Mar'iya sees the light
14
OCT/20
The wraiths rose slowly out of the ground, moving with silent, incorporeal malice; slowly coalescing into inky black clouds inset with glowing red eyes. The creatures drifted forward like smoke caught in a stiff breeze, all the while dissembling and reforming into a wispy mass of shadow; at times very nearly resembling something almost human – but a human whose features were twisted and contorted by an unnatural, seething rage. And those eyes…those eyes burned with an unholy hatred; orbs of pure malevolence that cast their baleful gaze about them in search of prey. These creatures were manifestations of pure hunger that craved the flesh of the living, and they had just been presented with a bountiful feast.
The team responded to this new threat quickly, moving with purpose and precision. David positioned himself up one side of the narrow hall, his shield held at the ready, somehow able to use it to keep the shifting mass of tendriled nothingness off of him. Oni took the farmost position, holding off another one of the creatures, blasting the unholy aberration with staccato bursts of radiant light from his fists. Sora engaged the wraith that manifested in the middle of the hall, lashing out at it Enduval. With barely controlled rage, the mighty dragonborn warrior used the magical blade to handily hack off the shadowy tendrils that grasped at her, dissolving the severed appendages into a fine, necrotic mist. Naga wisely stayed out of the fray and engaged the creatures at range, hurling bolts of eldritch energy while staying ready to bolster his allies with his healing magic should it be required. They really had grown more than competent in their short time together it occurred to Mar’iya, as he confounded the amorphous shadow on David with damaging and distracting psionic illusions. This place was dangerous and strange, but it was no match for them if they worked in unison, especially now that she had found her way back to them.
Selise launched razor tip bolts from her crossbow with deadly accuracy and startling speed; the projectiles whizzing past Mar’iya’s head and striking solidly into the wraith that was attempting to subsume David. The creature let out a low wail as the arrows found purchase; the bolts remained floating in midair, sticking haphazardly out of the mass of inky black smoke. Selise had only just rejoined their group, yet she seemed to fit back in seamlessly. The curious magic of this place had summoned her here to them only a few short hours ago; the persistent tug of the threads of Fate was very powerful indeed. There was a new sharpness to Selise, and a coldness too: she was a steel blade honed to a razor-sharp edge. She had spilt blood upon the streets of Raam, and she now moved with a new lethality of purpose. Her experiences in the city, coupled with the knowledge of the death of her tribe and her family had changed her; gone was the curious young Yava’pai girl and in her place stood a killer.
A triumphant roar from behind him alerted Mar’iya that Sora had dropped her foe. A brief glance over his shoulder showed him that the wraith by her had exploded into tiny droplets of dark mist which sank to the ground with an audible hiss, before dissipating into nothingness. The smile on Mar’iya’s face matched the one worn by the mighty dragonborn at the realization that the tide of this battle had just turned in their favor. Mar’iya made eye contact with the mighty gladiator and nodded in approval, but Sora returned his gaze with a look of crazed paranoia and barely contained rage. He was more than a little surprised when she charged at him with her new steel blade held high…
Mar’iya was taken aback by the relentless assault as Sora’s blade drove deep into his side; her eyes burning with anger as she grinned in exultation as her wicked steel blade connected with a sickening, wet sound. Mar’iya gasped in pain as Sora readied a second swing of her terrible blade, and he couldn’t help but notice his reflection mirrored back at him upon Sora’s metallic skin: the visage of a scarred and burned man wearing a mask of pain, fear, and confusion stared back at him a dozen times in her silvery scales. He put his hands up before him in feeble protest as her mighty sword bore down upon him again. In a panic, Mar’iya reached out with his mind and erased himself from view and pressed himself flat against the cold stone wall of the maze, and her sword found nothing but air.
“Is this how I die? Betrayed by the Gardiward house at long last. Of course they would turn on me, but why did they wait so long? Why now? Why not when we had succeeded in our mission?” Mar’iya thought frantically, as Sora looked about in confusion at her enemy’s disappearance. “Was David in on it as well?” The young Psion was still focusing his attention upon the undead beast on his flank, lashing out at it with a sword of glowing, psionic energy. It had been clear to Mar’iya that Sora and David were conjoined by golden strands of Fate, their futures inexorably intertwined. And it was not lost on him either, that whatever weaknesses that Sora might have – her susceptibility to his Psionic powers – David more than made up for; his mental prowess was nearly a match for his own. The two of them working in concordance were virtually the perfect team: Sora possessing martial might, strength, and stamina unparalleled, and David providing a formidable mental counterpoint. Fighting one of them would be a challenge; fighting both together would be folly. If this was a trap, it was a well-thought out one.
