A soft landing was not in the cards, though it was certainly wet.
Not that Araminta had a clue of what happened when her backside was no longer sliding down smooth stone and suddenly she was free falling in the air. She’d landed hard enough in an unceremonious heap that it that it knocked all the sense right out of her. Not so much that she was unconscious, but she’d definitely rolled once or twice upon her landing and then found herself blinking owlishly in the blinding dark.
Her lantern had come out unscathed but the candle burned out.
The ground was damp enough that it’d soaked through her clothes and smelled of standing water and mildew. She’d been senseless long enough she hadn’t heard whether or not Theon had followed behind her, but not so long that she wasn’t already sitting up and squinting around in the dark.
“Theon!” she called out quickly, both so he’d know she was in one piece and to simply assure herself he was nearby!
For the time being, no one had come sliding down after the pair, only now that they knew there were intruders it’d only be a matter of time before they ran into the cultists and potentially even the demon again.
It was by no means a gracious fall into the opening blackened maw of a swallowing hole. Though when one came to land in a rolling tumble –avoiding in hopes of cracking or breaking a ankle bone in wherever the hell this was- he was making a not so hasty spring back to feet. Taking a moment to internally hiss at the way the wet floor had come up to greet at all. Stealing a feeble added second to peer fruitlessly up.
As if it was going to suddenly burst into light for anything, and he wasn’t finding that some great big demon had managed to break through the wall to plunge down after.
Closing eyes a moment and tugging figuratively the means of nerves to snap back into place, he heard her call. “Ara.” Beckoning back to summon a fresh ball of flame to illuminate now seeing as well, if there was something down here that wanted to play with fire, he was more than willing to throw it at them. Again.
Maybe his most efficient spell to have mastered practically shouldn’t have been fireball.
No sense in quipping over that, he got to his feet. Looking around and considering the smells of the very place that was seemingly just a cave or tunnel of some sorts. It took him a minute to properly locate her and of course, “Are you hurt?”
“I cracked my head, I am a little dizzy,” she admitted. Finding that as fire lit up the space around them, they now appeared to be in some natural underground tunnel. Thankfully for the moment they weren’t being chased, though Araminta knew it wasn’t wise to stay in one place for long.
Slowly she gathered back up to her feet, making a few disgruntled noises about was surely going to be a lot of ugly bruises thanks to such a fall. Her tailbone sure smarted too, she might not sit for awhile! Satisfied that nothing was broken, Araminta spun around to find her lantern. Plucking up from where it landed in the puddled water to frown at the burned out candle. At least the thing wasn’t cracked or broken and she had a few more candles to replace it with. Already shifting herself about to dig in her bag.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking upwards from whence they fell with a fresh grimace. Not sure which part she was the most sorry for, but she may as well apologize for all of it. As Theon was now trapped down here in this dangerous place, now with cultists and a demon likely to be hunting them. Still with no idea where a lich might be hiding or where that lich hide a phylactery. Only grateful that at least they weren’t chained in irons within a terrible dungeon, for there were still options for what they could do next.
Just that little admission was enough for him to hasten his attention more than it already was to her. Inwardly going through the means of what to check her for and how to handle anything that might have been unfortunately cracked depending on how hard she clunked her skull. Laying gaze up and down before, “We should get you checked over.” Stating it because it wouldn’t do her or him any good if she passed out all the sudden from pressure on her noggin.
Just that when she gathered her lantern and looked like she was preparing to go rooting around in her bag, it was just the two words that caused him to stall.
Laying over his sights upon her in a vain attempt to figure out what she was apologizing for before ultimately deciding there was nothing the words were meant to be attached too. If they wanted to get into semantics, it might be on him for suggesting they come down into the dungeon at all! Because at this point, potentially dealing with undead seemed far less of a problem compared to that of the demons and cultists! “No.” A gentle decline and he wasn’t about to start splitting hairs.
“Let me look to see if you are bleeding, please.”
With her lantern reclaimed and a fresh candle added inside, she did not hesitate in the slightest to wander over to Theon and allow him the means of checking her over. Doing a small glance of him in her own subtle way, just incase he was moving awkwardly and refusing to say something about it. If she refused him the chance to care for her – if she dared tried to brush it off as a simple I’m fine – he’d likely not trust her in the future for anymore dangerous endeavors. Araminta did not want to test and find out how Theon might get mad and frustrated with her!
“I am sorry anyway for the danger you are now in,” she insisted stubbornly. Even as she stood there waiting for him to do as he wished, she was glancing about the strange cavern they’d fallen into trying to think ahead to the next steps.
It was possible there were more ways down here. And out, for that matter. A castle so large wouldn’t have been built without a good foundation – like the mausoleum. Hidden tunnels surely would’ve been added in case of attack and invasions. This might’ve been just the sort of place that was used for a secret escape, for hiding citizens, or even armies. There would be a way out.
“…participants in the trial might not think to look beneath the castle for hiding places.” she suggested as she thought it out. “They might think of dungeons and lower crypts, but not realize of hidden places even further down below?”
Once she had her items reclaimed and appeared ready for him to properly check her over, he did so. A slow motion that was natural to indicate that he was going to be potentially physical. Gentle of course especially pertaining to that of head. Light touched and ginger movement to feel along crown in case there was something sticky or wet. Outside from the water that had been her landing pad. Watching for any sort of a jumping discomfort that came from accidentally finding an injury and moved it in such a way.
Seemingly given Araminta a chance to declare just what she was sorry about. Which amounted to an apology about the danger he was now in. Again, “No.” A polite decline that he wasn’t bound to accept it even with further explanation. Because between the two of them, he was far more practiced with the means of danger.
