Chapter 64
Thusly Timeless
It began with the crack of lightning.
It began with the blink of an eye.
A flash of thunder shot past him at a speed unmatched by anything he'd ever seen, and pain soon crippled his mind--glancing to the side, he watched his entire left arm fly off the shoulder, blood spraying out, flesh writhing.
She skated for nearly forty yards onward, digging up footprint ditches, while he did his best to ignore the desire to scream and weep in pain. Grasping Evium tightly, he spun and swung; almost like a sieve, the blade bled colors, shaping them into yawing spearheads that flew out fanatically against the current.
The air vibrated like the ripples in a pond, points spreading outwards rather strangely. Divinely holy light suddenly burned from the ashen clouds, coiling into a pillar that swallowed her whole for a moment. Her silhouette emerged from the hallowed lambent colors, though now changed. A pair of strange, feathered wings unfurled from her back and curved forward, meeting in front of her and easily deflecting all of his attacks.
Just as they did, the feathers began to burn in dark-red fires, ash falling like rain--yet, it never met the ground. The granular gray morphed into streaks that arched around her and at her back, coiling unto nothing and forming a circle--right thereafter, a blindingly bright burst of colors erupted, golden flames surging into a ring, forming a seamlessly spinning halo.
It spat liquid fire repeatedly, churning like the gears of a divine machine, undoing the world around it.
For the first time in what felt like decades... Asher felt fear. It bore deeply into his bones, birthing a chill that seemed to not thaw. She floated a few inches above the ground, her holy countenance imposing--he felt his knees shake and wither, and his mind beg and plea... Kneel, it whispered. Like a desire born before all others, his body yearned to simply fall and bow... but he wouldn’t.
Biting his tongue, a pulse of pain awoke him just in time to meet her carnage. She spun like in a circus, two swords extended perpendicularly; each time she’d make a full circle, she’d come ten feet closer and would heave out unfurling bundles of energy.
Asher desperately ducked and slid, the holy light of divine shooting past him overhead, ripping apart the aged castle made of stone. His left arm had begun regrowing, bits by bits, though he was in no position to pay attention to it. She rotated once again and he repaid in kind--from down and upward, he swung the blade with all his might.
Evium wept and roared like an awakened banshee, folds of light pressing upon its shining surface, soon erasing all color. And yet, something was unfastened from the blade--it shot forth so quickly that Asher could not see it. But in its path, it silenced the world.
It ripped apart the perpendicular arrays of holy, causing the woman to halt in place and raise both her swords, crossing them in front of her. Shouting, the halo behind her spun even faster--it was loud, so loud that Asher’s ears began to bleed, and so bright that he could feel the wet, red tears fall down his cheeks.
The collision cracked the world, unleashing a magnificent pillar of duality into the sky above, ripping apart the clouds. The woman screamed as loudly as Evium did, her holy countenance dimming. She pulled her blades to the side with all her might, clumps of blood spraying out from between her armor.
The invisible array was curved right from Asher’s view and ripped through the world into the horizon, disappearing in the mist. He stood up and faced her yet again--the halo behind her had dimmed, almost like a faulty rotor chipping away at the edges that could no longer contain him. Liquid fire like embers flickered away and onto the ground, vanishing right after.
She was hunched forward once again, vomiting blood, her white hair stained red and pressed wet against the damaged armor. For a brief moment, that sensation of the divine vanished from her--she was just a young, wounded girl. For just a brief moment, however.
Her head raised, Asher heard the cracks first before the line flat across her helmet flashed, separating two halves. A face emerged from within, pale and drained of blood, yet angelic. As though by instinct, Asher immediately closed his eyes. He felt his heart waver upon the mere sight, and could not comprehend it; it wasn’t just the beauty--at least... he didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t think himself so shallow that he’d be bewitched by someone’s face, no matter how beautiful.
No, it was something beyond beauty--it was the visage itself which compelled, unrivaled.
“O thee wretched,” she spoke, sounding almost bemused. “Dost thou fret my visage? BEHOLD!!!” she roared, her voice like a crack of thunder. “O warrior chosen by Evium, dost thou feel no shame?!! Open thy wretched eyes and behold! Behold as thee bleed me! Bathe not in odium of thine paltriness! O warrior chosen... behold and endure, lest thy light be false...”
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Asher gritted his teeth and slowly opened his eyes.
However, she was not there in front of him. Startled for a moment, thinking he had been tricked, he panicked but for naught; he quickly realized he wasn't even at the edge of a cliff overlooking a dreary abyss.
Rather, he was in a well-kept courtyard--cherry blossoms flanked both sides, fully in bloom, pink like flushed cheeks. The limestone pavement beneath was brightly white, unblemished, and the buildings around stood tall and untouched. The architecture was difficult to describe, as it seemed to be a strange blend of Gothic and baroque, with a twinge of orientalism.
“A daughter!!” the doors to the central building were suddenly flung open, which was when Asher spotted nearly twenty people nervously standing around, all suddenly facing the figure that shot out. “It’s a daughter!”
Asher’s lips parted in shock--the man who stood at the doors was beautiful, perhaps just as beautiful as the woman he just fought. Rather, he saw the same visage within him as within her, as though they were of the same, divine make.
“Congratulations, my Lord!”
“Ooh, what a wondrous day!”
"Declare, my Lord! Declare the Princess's name!"
“Her name,” the man said. “Shall be Caey.”
