A Blood-soaked Legacy
IX
Places Lost to Memory
(Shard II)
(Shard II)
"This is my home. This is where it all began. This is the land your physical shell now inhabits." Maenthrai's cold voice made its way to Isilda's ephemeral ears like a gust of frozen air. "This was the city of Neshran before my mother destroyed it and all who dwelt here."
Isilda turned around slowly, taking in the full view around her. On all sides of this yard stood the tall and strong trunks of ancient trees. As she turned to face Maenthrai, she saw an old wood and stone house. The design was ancient, yet the house looked in perfect condition. A three-floored manor of considerable size with a wide back and peaked roof. On each end of the house stood a wooden dragon, in the style of the old Hoelatha ruins.
Maenthrai stood silent, hovering a few inches over the grass. Her blood-red hair continued to cascade around her head, and the tatters of her robe that barely clothed her form trailed from her like chains and webs anchoring her into some non-physical medium. What could be seen of her ephemeral face was cast with sorrow and longing.
"This is Neshran before the cataclysm? This was your home?"
"Yes. Beyond the forest is the ancient city from my memories. This is the place I grew up. This is the place that I, my mother, and my family held by blood."
"Remarkable, to think that this place not only sustained life so long ago but was a thriving city. All we were able to see was ruins and devastation." Isilda turned away from Maenthrai to look back to the haunting light high in the mountains beyond them. "What is that place?"
"That is the Ullthosian Temple. That is the source of the power you call Haeth. That was the sanctuary of the very first oracles."
"There is something unnatural about it. It dominates this area; not just physically..." Isilda stopped for a moment and then remembered fully where she was. This was a place borne of a dead woman's memories. If such a place shone so vibrantly, there must be some importance beyond lore and explanation. "That place was important to you, wasn't it?"
"Yes. Every night as a child, I would sit in my room, or come out here onto the grass and stare at that beacon light. I would stare at the glimmering torch of Ullthos built into the sanctum. I longed to go there, for that is where my mother was."
"Why was she separated from you like that? Why were you never allowed to go there?"
"She was one of the most powerful oracles. It was her duty to forsake her family for years at a time to perform arduous rituals and prolonged studies in that place. I was abandoned by her, left to the diligent care of my father. She chose the path of the Oracle over that of being a mother to her children."
"A sad state of affairs. I know what it is like to be separated from family for so long due to personal duty. Why is it that you chose to become an oracle, yourself?"
"I did. Of a different order. I left my family with my brother, for Morrthault City in the South. I grew up there after my mother murdered my family and I turned my back on this forsaken place." Maenthrai stopped for a moment. She didn't need to take a breath as she was beyond such concerns. "I ended up doing the same thing to my own children. Abandoning them, just as my mother had abandoned and betrayed me."
"Why did you do that? Was it what you knew from your past?"
"My mother abandoned us because she was consumed with saving the world from the calamity that would come. She wanted to pierce the barriers of time so that she might save our culture from the fall. She sacrificed her own humanity, her sanity, and all those around her in her quest." Maenthrai stopped and floated over to Isilda. Her presence was cold against Isilda's back. "I was consumed in the same way. I abandoned my children with my husband so that I might seek out why my mother had turned into a monster. I found the source of her madness in the refuge of the Azhemyra years later. It was in that moment, that the Nesharite Spheres were created."
"Your mother had good intentions and was driven to evil by them. You had good intentions and fell to your own folly. I assume, given that I am holding your skull at this moment, that your mother caught up with you."
"She did. She killed me, as she killed the rest of my family." Maenthrai paused and moved from the back of Isilda to her side. She reached up into the night air with a grasping, skeletal hand towards the beacon in the distance. "My mother has been hunting down all that hold my blood. All of my descendants. In her insane state, she believes that the final destruction of this world will come by the hand of one of my blood. For millennia she has hunted down those cursed to carry my and her sins."
"The Witchlings? I have heard the tale, although we of the Authrakallin have only considered it a legend. It is said all those who are touched by Merithault, the Mad, can be found by having blood-red hair. It is said they are the most powerful oracles left in the world." Isilda paused for a moment while collecting her memories. "Grandmaster Toulam told me it was only a myth. Yet, I have seen him with a young woman recently. A child with red hair."
"Hold those thoughts to yourself; bury them deep within you; for my mother still hunts the last to carry my blood." Maenthrai pulled her hand back to her chest. "All those skulls you've found in these catacombs are what is left of my lineage. The dead reminders of lives sacrificed to her murderous impulses."