He couldn’t feel anything out of sorts, “If you feel sick to your stomach. Tell me.” Was all he had to say about it. It wasn’t as though he didn’t wish to heal her but already dropping a fireball and a small holy spell now with the little flame, he was being cautious about the pull of the means of magic. Healing anything minor would be put aside but if she felt sick to her stomach, and dizzy as well, it could be a sign of something further. Something he would have to try and deal with promptly at that time.
For now, Theon shared another look around ask she spoke about how other potential trial goers likely didn’t realize there was a place even further down. He hadn’t, certainly. “Likely.” Agreeing, “However, those are potential thoughts to participants. Maybe not the new dwellers. We should tread carefully,” Theon frowned a little bit then, “I hope the church grim is alright.”
Beyond a slight wince over the sensitive spot where she was surely bruised on the noggin, Araminta was not seriously injured. Truthfully, the gentle care was welcomed as an opportunity for her pounding heart to regain some sense of calm. To – for the tiniest of moments – feel safe in his shadow. Theon had absolutely no idea how much stronger she felt because he was there, simply for his presence alone. To not feel alone doing such an impossible task.
His simple No a second time bringing her to a soft smile. There was something oddly adorable about it. What a silly thing to be smitten over!
On his mention of the spirit dog, her eyes went upwards back the general way they fell from. A twist of her mouth as she gave it some thought. Could demons hurt graveyard spirits? Araminta hadn’t known what a church grim even was before Theon told her, so she had no knowledge of experience to draw from. However, she was pretty confident that a protective being meant to guard over spirits was likely meant to protect them from demons as well as wicked sorcerers.
“I think… I think Grim might be okay. He will find us or return to his cemetery.”
Araminta would not accept any other answer. Her heart would not take it! Should she discover otherwise, she might just take a lesson from demon spiders and become the next terror in this haunted castle.
For now Theon was right, they needed to move carefully down here in this strange space. Now that the occupants of the castle knew they were there, they’d surely be looking. Their time for searching was running out faster than she’d expected.
The princess glanced up and down the cavern taking in a deep breath and holding it for a minute. Listening to the sounds and… that way. While it reeked of mildew and decay down here, it wasn’t stagnant air. That meant it opened up elsewhere in one form or another. Araminta wasn’t certain if it were a breeze or just a chill from the water she’d landed in, but headed in the direction she’d felt it was the best way to go. Holding up a finger to gesture the way she wanted to go.
He knew a lot about undead simply out of learning and well, maybe a bit from curiosity at one point. But the idea that the church grim that had sought and agreed to help them may have been potentially harmed by a demon, sat like a fat stone in his stomach. Rolling around in it uncomfortably, left to simply hum to absently needing to agree with Araminta’s scope of it.
There was little they could do if the ghost hound had been harmed now. They were a little too far away to do anything and honestly, even if they weren’t? Well… what could they do against a demon. And cultists.
As much as his thoughts wanted to linger on this, it was not the best time. Looking forward and holding his own little flame aloft to hopefully get some better light going, she gave a point. Indicating the way they were going to walk. “Are we still looking for the item?” he asked, wanting to be sure what her scope of the plan was at this point. And whether or not they were going to have to deal with other unwanted guests ready to try and read their entrails for fun.
There was one thing Araminta was especially good at, and that was having hope and confidence that if she just kept moving forward, things would find a way to work out. That didn’t mean she shouldn’t put her own work and effort into it – one could not just sit around and wait for things to change. Simply that she would not be discouraged even when things were dire. As Araminta had already suffered through the worst things imaginable and still survived. This situation was difficult but it had not yet reached a point where she couldn’t see a path forward.
Taking a brief moment to grasp and squeeze his hand. Aware too that while Theon was used to danger, he’d never had a real future to think about. It was a simple thing to give him that gentle smile and remind him that darkness did not last forever.
“Our goal has not changed,” she affirmed with a soft nod. “I wasn’t prepared for a demon and the occult, though. I think we will have to try and avoid them as best we can.”
In the meantime, she held out her lantern so he could light the new candle flame as to not be the source of light himself. There was no telling if other sorts of spirits and undead were hidden down here in these strange underground caverns, so it might still have it’s protective uses as well.
“I do not know how one could be prepared for a demon… demons or cultists entirely.” Theon was one to admit the short comings in such things. After all, to be prepared in any manner for such things meant one likely had history with them. From his limited understanding, such things weren’t typical library material. At least not in the public eye that anyone could get. It took a lot of shady business to find the necessary items. And that was by no means a promise of success by any means.
But the one thing they had to do was look to avoid them as much as possible. The cultists were likely mortals at least. Just if they were anything akin to the mad Gusteau or even the Imperial Queen, then they might have abilities that did not make them easy pickings. So it wasn’t a wise choice to assume them defenseless.
It sat rough on his thoughts.
Begging for an immediate resolution. One that did not come and one that buried into his skull with a private sense of irritating annoyance that his uses were not being of well – use.
As she brought the candle out to take flame, he offered easily. Letting it get a good burn till he was able to snuff out his own and look amongst the stony cavern they were now in. Offering a look upwards in case there were more holes that they may need to be wary of. Something else coming out of them. Enough so that he with the hand not occupied by flame or her own, was checking the hilt. Assuring it was still there. Motioning forward that they may as well start their walking before they were caught between a literal rock and a hard place.
