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998 - Yu Nok Tor
🕑 Added 2023-12-04 16:00:10 +0000 UTCLeon and Tiraeses’ departure from the monastery came without much ceremony. After they agreed upon their course to Tell Kirin, the seat of Qo Weylekh, Tiraeses set about facilitating their move with an efficiency that Leon greatly appreciated. The monastery was locked down, what little that lay within was brought into Tiraeses’ soul realm, and the two met near the monastery’s main gate, where Leon and Tiraeses had first come face-to-face.
Of the two, Leon was the first to arrive, not having much to gather together. Tiraeses followed about half an hour later, his expression unreadable. He stepped out onto the flat stone platform and gazed out at the dunes to the east, saying not a word.
“Having second thoughts?” Leon asked.
“You asked me that before,” Tiraeses pointed out. “My answer remains the same.”
Leon jerked his head back toward the now-closed door to the monastery. “You may never see this place again. I… don’t see a way to fix this plane, though Ambrose—the other Grave Wardens may be able to intervene. May.”
Tiraeses took a long, deep breath. “It is in the hands of Mandious, Lord of All in Heaven. Let us no longer dwell on the past, but look ahead. Specifically, let us look to the journey in front of us. Shall we begin?”
“Let’s,” Leon responded, and together, the two launched themselves off the cliff and into the dunes.
It was immediately apparent that the enchantment Leon wrote to protect them from the darkness magic around them was working, as the oily darkness in the environment had a much harder time sticking to them. While this alleviated some of the pressure keeping them down, it wasn’t enough to allow them to fly, though Leon expected that.
Despite this limit on their abilities, they made good time, practically flying across the dunes as they ran and leaped around, crossing miles in seconds.
Not long after they left, they passed the corpse of the raelon—or rather, what was left of it. The darkness ate away at its flesh like extraordinarily quick decomposition, devouring all that was exposed to the air. No magic remained in the corpse to protect it, leaving it reduced to barely more than a skeleton sticking out of the dust. Leon found it rather remarkable but didn’t stop to remark upon it. He simply filed what had happened away to consider later.
‘Don’t die here,’ he thought with some sarcasm. ‘Won’t be much left to be sent home.’
Of course, the speed with which the raelon had rotted away was deeply disturbing and certainly explained much of what had happened to the formerly-fertile land that Leon and Tiraeses now ran through. What was left was beautiful in a stark way, but it was all rocks sticking out of dark gray dust, leaving little to draw the eye. Leon found himself zoning out as he followed Tiraeses through the seemingly endless dunes, wondering just what these particular places had looked like before their great ruin, and speculating as to the nature of the power that caused it.
[Does any of this look familiar?] Leon asked his soul realm’s passengers.
[I’ve never been here before in my life,] Xaphan responded.
[Your insight is, as always, supremely useful,] Leon responded. [Ancestor?]
[The Primal Gods and Devils were numerous beyond counting; humanity would never have usurped their position in the universe were it not for their infighting,] the Thunderbird responded. [As it is, I’m still surprised that humans managed what they did. But that’s irrelevant. Many of the Primal Gods and Devils had powers beyond what many of their fellows had, much like Ascended and Divine Beasts. Your rather saurian Ancestor, Leon, had incredibly destructive powers that none have managed to replicate since.
[What I’m saying is that I don’t recognize the effects of this Primal Devil’s power, though I’m under no illusions that it’s anything buta Primal Devil. I can’t tell you anything about them, though I wish I could.]
[Your insight is appreciated,] Leon replied, his tone far more genuine than his sarcastic response to Xaphan. [The enchantment seems to be working, though.]
[It warms my heart to see your skills improving,] the Thunderbird praised, an audible smile even in her mental voice. [It takes a learned enchanter to weave together modern and ancient runes.]
[Maybe soon he can actually make something notable,] Xaphan caustically added. [A few weapons aren’t enough where you’re going.]
[The demon shits from the wrong hole, but he’s not wrong in principle,] the Thunderbird growled. [Should you survive your current foolishness, you’re going to need to drastically increase the power of your forces—whether by your hand, or someone else’s.]
Leon scowled. [There are only so many hours in the day, and I have to carve some off to be King.]
[Delegate, boy,] Xaphan crackled.
