Flames encompassed everything.
They razed and consumed the land, darkening the sky as if cursing it for its distance, yet longing for its peacefulness. Screams of pain and anguish and despair filled the air like smoke as scorched bodies lay strewn across burnt ground, a testament to the merciless fury of fire. Malice saturated the atmosphere like a thick blanket as a malevolent red light poured out like liquid fire. Scarlet tongues of flame flickered, caressing and striking at one another like snakes wanting to devour everything, even themselves, as the massive inferno threatened to devour everything.
For Lukas, it was a deja-vu moment. The sight, the smell of burning sulfur, the utter malice and malevolence pouring from the heavens, the scarlet tongues of crimson flame rising from every direction, wanting to claim and devour everything. He was expecting the Ifrit King to show up at any moment.
“Charming place,” said Frost, standing right next to him. Both of them were standing next to each other. This was a memory, and yet the sensations felt more real than anything else, and the two of them — living, breathing figures, were little more than phantoms that had not existed in this moment when it happened.
A paradox that ever could be.
“How are we doing this?” he asked.
“Through Simulacrum,” said Frost, not even looking at him. Her eyes were too busy looking around, taking in the world around her all at once. “A technique that operates at the intersection of advanced perception and advanced psionics. It uses the memory as a template and reconstructs a mental projection of it within your mindscape, allowing you to craft a highly accurate vision of the place and period depicted within.”
“So it’s like lucid dreaming,” he said. It was eerily similar to what he did with his mindscape during Inanna’s tutelage. It was among the first things Inanna had taught him to do without making it a bargain. In fact, the memory of Inanna dragged through Ereshkigal’s seven gates had felt utterly real too, and unlike the others, he had actually been in it. Perhaps his mind had conjured that by accident?
A weird thought came to mind.
“Say, is this simulacrum only limited to the mind? Or can it be created—”
“A skilled terramancer can craft a simulacrum in the real world, yes,” finished Frost before he could finish his question. She gave him a knowing look. “A skilled terramancer, not unlike the skinwalker.”
So that’s how Solana did it, Lukas thought. She was practically showing us a memory of the event.
“Now tell me,” said Frost. “Is that….?”
She raised a finger, pointing at the two figures before them.
“Inanna,” Lukas murmured.
But she wasn’t alone. Next to her was a child, or someone that looked like a child. Lukas had seen enough crazy in this world to not estimate someone's age by their appearance.
“Are you sure this will work?” He heard Inanna say.
“Not really,” her companion muttered. She wore a dark hooded robe covering her entire form. By her voice, she was indeed a little girl, barely in her teens. But her words said anything but. “But for someone with your aspirations, this is the only way forward.”
“Someone of my aspirations…” Inanna said again, her emerald eyes reflecting the crimson embers around as she peered into the flames. “You failed to mention that it involves walking through Vikahl itself.”
“You wish to stand in defiance of the God of Fire, and yet here you are, trembling before this?” the child mocked.
Lukas staggered. He had heard this statement before. He had heard it back when he was struggling against the might of the King. He had thought it was Inanna but something about it felt odd, even to his addled mind.
Now he knew why.
It was her.
It was this girl.
He wanted to take a step forward, but hesitated. Even the memory of these flames did odd things to him. They wouldn’t burn him, they couldn’t, but something about them felt wrong. It was a strange power, but at the same time, utterly different from anything else he had ever seen.
He watched her glare at the tiny figure, her hands clenching. He knew what she was feeling. He knew what it was like to be looked down upon, to be treated like vermin. He knew the familiar sensation of feeling his insides boil.
After all, he had been in that same place, with Inanna looking down at him.
Was this what people called legacy?
“What must I do?”
The renewed strength in her tone gave the child pause.
“Only a fire may devour another. Asshur burns brightly in the sky. Fire that gives life, provides warmth, brings hope in even the direst of situations. That is the nemesis you have claimed for yourself. One might even consider it an impossible task.”
“Who is that child?” asked Frost.
Lukas shook his head. “No clue. But she must have been someone important to treat Inanna like that.”
