Fear not souls of the damned
For there is a home for the likes of you
The underworld sings to the hearts of the lost
Its melody irresistible to those it holds true
-Excerpt from the book of lost souls
As Rhea emerged from the prophet's hut, she was greeted with a sense of relief upon observing that everything appeared to be in order. The sun shone in the clear blue sky, casting a golden glow upon the lush foliage that surrounded her. In the distance, Remuria stood beneath the shade of a tree, gazing intently into the horizon.
"Remuria, I'm so sorry to have kept you. Were you waiting for a long time?"
"No, not at all. You were only gone for a few minutes," Remuria replied in her usual manner, but her eyes betrayed concern.
"Where's the prophet?" she asked, scanning Rhea's face for any sign of distress.
"They are no longer with us."
"The prophet disappeared?"
"Yes, they... faded away. I'm not sure how to explain it."
"Faded away? What happened while you were inside?"
"The prophet showed me visions of the gods, of Vhael, and of your history,"
Remuria took a step back, surprised at Rhea’s words. "What did you see?"
Rhea took a deep breath before answering. "Enough to know that you are the daughter of the late Goddess Ixhana, and that she passed shortly after your birth."
"I never had the chance to really know my mother." Remuria muttered out, her gaze falling to the ground.
Rhea sensed Remuria's pain and spoke with care. "Even though you didn't have much time with her, I can tell she was a wonderful person from the glimpses I've seen of her."
Remuria nodded, her voice tinged with melancholy. "My father would often tell me stories about her, especially how she saved him during one of the wars in heaven. That's how they first met."
"I'm sure she was the one who made the first move." Rhea said with a light-hearted smile, hoping to steer the conversation to a more relaxed tone.
Remuria chuckled, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Correct. Maybe our family has a talent for attracting clueless lovers." She teased Rhea, her smug grin lighting up her face
Rhea's cheeks flushed red as she stuttered, "I...well...maybe." Remuria, quick to reassure her, patted her back gently. "I'm just joking, Rhea."
"Just you wait, I'll get you back one day." Rhea said with a small laugh.
Remuria gave out a smug grin, "I look forward to it."
"At any rate, I still don't know what to do next. Meeting the prophet has only left me more confused."
“Maybe we should make our way back to the palace and reveal your presence."
Rhea appeared hesitant, "I’m not sure about that, there’s a chance I may not be received as well as hoped."
Remuria reassured her, "If anything goes wrong, I have a plan. We can escape to the underworld."
"What? Can we really do that?"
"Yes, I can. But returning to the material realm may be a challenge."
Rhea paused for a moment, considering her options. She was certainly not eager to head to the underworld: a place she was told all her life only knew endless suffering. Yet, she could not help but wonder if it would be any worse than facing the scrutiny and judgment of the Ishgrian People, or worse: the King and Queen. "I suppose we have no choice. Let's hope for the best." the princess said aloud, donning her mask once again.
Rhea and Remuria mounted their horses, tightening the saddles with practiced ease. As they began their journey towards the capital, they couldn't help but feel uneasy as the landscape grew increasingly desolate. Normally, they would have expected to encounter another traveler or two, perhaps even a caravan making their way to the capital. Yet, there was nothing.
The pair rode on in eerie silence, which was only punctuated only by the sound of their horses' hooves against the ground. When the two travelers actually did encounter some other people: they were bandits. Rhea and Remuria reacted quickly, drawing their own weapons and fighting back the low-lives with ease.
Yet, as the pair continued on their journey, they encountered more and more bandits and wandering thugs. Each one seemed more desperate than the last, leaving Rhea and Remuria on edge. They were ambushed three times in one day, an unprecedented level of aggression that left them both on high alert. The bandits were becoming far too brazen than what was normal. The pair began to wonder if perhaps there was something going on in the capital.
Their fears were confirmed when they stumbled upon a caravan of refugees, stretching for miles, trying to make their way away from the capital. The sheer number of people fleeing was staggering, and it was clear that something was amiss. Rhea and Remuria exchanged a worried glance, knowing that they needed to uncover what was happening.
