Rhea and Remuria stepped forward, their hearts pounding with anticipation, as they prepared to confront the colossal dragon. Standing a few dozen feet away, Zia, Sedris, and the other Red Reavers formed a protective circle around the behemoth, their hands tightly gripped their wraithbone weapons, while their scarlet eyes remained fixated on the dragon's every breath, awaiting its next move.
Yet, the dragon appeared oblivious to their presence, its massive form motionless and unresponsive. Intrigued, Rhea and Remuria inched closer, as they did so, they noticed a peculiar sight: the dragon’s eyes, although open, were veiled by a peculiar haze, as if a dense membrane had inserted itself between the vibrant iris and the surface of the eye. Rhea and Remuria exchanged a silent glance. With a nod from Rhea, Remuria mustered the courage to speak.
"O mighty Krithosos, hear my words!"
In response, Krithosos emitted a brief, dismissive snort, as if to acknowledge their presence but not their plea.
Turning to Rhea, Remuria suggested, "Perhaps you should give it a try?"
Rhea arched an eyebrow skeptically, but shrugged her shoulders, "alright, here goes nothing.”
With determination pulsating in her voice, Rhea called out, "great dragon, can you not hear us?"
Once again, Krithosos remained unresponsive, oblivious to their efforts. "This dragon's lack of presence is truly underwhelming," Rhea said, her disappointment evident in her tone.
Remuria nodded in agreement, her frustration mounting. "Indeed. How are we to gain the favor of a dragon that can barely awake itself?"
Suddenly, a thunderous rumble erupted, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Krithosos, gradually rousing from its dormant state, slowly lifted its massive head, fixing its gaze upon the two seemingly insignificant figures before it.
"What do you want?" Krithosos bellowed, his thundering voice laden with an air of annoyance.
Rhea and Remuria stood still, momentarily caught off guard by the dragon's blunt response. Uncertain of how to proceed, Remuria found her voice first, gathering her courage to address the dragon.
"Greetings, Krithosos, my companions and I humbly beseech your aid in unlocking the gate that stands behind you." Remuria said, dropping into a respectful bow.
"The gate? You may use it as you wish," Krithosos thundered, his words dripping with indifference.
Once again, Rhea and Remuria found themselves utterly perplexed, their minds racing to comprehend the dragon's words. Uncertain of how to react, they exchanged bewildered glances.
"Really?" Rhea exclaimed, “you're simply going to allow us to use the gate?"
"I have no use for it, and I fail to see any reason why I should impede you and your companions from utilizing it."
"Thank you, noble dragon, for your kindness." Remuria said.
"If that is all, I shall make way so you can pass through the gate," Krithosos murmured weakly, his strength waning. "But do make it swift, for I find solace in slumbering in its presence."
"May I ask, great dragon, why are you so…ill?" Rhea asked.
Krithosos sighed, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I know not why. It occurred suddenly, as if the heavens themselves turned against me. One moment, I soared freely through the boundless skies, and the next, agony consumed me as my wings felt as though they had been mercilessly torn asunder."
Rhea pressed further, determined to understand. "Do you have any inkling as to who might be responsible for this affliction?"
Krithosos snorted dismissively. "The underworld, of course. Who else possesses such malevolence?"
Remuria's curiosity couldn't be contained as she voiced her question. "What have you done to earn the ire of the underworld?"
"I do not know, nor do I care," Krithosos replied bluntly, his words tinged with resignation.
"Ever since I was condemned to this realm, I have been nothing but a pawn, subjected to the whims of the underworld, just like all of you," he said, his eyes piercing into Rhea and Remuria.
Stunned by the dragon's unexpected words, Rhea and Remuria stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Assuming their silence as a signal to end the conversation, Krithosos bellowed, "I shall assume your silence means our discussion has concluded. Now, proceed and make use of the gate. Waste no more time."
Rhea and Remuria exchanged meaningful glances, their eyes conveying a shared understanding and purpose. With subtle yet purposeful gestures, they beckoned the rest of the Red Reavers to join them, their movements resembling an intricate dance of silent coordination.