Araminta kept his hand in hers, giving him an encouraging squeeze even as she started walking and set her green-eyed attention on the cave walls around them. With no stalactites or stalagmites in view, and some of the smoother state of the stone with it’s almost sandy ground, the water down here hadn’t come from drip-draining from above, but rather more likely an old underground stream. Suspecting that when it rained, the water might rise up and flow. Only with the small stagnant pools, Araminta doubted that it’d rained in a very, very long time. A part of the magic curse on the land, perhaps?
For the moment, though, Araminta felt it was far more important to bolster moral. When she glanced upwards at Theon, it wasn’t his usual observant thoughtful features. Quietly subtle as they always were. He had that crinkle to his eyebrows and a slight clench to his jaw. Coupled with his prior comment that he wasn’t sure how someone could be prepared for demons and cultists, she had a feeling that his was doubting his own abilities. Without having a vicious tyrant giving clear orders – destroy this, kill that – he seemed to not realize he was incredibly skilled. Actually genuinely talented and clever in his own right. He had already proven it to her time and time again. Now somehow it had to be proven to himself!
“Light magic is strong against demons, yes?” she suggested. “It worked against a dark fae and on my wound, even if it was not enough by magic alone. And demons are not indestructible, even if they are strong. If I were her alone, I am not sure what I could do besides hiding in every nook and cranny I find. With you, there are so many things we can do with light and fire and sword and a speedy horse.”
He was going to have to become rather impressed with Araminta’s ability to apparently read him in ways that he long since believed he had managed to complete and utter indifference. Or wonder how she could peer into his mind at all for when she spoke up about light magic being particularly effective against demons, attention was dropped to her once more. Lending focus to hear to what she was verbally thinking outloud till there was more to this than mere wonder.
Where she seemed to be vocally expressing that had they still been on the means of where Araminta was only to do the trials, she might have only been hiding. Something about that he doubted.
She couldn’t possibly say such things with such a straight face when he watched her do so much already. Perhaps she might not wish to go against that of the demon due to her history with them. However, he’d not once even implore let alone think that Araminta would hide from anything. Thus far, she had proven to be quite straight forward in most of her items. While she stated she could be fearful, her hiding didn’t seem to be an synonym to it.
“Perhaps.” Cool silver eyes were now doing that whole studying thing. Taking in what was being said paired with what was being shown, “But limitations still exist.” He offered her at first, “It is not necessary to boon at my self confidence, Araminta.”
There was that wrinkle in her nose at such a reply, unable to hide her own refusal to believe such a thing wasn’t necessary. Even for those full of all the confidence in the world, sometimes one needed to be reminded of what they were capable of. Araminta had been blessed to grow up with support all of her life and had still found herself in a hopeless place before she’d met Theon. So it was absolutely vital that he, who had never been given the encouragement, was told repeatedly that he was more than a ghost.
“Then I will not boon your self confidence,” she told him boldly. “You say I am a tactician, so I am being… tactical!”
Araminta had no idea how this was going to be tactical, aside from the fact it certainly helped herself not spin in circles with what ifs and could bes when she was fussing about Theon. Squeezing his hand again, to lift and point out her finger in that way she often did when she was doing to start a full on ramble, but wasn’t willing to let go of him for her usual gesticulating.
“We are on a mission together and it’s important to be aware of our talents – both our talents. I’ve had good luck with creatures, Theon, but not so much with… bad people.”
She decided to not mention the demon portion simply for her own sake.
“I could not even escape scoundrels, let alone stronger others. You have taken care of me in those moments. And I…” she paused, glancing around at their current situation, walking down this long underground tunnel towards goodness only knew what. Somehow finding humor in the sheer insanity of it, enough to brightly smile. “And I discover interesting new ways to exhaust everyone.”
How the hell was he supposed to really conflict her when she was truly just trying to be simply herself. He knew she had a behaviour that liked to try and remedy everything into a reasonable sort of soothing. It was endearing but he did worry that she put too much pressure on herself to make it all work. In this case, she was attempting to temper whatever bleak thought she had in the gentlest ways.
Guessing this might be one of those things that others may have gingerly swooned over and he could only feel his heart absently beating somewhere not nearly as close by as it ought to be. Just grateful that it wasn’t accompanied by a tight piercing squeeze either.
She was getting ready to discuss at him her thoughts and her reasons for what she suggested was not attempting to elevate his mood but rather her just being a tactical insight.
Just that he knew it was the former. Listening when she pointed out for the umpteenth time about them. The unison work they did and trying to point out she was hardly perfect.
“Ara,” he spoke gingerly in hopes to stave off her need to better everything because it was truly alright. While he could be dour about himself and frustrated that he was lacking in such things, it wasn’t a terrible thing. It was just a learning aspect that needed him to feel and understand. He slowed so their hands would act as a tether. To insist she stop a moment and follow back that of arm so when she was brightly smiling and suggesting she was just finding new ways to exhaust others, he could have smiled at her.
“It’s okay.” He meant it, “I am frustrated but it will not last. It is alright to allow me to have these moments, but if it is a lot. I will speak on it. To you.” Hoping she understood, “I appreciate your candour to try and soften its edges but… I know when and where to speak when it is too much.” He offered her, “In the end, it does not mean I will not still wish I could do more. This is a first after all. Caring and wanting only the best even in the worst situations.” Theon considered a moment, “Is that alright?”
“…I am not letting you feel your feelings again,” she lamented, at least this time catching it immediately even if it did cause that bright red flush to her features. Araminta knew she was a fixer, a soother, one who needed to make sure everything and everyone was right and well. That was a strong habit even in the best of days, yet with Theon it was all the worst because he’d had so little care in his life, she’d just wanted to take away even his smallest of frustrations! Of course, how was that supposed to help him if she pushed him into forced sunshine instead!