“These fires…” commented Frost. “There is something odd about them. Something familiar.”
“It was a power she sought as a mortal,” Lukas explained. “This… this predates her becoming the Supreme Queen. She told me that she got this power from this place. She said that it was enough to eclipse the god Asshur’s power.”
Frost scoffed. “Either you are lying, or have been lied to. No mortal power, no matter how great, can eclipse a god.”
“Not even a Truth?”
Frost regarded him evenly. “Who will win? An Empress anchors a Truth to herself? Or a Goddess, who wields another, only infinitely more empowered by the faith of her worshippers?”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Lukas bit back whatever retort he was about to give.
“Gods of fire like this Asshur are a dime a dozen,” said Frost. “Almost every Pantheon has a god or goddess that has transcended the powers of fire. Majority of them, through relics of previous pantheons. Same with the other elements. Fire is the most destructive element out there, and with faith added into the mix, one of the most dangerous. This woman, Inanna or otherwise, could not have defeated him with this.”
Lukas tilted his head slightly. “You speak like you’ve known a lot of civilizations.”
Frost did not look at him. “Do not be deceived, soulcrafter. I might wear the shell of my vessel, but do not forget what I am, what my purpose is.”
“Ending all potential.”
This time she did look at him. “I have been called by many names, across many lifetimes. Truths rise and fall, the seasons turn and turn, but just like the forever march of Potential, the retrogression of Taboo continues infinitely. Do not impose your limited comprehension of Time upon Us. Your future is my Past. Your Past is my Future.”
Lukas shook his head. “How can that be? My future is not set in stone. ”
“But mine is. The Formless Infinity. My past, an infinite collection of possibilities in the Infinity of Forms.”
“You’ve already been in this world’s past. As Tsurara’s alter ego, as Meynte’s and before that, as Nidhogg. Fimbulwinter is the herald of the End of the Norse Pantheon.”
“It is. Perhaps I will, in my future, and in your past, be there. Perhaps I have already been. Perhaps I am already there right now.”
“But that doesn’t even make sense!”
Frost gave him an amused smile. “Imagine that.”
Not wanting to deal with the impending headache that Frost seemed intent on giving him, he looked at the memory, his main reason for being there. Regardless of Frost’s claims, Lukas knew that Inanna would never lie.
”You must be the flames that burn in darkness,” rang the child’s voice “The jaws that consume life. The fire that pollutes, purges, and destroys. The Vikahl Ashlands are merely a stepping-stone in fulfilling that dream.”
Dream.
She had called it a dream.
Lukas didn’t need to be a psychologist to know exactly how much Inanna loathed it. She was Ambition-personified. To have her goals reduced to merely a ‘dream’, as if they were merely figments of her imagination and would remain as such?
Lukas watched as Inanna silently disrobed. Her manacles went first. Then her vest. The cloth around her neck fell next. And finally, her waistguard. None of them would survive those flames.
“What happens if the flames are stronger?”
“You will learn to overpower them.”
Lukas wondered if Inanna had been passing on her own experience under that child’s tutelage during their training sessions. He watched as she stared into the crackling flames, steadying herself for what was to come. He recognized that small, nervous smile flickering on her face, as her hands lightly twitched with a few nervous little gestures. She had made the exact same gestures right before she had vanished, leaving him stranded in this world.
She was afraid. Afraid and utterly nervous. And yet, she did not hesitate to step into the flames.
Great walls of flame rose to meet her, as if they had an awareness of their own, crashing upon her like waves on a shore. Lukas watched with a mix of anxiety and awe as Motion writhed around her, deflecting the incoming barrage and recoiling into a web all around her as miniature typhoons of flame rose to consume her whole. She grunted as the primordial force crashed against her own might. Something told Lukas that it was not just fire. No fire could stand a chance against the ruler of motion. It was more like the flickering tongues of flame were hammering against her own will.
It didn’t matter how much power poured out, the flames devoured it all.
It didn’t matter how much she deflected, there was always more.
It didn’t matter how much she struggled, there was no path forward.