Soon, the Red Reavers fell into formation, their footsteps echoing with determined resolve as they trailed behind Rhea and Remuria. Before them stood an awe-inspiring sight: an ancient gate, crafted from a mysterious combination of shimmering wraithbone and carved stone, the gate reached skyward, its height towering far above them. Etched upon its surface were arcane symbols, their origins lost to time, their glowing lines pulsating with a gentle luminescence that flickered as if whispering secrets to those who dared to approach.
As the Red Reavers neared the gate, they felt a tingling sensation in the air. The gate's surface shimmered with a soft iridescence, as if veiled by a gossamer veil of otherworldly energy. It seemed to emanate a faint, melodic hum, drawing them closer with its enchanting melody.
“So how are we supposed to operate this thing?” Zia asked out loud.
"I must admit, the mechanics of such devices elude me. I lack familiarity with their workings." Sedris confessed.
Zia's impatience ignited, her gaze piercing Sedris with a scathing look. "I wasn't speaking to you, you, brother."
Krithosos, growing weary of the ceaseless bickering of these diminutive beings beneath him, interjected, "Enough with your petty squabbles. If you seek knowledge, then listen. One of you must gather the courage to step forth and venture through the gate. Envision your desired destination, and the gate shall open to that location for a limited time."
"Well, I must say, I'm starting to warm up to this dragon," Zia said with a smug smile.
"We extend our heartfelt thanks, noble dragon." Sedris said.
A dismissive snort escaped Krithosos's nostrils as he retorted, "your gratitude means naught to me. Now, proceed: the time for action has arrived."
“I’m going in first!” Zia exclaimed, rushing towards the gate. The second she stepped foot on the large structure, she vanished completely: consumed by a red light.
“Zia, Wait!” Sedris sighed, “I’ll follow her,” he relented, slowly walking towards the gate as well.
One by one, the other members of the Red Reavers followed suit, their curiosity and loyalty pushing them forward.Rhea and Remuria, however, exchanged a knowing glance, they couldn't help but chuckle softly at what they saw.
“You first?” Rhea offered, dropping to a mock bow.
“Why I’d be honored.” Remuria replied with a smile.
***
As the group reached the crest of what appeared to be a hill, a scene unfolded before their eyes that defied all of their expectations. The once vibrant blue sky had transformed into a chasm of inky blackness, akin to the shadowed firmament of the underworld. The sun's radiant warmth had been usurped, replaced by the feeble glow of a pallid moon.
In the distance, a sprawling array of buildings came into view, their forms twisted and contorted under the insidious grip of sinister tendrils. These dark appendages clung to the structures with an insatiable hunger, as if their purpose was to distort and deform.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"This... This is the material realm? It bears an uncanny resemblance to the underworld." Zia said out loud, scratching her head.
Sedris affirmed Zia's observation, "Indeed, I must confess, there is an unsettling familiarity in this landscape."
Rhea's brows furrowed with concern, "this cannot be right. The portal must have malfunctioned, distorting our intended destination."
"No, Rhea, this is indeed Ishgria. The air bears a different taint, distinct from the underworld's malevolence. Though I must admit, Ishgria doesn’t look nearly as good as I remembered" Remuria said, her eyes scanning her new environment.
"This place looks like shit,” Zia said, casually walking about.
Sedris was about to correct Zia, but upon further consideration, he sighed, “despite my sister’s…peculiar delivery, she’s right, this place does seem…decrepit, even by the standards of the underworld.”
"In that case, we should go ahead and explore, see for ourselves what’s happened here." Remuria said.
As the group ventured deeper into the desolate landscape, they became more unnerved by what they saw. Once vibrant flora and fauna had withered into twisted, gnarled remnants of their former glory. Jagged, skeletal trees stood like sentinels, their leafless branches reaching skyward like accusing fingers pointing towards the darkened skies. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional mournful howl of a distant wind. Buildings that loomed on the horizon, once symbols of life and human endeavor, had become macabre monuments to decay. Their crumbling facades marred by webs of shadowy tendrils.