Araminta took in a breath and was about to blurt out another quick I’m sorry, only to pause in the moment with a twist of her mouth. A sorry was not what he wanted or needed. Truth, on the other hand was always the right choice, even when it felt difficult to say.
“I want to take care of you, and I… am afraid I brought us somewhere we won’t walk away from,” she admitted with a soft frown. “I’m not afraid of dying, but I am so scared I will make a fatal mistake for one or both of us. A lich was a frightening prospect on it’s own, now there is a whole demon and a dozen cultists. I don’t know what I’m doing. You put your trust in someone delusional and foolish.”
It was a conflict to hear her both noticing that she might have wanted only to abate those sort of negative emotions that most –from his understanding- people felt, and how her cheeks gently begun to burn. One providing a bit of misery and the other a bit of softness. Disliking that she might even feel as though she was being too much when there was not a single thought in his own head that shared that belief.
He’d honestly expected her to utter a nonsensical apology again but instead she just pointed out a soft want that involved assuring his care was provided. While she stated she wasn’t pleased with where they had ended up. Hardly something he would have blamed her for, considering the trials were notoriously difficult. Amping up each time into something more that was harder to pre-determine a plan of action for.
It wouldn’t have mattered if it was this castle or another location, it was likely all of them were rife with something highly unexpected.
But to hear her state that his trust –a hard thing to earn let alone for him to give to anyone- had been offered to someone calling them unfitting descriptions. It was enough to spur a sort of mental distaste.
And apparently enough to spark action. Like a low burning flame, it licked at the kindle and flared somewhat. Nothing wild. Nothing huge! Just enough to dip and peck a chaste kiss to that mouth that was blithering nonsense! Determining that it was likely unexpected and would do well to cease her potential tirade from growing in emotional power. “I put my trust in the right place.” He stated. Clearly at that.
Offering a gentle squeeze instead, then looked forward. “Shall we keep moving forward?”
The bewildered way she blinked up at him, with a renewed flush of pink to her features now for an entirely different reason spoke volumes on just how effective a simple kiss and statement could be. How frustrating too, as Araminta could not think of a single thing to counter with! Theon always spoke with sincerity, and if he claimed to trust her, then she had to believe him. He trusted her even though they were down under an evil castle full of his dead ancestors, demons, and all manner of things that were probably going to kill them.
This ridiculous man had no idea how purely special that actually was. A gift of confidence that Araminta was not sure she actually deserved, but intended to treasure it with every fiber of her beating heart.
Finally giving simply reply of her own in the form of a quick affirming nod, turning to resume walking again, though now with a bolstered sense of fortitude to explore their current situation even further to see what might come about. Even seeming to stand a little taller while never relinquishing that hold of his hand to lead them along.
Walking along in this old ancient waterway felt similar to the mining tunnels of the fifth trial, although thankfully did not come with that closed in trapped feeling that had Araminta unable to breathe. The cavern was open and big enough that with their tiny bloom of light, it made her feel like they were the tiniest little specks. No bigger than the cave beetles she could see scurrying when the light touched their backs, as they had such an unusual rainbow hue.
Eventually the landscape around them no longer seemed to be nothing but rock walls and stones, showing signs of former life and mortal inhabitants by means of old crates and barrels. Sacks that used to be full of grain or some other perishable items. Wooden racks of shelves for storage for food or weapons, or supplies. Sometimes a chair or tables. Everything was so haphazard and in a means of chaos that it was clear none of it had been touched or used in decades. At least not by anyone with hands! Araminta released Theon’s hand to curiously go peeking about, but didn’t find anything of curious not.
…at least not until the place opened to a strange circular cavern, where it was no longer naturally carved stone from eons of running water, but carefully laid stone walls. As if the place had at one time been a giant water well. More curiously, there was a winding staircase of stone that’d crumbled and broken over time, that had been reinforced and replaced with timber scaffolding upwards towards a strange looking balcony up above. None of the stonework looking even remotely like the black stone of the Dun Glomoth castle, seeming to be quite a bit older than even it’s ancient foundation.
In fact, when Araminta brought her shining lantern closer to the walls she found the flair of architecture so intriguingly familiar that she gave an audible oh! when she realized they’d seen similar in that old city of spiders! Could there be an entire castle under a castle?!
At this point one really shouldn’t be surprised to what they could or would or may find at all. Seeing as their track record throughout this time together had been, functionally… more surprising than not. Able to list off various interactions or discoveries of things that were hardly what one would have properly considered upon their first bit of investigation.
Now finding this curious place that was beneath that of the old castle, he found himself absently looking up the staircase that had been obviously changed. And glaringly different in ways that he was certain no amount of simply staring would have been enough to answer the fact of what or why.
With Araminta peeking around, it was only when she made a noise that drew his attention properly towards her. Feet completing the task of stepping over so he might engage to what had caused her audible intrigue to sound like a gentle bell.
Light cast upon wall and well, he hadn’t paid that close attention to such detail as she had –far more concerned about said spiders at the time- so it was, “What is it?” natural for him to query.
“It’s just like the underground city!” she chirped chock full of excitement, having temporarily forgotten the greater scope of dangers in the wake of this new discovery. Already shifting with a beckoning finger to scurry over closer to another of the stone walls, climbing herself up a few of the damaged old crates so she could hold her lantern up high enough to directly point at some of the masonry that piqued her interest.
Though worn and crumbling with time, color faded and carvings buried under moss and calcified stone, the gargoylesque figure was distinctly ancient elven in style. From a time where they were still close enough to their fae ancestors that it still influenced the very art and style of the cities they built. Something about it too seemed twisted and dark – so very different from the modern civilizations of elves that at least Araminta was familiar with.