"I understand now." Isilda took in a deep breath, despite not needing such in the astral realms. The comfort of the chill air helped to ground her to the severity of her realizations. "When you found out what happened to your mother, you made your own path, didn't you?"
"Yes." Maenthrai turned to stare deeply at Isilda. Her ice-blue eyes shone like unholy orbs in the night. "My mother decided to hunt down those of my blood to save the world. I knew better and have done what I can to save my descendants from her. She was driven to madness by Ullthos and turned into one of his servants. The revelations she had were corrupted. She believes one of my last descendants will destroy the world. I believe that they are the last to save what will be left."
"Then I know what I must do. Perhaps this is why Toulam sent us here." Isilda broke contact with Maenthrai's eyes to stare off at the rising blood moon over the distant mountains. "That young woman must be protected from your mother."
As Isilda focused on the blood moon rising in the sky, the world around her began to fall away once more. Blood began to seep up from the grass beneath her feet. The large trees surrounding her fell into themselves like decaying bodies slumping into a gore-filled sea. She turned her gaze away to look back at Maenthrai's ghost. What she beheld was a full sight of her skeleton reached toward her to tear her sight away.
Instead of brilliant white, the world was swallowed in blood. The blood grew thicker, higher, and darker with each moment. Before Isilda could take one last gasp to scream, the world faded into endless darkness.
"You managed to use your elemental magicks to blast through the ice before." Bhergom's voice was breathless and frantic from running. "Why do you not do so again?"
Tyverus looked over his shoulder to shoot a glare at the old oracle. "I fully intend to try, Master, but I would rather we make sure that Isilda is alright." The armored knight continued to press through the narrowing passageways, guided by the dimming light in his hand. "I would prefer us to combine our abilities to get out of here, rather than sacrificing it all so that you can escape alone."
Bhergom groaned through his labored breathing. He didn't appreciate having his cowardice brought up again, but he knew that the young knight was correct. He was fully intent on abandoning his apprentice if it meant that he could get out of this damned place alive. Some moral part of him agreed with Tyverus, but that part was diminishing by the moment.
"Good, the last room." Tyverus got another burst of energy as he pushed forward and to the right. He barreled through a tightening archway into the skull chamber beyond. Bhergom soon followed after as the rocks and ice moved in on his heels.
Tyverus stopped just beyond the entrance to the skull chamber. Bhergom fell onto his back and pushed beside the knight. As the old oracle turned to look behind them, he saw the archway seal over. Whatever entity it was that controlled this area, seemed to have such powers that the very earth was at their will. This was more than mere magick.
"Well, boy, we haven't much time. We're trapped now. So go and get her." Bhergom turned away from the knight to stare at the darkening room around him. The lighting crystals were heavily diminished in power now. There was barely enough light, even with the knight's cantrip to see what was around them.
Tyverus took a few steps forward into the darkening hall. He held his left hand out like a torch and noticed as he did so that the light was guttering in his hand. He was afraid of putting any more energy into it as the hungry crystals above might drain him once more. He took a few cautious steps towards the bridge over the river at the center of the chamber.
"Isilda!" Tyverus' voice was shaky and less loud than he had wanted. "Isilda." He pressed to the bridge and took only two steps up. "Come to me if you hear me. We must get out of here, now." He wished she was alright. He could barely see over the bridge.
"I hear you." Her voice was distant but nearing. "I see you Tyverus. Please come closer."
Tyverus took a few more steps up on the bridge, near the crest. He made sure to stand clear of the area where the crystals drained him earlier. "Isilda, we have to go, now."
He added a bit more of his energies into his flame, willing to risk it so that he might find her in the dark. As he did, he could make out Isilda's form across the bridge. She was standing with something in her hands. He pushed a bit more of his energy into the orb.
He could see her clearly on the edge of the bridge. In her hands she held the metal-clad skull she was focused on earlier. Her hood was drawn over her head, but Tyverus could see frosted blood streaking down the young woman's cheeks. She was pale as a corpse as she stepped closer to him. She was still several dozens of feet away on the other side of the bridge.
"I saw what she wanted me to see, Tyverus. I know the reason we were sent here." A smile formed on Isilda's blood-stained lips. Her eyes looked up at him, half-crazed and spotted with blood. Her cloak few behind her on a soft gust of wind, yet she remained still as she stood with the skull in her outstretched hands. "We have to protect her. Toulam was right to send us. I know it all, now."