Fortunately, betrayal did not seem to be the rationale behind Sora’s surprise attack: as the fighting progressed, it became clear that the magical blade Enduval held sway over the mighty dragonborn. It fed Sora’s natural fiery rage, stoking the flames until they burned out of control and threatened to consume friend and foe alike. The power of this artifact was very tantalizing, but in the hands of a warrior of Sora’s strength and skill, the recklessness of its gift spelled their doom. They would need to find a way to remove it from her or else they…well, let’s hope it didn’t come to the or else.
Naga’s healing magic washed over Mar’iya in a warm wave, and the grievous wound Sora had inflicted on him knit itself closed with glowing strands of golden light. This benevolent magic was a strange gift for the Dark Goddess to bestow upon one of Her servants, as Tiamat was not known for Her charity. One had to wonder what the true cost was for such gifts? What did the Dark Goddess demand in return for a taste of Her power?
Mar’iya started to stammer a thank you to the young elf, when he noticed the look of surprise that overtook Naga’s face. Mar’iya turned with a start and found himself staring into glowing red eyes set into a seething black mass of shadow. More wraiths! Caught off guard, Mar’iya scrambled backwards, reaching into the recesses of his mind for a reserve of power. Before he could activate any defenses, the dark creature lashed out with a shadowy arm, the ghostly appendage easily passing through Mar’iya’s skin as it grabbed on to his beating heart. Mar’iya gasped in surprise and pain, an icy cloud of condensation bursting from his mouth as an unnatural chill spread through his body. The mass of dark shadows in front of him coalesced into a skeletal creature that flashed a satisfied grin as it proceeded to wrench Mar’iya’s soul free of its mortal anchor. A brief freezing, burning agony followed by blissful nothingness…
The darkness that enveloped him was complete. It was everything that ever was; it was the period at the end of the run-on sentence of life. There was a certain pleasure to it, though. There was a distinct lack of pain; a lack of purpose, unfulfilled, and a lack of caring about it all. There was a small sense of regret for things left undone; of things left unsaid; and also for things done and said. But the sheer enormity of finality made these regrets seem distant and insignificant – and they diminished even further as the powerful current of death carried him far from these earthly worries. At first Mar’iya wrestled in vain against its powerful pull, but he soon forgot why he was struggling at all – finally giving in to inevitability, he allowed the darkness to wash him away.
He floated there, alone in the morass of nothingness for an eternity, before…Ahh, there you are. The voice roused him from the dark void. Time had no meaning in this place – how long had he slumbered? Lord Vashir the voice all but sneered derisively. I must admit that I am surprised that it took you so long to come here, to this precipice at the edge of life and death. I thought that I had sent you here myself, but you ever stubbornly refused my invitation to erase you from this world. He could see him now, handsome and cruel; his black eyes standing out even in the midst of the total darkness, making his surroundings seem bright as day by contrast. His memories did the rest, fabricating his visage from the blackened ashes that swirled around him; forming him out of the very blackness of death itself. A red cloak settled dramatically over his steel plate armor, a condescending sneer on his young face, there stood the Thir-King himself, in all of his malevolent glory. Around his neck he wore a silver cord running through the bands of dozens of iron rings. Each ring represented a noble house that the sorcerer king had crushed beneath his steel boot in an effort to grow or maintain his power, or to simply sate his bloodlust, ego, or an idle whim. Though he could not see it from this distance, Mar’iya knew that his own family’s signet was likewise displayed, nestled there amidst those cold, lifeless trophies, a relic to stolen glory. As if noticing his gaze, the Thir-king’s cruel smile widened. Yes, House Tenewrath is currently being wiped from memory, erased completely from the ledger of the living. Your house will be ground to dust. Any who ever knew your face will likewise be wiped from existence. Then, when your very memory has been lost to all time, will your death be truly complete. I have seen you now – I sensed you briefly the other day when you last dallied upon this precipice, at the border between life and death; but you somehow hid yourself from my sight. It did not take you long to return here however, and I shall not lose note of you again…
As the voice echoed in his mind, Mar’iya was dimly aware of a bright light growing from behind him. He turned slowly and beheld the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen. Rising out of the pitch blackness was a perfect orb that glowed with luminous golds and oranges and blues and reds; fiery streamers of every color in between rose off of it into the darkness, until the light slowly eroded the gloom away with its stubborn, insistent glory. The warming rays searched frantically for him, before finally finding him there in the cold darkness, and they beckoned to him to return to the land of the living. As the healing waves washed over him, the Thir-King’s laughter echoed in his head as his soul raced to rejoin its earthly twin; and for some reason Mar’iya found himself thinking about Arnai, the young serving girl who had so adeptly stolen Oni’s heart…