“It’s not uncommon for towns and cities to grow and evolve from old ones… but imagine not knowing there was an entire ancient ruin beneath your feet! Someone must have discovered it and some point, clearly– I wonder what they found!”
Could there be another of the grand fae tree somewhere in the underground ruins? An ancient library of books on magic and mayhem that helped spur on the War of Mages? If anything, Araminta knew that it would be a tempting and alluring source for anyone that sought knowledge from history, and what a perfect hiding place for any number of powerful liches, she could bet.
That familiar expression had returned to her features again, seen easily as she scrambled back down from her precarious perch. The look that warned of clever curiosity and all kinds of trouble, for the mountain princess’ wheels were turning as she led them towards the rickety scaffolding that’d take them upwards. Seeming to be on a hunt of her own like an old sniffing hound.
“Ara,” Concern rippled in mere seconds even after she announced her grand excitement of how this place apparently shared relevance or similarities to that of the underground city in that of the mine. It was more her need to scramble up to rickety looking crates to get a better look at things that disturbed a cautionary want to assure she wasn’t just wildly becoming a exotic mountaineer. Frowning softly with the way she was so easily getting up there and seemingly investigating the means of things.
Although he wasn’t too pulsed or even interested in what organized familiarities the two trial places had, she spoke. Mentioning how places evolved from older places. And it was the mention of how there was a place of ruins beneath one’s feet. His gaze shifting to look upwards and, “I would not believe it to be unknown.” Theon muttered just loud enough as he had more than a feeling that the Imperial Queen may have found this place.
And who could have said what she found.
She did have a fascination with the fae and the fae had a strong loathing of her. So who was to say what sort of ill omens had been curated here. At this point and with his steadfast knowledge of that of his birth giver could be like, he was venturing on the side of cautious pessimism. No sooner finding her comely features arranging themselves into thrilled discovery and challenging perception. As she was making haste downwards as if to find something new. Leaving him to well, “Do you think the Lich’s item is present here?” Deciding to question in such a way to hope her need for exploration wasn’t suddenly so stuck on this new discovery over what they were here for.
“We are certain to find a phylactery now,” Araminta confirmed with full confidence. Which… was quite a frightening thing to be confident about, but she’d chosen the location well just based on the history of Castle Dun Glomoth. Now knowing there was even more mysteries hiding under it, there were now dozens if not hundreds of new possibilities for them to discover here.
…some possibilities even being a worst case scenario of demon portals and whatnot, but Araminta did not want to think about that nor did she think it wise to worry Theon about things they currently could do nothing about. For Theon’s sake she needed to stay focus on their task at hand, not to get herself side-tracked by new things to be furious over.
Or excited over, as the case may be. Araminta already leading the way up the first level of the wooden steps, not as careful as she should’ve been for a construction that was so old. Learning that lesson quick when one of the boards gave a warning crack when she set weight upon it. Thankfully having quick enough reflexes to pull back and not set her full weight down, else she might’ve been flailing sideways and taking a tumble!
“Hm! Be careful on these stairs, Theon…” she turned to warn him, seeming more concerned about him and his giant stature and heavy armor than her own near calamity.
She stated before that he made apparently subtle motions in his face that could be expressive. Her declaring that the item was likely to be found now certainly earned one of those soft twists. Giving the woman that had managed to slip in rather close to absent heart, a look that wasn’t nearly as convinced by her enthusiasm. If anything, he was growing to be suspicious about the likelihood of its discovery.
Granted, it was also highly likely that no other trial goer had found this area. If they had, they were part of the bones that told no tales.
His thoughts were less than thrilled about any of this. Blaming it somewhere on the unwanted realization that this place was linked to familial history that he didn’t care to know about! Merely wishing somewhere deep inside that he didn’t have to even come to vague understanding that the Imperial Queen had been a child or a teenager in any capacity. Nor that she had family at all that were evidently long dead. And believing that she may as well have been a catalyst for the said mage war that started here. Sure a lot of this linked around to her.
At this point, he suspected that the liches that could be present here were priests that served under the said Imperial Queen family and she had thrown them into becoming the undead necrolords.
Still, in all of this, if Araminta was that convinced then who was he to say otherwise. It wasn’t like he had any better idea. So even if she was likely to perform feats that were akin to a flying squirrel by setting pace to climb that of the questionable steps, he was silent about it.
Only giving her a short stare when a board declared promptly that it was highly displeased about being stepped on. Making her lithe body respond to leaping off and turning back to warn him about where not to step. Something he figured out promptly as he gave the said offending object a lengthy consideration.
At least with him being taller, it meant his stride was longer. Allowing him to step over the stair that would have been happy enough to topple either of them over; so he could follow after the ever curious ray of sunshine up further.
Hoping that they weren’t about to find a ritual chamber up there.
Much to Araminta’s surprise, the stairs went up higher and further than it looked from the ground below. Without a railing to protect them from a trip or stumble, the princess kept her body closer to the stone wall so she wouldn’t give Theon a heart attack by tumbling down to a bone breaking death. Likewise, she paid a lot more attention to where she was stepping too. Now testing wooden boards with some pressure before putting her full weight on them, skipping those that felt sketchy altogether. This pacing was frustratingly and worrying slow, it being in the back of her mind that the longer it took the easier it might be for them to be caught up with by cultists or that massive demon. Only none made themselves known, not even when they’d reached the end of the winding staircase and was able to step onto the solid balcony of this strange underground castle.
