Anneliese and Onychinusa sat on the rocks of the mountain peak. The ancient elf stared at the snow elf.
“Your braid is pretty,” Onychinusa said matter-of-factly. “I tried to copy it, but I couldn’t.”
Anneliese smiled at the sincerity as her fingers brushed the half-crown braid keeping her hair back. She suggested, “The dryads could braid your hair. I know they always miss seeing you.”
“They put wood and stuff in there. Something about dryad wood is special. It makes it harder for the spirits to carry me from place to place.” Onychinusa shook her head, and then looked to where Orion and Argrave conversed with the ancient serpent Vasquer. “Why did they come here?”
“Argrave is going to ask Vasquer to watch the underground near this area. And he has some important questions, too.” Anneliese explained succinctly. “Threats come from below. And on that front… you said you did what we wanted?”
“I’ve been warding all of Vasquer against divinity,” Onychinusa nodded, then rocked back and forth atop her seat. “Blackgard has enough spirits guarding it that divinity cannot enter without a link to the area. If they’re already manifested, they could force their way through. Spirits can’t pass, too, so unwanted people can’t teleport inside the mountains, anymore. Only you, me, and Argrave can. If anyone else tries, either in or out… they end up a few miles underwater. Hopefully, they’ll drown.”
Anneliese smiled broadly. “That is exceptional, Onychinusa.”
Onychinusa seemed to take the praise well as she rocked quicker. “Elsewhere… I made some spirits act as detectors. They’ll roam about the land, and whenever they detect divinity, they’ll return with that knowledge.”
“The spirits can communicate?” Anneliese tilted her head. “Argrave never mentioned that, and I certainly have never read that.”
“…no.” Onychinusa shook her head slowly. “But I make the spirit store the location the divinity was spotted, and then I can teleport to that spot.”
Anneliese exhaled loudly. “Shamanic magic is a wondrous thing. But I suppose that only happened because you were the one using it, right?”
“Erlebnis made these spells, I think. Maybe what I’m doing now was supposed to be my purpose,” Onychinusa suggested. “The emissaries can’t use shamanic magic. Nothing from divine realms can. It would make sense”
“That may be the case,” Anneliese conceded, rising from her seat to come near Onychinusa. “We have had this talk many times before. All I hope is that you are happier and freer, now.”
“Hmm,” came Onychinusa’s only response.
Anneliese looked down the mountain road. “Perhaps… someday, you might consider meeting more than merely us three.”
Onychinusa looked disgusted. “No. I don’t like people.”
“You don’t like people? Why not?” Anneliese inquired.
“I don’t like… their faces,” Onychinusa managed. “And they can talk. And… I don’t like their faces,” she finished, repeating herself.
“How am I different from them?” Anneliese asked.
“I don’t want to do it,” Onychinusa refused firmly. “I can do it. I just don’t want to. Talking to people… makes my head hurt.” She looked up at Anneliese. “Not you, but others. I have to learn their name, listen to what they think… bleh.” She stuck out her tongue.
Anneliese did look minutely disappointed. Still, she looked off elsewhere and said, “Okay. That’s fine.”
Onychinusa looked like a great weight had been taken off her shoulders, and settled back onto the uneven rocks of the mountain with a comfort that did not seem to match. “What are they asking about?” she inquired, her eyes on the distant ancient serpent.
“What else?” Anneliese sat down beside Onychinusa. “The cycle of judgment. More specifically… they hope to gain greater insight into what you’ve been working to prevent.”
#####
A remarkably beautiful brunette woman walked down a flight of white stairs, keeping her hand to the tightly closed walls to support herself. When blue light came stronger from ahead, she took her hand off the wall, becoming more confident. Slowly, Georgina’s full figure was illuminated as she pressed down below. She couldn’t help but inhale when she came to the end of the stairs, where the city of the ancient dwarves waited beyond.
The cities of the dwarves were far unlike anything one might find on the surface… and now that it had been claimed by the Ebon Cult, this place’s beauty was amplified. In the vast, quarried cavern, streets of the purest white marble continued for as far as the eye could see. The buildings were massive works of architecture, some standing taller than the walls of Dirracha or Mateth. Magic lamps hung from walls and stood in the streets, but they had long ago dimmed and died. Instead, the whole of the place was kept illuminated by a network of ethereal blue lights that hung in the air like an aurora borealis.
Georgina couldn’t help but smile seeing those lights again. She had carried a cage of them to the surface with her, and in the fight with Durran, the glaive-wielding southern tribal, the manifestation of those lights was the only thing that preserved her life. But even despite the gift of power, she now returned to this place empty-handed. She set off walking through the streets, heading for the back of this city where a palace awaited. It seemed to be the origin of the airborne aurora, as a swirling vortex of blue and teal rose to the sky from the top of a broken marble dome.
