A Blood-soaked Legacy
VII
Among the Shadows
(Shard II)
(Shard II)
Isilda sat for a moment with the metal-coated skull before her. She held both hands a few inches from the surface of the skull and focused intently upon the runes carved into the metal and bone. Her energies were depleted and it was hard to concentrate, but she had to try and get some answers, even if they only came to her in fractured bursts.
"Maenthraya, or Maenthrai, the beloved daughter of someone long ago. Please, share with me what you saw while you were still alive." Isilda closed her eyes and allowed the tips of her fingers to touch upon the chilled metal before her. "If your shade remains in this world, please come to me, show me what I must know."
Isilda drew energy from the area around her, feeling the fine hairs on body stand on end. Deep muscles in her solar plexus began to tighten as she felt a warm energy growing there and spreading throughout her body. Beneath her closed eyelids she observed the cascading flow of her mental energies folding out as a blue, purple, and gray tunnel stretching into infinity. Sparks and rings of energy flowed from her into the depths and after a few moments, the first ripples began to come back to her.
The rings took on a brighter shade as the first rolled back to her slowly, and then with increasing speed. With each wave of energy hitting her consciousness, the energy inside of her began to grow. There was still information in these old remains, and an echo of a soul was reaching back to her.
Wave after wave struck at her with increasing speed and her body began to convulse slightly with every impact. Images began to focus out of the depths she reached into. Fuzzy details of a young man's face. A disjointed feeling of happiness and sorrow at the flash of a young woman's birth. The memories cascaded with greater speed until Isilda's consciousness could barely contain them all.
The waves were forming into one long cascade of energy now. It was hard for Isilda to control all of it. She fought against the constant memories coming at her and the feeling inside of it of some consciousness wanting to take over her own. The sensations were growing painful and the convulsions in her body were wracking her with increased force.
Then everything went cold. The waves stopped, and darkness crept over her. She felt a snap come from inside of her, like some resistance in her mind had finally given in. She couldn't feel her body anymore, all she could feel is omnipresent cold that transcended any kind of physical sense.
"You should not be here." A soft feminine voice reached to her from the dark realm all around her. "You are meddling in things you were not meant to."
"Who are you?" Isilda ignored the cautionary words. She couldn't see anything and had no sense of body. She called out with her mind into the abyss all around her.
"You should not be here." The voice became more commanding and louder. The voice no longer seemed to be coming from a single point in the abyss, but rather from all directions at once.
"Maenthraya? Is that your name?" Isilda continued to ignore the voice. She tried to coalesce some astral form from her energies but every mote she gathered seemed to be dispersed on a wind that grew in intensity. "Why will you not share your secrets with me?"
"You mean nothing, young one. You don't know what powers you mettle with." The voice began to swirl around Isilda's consciousness while gathering force. "You pretend to know the powers you draw upon. You pretend to know the past of the world. You delude yourself with the purpose of your futile, and short life."
"What do you mean? All life has purpose." Isilda pressed her will forward and kept pushing against the growing winds around her. A slight incandescent form of her body could be seen beneath her. "I am here among the living. You are among the dead. I am the candle in the wind, and you are the echo of what has passed."
"That is precisely the source of your delusions, young one. You pull at energy that you don't know how to harness. You use arts that have had their time and died long ago. You walk into a den of evil and dare to pierce the secrets hidden within."
"The catacombs?" Isilda could feel more of her astral form growing in this place. She could feel the strong winds billowing on her ephemeral skin. She could hear the howls echoing throughout the darkness. "How is this a den of evil?"
"Mother dwells here, child." The voice was so loud as to be deafening now.
"Your mother? Merithault?" Isilda reached a hand out into the darkness, seeing the particles of energy making up her ghostly form. "Merithault is long gone. This is a place of the dead now."
"How naive you are." The winds pulled back for a moment and then hit Isilda like a hard wave once more. "Evil in this world does not die, it lingers and grows hale off the sins of humanity. She is as strong as ever. She bides her time until she can seek out the last of my blood." The winds dissipated Isilda's energy for a moment, but she reformed herself easily. "The last of our cursed lineage. The Forsaken. The Witchling of Alsira. The orphaned daughter of destruction and madness."