Leon clicked his tongue but didn’t argue; he knew the advice was right. He couldn’t do everything himself, and neither did he intend to try. But as a King, he knew he ought to do at least something.
[I’ll think about it,] he responded. [In the meantime, would you two kindly help me analyze this Primal Devil’s power? I’d like to see if my enchantment can be made more efficient…]
And like that, Leon and Tiraeses sped onward toward Yu Nok Tor, their first stop.
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It was a long and fairly silent journey to Yu Nok Tor. The landscape was unforgivingly barren, with hardly any sign of vegetation anywhere. Everything was gray and black and bleak. At least they left the dust dunes after about a day, and the black storm that might’ve blocked their path forward cleared up before they were forced to contend with it, leaving them running over bare dirt and stone, with only the odd stump or bit of wood to tell where a grove of trees had once grown, or a small trench where a river had once flowed. The land had been nigh-irrevocably poisoned; Leon didn’t think anything would grow here again without at least a century of devoted, expensive attention from powerful nature mages. Even the Sacred Golden Empire might balk at the level of land restoration that Arkhnavi would need.
Several times along their journey Tiraeses called them to a stop, usually at the top of a hill, to survey their surroundings. These places, Tiraeses told Leon, had once been villages and towns, some big enough to almost be considered full cities.
Now, only the wastes remained. Relatively flat plains with only the barest hint when viewed from above that anything had once been built there, or perhaps a few blackened piles of stone where a larger building had once stood. It was like something had tried to wipe away all traces of human settlement on Arkhnavi, and had very nearly succeeded.
However, as they continued, the signs of human habitation—rare though they remained—increased. A few more clusters of ruined stone than the last place to demarcate a town, though not once did Leon or Tiraeses ever discover organic remains, whether human or animal. The sturdiest of buildings remained, albeit ruined beyond recognition, while everything else was gone.
“People used to laugh and sing in these places,” Tiraeses eventually said to Leon as they stopped at the edges of a line of hills, the last natural boundary between them and Yu Nok Tor. Once they were high enough in those hills, they’d be able to see the city itself—or whatever remained of it. “They would love one another and honor the gods,” Tiraeses continued, his tone dark. His voice hitched, but he managed to choke out, “I-I… had prayed… that some might yet… remain.”
Leon kept his mouth shut. He had no emotional connection to these places and could barely identify their stops as having once been human settlements at all. He had no idea what to say to the old monk.
“I… by the gods, the Red-Eyed One has taken everyone, hasn’t it? I am alone, with no one…” Tiraeses’ voice caught again, and again he went silent.
After a moment, Leon said as soothingly as he could while they still made their way through the hills, “You survived. Perhaps others did, too. Some in far-flung corners of Arkhnavi, or some underground shelter, like you. Billions must have lived on this plane; they can’t all have succumbed…”
“My faith has been tested many times,” Tiraeses responded. “Valiant Ashatar and Strong Ashagon both have tested me more times than I care to count. The Mothers Above and Below; Mandious, Lord of All in Heaven… My home has been forsaken. Had I not followed you, I would have remained ignorant, but hopeful. I would have had reasons to keep praying. Now I know it is futile. My people are gone, already judged by Just Helior.”
Tiraeses came to a slow halt at the base of the highest hill in the range. From its top, they would be able to see Yu Nok Tor—unless another black storm or another kind of shroud obscured their vision. But these hills were supposed to be inhabited by small farming communities, and Leon had seen none, which boded ill for the city.
Leon halted beside the old monk, and together, they stared up at the top of the hill. All that separated them from knowing what was beyond.
“The stories I heard of the curse and pestilence…” Tiraeses whispered. “I… dread what may lay before us, Leon.”
Leon laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Is it better to stop here and remain ignorant and retain that last shred of hope? Or is it better to face the hard truth?”
Tiraeses remained silent for a long moment, his green and purple eyes locked upon the summit of the hill. Then he slowly nodded and said, “I would know. I would know. I would see what has become of the people of Yu Nok Tor.”
Slowly, at an almost mortal pace, Leon and Tiraeses ascended the rocky hill. Leon didn’t begrudge the slower pace, knowing that Tiraeses likely needed it. The monk had been light on the details of what he’d been doing for the past seventy years, but Leon gathered it hadn’t been adventuring around the plane to see what had become of the other people that lived upon it. Now he was getting a feeling like Tiraeses never wanted to know.
