Martha’s realm

Three days before the attack on Iolite

Lucia’s hands were still bound to her back, kneeling on the floor. She gazed up at the magnificent fairy statue, wide-eyed. Her tears almost dried up at this point. The statue just spoke, right?

A speaking statue was by far an innocuous, even somewhat comforting event, compared to the traumatic experiences of over a thousand dead humans she had to endure. She had lots of questions running through her mind. Wasn’t Martha supposed to be dead? Why did she show her all of this? But she cut to the chase and asked the one question what was lingering in her mind.

“If you’re Martha, please tell me. Why would you help the humans? You even burned your lifespan to grant them wishes.” Lucia asked. Her voice was slightly hesitant, worried if she had overstepped her boundaries.

“Like you, I have always thought of humans as weak and helpless beings. The source of the Curse.” Martha said, emphasizing the word curse. Lucia flinched a little, like a reflex, when she heard it, clenching her right hand.

“But that was a lie. I lived with humans for centuries, watched them grow old, have children, and died in peace. Yet I was never afflicted by such a curse. With this unique appearance of mine, I wasn’t accepted anywhere. I spent my entire life earning coins by delving into the Chaos Dungeons. In there, I came across the Tree of Wisdom.” Martha’s voice shivered slightly at the end, relieving a bitter memory.

“Corrupted and dark. It was battered and weak when I first found it. It was no more than a sapling. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. So, I cared for the tree. I purified it, nurtured it, and watched it grow. When it did, the humans in the vicinity became stronger.”

Lucia’s forehead creased, and her jaw opened a little. Her answer only gave birth to more questions. Looking at the gray marble stone, Martha looked like any other fairy. Nothing unique about that. Not only that, but the Tree of Wisdom was also foreign to her. If there were such trees, wouldn’t they be known throughout the world?

“The human with me at that time called it the Tree of Wisdom. The tree spoke to them and gave them the knowledge they needed to survive. But I could never hear the words or feel this aura of the tree. At least, a Creation could never hear it.”

“Humans can be stronger, like us?” Lucia repeated, leaning forward to the unmoving statue.

“Who knows? Only time could tell. No matter what happens, remember what you saw. Those memories were real, reflecting the reality of this world.”

These were the memories that would fit nicely in the trauma area. If these were written in a book, Lucia would never have understood their pain.

Lucia said solemnly, “The way they were treated was unjust. No one deserves to live and die this way. Mother always said that the curse of the Abyss lives within humans, so their isolation was best for us and the world.”

“That much has been expected. Those priests changed my narrative to match their version of events. We never meet eye to eye. Except for the last one, I have not granted a single human wish.”

Lucia’s forehead could not crease even further, but it somehow did. “What about the village they built? The grand harvests from their fields and plantations? The story said that the Gods granted them plenty of harvests with rich land—”

Her soothing voice turned into an angry, thunderous roar filled with rage. “Plenty of harvests? They did nothing! Nothing! They destroyed everything that I have built!”

The Gods, whom she worshipped, did that? Lucia couldn’t believe anything she heard. Feeling the vengeance and hatred in her voice, Lucia lowered her gaze slightly. “Then Martha, I want to know the truth.”

A momentary silence hung in the air as Martha’s voice resonated in her ears once more.

“The truth? Child, knowing the truth meant defying the Gods. You will thread the same path as I did. Silenced and abandoned. Your story and legends would be rewoven with time. You will never be revered as a Princess again.” Martha’s voice warned.

Lucia bit her lips. A Princess? Countless humans cursed her name as they passed. When she was a Princess, what had she accomplished? Opening the Mensa and Fornax regions improved the overall economy of the country. But at the same time, countless lives were lost. If she had listened to her brother and kept close supervision of the government and the people, this wouldn’t have happened.

Thoughts from those human memories raced through her mind, making her anxious. Her heart rate rocketed. None of these lives should have been lost. She held her breath, trying to steady herself.

“I never did my job as a Princess, to begin with. Not well enough, at least.” Lucia said, shutting her eyes. Saying those words gave her a sense of realization she had never had in herself. The side of her she never wanted to admit.

“You would forgo the chance to be the Queen of Iolite?”

What was this burning sensation within her? The sadness she possessed before turned into anger and frustration. Lucia got up and stared the statue in the eye.