"Alsira? That is my home." Isilda paused for a moment to gather her fragmenting thoughts. "Who is this Witchling? Who is the last heir of your blood?"
The winds remained silent as they continued to whip around Isilda at a feverish pace. The darkness began to dwindle for a few moments, with images that looked like the skull cavern her physical body sat within. Isilda could see different perspectives of herself from out of her body.
"You are not meant to know. You aren't supposed to be here. Leave before mother returns." The winds howled against her. Isilda could see the hood on her head blow down her shoulders and her blonde hair rise and fall with each word.
"I must know. I can seek out the Witchling. I must know if I need to protect her."
"You are not meant to be here!" The voice tore through her like the skin-stripping sand-winds of her home during a storm. "Leave now, or suffer our fate!"
"Your fate? Who do you speak of?"
"Myself, my family, and all those of my children, their children, and onward."
"These skulls are your children? Who killed them and took their skulls to be placed in this cavern."
"Mother."
"Is your mother, Merithault? Are you the daughter of the Mad Oracle?"
The perspective of Isilda moved around her physical form. She could see herself from above, from the sides, and from other oblique angles. Each shift corresponded to each word spoken by the voice of the other entity in this abyss. The winds continued to gather and then suddenly went quiet.
"Leave!" A hard gust of wind hit Isilda and sent her physical form into a convulsion backward. "Now!" The next gust threw her physical form backward off the boulder she sat upon. Her hands broke contact with the skull.
Isilda opened her eyes and felt the pain growing in her neck, chest, and arms. She pulled herself from lying on the rock and ice-strewn floor of the cavern to get back to her feet. She could feel groans of pain from her body that grounded her more to her physical form.
She walked over to the boulder, sat down upon it once more, and defiantly held her hands over the skull once more. She wasn't going to let this stubborn entity hold secrets from her. She was here to find out what knowledge this place held, and she'd be damned to let an errant shade get the best of her.
Isilda held her hands over the skull and then let her fingertips touch the skull once more. She threw caution to the winds and began to pool energy within her without constraint. She was focused now and she would rip the knowledge from the entity whether it liked it or not.
Isilda felt her eyes begin to flutter as she tried to form the same tunnel in her mind as before. She could feel erratic sparks of her consciousness reaching out, but they never seemed to come back to her. She tried to close her eyes fully, but could not do so as they continued to flutter.
She tried to pivot her hands to get a better grip on the skull and she soon realized she could not move her body. With a hard snap, her head was tossed forward and then backward. Her eyes flew open and she could not manage to shut them.
She stared at the skull in front of her as silver-blue light began to flow from the dimming crystals overhead to pool around the skull in front of her. The metal of the skull grew painfully cold as the energy gathered. No matter the pain, she could not sever the connection between her and it.
Tears began to well up in her eyes, beginning first as water, and then with the sting of blood. The growing blood tears began to stream down her cheeks, freezing to them before reaching her chin. Her breath became pitched and the steam coming up from her nose and mouth soon dissipated. She could feel the cold air reaching into her lungs and freezing her from the inside out.
The blue light began to form a faint outline before her. It looked like the silhouette of a woman clad in ancient robes. Features slowly began to form within the energy until she could make out eyes and the vague features of a face.
Isilda began to cough hard, unable to draw in breath. She gave gulps, hoping to capture what she could, but air continued to escape her. She coughed once more and blood began to spatter out from her mouth. The droplets seemed to float on the air and slowly drift to the form in front of her.
Each cough and sputter gave more blood to the form, and each droplet met with the others, freezing in place and forming what looked like strands of hair draping from beneath the female form's hood. The form was enchanting and beautiful in a strange way.
Pain soared throughout Isilda's body. The pain in her chest felt like she was drowning in ice-cold waters. The chill of the metal skull tore through into her hands with a frostbite beyond any she had felt before. Her eyes continued to sting, and despite the blood frozen over them, she continued to see everything around her in a crystal focus.
