When the Abby shared her experiences with the Torchbearers, the other Torchbearers applauded her achievement with sincere praise, causing her natural light purple hue to darken to a more reddish-purple hue due to embarrassment. Months passed within the secluded realms of Ember Mountain, each day bringing new challenges and revelations for Abby under the tutelage of Carl, her mentor. The training, an arduous journey through diverse worlds, forged a deep bond between mentor and apprentice.
Abby's respect for Carl grew with each passing lesson. His unwavering dedication to the Torchbearer's code to light the way and not judge, the mastery of fire, and the wisdom he shared became the foundation of her training. The cavernous halls echoed with the crackling flames, a testament to the Torchbearers' commitment to their craft. As the months unfolded, Abby's prowess with fire evolved. Her tentacles, once novice conduits of flame, now danced with intricate patterns, manifesting eight large fireballs simultaneously—one for each tentacle.
Amid her training, Nat remained distant, his aversion to off-world exploration understandable as with each new world or revisit to one she knew took a strain on her. He would debrief when she returned, and they would catch up. He was taking this time to catch up on what had happened in the last ten years. Despite his absence, Abby found solace in Carl's guidance. The mentor-apprentice relationship bloomed into a profound connection of teacher and student.
One day, during a break in her training routine, Carl approached Abby with a thoughtful expression. "Abby, there's something more I'd like to share with you. A Torchbearer's journey extends beyond wielding fire. It delves into understanding the intricacies of the worlds we visit and the diverse beings we encounter. Someone I feel you are now ready to meet, someone who knew Erik well."
Intrigued, Abby listened as Carl recounted stories of their encounters with various entities—beings of energy, cosmic giants, and ethereal creatures. His tales painted a vivid picture of the Torchbearers' role as guardians of light and safe passage, but also had her reflect on the creatures that lived there. She was now used to the cosmic and alien creatures. But she also realized that very few actually interacted with her or Carl. They merely watched and waited for them to leave, or exuded pressure to cause fear which would in turn cause an awakening.
“Today your initial training is complete. The worlds we will go to now are my actual caretaker worlds. The inhabitants here will question and interact with you.” Carl led her to the device which was becoming familiar with Abby. “Today, you will meet Janice.”
“The Lich Lord that knew Erik?”
“Yes.”
“The…. Undead…. Lich Lord?”
“Yes.”
“….so exciting…” Her fear evident as she paled.
Carl activated the portal device, and they stepped through. One second, they were facing a green and blue swirling haze and the next they walked out of a secluded cabin in a dark set of woods. Behind it lay the entrance to Janice's tomb concealed within the shadowy reaches of an ancient, gnarled forest beckoning with an eerie allure. The air, thick with an otherworldly stillness, carried a scent of damp earth and lingering magic. Moss-covered stones marked the pathway, winding through gnarled roots and twisted branches that seemed to reach out like skeletal fingers.
Approaching the threshold, the air grew colder, and an ethereal mist clung to the surroundings, lending an almost ghostly quality to the atmosphere. The entrance, an imposing archway carved from obsidian, bore intricate runes that glowed faintly with an otherworldly light. The obsidian seemed to absorb rather than reflect the scarce light, creating an illusion of depth beyond the mortal realm.
As Abby stepped into the tomb, the temperature dropped significantly, and a hushed silence enveloped her. The passageways, lined with ancient tapestries depicting scenes of undead warriors in majestic battles, whispered tales of Janice's reign. The torches lining the walls flickered as they lit them, casting dancing shadows that seemed to come alive with each step. The first chamber unveiled a massive, circular room adorned with ornate pillars. In the center lay a grand sarcophagus, intricately engraved with scenes of Janice's life and conquests. The lid, adorned with gemstones that glowed in a soft, spectral light, hinted at the potent magic within. Abby and Carl began to light the sconces, “Will them to last a month any longer it won’t last.” His advice was in his normal voice, not a whisper which made Abby jump. She nodded and continued to light them.