An oppressive atmosphere weighed upon the group, clinging to their skin like a suffocating shroud. Their breaths became shallow, as if each inhalation carried the weight of the foreboding reality that surrounded them. The very air seemed tainted, heavy with an otherworldly miasma that threatened to infect their spirits.
And then, they saw the first of the chimeras.
***
I am the eyes to things unseen
I am the voice for words unspoken
I am the path to secrets left undiscovered
I am the prophet, and if you wish to live, you shall heed my words
-Words of the Prophet of Ishgria
Recent events have been interesting, haven’t they? I’m excited to see how things play out myself. The underworld has set the stage for something never before seen both in the realm of the living and the dead. It will be truly magnificent.
Ah, you may be wondering who is speaking to you at the moment. My apologies dear friend, I should have introduced myself sooner. As you may have presumed from the brief excerpt at the start of this chapter, I am the prophet, I have no true name as most mortals do. I think, therefore I am.
If you understand my words, then I am sure that you have many questions for me. Allow me to answer one of the most pressing of such questions. Vhael the deathbringer, the harbinger of ruin, is dead: for good. But contrary to what you may assume, I was not the one who killed him. No, no, no, he was much too powerful for an admittedly pathetic being such as myself. I have some abilities, but even I cannot best a god: even one that has fallen long ago.
It was the underworld itself who did the job. The harbinger tried to resist and interfere in the underworld’s plans, and so, he was snuffed out. Under the guise of his dead wife, the underworld cast a lethal spell: one that scattered the deathbringer’s essence into innumerable tiny shards, never to be reunited again. It was a suitable ending for one who does not know his place.
Regardless, with that out of the way, we can discuss subjects that are significantly more interesting than the death of an exiled god. Let us start with my role and connection with the underworld, and why I am even speaking to you directly at this moment. I am a mere messenger of the underworld, a flattering position considering I am a slave to its will. All who dares to bargain with the underworld must pay a price, one way or another. No matter how long it takes, the underworld will always have its way.
Now, you may ask, where are the gods in all this? Surely even they would interfere and aid the mortals who worship them? The truth of the matter is that the gods do not care for mortals, at least not as much as their worshippers would like to believe. What reason would they have to care? It was they who created the world and everything in it, if it were to fall to ruin, they could just start over. The underworld, in contrast, is different. By its very nature, it is a place shaped by mortal life. Every soul: no matter if they were virtuous, malicious, brave, or cowardly, will go to the nether realm when their physical bodies collapse. This is the reason why the underworld takes a more proactive approach when it comes to the material realm and its inhabitants. It needs mortal kind to sustain itself, and so is forged by their sacrifice.
Some gods find it entertaining to “rescue” certain souls from this fate, so they occasionally descend into the underworld to take as many souls as they see fit (usually their most devout followers of course) and return back to their realm, satisfied that they will have direct access to worshippers to satisfy their infinite hubris. If they work together, the gods could rescue every soul from the underworld if they desired, but they will never do so. Because struggle creates devotion.
Answer me this question: who among these two individuals will be more devoted to the gods? Is it a noble who lives with a silver spoon and has nearly all of their needs catered to? Or is it the destitute peasant who prays, and prays, and prays every day, with the hope that just one day, they could maybe eek out enough grain to feed their family? A nation at war will almost always be more strong of faith compared to one at peace. For when kingdoms and empires wage war against each other, they will beseech the gods for aid. There is not much reason not to try, after all, what if the gods were to bless their enemies and not them? This is why the gods gave mortals just enough intelligence to know right and wrong, but also emotions to cloud their judgment.
I know all these things because I am part of the underworld now. I must admit, it was not a choice that I made entirely of my own volition. My essence had been drifting closer towards the nether realm for millenia. Slowly, year by year, as I aged: it was drawn towards the underworld’s song, and now I am a part of its melody.