Despite that attitude, neither he nor Tiraeses stopped again until they reached the top of the hill and beheld what lay beyond.
A valley between hill ranges lay before them, a long, wide, and still-flowing river bisecting it length-wise, its water black and thick. Sat upon the river was a city, dark and desolate, but still intact enough to recognize it as a city. Buildings numbering in the thousands could be seen, mostly made of reddish-brown bricks, nearly all in substantial states of ruin, and the only sound that could be heard from within the city was the howling of the wind through its empty streets. Above the city hung a strange purple glow, though Leon couldn’t see deep enough into the city to find the source.
It was almost worse than seeing nothing at all. Tiraeses dropped to his knees and began muttering prayers to his gods, while Leon simply stood and stared at the extent of the ruin. Everything had gone to the hells barely a century ago, and yet the city looked like it had been abandoned for millennia. Not a soul could be seen within it, though he kindled a small ember of hope that if the city remained at least this intact, then someone could’ve lived within it.
When Tiraeses paused in his prayers, Leon vocalized just that, but Tiraeses simply pushed himself back to his feet and said, “No one lives there. The Red-Eyed One has taken them all. Only husks remain.”
Leon raised an eyebrow and was about to ask after his meaning, but Tiraeses leaped down from the hill and began sprinting for the outskirts of the city, and Leon was forced to run after him.
Yu Nok Tor was about twenty miles of relatively rough ground away from the hill, but it only took a few minutes for the two powerful mages to cover that distance. Tiraeses moved so quickly that it wasn’t until they came running into the suburbs and he finally stopped that Leon caught up to him.
But Leon didn’t immediately say anything despite his questions. Every step he took filled him with dread; the black aura around them grew stronger with startling speed as they moved closer to the city, and waves of another, more concentrated power were washing over his defenses with ever-increasing power, though none yet managing to get through.
“What is this?” he asked as he focused his magic senses to identify what this power was.
“The curse,” Tiraeses said as his purple eyes glowed brighter, his aura rising to match the waves of power and protect himself. Fortunately for Leon, his armor was strong enough that he didn’t need such active defenses, though he kept his body surging with lightning just in case.
“Explain this curse to me,” Leon imperiously asked.
“It destroys the mind and ruins the body,” Tiraeses said. “Turns men to beasts, and beasts to dust.” Despite his grim tone, Tiraeses strode forward, his aura matching every wave of the ‘curse’ and giving no ground. Leon followed, though he kept his magic senses on high alert.
[Sounds just like the power of a Primal Devil,] the Thunderbird observed. [This is a ritual much like how the Devil’s progeny, the demons, gain their power: by siphoning it from others, like parasites.]
[Don’t look at me, I never allowed blood sacrifices,] Xaphan practically spat. [I have no interest in such inferior methods for gaining power. Convincing others to give you their power willingly is always far more potent.]
[Yes, yes, you’re such a good demon,] the Thunderbird crowed. [Leon, this ritual is essentially the more powerful precursor to what the demons as a wholedo. All power inherent in life is ripped from that which bears it, is captured by the ritual’s focus, and then channeled into the Primal Devil on the other end. Your companion spoke the truth: such a traumatic process would drive everyone murderously insane, and eventually destroy them. Not even a corpse would be left behind.]
Leon deeply frowned. [Why is the ritual still going?] he asked. [Wouldn’t it have finished by now? Doesn’t it cost power to maintain?]
The Thunderbird was silent for a moment as everyone turned the problem over in their heads.
Xaphan was the first to suggest a theory. [I would not fill you with false hope Leon, but it could be because the Primal Devil this ritual benefits… hasn’t yet been released. It still needs more power.]
[Or it’s just greedy,] the Thunderbird countered. [It seeks to rip every last shred of power from this plane before departing. Or it needs this kind of siphon to remain active for some unknown purpose.]
[Maybe to keep the plane inundated in its power?] Leon offered as explanation. [This ritual remains active, allowing the Primal Devil’s power to fully saturate the plane by ensuring all foreign magic power is captured?]
As the implications deepened, Leon grabbed Tiraeses’ arm, preventing him from venturing deeper into the city.
