooden mask which depicted the face of a woman.
She picked it up, looked around at the ash covered temple walls and sighed before placing it next to the body of the Platinum Child.
At this point, her eyes were half closed and her head and chest were screaming in pain.
She removed her chest piece and the under armour beneath before making her way out of the temple.
She then slithered to the edge of the platform which held up the temple along with the stairs that led to it and looked down.
Burning violently beneath were the fires of Tartarus.
Nýchta squeezed her fists before uncurling them.
She sat by the edge, allowing her tail to hang off the ledge by little.
Thoughts of the past then flooded her mind.
She placed her left hand above her heart as it painfully raced and then, after taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to fall and as she did, fresh tears came.
It’s through these tears that Nýchta saw a blurry glimpse of a dark palace that sat on the edge of Tartarus, atop a jagged black cliff.
Her face twisted as she fell deeper into the fiery depths below.
A place where tortured titans and fallen gods roamed.
But, even as she fell into the nightmarish place, Nýchta’s face twisted further and her eyes burnt with hatred.
She then realized all too late that she had made a mistake.
Those who took everything away from her still lived and if she died, they would continue to do so and so cursed them as she fell.
A curse that they would one day die by her hands.