So, what does this all mean for our intrepid protagonists of this story? Worry not, the underworld does not wish for the Princess of Ishgria or even the deathbringer’s daughter to die. They have an important role to play as part of the underworld’s grand design. You see, the underworld has decided that now, out of all times, would be the best chance for it to increase its influence upon the material plane. The gods are still locked in their squabble for dominance, the underworld itself has become strong enough to exert more of its influence, and of course: certain events have played out almost perfectly, as according to the grand design.
Now, my dear friend, you already know how this story ends. Right from the beginning, you too, have seen the inevitable conclusion to this tale. You are lucky to be able to foresee a conclusion many others can not. And now, you might ask, why? Why is the underworld bothering to do any of this? Why prolong a tale with an inevitable conclusion? Why create needless suffering? I cannot give you a perfect answer to the aforementioned questions, but I will try to approach one as best I can. The underworld is powerful but neither omnipotent nor omniscient. It needs mortals to drive it, to allow it to reach heights it could not achieve alone. And as for suffering, if you paid attention to my words, you will already know why it is important.
You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? You’ve seen how the Princess of Ishgria has had to rely more and more of the underworld’s power as she continued on her journey. Though she may refuse to admit it, she is already a devotee of the underworld. That is why the harbinger of ruin was a threat, if the princess grew to rely on him instead of the underworld itself, she would eventually diverge from the grand design, and such things are not acceptable. As for the deathbringer’s daughter, she has always had the influence of the underworld within her, she is a useful tool, that one.
Despite everything I have said, I would not be a prophet if I did not speak about the future now, would I? So allow me to do exactly that. What? Are you concerned that this tale would become less engaging if you knew the truth so early? Fine, as a gesture of appreciation to you, dear friend, I shall only partly impart the truth upon you. So that you may still find pleasure in the events to come.
The Princess of Ishgria will eventually have to face her destiny alone, without any of her companions. She will confront her mother, the queen, at the ruins of Castle Arstella. The princess will struggle, but she will come out victorious. Then, and only, then will she be able to establish the Scarlet Dominion.
The deathbringer’s daughter will also play a crucial role in the princess’s ascension. She will accompany the princess as far as she can, battling any foes or threats that would threaten her beloved. She is many things, and being loyal is one of them, to a fault, perhaps. But then again, I am not one to judge devotion.
The Red Reavers will survive. All of them will live to see the Princess of Ishgria ascend to her rightful place on the throne. They will become the new vanguard of Ishgria, a force powerful enough to fight foes many times their number and come out victorious.
As for Ishgria, perhaps this is a piece of information that I will not reveal to you, at least, not yet. It has certainly changed significantly since the underworld has exerted its will upon it. But that is only to be expected. Though, I suppose there is no harm in allowing you to see some part of the kingdom’s future. Ishgria will rise again, though forever scarred. A great wound has been inflicted on the kingdom, and it is one that can never be healed, not unless Ishgria is erased from the annals of history forever.
Of course, you have no reason to trust my words. But I believe that future events will prove to you that I speak not merely in jest.
What about me? Ah, I did not think that you would care for one such as I, but if you insist. I will observe, as is my prerogative. Perhaps I will deliver some information to the princess and her companions, but I do not know what that may be or when or if I will ever do so. I only speak when the underworld wishes me too, and I only deliver information it wants me to.
A sad existence, isn’t it? But that is the price that I paid. I have nobody to blame but myself. I was arrogant and too naive. I was a fool. I was lost. Apologies for that tangent, dear friend, it was unbecoming of me. Perhaps it is a sign that I must go. I still have much work to do, and I am sure you do as well.
Before I leave, I shall impart one last bit of my knowledge to you. It is a small piece of wisdom, an excerpt from a book which contains great knowledge and truths. No, I am not the author of such a vital text, it is simply a work that has always existed since the first days of mortal kind: and it will continue to exist until the last mortal in existence meets their demise.
There is no truth without suffering
The gods understand this, and that is what they bring
The underworld understands this, and that is what it brings
These are the truths of this world, and they are painful
But that is why they are true
-Excerpt from the book of lost souls