Beyond the grand chamber, a labyrinthine network of passages awaited, each leading to different sections of the dungeon. Dark corridors echoed with the haunting whispers of trapped souls, and the air seemed to pulse with ancient enchantments. The walls, adorned with murals depicting Janice's encounters with god-spirits; some depicted as helping, some depicted in battles with her, held an unsettling beauty that bordered on the macabre.
One of the chambers revealed Janice's personal library—a vast collection of ancient tomes, spellbooks, and scrolls. The shelves, lined with dusty volumes, emitted an aura of forbidden knowledge. A large, dusty desk stood in the center, covered in open manuscripts and quills, frozen in time as if Janice herself had just stepped away. Every candle needed replaced and lit, and it took about a hour go through the whole library.
Further exploration led to a training ground where spectral warriors engaged in silent combat. The clang of spectral swords and the ethereal glow of combat illuminated the space. It became apparent that Janice, even in undeath, continued to hone her skills and those of her undead subjects. The warriors waved to Carl and asked how he had been as they lit the training grounds.
As Abby delved deeper, the dungeon revealed an inner sanctum—a place of communion with the god-spirits. An otherworldly altar, surrounded by flickering candles, emitted a faint glow. The air buzzed with a potent energy, and the walls bore the ethereal imprints of divine encounters.
The culmination of Abby's journey through Janice's tomb unveiled a secret chamber—a place where Janice had perfected the art of healing flame. The room, bathed in a gentle, golden light, held an altar adorned with crystalline vials filled with healing flame essence. Undead figures, now in peaceful repose, looked as though they were sleeping, attested to the effectiveness of Janice's healing abilities. Janice's tomb, a tapestry of undead history and mystical prowess, stood as a testament to her enduring legacy. The echoes of her deeds and the lingering presence of ancient magic created an ambiance that transcended the boundaries between life and undeath, leaving an indelible mark on those who dared to explore its depths.
"Now to the main chamber," Carl announced as they entered the throne room.
The throne room, a vast expanse adorned with faded banners and worn tapestries, unfolded before Abby's eyes. The air bore a weighty stillness, broken only by the soft shuffling of undead attendants as they knelt and bowed in reverence to their Lich Lord. An eerie glow radiated from the throne drawing Abby’s attention.
At the far end of the chamber, an imposing throne of dark, weathered wood rose upon a dais. The throne itself seemed to pulse with an arcane energy, resonating with the eerie power that permeated the room. On the throne, Janice sat in regal repose, her desiccated form exuding an air of command.
The undead attendants, once warriors and mages in their past lives, knelt in rows along the sides of the room. Their desiccated features displayed an otherworldly beauty, preserved by Janice's healing flame. The soft glow of the healing magic outlined their skeletal frames, creating an ethereal contrast to the darkness that cloaked the chamber. Etheral muscles and skin adorned the skeletons as if it were trying to add what was lost.
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Janice, however, remained the singular exception. Her desiccated corpse, untouched by her own healing abilities, bore the marks of arcane energies lacing her bones. The spectral flames that danced within her empty eye sockets flickered with an otherworldly intelligence, casting an eerie illumination upon her face. Regal, but torn, priestly robes draped across the skeletal figure completing her look.
As Abby and Carl approached, the undead attendants lowered their heads in unison, a collective gesture of respect. Janice acknowledged their reverence with a slight nod, her gaze fixed on a distant point that seemed to transcend the physical realm.
The throne room, a convergence of undead loyalty and mystical power, stood as a testament to Janice's rule. The haunting ambiance, laced with both reverence and the palpable hum of arcane energies, enveloped Abby. In the presence of the Lich Lord and her devoted subjects, Abby felt the weight of centuries bearing witness to a queen who had transcended death itself.