Isilda turned around slowly, taking in the full view around her. On all sides of this yard stood the tall and strong trunks of ancient trees. As she turned to face Maenthrai, she saw an old wood and stone house. The design was ancient, yet the house looked in perfect condition. A three-floored manor of considerable size with a wide back and peaked roof. On each end of the house stood a wooden dragon, in the style of the old Hoelatha ruins.
Maenthrai stood silent, hovering a few inches over the grass. Her blood-red hair continued to cascade around her head, and the tatters of her robe that barely clothed her form trailed from her like chains and webs anchoring her into some non-physical medium. What could be seen of her ephemeral face was cast with sorrow and longing.
"This is Neshran before the cataclysm? This was your home?"
"Yes. Beyond the forest is the ancient city from my memories. This is the place I grew up. This is the place that I, my mother, and my family held by blood."
"Remarkable, to think that this place not only sustained life so long ago but was a thriving city. All we were able to see was ruins and devastation." Isilda turned away from Maenthrai to look back to the haunting light high in the mountains beyond them. "What is that place?"
"That is the Ullthosian Temple. That is the source of the power you call Haeth. That was the sanctuary of the very first oracles."
"There is something unnatural about it. It dominates this area; not just physically..." Isilda stopped for a moment and then remembered fully where she was. This was a place borne of a dead woman's memories. If such a place shone so vibrantly, there must be some importance beyond lore and explanation. "That place was important to you, wasn't it?"
"Yes. Every night as a child, I would sit in my room, or come out here onto the grass and stare at that beacon light. I would stare at the glimmering torch of Ullthos built into the sanctum. I longed to go there, for that is where my mother was."
"Why was she separated from you like that? Why were you never allowed to go there?"
"She was one of the most powerful oracles. It was her duty to forsake her family for years at a time to perform arduous rituals and prolonged studies in that place. I was abandoned by her, left to the diligent care of my father. She chose the path of the Oracle over that of being a mother to her children."
"A sad state of affairs. I know what it is like to be separated from family for so long due to personal duty. Why is it that you chose to become an oracle, yourself?"
"I did. Of a different order. I left my family with my brother, for Morrthault City in the South. I grew up there after my mother murdered my family and I turned my back on this forsaken place." Maenthrai stopped for a moment. She didn't need to take a breath as she was beyond such concerns. "I ended up doing the same thing to my own children. Abandoning them, just as my mother had abandoned and betrayed me."
"Why did you do that? Was it what you knew from your past?"
"My mother abandoned us because she was consumed with saving the world from the calamity that would come. She wanted to pierce the barriers of time so that she might save our culture from the fall. She sacrificed her own humanity, her sanity, and all those around her in her quest." Maenthrai stopped and floated over to Isilda. Her presence was cold against Isilda's back. "I was consumed in the same way. I abandoned my children with my husband so that I might seek out why my mother had turned into a monster. I found the source of her madness in the refuge of the Azhemyra years later. It was in that moment, that the Nesharite Spheres were created."
"Your mother had good intentions and was driven to evil by them. You had good intentions and fell to your own folly. I assume, given that I am holding your skull at this moment, that your mother caught up with you."
"She did. She killed me, as she killed the rest of my family." Maenthrai paused and moved from the back of Isilda to her side. She reached up into the night air with a grasping, skeletal hand towards the beacon in the distance. "My mother has been hunting down all that hold my blood. All of my descendants. In her insane state, she believes that the final destruction of this world will come by the hand of one of my blood. For millennia she has hunted down those cursed to carry my and her sins."
"The Witchlings? I have heard the tale, although we of the Authrakallin have only considered it a legend. It is said all those who are touched by Merithault, the Mad, can be found by having blood-red hair. It is said they are the most powerful oracles left in the world." Isilda paused for a moment while collecting her memories. "Grandmaster Toulam told me it was only a myth. Yet, I have seen him with a young woman recently. A child with red hair."
"Hold those thoughts to yourself; bury them deep within you; for my mother still hunts the last to carry my blood." Maenthrai pulled her hand back to her chest. "All those skulls you've found in these catacombs are what is left of my lineage. The dead reminders of lives sacrificed to her murderous impulses."