“What’s the point if I’m only causing so much suffering? Martha, all my life I only wanted the best for people, not to cause these senseless killings. Human lives shouldn’t be treated as inferior to that of Creations.”

Lucia only meant to say it out as a statement, but her voice projected outwards loudly, full of conviction.

“Remember, this was your choice.”

Lucia was more than determined. “Yes.”

“My powers kept the Gods from destroying the Trees of Wisdom. You have witnessed the last moments of the victims of the system. If you wish to learn the truth, step forth.”

With unwavering resolve, Lucia stood up and began her steady march forward. The familiar feeling of being drawn into the memory gripped her. She allowed her consciousness to be drawn into the memories of Martha, ready for whatever comes next.

After plunging into the darkness, Lucia opened her eyes to see a village.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lucia’s heart raced as she watched in horror, unable to tear her eyes away from the devastating scene before her. A village nestled in the rolling hills was engulfed in flames and chaos. Instead of the blue azure sky, the skies were pitch black without stars. An icy dragon roamed the skies, freezing any human in sight.

Martha was kneeling on a rocky patch, her fingers stained black and her nails sharpened to points. Her left arm had been cleanly amputated, the wound dripping blood that stained the earth beneath her. Despite the pain that wracked her body, Martha refused to give in. Her wings ached and her skin burned in flames.

Amidst the carnage, a magnificent tree stood tall behind her on the highest hill. Its leaves shimmered with soft blue light, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Martha took a glance at the back, her eyes fixed on the base of its trunk. There, in a hollow at the base of the tree, she saw a pool of blue liquid metal, pulsing with faint light.

With her staff lying beside her, brimming with dark and purple energy, Martha used her one remaining arm to grip it tightly. She was not alone in her struggle before she stood four figures, their outlines blurred by the blinding light behind them. From their silhouettes, she could tell that they were a dwarf, an elf, a fairy, and an orc, all standing strong.

“Give it up, Martha. Now, in this state, you’re so powerless. Well, not that you were even close to beating us in the first place.” The elf said.

“Hmph, Grunt can snap little moth like twig,” the orc beside him said.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you. Are you a fairy? You look like a witch! Look at that black hair and wings!”

The dwarf looked at her and gave a disapproving sigh. “Martha, you fool. It didn’t have to come to this.” He dropped his mace and walked away from the others, descending the bridge.

“Well, orders were to kill her, burn the tree down, and take out humans in this village. Who wants to do it?” The elf asked.

“Don’t make me use more of my spells on her, ew. I’ll dispose of the humans.” The fairy said in disgust.

“Grunt goes.” The orc proclaimed, picking up his club.

Martha’s vision began to blur, her body weakening from the loss of blood. She could see the towering orc lifting a massive club, ready to strike her down in one fell swoop. But Martha refused to go down without a fight.

With fierce determination, she gripped her staff tightly and summoned a barrier of shadows to protect herself. The force of the orc’s blow sent shockwaves rippling through the barrier, and Martha could feel a crack beginning to form.

Her voice, weakened by the battle and her injuries, was filled with frustration and anger as she spoke. “You may take away my sight, my wings, and my limbs. But you cannot take away my voice. Listen to me, you selfish gods! You are not afraid of the humans themselves, but of the consequences of your actions!”

As Martha spoke, the other two champions who had been standing back stepped forward and drew their weapons.

Martha’s tears formed out of desperation. “If any of you have even an ounce of compassion left, listen to my dying wish and put an end to this mass murder!”

Martha’s wish ignited the fire of desire within her. The heat coursed through her veins, consuming every inch of her being. The wish took what remained of her vision, and her grip on her staff weakened.

It was a dying wish, after all.

Meanwhile, the elf began chanting his incantations, empowering his sword with magic. The fairy, with a flick of his wrist, summoned a shower of blazing rocks in the form of a pyramid cascading down from the heavens.

“Grunt, stop her from making the wish!”

Grunt hefted his massive club, swinging it with all his might at the enchanted dome. Though the cracks multiplied, the barrier remained defiant. Martha poured all her remaining energy into strengthening the shadow barrier.

“It’s alright, there’s a chance that her wish will not go off. Wishes could only be granted if God was willing to grant them. And at this stage, no Gods will listen to her now.” The fairy said, but his voice carried a hint of anxiousness.

What if there was a God who would listen?

Martha had to gamble on this. There was no other way. After years of growing the village and the Tree of Wisdom, she couldn’t afford to lay waste.