What should have been as dark as night as it was below in the cavern, turned out to be quite the opposite once they roamed from the open balcony space to enter a large open chamber of pillars and beautiful statues. Sconces with glowing crystals were mounted into pillars and walls. Tall candelabra style torches and low braziers too had the same effect. All beaming with a warm orange light that felt far more inviting than the dark castle above.
Though there was no longer living greenery, the signs of it was everywhere by the dead vines and bush branches tucked away in little garden beds that surrounded the marble statues. Elven for certain in ear and bodies, though there were plenty of fae creatures amongst the stonework. Jackalopes and winged pixies. A form that looked much like the dark fae they’d encountered and others with twisted gnarly features that appeared more like creatures made of trees.
Araminta could’ve spent hours in such a place, examining all of the details in every piece of stone carved art. A marvel that had been lost to time!
Psssst!
She stopped dead in her tracks there in the middle of the place at the soft sound.
Psssssssst. Hey girl!
Araminta cast a startled look over her shoulder towards Theon just to be sure she was not the only one to hear it.
No! Not that way, look over here! I’m down here!
‘Down here’ was apparently nearby in one of the dead garden beds, tucked right up under the statue of an elven knight. A single skull yellowed with time, left behind and forgotten by who knew what. The empty black holes where eyes should’ve been suddenly coming to light with a soft glow of blue. And when it opened it’s mouth Araminta let out such a startled yelp that it too yelped in response!
AAaaygh! Alright, alright! I’m not out to get ya, just calm down then, girl! Don’t start flinging spells now, put them away, boy!
Truthfully he was more than grateful to get off the staircase, due to its multitude of hazards that could have been had in a second. Once solid ground was beneath that of feet and eye cast backwards as though trying to determine in which way they might avoid returning the way they had come; vision turned.
Looking around the area that was glimmering in light that should have long since died if there was nothing magical here. Which something in his thoughts said was quite the opposite. Of course the place was evidently left to rot and decay. With things that he might have worried were just temporary statues of creatures that were likely faeish in some capacity. Although he took a wider berth about the one that was the Baphomet they had encountered what felt like ages ago.
Wondering truly how the hell this place was still standing as well as it had, at least till something truly foreign was… whispering.
Finding Araminta’s green gaze on him and his in reply. Needing not to vocalize the fact that oh he heard it too. Moving hand to prepare itself upon hilt in case there was a need to slice and dice, he wasn’t too sure that following a voice was their best choice. They were in a place that was reeking of magic, demons and cultists too. Of a heritage that was long unmentioned to his own ears with a ringing belief that this was where the Imperial Queen had been spawned.
Yes, following anything seemed like a truly terrible idea.
The sword however was promptly out when Araminta was being spooked and in turn, scaring back the… skull?
Brows furrowed and free hand that wasn’t manipulating the sword to be an steely threat, reached over to indicate her presence was to stay so close that he would have to be mindful not to trip over her. Where the skull was speaking and apparently suggesting it was of no threat.
He might have once upon a time believed that but the way things were going lately, he wasn’t about to just shrug and accept. Presenting a visual cold front, he didn’t find a reason to lower the weapon either. Thankfully he wasn’t about to throw spells. Likely because he knew they may need them later. A skull could be broken unless this was a lich skull and then well… he wasn’t sure.
Frowning instead to express his high disliking of this current situation.
With Theon’s beckoning hand, Araminta did as told, not hesitating at all to scoot herself a step behind Theon, though still leaning to give this new peculiar thing a wide-eyed stare of interest.
Yes. Yes! Witness me! My glory! Pah. spat the skull, seeming to be self aware that this was a ridiculous scenario for them to stumble upon. Armor clad and not a drip of black robes. So you’re not a virgin sacrifice then, girl? Bahaha! Good.
“Pardon me?” exclaimed Araminta with confusion and more than a little heat in her cheeks. Still all sorts of curious about this strange clattering skull that was opening and closing it’s chattery teeth without a lick of muscle to help it do so. “What… are you doing there in the garden?”
Sunning myself. What do you think I’m doin’! Some idjit dropped me here and was too dead to get back up again! Look at him. He’s over there.
Without limbs to point with, there was a very awkward waggle of the blue orbs. Rolling this way and that way trying to aim them in the right direction, until finally Araminta got just curious enough to cast Theon a quick questioning look before she took a few tentative steps away to give a look.
Whomever ‘he’ was, he was certainly as dead as claimed. Another soft squeak escaped the princess, as this poor mummified, dried up body was quite the wretched sight. With no bugs and weather to help with decay, this person had sat down to perish. Simply drying and shriveling up like old leather and salted jerky. Still wearing armor that looked familiar enough to the Imperial Kingdoms, with an abandoned sack at his side.
And you two are next! AHAHAHAHAaaaa- Ah, sorry, that was a jest. Now pick me up and let’s get out of here before those robed nitwits come chanting through here again reeking of demon piss.
He’d seen a few wild things but this… was starting to take the cake. Suddenly grateful that he had no real flavour palate of the very morsel to be insulted that it was sweet and this was clearly not. Giving this clattering bone laid thing a look that may have been considering the next action. Whether to be turning around and marching out of here or striking it to see if it would crack and turn to proper dust.
Although if this was a Lich, it would do no good to go flailing around a sword. Veteran fighter or not.
Not too sure what the hell a virgin sacrifice had any business here at all, just it seemed this skull was certainly a bit of a callous sarcastic being that when Araminta asked just what it was doing here, it gave a rather obtuse reply.
With gaze making its best to show what dead soul had dropped him, he replied to Araminta’s look with one that was properly perturbed. Keeping tongue sealed inside that of jaw to avoid any imbecilic questions on his part. Though favouring that comfort of silence because it allowed him to think and observe without having to answer for those very actions. Simply that her gentle squeak was enough to declare that the one who died was well… dead.