“Greetings Carl,” Janice, her formidable figure moved and welcomed her guests, she greeted Abby with a nod. "You must be Abby, sister to Erik Tiller. I've heard much about you from him and your mentor here." Her voice echoed with a spectral resonance, a skeletal hand extended towards Carl, and Abby couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and trepidation.
In the presence of the undead, Abby felt fear akin to the fear felt all those years ago when she was at the mercy of the Great Ocean. Drifting and hunted by sea turtles and cat-walruses for weeks on end. The young Auctian she thought had grown up suddenly reared her head and she froze.
Janice stood from her throne and motioned her subjects to leave them. Row by row the dead left the main chamber and began their daily routine. Some even asked each other what they were going to get into that day. “Once a month my subjects must seek me out and regain some of their…. flesh and soul,” She started, looking to Abby. Carl merely nodded, knowing what the meeting was for.
Abby looked between Carl and Janice, “W-W-where should I start lighting?”
Carl put his hand on Abby’s shoulder, the warmth of it spread through her chilled body, it helped her relax a little. Until he spoke at least, “Don’t worry I’ll get the rest won’t be but an hour or so. Sit and chat with Janice, you both have a lot in common.”
Abby’s eyes went wide pleading for Carl to let her help, “Are you sure?” was all she could muster. He nodded and left her and Janice and began to light the sconces.
Janice chuckled, though how Abby couldn’t tell as her throat was bone. “Please, you are my humble guest I must make a good host.” She stepped to the side and extended her arm and pointed to a doorway behind the throne. “This way.”
Abby followed dutifully, as she crossed the threshold of the doorway behind the throne she found a very modest bedroom with a set of chairs and a small table off into a corner. Janice went to her bed and took off her priestly robes, it’s tattered remains providing no motion as she folded them. Underneath lay a tattered and worn dress shirt and trousers, though they were so old that they were barely clothes at all.
“Tea?” she asked. Abby nodded, and a spectral creature of some kind brought in a tea set and poured tea from a porcelain pot into two cups. It bowed to Janice and left the room.
“Thank you,” Abby managed to squeak out, she did not even recognize her own voice. She placed her bag to the side of the table and she took a sip, feeling a cold cup in her tentacles, and was startled as the liquid was warm, hot even. “Huh.”
“That was Erik’s reaction as well.” Janice sat and took a bigger sip than Abby. To Abby’s surprise the liquid did not splash through Janice’s bones and wet her clothing. If anything, as the tea went down Abby witnessed an ethereal skin appear and travel down with the tea until it went into the part of her body where her clothes covered. “This is soul tea, a drink enjoyed by both the living and dead in this world.”
Abby took another sip, her fear abiding a little. “What is it made from?” She asked genuinely interested.
“Well to tell you that, I’ll have to tell you a little of our world.” And with that she began to explain the similarities between her world and Abby’s. “In both our worlds we have spirits, and we have a form of abilities. In ours, we called it magic and literally everything had a soul. From the smallest living creature to a rock, everything is imbued with the magic essence and allows the souls to be seen. So to keep a long explanation brief, it’s just magically infused tea. But since the tea leaves have a soul, the living drink its physical nature, whereas the nonliving drink it's soul.”
“Hmm, I’ve never heard of Auctian researching on whether plants have souls on my planet. I’ll have to see if any land-based research exists. I know my ocean dwelling brethren didn’t, they would classify it as creation type kah and call it usless. Most everything on my planet comes from understanding my ancestors found out, most humans do little research. At least in the public eye.” Abby drank more of the tea, easing up even more around Janice.
“I see,” Janice put a boney finger to her chin and scratched. “Erik used that term ‘kah’ before. He at least at the time didn’t know its meaning, or didn’t want to share its meaning.”
“Kah is our soul.” Abby said, “its wear our abilities come from and what makes us exist after our physical death. We are taught that everyone has a type of kah, either type one, creation it deals with creating an element or object from nothing. The second or type two, is time based. Healing, teleporting, creating portals, anything that circumvents time in some way.” She paused, “My brethren wouldn’t accept this, but I believe the humans have discovered a third type of kah, one that mixes the first two.”