"My name is Maenthrai. I am the daughter of Merithault. I am the last of the true oracles. I am inheritor of the blood-curse, from my mother to all those of my blood." The voice from the form before Isilda was hypnotic and commanding. She could hear every word, yet the accents of the language seemed foreign to her. "I was murdered by my mother after I created the Nesharite Spheres. I crafted them to keep our ancient culture alive, once I knew my mother would destroy all that had come before. I sought out the source of what turned my mother into the unliving creature she now is. In doing so, I found out the future of this world. I was given the choice to allow my mother to fulfill her dark impulses, or to hope that one of my heirs would be able to fight back against her."
Isilda continued to remain frozen in place. The words and visions began to wash over her consciousness. The form was now opaque although shadowed in darkness.
"It was my dying wish that I could redeem my mother, but I failed. The Spheres I built fell to unworthy hands. The world I wanted to save, has now crumbled to dust. The only hope remains in one of my lineage. The last one to be cursed with the true powers of Haeth. The one that can be found with the blood hair."
The form leaned in close to Isilda. She could feel sparks of energy hitting her chilled flesh. The pain inside of her made her want to die, but she had to stay conscious long enough to learn the secrets of Maenthrai.
"You are not supposed to be here, child. I have warned you and you still do not heed me. If you must suffer the fate of your ignorance, then I might as well impart my wisdom to you. Perhaps your soul can be of use, one day."
The form moved back from Isilda and reached out a hand in her direction. The hand seemed to be clothed in transparent flesh. The bones beneath shone through with brighter energy than the ephemeral flesh coating it. Searing cold emanated from the hand as it neared Isilda's face.
The hand reached forth and grabbed Isilda by the skull. Cold, skeletal fingers penetrated through her scalp and to her very bone. She could feel the cold pressing in on her mind, freezing her while exploding her consciousness from within.
"You wish to know what I know, and see what I have seen. Then so be it."
Isilda convulsed backward as a brilliant flash of light went off in her mind. The sensations were overpowering. The emotions were more than she could bear. The visions tore through her and made all that she had ever known seem like specks of dust on the wind. Her mind was being ripped apart from the inside-out as each revelation struck her with increasing ferocity.
"Maenthraya, or Maenthrai, the beloved daughter of someone long ago. Please, share with me what you saw while you were still alive." Isilda closed her eyes and allowed the tips of her fingers to touch upon the chilled metal before her. "If your shade remains in this world, please come to me, show me what I must know."
Isilda drew energy from the area around her, feeling the fine hairs on body stand on end. Deep muscles in her solar plexus began to tighten as she felt a warm energy growing there and spreading throughout her body. Beneath her closed eyelids she observed the cascading flow of her mental energies folding out as a blue, purple, and gray tunnel stretching into infinity. Sparks and rings of energy flowed from her into the depths and after a few moments, the first ripples began to come back to her.
The rings took on a brighter shade as the first rolled back to her slowly, and then with increasing speed. With each wave of energy hitting her consciousness, the energy inside of her began to grow. There was still information in these old remains, and an echo of a soul was reaching back to her.
Wave after wave struck at her with increasing speed and her body began to convulse slightly with every impact. Images began to focus out of the depths she reached into. Fuzzy details of a young man's face. A disjointed feeling of happiness and sorrow at the flash of a young woman's birth. The memories cascaded with greater speed until Isilda's consciousness could barely contain them all.
The waves were forming into one long cascade of energy now. It was hard for Isilda to control all of it. She fought against the constant memories coming at her and the feeling inside of it of some consciousness wanting to take over her own. The sensations were growing painful and the convulsions in her body were wracking her with increased force.
Then everything went cold. The waves stopped, and darkness crept over her. She felt a snap come from inside of her, like some resistance in her mind had finally given in. She couldn't feel her body anymore, all she could feel is omnipresent cold that transcended any kind of physical sense.
"You should not be here." A soft feminine voice reached to her from the dark realm all around her. "You are meddling in things you were not meant to."