For sword to be brandished and fist to tighten at the whole joking threat. Hoping it was clear enough that if it wanted to be ill behaved, he would see it flung and perhaps testing if he could roast a skull at all.
His gaze shifted and he made a gentle motion to Araminta to indicate if she wanted too, he would follow her lead. If she wanted to do as this skull was demanding, then so be it. But it may be better if she carried it in a sack or something, pointing to said one that was at the dead man’s side. Content to stay safely in his own skull!
He protests, he snarls! He speaks with no words. Well, get to it, girl! Pick me up, let’s go!
“I am not in the habit of picking up random talking skulls, sir, especially ones next to less talkative dead,” chimed Araminta thoughtfully. For the moment the thing appeared harmless, with it’s inability to do anything more than talk. She gave Theon a small shrug of a single shoulder and a soft expression that she was still assessing what exactly this skull was all about, but did move towards the abandoned sack to examine it’s contents.
Oh yeah? You just wander around old ruins for fun? I didn’t kill him, ya idjit, I needed his legs!
Needed his legs? Curious! Though she gave the insult a fleeting raised brow glance, Araminta’s focus was put back to snooping through the dead husk’s belongings. Food that was so old it had become a petrified rock inside it’s napkin. Camping supplies. A map of the Imperial Kingdoms, though it looked quite different than the one Araminta had. Then with another surprised sound, she found the most interesting bits of all. Wrapped up in leather there was a medium sized box and within it were the very famed items of their quest. Hair of a bog witch, a harpy’s feather, dried luminous ghost mushrooms, a foul mummified fish, and a very pitiful acorn. Five completed trials.
Oh dear.
“If you did not kill him, what did?” she deemed to ask, because that was going to be the most important question for her and Theon! “And why was he carrying you around?”
Why else? If you want to find the Staff of Whateverthefuck, the Eyeball of Bitcherface, or whatever quest nonsense that backstabbing cow wants these days, you need me as the guide so you don’t end up like Sir Bacon over there.
That was a statement worthy of taking note of, giving Araminta that wide-eyed look of pondering while she got back up to bring her box of found treasures over to Theon and allow him the glance inside.
Well now it was getting into territory that was all too familiar. Granted he wasn’t the sort that simply glared at others, and wasn’t about to start now with the skull’s antics of talking at him in such potentially mocking way; he awaited Araminta’s assessment. In which was pointing out to the skull that she didn’t have a habit of collecting skulls of any sort. Which was a fair thing to not do. Although there was plenty around if she developed the odd collection.
However, he wasn’t that big of a fan when this one started to call Araminta an idjit. That got more of a response out of him. Making a slight motion of hand that just might be considering a fiery spell. It could be rude to him all it liked, but Araminta warranted no such thing.
Just because she was ignoring such commentary, didn’t mean he would. Knife bright rings being observant and holding till Araminta seemed to find the satchel of potential concern. Asking what had killed the man in which prompted the skull to talk about the Imperial Queen. Something about a staff or an eyeball. Apparently this fetching of items tended to vary and the skull itself was somehow linked to it. Which as she offered him the pack to look into, his mind promptly followed the same path as her own.
Then to the man. Considering his garb a little further, “The attire is far older than the current one that the Imperial Queen holds upon her vassels.” He didn’t really need to point it out but the contents were just enough to make him wonder if the guard was old and the pack was new or the man had taken old attire from somewhere else.
Just that he then looked at the skull this time. Theon was thoughtful. “Is there a reason you would want to act as a guide when the Imperial Queen is that of unfavourable?” He asked gingerly but put the sword away to indicate to Araminta, that he would pick up the skinless relic if necessary.
Princess Heirra, maiden faire of moonlight eyes and vampire smiles. A dream, a nightmare, a lying bitch that makes promises she does not keep. the skull spat. The damn thing of bone couldn’t make a singular expression, yet somehow through those glowing blue orbs alone managed to display a complete sense of annoyance and disgust.
“You knew Princess Heirra!” marveled Araminta, unable to keep such an exclamation to herself in the light of such a discovery. “Who were you?”
Her valiant lover! No…ya daft girl, I am HIM!
Again with the waggling of his eyes in flips and gestures, the only him he could gesture to was upwards at the statue the skull layed to rest under. The elven knight with his long pointed ears and sharp chin. Araminta had a very hard time placing this sarcastic voice to such a handsome, pretty face.
“You do not sound like-“
You try living under your own balls for centuries and see how elegant you turn out! huffed the skull, rattling his own teeth with a chomp. Look what she did to me. I am incomplete. I am all head and no heart. Lay me back to rest and I will give you whatever you want, girl. Anything!
This hardly answered much of anything and truly only gave even more questions! There was on specifically though, he had yet to answer. Prompting Araminta to place her hands on her hips with a frown. This was about to be a serious negotiation.
“You didn’t answer on what killed him, so you won’t be going anywhere until you’re more forthcoming.”
The skull rattled, almost even shook with what could’ve been frustration? Annoyance? Anger? Either way, it clearly couldn’t do much of anything.
That old dead mage and his black clad idjits, who else? I warned him it was a bad idea. Take anything out of here you want, but don’t be messing with that undead bastard. Look at me! Necromancy is not a joke! Not a fun one, anyway!
It was likely a good thing he held no loyalty to the woman that had decidedly given him life only for a twisted lark. To hear this skull chatter about a woman that had been once a princess and described having that of a bloodletting smile akin to monsters of the night. Paired with being claimed as lying due to false promises, he merely accepted these things as fact. Because they likely were.