Remuria rode ahead, her horse slowing down as she approached the massive caravan of refugees. Her heart sank as she saw the faces of the people, their eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. Everyone seemed to be wary and desperate. Many could only carry their belongings on foot using large sacks.
Rhea followed closely behind, her gaze scanning the multitude of people as they rode through the crowded caravan. She saw people of all ages, from small children clinging to their parents' hands to elderly individuals who looked weary and exhausted. The princess's heart ached as she realized the suffering that these people must have endured as to be so desperate to abandon their homes. Farmers and merchants, artisans and laborers: no matter their background or socioeconomic status, all seemed eager to flee.
The princess observed with keen interest as Remuria approached a middle-aged woman, who was tending to her children playing in the dirt. The peasant woman was scolding her son, who was playing tag with his brother a few paces away.
Remuria approached the frazzled woman with a friendly and curious tone. "Excuse me, madam, may I ask where you all are headed?" she inquired. The woman appeared as if she were exhausted more so by her son's antics than the long journey she was undertaking.
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The woman was too busy scolding her son to notice Remuria, "Oi Martin, ya little snot nugget, if I see you tackle your brother one more time I'm gonna smack your arse redder than tomato soup."
"Um, madam?" Remuria tried asking again, hoping to get the woman's attention.
The woman snapped out of her reprimand and replied, "Ah, my bad there missy, my kid's just being an absolute pain, I wish the gods gave the little bugger some more manners."
Remuria brushed off the woman’s words and pressed on. "It is fine, I just wanted to ask where you all were headed."
The woman, seeming dismissive at first, spoke with a surprisingly gentle voice. "Ya been travellin’ for long missy?"
Remuria nodded, and the woman let out a sigh. "Explains a lot, count yerself lucky," she muttered.
"How so?"
“Did you know that his majesty King Hadaron passed?”
Remuria's eyes widened in surprise at the woman's words. "No, I haven't heard," she admitted.
"Ya really know nothin', huh?"
"Pardon my ignorance, madam, I haven't stopped in a single town or even a village for weeks."
The woman let out a small chuckle, unused to being referred to so formally. "Just drop the madam, missy, call me Hannah."
"Sorry, force of habit," Remuria apologized.
"It's fine," Hannah said, "so ye said ya didn't know about the king's passing?"
"No, I was not aware," Remuria confirmed.
"After the king died, word spread quickly. It didn't take long before the civil war began." Hannah’s words lingered longer at the mention of war. Only now did Remuria notice that Hannah had a tattoo of the Ishgrian Falcon on her left hand: it was tradition in Ishgria for the spouses of soldiers to bear the mark of the falcon: it was a respected symbol which carried great prestige. Though Remuria could not help but wonder if the mark only served to eat away at Hannah’s conscience now.
Despite her concerns, Remuria pressed on,“ this all happened in a few weeks?”
"Aye, missy, Queen Phaedra herself has already abandoned the capital and fled north."
"I see, thank you for the information, ma- Hannah."
"Gods be with ya, missy."
Remuria nodded to Hannah before turning her attention to the other travelers within the caravan. She asked them about the current state of Ishgria, and their responses were all too similar. They all spoke of the king's death and the subsequent outbreak of civil war that left many homeless and destitute.
As she spoke to each person, Remuria took note of their expressions. The burden of both the king’s death and the civil war weighed heavily on the conscience of the average Ishgrian, and it showed in the eyes of everyone she spoke to.
Eventually, Remuria mounted her horse once more and trotted back to Rhea with a heavy heart. Things had taken a significant turn for the worse.
“So did you manage to find out anything?” Princess Rhea asked anxiously as Remuria rode up to her on her horse.
Remuria stopped her horse just in front of Rhea’s, her expression grave. “Yes, the king is dead, and Ishgria is in civil war.”
Rhea bit her lip, “I knew that something like this could happen, but to think it would happen so soon.” she muttered out.