She was not alone in the streets. Adherents to the Ebon Cult walked in plain sight, each and all with purple metallic masks over their face. Some were nothing more than metal crudely molded into vague faces, while others were elaborate recreations of demons or angels. And only a few had a mask that bore nothing on it at all. Theirs were merely a blank slate of purplish metal. Georgina felt isolated with a bare face among them all, but she persisted forth nonetheless.
After walking what felt like an eternity, Georgina arrived at the foot of the palace. She stepped up its wide marble stairs, heading for the entrance. She could feel the power of the twisting blue lights above, pushing against her skin as a constant force. She walked through the arched doorway, heading into the palace.
Awaiting her was a huge marble doorway. It had been etched with the blue lights she saw outside in a pattern somewhat like a snowflake. A woman in a purple robe stood in front of the door, her hands placed before her. She had a mask, too, though hers was unlike any others Georgina had seen coming here. It bore the face of an owl in startling clarity despite the uniformity of the purple color.
Georgina kneeled. “I’ve come back.”
“Mozzahr will be pleased,” the woman said.
Georgina fidgeted. “…I think he prefers to have you call him father, Mial.”
“He cannot get everything he wants,” Mial answered. “Rise. Tell me of your journey.”
Georgina rose, coming to stand beside Mial. The two of them took a turn, walking deeper into the palace with all the comfortability of old friends.
“…I came this close to obtaining the king.” Georgina held her fingers thinly apart with a frustrated sadness. “I had him. He was mine. And then…” she sighed, shaking her head. “Madness. Madness and unpredictability. He perished.”
“Truly?” Mial asked in surprise. “Mozzahr… he never expected you to obtain the king, you realize. It was something he said only as an offhand remark.”
“But I tried. I know the castellan wanted it, even if he’d never expect to actually get it. So I tried. What he’s doing deserves that much.” Georgina sounded utterly frustrated with herself.
Mial nodded, adjusting her owl mask as it tilted slightly. “But this didn’t compromise…?”
“I would never leave the stag alive while I go off to hunt a rabbit. The main mission remained my priority, and I have plenty to offer.” Georgina nodded. “And maybe it’s unwanted… but I can offer intuition, too.”
“Mozzahr may not hear it.” Mial stopped. “But I can, if you wish it.”
Georgina looked at her and smiled. “And say it in my stead? Only if you agree with it, of course.” When Mial waited, saying nothing further, Georgina began, “The king died, as you know. Someone new took his place. And this someone new is someone… compromised.” She placed her hands on her hip and looked off to the side. “I suspect he’s working for Erlebnis, an ancient god of knowledge. And consequently, I suspect he may already know of the castellan’s existence.”
Mial scrutinized Georgina carefully. “On what basis?”
“The completion of his knowledge.” Georgina’s head whipped back. “I thought it might be due to his alliance with someone called the Bat, at first. Their association isn’t public knowledge, but I’ve seen enough to work out that they’re undoubtedly working together. But as I saw and heard more, I came to think it was deeper than that. And what occurred in the Bloodwoods confirmed that for me.”
“What would the implication of that be?” Mial indulged patiently.
“The implication would be that he knows about your forces.” Georgina walked around as she explained. “That he knows about your strengths and weaknesses, that he knows about any avenues of attack you might take when you decide to claim the land on the surface.”
Mial fixed her mask with a tight anger. “That would mean traitors in the cult.”
“Not witting traitors… no, perhaps not traitors at all,” she countered quickly. “Some eyes and ears have been in place long before your arrival. They might as well be the ground and the walls. It cannot be avoided.”
Mial turned away, and Georgina stared at her dark hair. Its color was almost like obsidian. She seemed to be deliberating on something. After a long time, she turned back.
“If he takes the battlefield, Mozzahr cannot be defeated by anyone, divine or mortal. But it is the rest of the cult that worries me.” Mial put a hand to her chin just beneath the owl mask. “My father’s strength must be preserved for his duty. It should not be expended for a minor battle with a minor king. We have been incredibly fortunate that his strength was not wasted by Gerechtigkeit’s meddling, and that trend should not falter now. It is imperative we of the Ebon Cult do more than our part.”
“We?” Georgina repeated.
“Ah.” Mial lowered her hand from her chin. “I spoke before I ought to have. But… yes. Come, Georgina. I believe it time that you join the Castellan of the Empty in his task to change the cycle of judgment forever. I have prepared a mask for you…”
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