"I understand now." Isilda took in a deep breath, despite not needing such in the astral realms. The comfort of the chill air helped to ground her to the severity of her realizations. "When you found out what happened to your mother, you made your own path, didn't you?"
"Yes." Maenthrai turned to stare deeply at Isilda. Her ice-blue eyes shone like unholy orbs in the night. "My mother decided to hunt down those of my blood to save the world. I knew better and have done what I can to save my descendants from her. She was driven to madness by Ullthos and turned into one of his servants. The revelations she had were corrupted. She believes one of my last descendants will destroy the world. I believe that they are the last to save what will be left."
"Then I know what I must do. Perhaps this is why Toulam sent us here." Isilda broke contact with Maenthrai's eyes to stare off at the rising blood moon over the distant mountains. "That young woman must be protected from your mother."
As Isilda focused on the blood moon rising in the sky, the world around her began to fall away once more. Blood began to seep up from the grass beneath her feet. The large trees surrounding her fell into themselves like decaying bodies slumping into a gore-filled sea. She turned her gaze away to look back at Maenthrai's ghost. What she beheld was a full sight of her skeleton reached toward her to tear her sight away.
Instead of brilliant white, the world was swallowed in blood. The blood grew thicker, higher, and darker with each moment. Before Isilda could take one last gasp to scream, the world faded into endless darkness.
* * *
"You managed to use your elemental magicks to blast through the ice before." Bhergom's voice was breathless and frantic from running. "Why do you not do so again?"
Tyverus looked over his shoulder to shoot a glare at the old oracle. "I fully intend to try, Master, but I would rather we make sure that Isilda is alright." The armored knight continued to press through the narrowing passageways, guided by the dimming light in his hand. "I would prefer us to combine our abilities to get out of here, rather than sacrificing it all so that you can escape alone."
Bhergom groaned through his labored breathing. He didn't appreciate having his cowardice brought up again, but he knew that the young knight was correct. He was fully intent on abandoning his apprentice if it meant that he could get out of this damned place alive. Some moral part of him agreed with Tyverus, but that part was diminishing by the moment.
"Good, the last room." Tyverus got another burst of energy as he pushed forward and to the right. He barreled through a tightening archway into the skull chamber beyond. Bhergom soon followed after as the rocks and ice moved in on his heels.
Tyverus stopped just beyond the entrance to the skull chamber. Bhergom fell onto his back and pushed beside the knight. As the old oracle turned to look behind them, he saw the archway seal over. Whatever entity it was that controlled this area, seemed to have such powers that the very earth was at their will. This was more than mere magick.
"Well, boy, we haven't much time. We're trapped now. So go and get her." Bhergom turned away from the knight to stare at the darkening room around him. The lighting crystals were heavily diminished in power now. There was barely enough light, even with the knight's cantrip to see what was around them.
Tyverus took a few steps forward into the darkening hall. He held his left hand out like a torch and noticed as he did so that the light was guttering in his hand. He was afraid of putting any more energy into it as the hungry crystals above might drain him once more. He took a few cautious steps towards the bridge over the river at the center of the chamber.
"Isilda!" Tyverus' voice was shaky and less loud than he had wanted. "Isilda." He pressed to the bridge and took only two steps up. "Come to me if you hear me. We must get out of here, now." He wished she was alright. He could barely see over the bridge.
"I hear you." Her voice was distant but nearing. "I see you Tyverus. Please come closer."
Tyverus took a few more steps up on the bridge, near the crest. He made sure to stand clear of the area where the crystals drained him earlier. "Isilda, we have to go, now."
He added a bit more of his energies into his flame, willing to risk it so that he might find her in the dark. As he did, he could make out Isilda's form across the bridge. She was standing with something in her hands. He pushed a bit more of his energy into the orb.
He could see her clearly on the edge of the bridge. In her hands she held the metal-clad skull she was focused on earlier. Her hood was drawn over her head, but Tyverus could see frosted blood streaking down the young woman's cheeks. She was pale as a corpse as she stepped closer to him. She was still several dozens of feet away on the other side of the bridge.
"I saw what she wanted me to see, Tyverus. I know the reason we were sent here." A smile formed on Isilda's blood-stained lips. Her eyes looked up at him, half-crazed and spotted with blood. Her cloak few behind her on a soft gust of wind, yet she remained still as she stood with the skull in her outstretched hands. "We have to protect her. Toulam was right to send us. I know it all, now."
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