“You think your relatives had anything to do with the civil war?”
“My uncles, cousins, and aunts? Almost definitely. They never liked the authority of the Ishgrian throne, all of them had their own territory and levies.”
“So now that the king is dead, they believe that they can seize power for themselves?”
“I don’t doubt it. Even though I should be the rightful ruler of Ishgria, I do not have the strength to fight them off.”
“If it’s an army you need, I know where we could raise one,” Remuria mentioned, looking directly at Rhea.
“Remuria, don’t tell me,”
“It’s exactly as you think, Rhea. We can raise an army from the underworld.”
Rhea cocked an eyebrow, “I mean no offense, but is the underworld not filled with demons, banshees, and the restless dead?”
“Indeed it is,” Remuria admitted, “but there are also those who are more human in their appearance, it is they who we can rally to our cause.”
“But how? Even if we did manage to get some to follow us, you said yourself that returning from the underworld would be difficult.”
“Many would be keen to join us on account of the underworld being a terrible place to live in. And returning to the material plane, while difficult, would not be impossible,” Remuria explained.
“I suppose that’s fair, but how do we ensure the loyalty of those we recruit from the underworld?” Rhea asked with a worried frown.
“It is simple, you will show them that you are worth following,”
“And how will I do that?”
“Most denizens of the underworld respect strength, display yours, and half the battle is already won,” Remuria answered, placing a reassuring hand on Rhea's shoulder.
“I don’t know, Remuria, I do not think I would be a match for any demon if they are all as strong as you are,” Rhea admitted with a hint of fear in her voice.
“Oh please, they wish they’re anywhere close to me. I’ve seen your strength, Rhea, short of the very elite, you should easily be able to best any demon who challenges you,”
“If you say so,” Rhea replied hesitantly, still unsure.
“So, are you ready, Rhea?”
“I am, what do I need to do?”
“Let’s head further away from the caravan first, to where no eyes will be on us.”
The two women rode their horses towards an empty clearing, where there were only rocks and shriveled up trees. A perfect location to avoid prying eyes.
“We should be safe here, brace yourself, Rhea,” Remuria warned.
Rhea complied and braced herself on her horse. Remuria began to chant a spell, and Rhea saw as dark green flames burst from her palm. The princess watched in awe and horror as both her and Remuria’s stallion's brown flesh turned to charred black: seemingly devoured by the strange flames.
“What have you done? Is my horse dead?” Rhea gasped, staring at the burning green flames that now consumed her horse's mane and licked at their surroundings.
“Your horse is fine, Rhea. I have just granted him a bit of extra strength,” Remuria explained with a sly grin playing on her lips.
Rhea was nearly stunned, the princess could not help but be fascinated at what she saw, “Very interesting, Remuria, what did you do?”
“I merely prepared our horses so they can traverse the underworld,” Remuria replied matter-of-factly.
“I see, so what now?”
“Brace, again.”
Remuria let out a piercing whistle, and her horse's eyes widened as if possessed by some otherworldly force. The stallion reared up on his hind legs, kicking the air with an almost frenzied vigor, before charging forward with an electrifying energy. Rhea's horse responded in kind, sensing the sudden surge of power and the rush of adrenaline coursing through its veins. The two horses raced faster and faster until it felt as if they were flying. Then, as they approached a swirling vortex of darkness, reality itself seemed to split apart, and the horses plunged into an endless, inky abyss.
Within seconds, Rhea and Remuria had entered a place that seemed to be a parody of the material realm. The skies above were pitch black, devoid stars, and only a fiery red moon glared down at them with its wrathful gaze. The ground beneath them was an endless expanse of pale sands that seemed to stretch into infinity. Towers of jagged, blackened brimstone loomed in the distance, their twisted spires reaching towards the sky as if trying to claw their way out of the dark abyss. A chill ran down Rhea's spine as she gazed upon the eerie landscape that surrounded her.
“Welcome to my home, Rhea.”