"Who are you?" Isilda ignored the cautionary words. She couldn't see anything and had no sense of body. She called out with her mind into the abyss all around her.
"You should not be here." The voice became more commanding and louder. The voice no longer seemed to be coming from a single point in the abyss, but rather from all directions at once.
"Maenthraya? Is that your name?" Isilda continued to ignore the voice. She tried to coalesce some astral form from her energies but every mote she gathered seemed to be dispersed on a wind that grew in intensity. "Why will you not share your secrets with me?"
"You mean nothing, young one. You don't know what powers you mettle with." The voice began to swirl around Isilda's consciousness while gathering force. "You pretend to know the powers you draw upon. You pretend to know the past of the world. You delude yourself with the purpose of your futile, and short life."
"What do you mean? All life has purpose." Isilda pressed her will forward and kept pushing against the growing winds around her. A slight incandescent form of her body could be seen beneath her. "I am here among the living. You are among the dead. I am the candle in the wind, and you are the echo of what has passed."
"That is precisely the source of your delusions, young one. You pull at energy that you don't know how to harness. You use arts that have had their time and died long ago. You walk into a den of evil and dare to pierce the secrets hidden within."
"The catacombs?" Isilda could feel more of her astral form growing in this place. She could feel the strong winds billowing on her ephemeral skin. She could hear the howls echoing throughout the darkness. "How is this a den of evil?"
"Mother dwells here, child." The voice was so loud as to be deafening now.
"Your mother? Merithault?" Isilda reached a hand out into the darkness, seeing the particles of energy making up her ghostly form. "Merithault is long gone. This is a place of the dead now."
"How naive you are." The winds pulled back for a moment and then hit Isilda like a hard wave once more. "Evil in this world does not die, it lingers and grows hale off the sins of humanity. She is as strong as ever. She bides her time until she can seek out the last of my blood." The winds dissipated Isilda's energy for a moment, but she reformed herself easily. "The last of our cursed lineage. The Forsaken. The Witchling of Alsira. The orphaned daughter of destruction and madness."
"Alsira? That is my home." Isilda paused for a moment to gather her fragmenting thoughts. "Who is this Witchling? Who is the last heir of your blood?"
The winds remained silent as they continued to whip around Isilda at a feverish pace. The darkness began to dwindle for a few moments, with images that looked like the skull cavern her physical body sat within. Isilda could see different perspectives of herself from out of her body.
"You are not meant to know. You aren't supposed to be here. Leave before mother returns." The winds howled against her. Isilda could see the hood on her head blow down her shoulders and her blonde hair rise and fall with each word.
"I must know. I can seek out the Witchling. I must know if I need to protect her."
"You are not meant to be here!" The voice tore through her like the skin-stripping sand-winds of her home during a storm. "Leave now, or suffer our fate!"
"Your fate? Who do you speak of?"
"Myself, my family, and all those of my children, their children, and onward."
"These skulls are your children? Who killed them and took their skulls to be placed in this cavern."
"Mother."
"Is your mother, Merithault? Are you the daughter of the Mad Oracle?"
The perspective of Isilda moved around her physical form. She could see herself from above, from the sides, and from other oblique angles. Each shift corresponded to each word spoken by the voice of the other entity in this abyss. The winds continued to gather and then suddenly went quiet.
"Leave!" A hard gust of wind hit Isilda and sent her physical form into a convulsion backward. "Now!" The next gust threw her physical form backward off the boulder she sat upon. Her hands broke contact with the skull.
Isilda opened her eyes and felt the pain growing in her neck, chest, and arms. She pulled herself from lying on the rock and ice-strewn floor of the cavern to get back to her feet. She could feel groans of pain from her body that grounded her more to her physical form.
She walked over to the boulder, sat down upon it once more, and defiantly held her hands over the skull once more. She wasn't going to let this stubborn entity hold secrets from her. She was here to find out what knowledge this place held, and she'd be damned to let an errant shade get the best of her.
Isilda held her hands over the skull and then let her fingertips touch the skull once more. She threw caution to the winds and began to pool energy within her without constraint. She was focused now and she would rip the knowledge from the entity whether it liked it or not.