Martha’s body convulsed, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood as she coughed it up. Her throat was raw, and every breath was a struggle. She needed to say a few words, but she couldn’t speak. Her right hand trembled as she channeled more energy to the shadow dome, keeping the forces at bay.

Her body felt weak, and her senses began to fade. She lost her sight, and her hearing started to fail. The wailings of shadows around her grew silent.

Was she dying? No… She hasn’t made her wish yet.

Suddenly, she heard a faint sound, footsteps echoing in the darkness. The sound of bells ringing in the distance became clearer. It was coming closer, and Martha knew that her time was almost up.

A silvery male voice entered Martha’s mind, soothing her like a lullaby. “I have watched you for a long time, Martha. I will listen to your wishes.”

Martha opened her mouth, but no words came out. Deafened and muted, she could only feel the darkness closing in around her. She could barely feel anything.

“You only need to think about it,” the voice said.

Closing her eyes, Martha focused on her desire. With whatever energy remained, she formed the words in her mind. “I wish to conceal the Trees of Wisdom in the depths of the Chaos Dungeons, where no deity shall ever discover them. Only worthy one shall lay claim to their power.”

The words echoed through her mind, ringing with the force of her conviction. Martha gasped, feeling the weight of her task settle upon her. But she knew that she had done what was necessary.

“Very well. Then it shall be you who selects the worthy successor.”

A hush fell over the chamber as Lucia was dragged out of the memory. For a moment, she felt disoriented in the void. But then, her senses returned to her, as they should, and she found herself standing before the towering statue of Martha.

“In my homeland, demons tarnished our lands. They rob our citizens and slay them without mercy. From what I saw, we were demons in the human’s eyes. If you choose me as your successor, you have my word. I will revive every Tree of Wisdom that exists in Axtral. I will make things right. But if there was any sign that it would lead to the end of the world, I won’t hesitate to stop.”

Martha’s voice was slightly amused. “Oh, you’re asking me to gamble once more? Intriguing.”

“All I want is a fair world. You’re free to choose another successor more worthy than I am.”

Martha burst out in laughter, then she replied, “Octanis dear, release her from the chains.”

The same small boy from before appeared from one of the rubbles, holding the key. “She won’t hurt?”

Trembling with fear, the boy approached the fairy and unlocked the chains that bound her. With a soft click, the chains fell away, clanging to the ground.

“Out of everyone, you’re the first one here.” The child said.

Lucia gave a grateful smile. Her wings fluttered as she stretched them out. A sense of nostalgia hit her, feeling her magic returning and surging through her body. Lucia quickly turned to her back and thanked the boy, but the boy was gone.

A soft rumbling could be heard echoing through the space. The ancient statue stirred, its stony arm moving slowly as it pointed its staff at Lucia’s forehead. A soft purple light emanated from the tip, enveloping her in its warm embrace.

“To restore the power of the Trees of Wisdom is to restore the rights of humans,” the voice of the statue boomed in Lucia’s mind. “Four were known for now, Enlil, Enki, Ninsu, and Isimud. Reviving the trees will provide them with a place to flourish and may even bring you the cure to your curse.”

Darkness surged through Lucia’s body, and she felt it embracing her like an old friend. She gazed helplessly at the staff, accepting whatever was to come.

“You are born strong, unlike me,” the voice continued. “Take the last of my power and wield it as your own. The power of shadows."

The tip of the staff shattered right before her eyes, as a small crystal glowed in radiant purple. The crystal looked almost alive, burning the surrounding air. The crystal forced its way into Lucia’s torso.

Lucia gasped as her emerald-green hair turned partially dark, as if the shadows were corrupting her soul. Her wings, once a source of pride, were now partially dyed black. Panic set in for a moment, but the warmth of the shadows calmed her down. They whispered to her that everything was alright.

“The shadows will guide you on your journey,” the voice assured her. “Good luck, my young successor.”

The black shadowy surroundings slowly faded away. Lucia opened her eyes to see the dark skies, decorated with the shimmering light of the stars. Lucia found that she was no longer in the library of Luna Monolith. She was surrounded by forest trees. The far howl of the wolves told her that she wasn’t in Iolite either.

“Where am I?”

She could hear the whispers of shadows. From the trees, the falling leaves, and even her own shadow. They only whispered, “Find Ian.”