“All hail Princess Caey!!”
“All hail Princess Caey!!”
“Timeless she may be!”
The colors shuffled abruptly and the entire world disappeared into a specter of darkness before it unfolded like a carpet, colors once again assailing the canvas and forming a different scene.
The same man now sat on a rather lavishly decorated throne, the countenance of joy nowhere to be found. Rather, he seemed angry--ruthlessly so. Even Asher felt his heart skip a beat and the cold, frigid gaze wasn't even aimed at him. Instead, it was aimed at a young girl shivering on her knees--she looked to be around six, long strands of snow-white hair gently falling around her short body.
“--F-father--”
“Silence!!” her soft plea was interrupted by a cold retort. “What is our First Law, Caey?”
“...”
“SPEAK, YOU FOOLISH CHILD!!!”
“D-d-don’t... don’t bequeath our... our blood.”
“Do not Bequeath our Blood,” the man repeated. “The first words recited, the first words spoken, the first words inked in gilded gold... and you, o foolish child, dare ignore them?!”
“But, father! Rya was--she was about to die!”
"Then let her die!" the man retorted once again, his anger scarcely subsiding. The voice boomed out deafeningly, shaking the surrounding walls. "All living must behold the warm touch of the end! All which is born must return to the Mother's Embrace!"
"... she's my friend," the child pleaded with tears, and yet the man seemed entirely unmoved. "I... I can help her..."
“Help her?” the man snorted. “If she were meant to live, Caey, she would have lived. You cannot unchain those beset for the Longing Lands. You did not help her,” the man extended his arm into the never-nothing, pulling something out. A moment later, right in front of the young girl, a young pup lay. Asher gagged and winced at the sight; white fur had been coated in bubbly sores, rotten flesh exposed everywhere, yet... it was breathing. Writhing in pain, but alive. “Tell me, o foolish child. Did you help her?”
“R-Rya...?” the young girl mumbled in disbelief. “No, no--no, this... RYA!!” before she could reach out and grab the young pup, an invisible force pushed her back, causing her to roll on the stone for a good few feet before settling.
“She is touched by Death, now. Neither alive nor dead. Death believes she defied it. And thus, she is cursed... set to forever suffer. She yearned eternal life... and eternal life she is given.”
"... no, no, no," the young girl was weeping openly, snot and tears intermingling on her youthful face. Even though she was so young, Asher easily saw a few traces of the woman she'd become--perhaps not the undisputed beauty or the countenance that compelled, but the look of delusional desperation... it was the same. "Father--father, please, I beg of you... help her! I--I will do anything! Anything! Please!"
“... she cannot be helped,” the young pup suddenly disappeared. “Let this be a lesson, o foolish child. That which is to die must so. We cannot bequeath our blood, for our blood is a curse only our Noble Heart can withstand.”
Just a moment later, the scenery changed once again. Asher became a ghost he could not control--that same man was running like mad through drifting and winding corridors, gasping for breath, hair disheveled.
Some thirty seconds later, he burst through gilded doors and entered a spacious yet empty chamber--round and wide, there was nothing in it save for a slightly elevated platform where two figures resided.
There was a young woman lying on her side, spasming, and there was a beautiful, white-furred pup licking her face and whimpering. Asher’s eyes widened when he saw the young woman--he’d seen it, all those wounds, strange postulates, open wounds, rotten and decayed flesh...
“O Gods no,” the man mumbled and shot up to the platform, kneeling in front of the young woman. Half of her face was dismantled flesh, pried open so that the face’s innards could be seen. The other, yet, was as pale as snow, sallow as though she hadn’t eaten in months, and violently scarred. The singular eye managed to drift from the abyss and face the man by her side. “Caey, what the hell have you done?!!”
"Y-y-y-ou... you told me... there was no way," she stuttered, each word clearly invoking pain so overwhelming she wept. "So I--" The world froze abruptly, objects rippling and ripping, as though there were hands beyond trying to pull the canvas apart. However distorted they got, though, the 'image' was held whole.
“Hm, you pried into her heart,” a familiar, aged, and tired voice resonated across the world, prompting Asher to glance to the side where he saw the weathered man appear. He walked softly, his feet never touching the ground, and headed over to the father-daughter pair, stopping just a couple of feet behind them, looming over. “Strange.” He glanced over at Asher, the eyes hidden behind the skin folds.
“...” Asher stayed silent, deliberating. Confused thoughts swarmed him, though now he understood a twinge of it all--it was unintended, at least this part. He was never supposed to be here, was never supposed to see this. “Will... will you kill me?” he quizzed.
“...” the old man stayed silent, looking away and back to the young woman on the floor. Frozen in time, repeatedly pitched and yawed by eerie distortions, the horrors of pain were still evident. “Twice, now, you endured our compulsion, nascent journeyman. And once now she had someone behold her visage untainted.”
“...”
“She gave you a glimpse into her heart, and you bore witness to something no living is privy to. The truth of my Lineage.” Asher frowned, his heartbeat quickening. “Tell me, o nascent one,” the man turned once more toward Asher, holy light suddenly surging from between the skin folds. Bit by bit, he watched them be pulled back, restored as though yanked through the eons of time, until they were flat and taut. In front of him stood not an aged, weathered figure, but a beautiful, young man, ever so slightly older than the one kneeling in front of the young woman. “Tell me... what is the truth of my Lineage?”