“Wait,” Leon sternly said, his tone brokering no argument. Tiraeses looked for a moment like he wanted to protest, but Leon glared at him, daring him to try. The old monk wisely kept his mouth shut.
[Will using magic here be a problem?] Leon asked.
[In most circumstances, I would advise against it,] the Thunderbird replied. [But you have a Universe Fragment; even a Primal Devil would not be able to control such power without the Fragment’s leave.]
[Don’t take that as law,] Xaphan cautioned. [This power is intense; its source is a powerful Devil. Ancient and strong; if there is an exception to what the pigeon just said out there, this Devil would be it. Again, I would urge you to leave this city and then the plane. Do not press further, and do not feed this ritual with power. Leave.]
Leon stared at the shells of buildings around them, fairly small and scattered as they were still out in the suburbs, then glanced further down the street. He couldn’t see that far as several blocks down the street ended at a five-story building, but the tallest towers of the city could still be seen crumbling in the distance.
“There’s no one here,” he stated.
“You said someone could be,” Tiraeses quietly responded.
Leon glared at him. “This power is different. Dangerous. We’re not prepared for it.” He quickly filled the monk in on everything he, Xaphan, and the Thunderbird had discussed.
Tiraeses’ face fell as Leon continued. “The people here… taken by this ritual…? Denied even rest? Stolen from the Red-Eyed One and the judgment of Just Helior? Such profane power… cannot be allowed to exist…”
He made to break free of Leon’s grip, but Leon tightened his hold and began dragging Tiraeses out of the city. As he did, he steeled his heart and his pride. They’d made good time and only a week had passed since leaving Tiraeses’ monastery. Leon had hardly scratched the surface of what had happened on Arkhnavi, but he felt given what he was encountering, honor had been satisfied, and it was time to return to…
He stopped, his thoughts frozen from surprise, as he stared down a side street that exited into a large plaza with a fountain in the center. The fountain was simple, simply a bowl sat upon a column from where the black river water oozed over the rim into the large pool at its base.
Kneeling in front of the pool was a recognizably human figure; their spine arched back beyond the limits of comfort; their arms spread wide as if welcoming something; their head lolled back and limply hanging from their neck, pointing back down the street directly at Leon and Tiraeses. The figure’s skin appeared the color and texture of charcoal, with not a stitch of clothing covering it. Despite this, their body was so mutilated and emaciated that he couldn’t tell if the figure was a man or woman. Worst of all, their eye sockets were empty, their nose gone, and the desiccated remains of the flesh on their face had been pulled back from their blackened teeth into a terrible, unnatural grin. Not a speck of magical power emanated from the figure, and the body seemed frozen in that position, as if whatever had seemingly charred them had also petrified them.
And yet… it hadn’t been there only a moment ago when Leon and Tiraeses had first come down the street. Leon stared at the figure in shock, the thing appearing to be immobile, yet had clearly not been there before.
And then the limply hanging head twitched and turned slightly, the few wispy remnants of blackened hair that still stubbornly clung to the figure’s skull shakingly slightly, and a terrible shudder traveled up Leon’s spine.
Something could see him. Something knew he was there.
The figure twitched again, a sickening crack resounding through the streets.
“Run,” Leon growled, and this time, there wasn’t so much as a look of reproach from Tiraeses.
They hadn’t even turned when the figure’s exposed jaw opened and a terrible, inhuman screech filled the air, and the city was suddenly filled with the sounds of motion.
“RUN!” Leon shouted again, and he and Tiraeses began running back the way they’d come as the dark aura of the city intensified, focusing on them, and the ruined buildings began to shake as things moved within them, roaring and screeching and growling.
The city, it seemed, wasn’t nearly as deserted as first impressions had led them to believe…
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Comments
seth4bucks
Thanks for the chapter
Warden
He was dragging Tiraeses away from the city so that he could use the twig without fear of it being interfered with by the power that's inundating the city. Those were his intentions that were being described before he saw the figure at the end, leaving it only strongly implied. He'd done enough to satisfy the spirit of his agreement with Ambrose, now he's ready to gtfo.
Runaway_Cactuar
Surely at this point Leon could see that he is way over his head, right? I get that narratively, Leon must continue, but the plot hasn't provided a reason why he's so suicidally insistent on staying when he has so much to lose should he die.