But such was the precise line of thought that would ensure her failure. Lukas knew that, for he had been in the exact same situation. For Inanna to save herself, she’d need to survive. And to survive, she’d need to keep throwing out more power. Her will needed to be strong. More importantly, she had to keep walking forward.
The flames continued to lash around like the tentacles of a ravenous beast. It was all too terrifying. Lukas remembered when the Ifrit King had raised its gargantuan hands, and a world of flames had collapsed upon him from all sides. He remembered how every single emotion within him had begged him to escape. To save himself and run away from this inferno before it consumed him.
But if he did, he’d be condemning Tanya to death.
It wasn’t an option.
And so, he had stopped feeling it.
And so did she.
When she became too scared to move, she stopped feeling her fear. When the burns became too great a challenge, she stopped feeling pain. When she was unable to push back against the force, she stopped her very own thoughts.
With every new step, she left a piece of herself behind. With every step, she became less than she was before. With every step, the flames coalesced around her. Purging her, unmaking her, adding to her, breaking her, strengthening her.
Then he heard the child let out a wicked cackle, her words magically magnified and reverberating all around.
“YOUR SELFISHNESS KNOWS NO BOUNDS! YOU’D SNATCH, YOU’D HUSTLE, EMPIRES WOULD BURN AND PANTHEONS WOULD FALL, YET YOUR DESIRE REMAINS UNQUENCHED!”
A sense of unease began to spread through him. It wasn’t the Frost. No, it was coming from outside. That child’s voice had heralded something terrible. It was just like when he had accessed the memories of his world perishing. Something so anathemic to his mind that his brain would choose to give him an aneurysm than deal with the consequences. Lukas began to look around wildly, as the uneasiness blossomed into mounting dread and fear, and despite his Level-5 Alpha Condition, all his mental barriers were being overcome by a new and frightening uncertainty that something was coming in response to Inanna’s struggle. Something alien and completely beyond his understanding. Something that with every single step Inanna took, only drew closer and closer.
“YOU ARE BLOODSHED AND BATTLE, BRINGING JUSTICE AND MISFORTUNE IN EQUAL MEASURE. YOU WANDER IN TREACHERY AND TRAVEL WITH UNKINDNESS.”
Lukas felt a sudden sharp pain in his hand. He looked down and realized that Frost had grabbed his hand, and held it in a death-grip. What was worse was that the hoarfrost was slowly spreading out of her fingers and greedily devouring lifeforce out of his body. Again? That didn’t even make a lick of sense given both their bodies weren’t even real to begin with. This was a freaking memory, and they were psionic imprints of themselves playing it within his mindscape.
The alien, discordant, humming sound became louder and louder. Lukas tried to shake Frost’s hand off, but she looked like she was rooted on spot, the familiar dark amusement on her face replaced by an unnaturally pale demeanor. She was watching the scene play out before her, transfixed with terror.
“YOUR WRATH SHALL BREAK THE DIVINE THRONES, YOUR WHIMS DEFILE THE MOST SACRED OF RELICS….”
Fierce hurricanes billowed across the entire terrain, the world around them hotter than a supernova, exploding, imploding, spinning and reforming back into shape. A thousand new possibilities were forming all around her, a thousand decimated, atomized without care. And in the middle, stood that one woman, utterly naked, uncaring of the apocalypse around her.
“EXISTENCE ITSELF IS UNRAVELED BY YOUR PRESENCE, THE FLAMES OF DEPRIVATION SHALL BE YOUR ESSENCE!”
“This! This cannot be!” yelled Frost. She looked at him, absolute terror in her eyes as she grasped his hand tightly. And then in a perfect hundred-and-eighty shift of her character, she began to laugh. She laughed and laughed with that painful grin on his face, before suddenly screaming in incoherent rage.
“TRICKSTER! YOU CLAIMED THIS WAS A GODDESS! YOU CLAIMED SHE A PANTHEON QUEEN! YOU— YOU—”
“PLUNDERER! TRICKSTER! PSYCHOPOMP!
Frost’s face twisted into a mask of psychotic fury, flecks of white as she threw power around, exiting the memory, but not before she could hear the final name.
“INANNA!!!”