“Your people seem to distrust humans?”
“Not really, they seclude themselves. During the time they were on land they traded with humans and exchanged ideas with no problems. They just crave knowledge, any idea that is not Auctian based is immediately dismissed until an Auctian can prove it. Nowadays though we are a dying race, we left the land 60,000 years ago on my planet and retreated to the sea on the other side of the world.”
“Why?” Janice seemed interested, but the flames in her eyes seem to focus on Abby’s bag every once and a while.
“No one knows, most records from that time are gone. Though the Eternal King and the human kingdoms of Rothurd and Arvendon were founded around that time. Maybe their libraries would know.”
“Careful of political maneuvers of countries and kingdoms. That’s ultimately what laid this world to ruin.” Janice took a longer sip of her tea reminiscing in memories not verbalized. “The dead bring themselves to me, but it is futile. This world is not long for our universe. The Torchbearers bringing the warmth of light to my tomb is a bandage on a gushing wound.”
“What’s wrong here?”
“That is a tale for next time you visit my dear. The reason is mostly because I’m very interested in something within your bag. It’s literally tugging at my soul. I noticed it when my butler brought in the tea. His ethereal self was being bent towards your pack in an unnatural way as he poured your tea. And unfortunately, my curiosity has gotten the better of me.”
Abby was confused as all she had in there was a whole bunch of sand, she randomly collected to help her with training, the stones Erik gave her one broken one whole, his sealed letter, and the pieces of Carl’s globe. She pulled everything out, well almost everything she only retrieved a tentacle full of sand. Janice’s flames within her skull seemed to study each object as it came out, shaking her head no at everything Abby presented to her, save for the complete soulstone.
“This is called a soulstone because it creates an awakening in our kah allowing a permanent change in our abilities.” Abby said. “This one’s incomplete, its ment to have black swirls appearing and disappearing with in the stone. This is what Erik left to me.”
“I see.” Janice said taking the soulstone with her skeletal fingers. “May I see if I can complete it?”
“Sure! Only Arvendon’s military can produce them. If we can get to know the secret of making them maybe this will help all kah users.” Said Abby, not remembering what Janice had claimed the butler’s soul had been doing when around her pack.
“Thank you.” Janice stood and placed the gemstone beside her bed on a nightstand. There was a knock, followed by Carl’s voice.
“Abby we are done here, Janice always a pleasure to see you.” He bowed ceremoniously.
Janice chuckled again, “Your student gave me a project to work on while you are gone. I cannot wait to get started on it.” She waved Abby on to return to her world. “Fare thee well Abby, till we meet once more.”
“It was nice taking to you Janice.” Abby grabbed her bag and left the chamber, she then turned and waved.
Carl did not say a word until they were outside of her tomb and approaching the portal. “She has given so much of herself to keep those still on this world alive in some capacity.”
“Why is this world dying?”
“Because of that,” he pointed to the sky. Where there should be stars and gas shown throughout the sky was nothing but a black void. “The planet is tidally locked with it, and in about ten years or so we won’t be able to connect to this world anymore. Their god-spirit of the sun, Solarian, became a black hole, and is devouring the solar system slowly.”
“How did that happen?” Abby asked.
“Ask Janice next week, as we may have to be back sooner each time from now on, our flames won’t last like they once did. Her healing flame burns more and more faintly each time I see it. The undead here were once no different from the living because of her.”
“Couldn’t they leave with us?”
“Perhaps, but that would require Incinera’s and King Alistair’s permission, we cannot legally provide sanctuary to anyone from another world.”
“Hmm…” They continued their travel through the portal and arrived on the other side. Once there she saw Nat eating an apple and writing down what the other torchbearers were doing. “Nat,” she whispered. “I wanna run something by you in the cafeteria.”