Isilda felt her eyes begin to flutter as she tried to form the same tunnel in her mind as before. She could feel erratic sparks of her consciousness reaching out, but they never seemed to come back to her. She tried to close her eyes fully, but could not do so as they continued to flutter.
She tried to pivot her hands to get a better grip on the skull and she soon realized she could not move her body. With a hard snap, her head was tossed forward and then backward. Her eyes flew open and she could not manage to shut them.
She stared at the skull in front of her as silver-blue light began to flow from the dimming crystals overhead to pool around the skull in front of her. The metal of the skull grew painfully cold as the energy gathered. No matter the pain, she could not sever the connection between her and it.
Tears began to well up in her eyes, beginning first as water, and then with the sting of blood. The growing blood tears began to stream down her cheeks, freezing to them before reaching her chin. Her breath became pitched and the steam coming up from her nose and mouth soon dissipated. She could feel the cold air reaching into her lungs and freezing her from the inside out.
The blue light began to form a faint outline before her. It looked like the silhouette of a woman clad in ancient robes. Features slowly began to form within the energy until she could make out eyes and the vague features of a face.
Isilda began to cough hard, unable to draw in breath. She gave gulps, hoping to capture what she could, but air continued to escape her. She coughed once more and blood began to spatter out from her mouth. The droplets seemed to float on the air and slowly drift to the form in front of her.
Each cough and sputter gave more blood to the form, and each droplet met with the others, freezing in place and forming what looked like strands of hair draping from beneath the female form's hood. The form was enchanting and beautiful in a strange way.
Pain soared throughout Isilda's body. The pain in her chest felt like she was drowning in ice-cold waters. The chill of the metal skull tore through into her hands with a frostbite beyond any she had felt before. Her eyes continued to sting, and despite the blood frozen over them, she continued to see everything around her in a crystal focus.
"My name is Maenthrai. I am the daughter of Merithault. I am the last of the true oracles. I am inheritor of the blood-curse, from my mother to all those of my blood." The voice from the form before Isilda was hypnotic and commanding. She could hear every word, yet the accents of the language seemed foreign to her. "I was murdered by my mother after I created the Nesharite Spheres. I crafted them to keep our ancient culture alive, once I knew my mother would destroy all that had come before. I sought out the source of what turned my mother into the unliving creature she now is. In doing so, I found out the future of this world. I was given the choice to allow my mother to fulfill her dark impulses, or to hope that one of my heirs would be able to fight back against her."
Isilda continued to remain frozen in place. The words and visions began to wash over her consciousness. The form was now opaque although shadowed in darkness.
"It was my dying wish that I could redeem my mother, but I failed. The Spheres I built fell to unworthy hands. The world I wanted to save, has now crumbled to dust. The only hope remains in one of my lineage. The last one to be cursed with the true powers of Haeth. The one that can be found with the blood hair."
The form leaned in close to Isilda. She could feel sparks of energy hitting her chilled flesh. The pain inside of her made her want to die, but she had to stay conscious long enough to learn the secrets of Maenthrai.
"You are not supposed to be here, child. I have warned you and you still do not heed me. If you must suffer the fate of your ignorance, then I might as well impart my wisdom to you. Perhaps your soul can be of use, one day."
The form moved back from Isilda and reached out a hand in her direction. The hand seemed to be clothed in transparent flesh. The bones beneath shone through with brighter energy than the ephemeral flesh coating it. Searing cold emanated from the hand as it neared Isilda's face.
The hand reached forth and grabbed Isilda by the skull. Cold, skeletal fingers penetrated through her scalp and to her very bone. She could feel the cold pressing in on her mind, freezing her while exploding her consciousness from within.
"You wish to know what I know, and see what I have seen. Then so be it."
Isilda convulsed backward as a brilliant flash of light went off in her mind. The sensations were overpowering. The emotions were more than she could bear. The visions tore through her and made all that she had ever known seem like specks of dust on the wind. Her mind was being ripped apart from the inside-out as each revelation struck her with increasing ferocity.
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