Just something told him clearly not to even vaguely let it slip that he was one of her many progeny. And the only one that had lived. Although he had little to worry about when Araminta seemed to be so enthralled. Announcing the former title and asking the very remains just whom they were.
Which posed the skull to be sardonically vocal. Making a show of eyes darting around in its head to the statue that rested above. Angled and cut in elegant lines. A flow of artistry and apparently the man had been elf. This only added to the thought he held privately that the Imperial Queen had some sort of interest in the fae realm, or had at the time.
He might have thought about it longer if it weren’t for the being pointing out that he was of no heart. Apparently all it took was a mention and he personally was bothered about it. Grateful all the more that the mountain princess decided she was not about to fall into the words of promise without her own questions being answered. Adopting a look that might be better suited for a mother chiding a particularly stupid child.
Seemingly making this former elf rather annoyed. Declaring in what may have been pure exasperation about a dead mage – a lich likely- and some followers that were not of good value. Where the skull pointed out how dangerous necromancy was. “The Imperial Queen has sent that of the young lady to fetch that of a lich’s phylactery.” Theon stated gingerly as he decided then he would be the one to pick up the skull. Careful about the action and apologizing in some regard about being potentially unfavourable about how one picked such a thing up. Eventually holding the head in palms outwards and glanced to the statue once more.
Then to Araminta, as if silently asking her if this was worth continuing.
And you came HERE? The worst of the worst and the stupidest of places to test your luck! wailed the skull. Chiding them both without mercy until he was plucked up off the ground. If a skull could vibrate and hum with delighted pleasure, he surely did. Clacking his teeth and changing his tune real quick.
Alright, okay. Your funeral, then girl. Return me to my body and you may have your phylactery. I won’t be helping you leave with it! Once that undead bastard catches wind that it’s gone, you’re dead!
Araminta wasn’t sure she liked the implications of that, glancing over at the poor dead soul who came here before and seemingly met a terrible end. There certainly was no phylactery on him, else she would’ve found it in his bag with the other procured quest items. He’d fallen before even having a chance to acquire it.
“…you’ll help us get to the phylactery first,” she instructed, squinting her eyes at the thing while Theon held it aloft. “We can’t deviate to put you back and risk being caught before we have it.”
What what! Now you listen, girl, I make the-
“You can put him back, Theo-“
Wait, wait, wait, alright now. It’s a deal, it’s a deal. Smart one, huh? Got better chances than Sir Bacon over there. He didn’t have two wits to form a thought. We walk down thataway, past the stag with the rose horns.
The princess beamed a smile that might’ve looked smug on anyone else. Holding her lantern up and her other hand open in a silent question of trade to Theon. Guessing it might be awkward for him to hold a chattering skull while it blathered away half-useful nonsense.
Admittedly, he also was not a fan of the selection more than ever. But that was due to the nature of discovery that was unwanted and found out. However that was simply the way things worked and he did not blame Araminta at all. She never would have known and she tried to pick the place with the best chances. So it only seemed fair. However for someone who was rather without a body and awaken in his undeadness, he was sure flippant about calling them out. Not sure he ought to be speaking in such a way but his attitude certainly shifted when he was picked up.
Offering that they take him to the missing link of his body and in turn they could have the phylactery. Which was clear that it was more of a boon for the elven dead than them. Thankfully Araminta was not about to be swindled. Pointing out after a moment that he was going to help them first rather than them doing the bidding and risking their mortal lives to be new additions to the corpse that had tried previously.
It seemed the arrogant skull was about to push his luck. One word and body turned to replace the skull back to where he had been situated before. About to spend who knows how much longer under his statue.
Thankfully, the elven skull appeared to be wise to know it wasn’t about to pull the wool over Araminta’s eyes. In turn, was seemingly giving out well deserved respect for the young woman. Something that was fully deserving. And she looked pleased upon receiving while proving she was of wit and cunning. Allowing him to look the way that was expressed to be the start of this new lead, just that he noticed Araminta motioning that she would take the skull.
Taking a moment of contemplation, he shook his head. “I will follow.” Theon stated not about to hinder her hands with the talking dead. Seemingly somewhat bothered that she would even do so though he had thought she would have originally. Now, he was backtracking and not wanting her to do so. Not to mention, if something happened, she was far more agile than him. He could toss her the skull and insist her to leave as the promise of returning the fellow to his body had been made.
The gentle look she gave him was somewhere between properly amused and softly sweet, knowing he was trying to spare her whatever trouble he thought that skull would be. A silly thing but what a wonderfully endearing bit of fussing it was. Thus, Araminta did not insist, giving him a small nod of acceptance before turning to lead the way of following this strange living skull’s directions.
Can’t say this is the best of ideas, stealing from that undead specter of chaos, but what do I know! I was dead for centuries before that glowing fuck met his own end! The skull chattered away in the palm of Theon’s hand. Other than his jaw opening and closing, it seemed that was the full scope of his ability to move.
Araminta peered over her shoulder, very much with the look of someone who had some curious ideas. Even squinting as those wheels in her head turned and mulled over the tidbits of ancient history this long-dead elf was spilling in his rambles.
“To have a statue of your own, you must have been quite the notable figure,” she inquired. “…or well, when you had an actual body.”
I WAS notable! I, Ry’seth Ael Brydove, Master of Bows, Keeper of Tomes, Advisor to the High Council. The greatest lover this side of the continent and the smartest man alive. Mind you, no one realized that until after I was good and dead, the self righteous fucks. But who has the last laugh now, Lysanthir, you rose covered tit!
Lysanthir was apparently the stag with the rose thorn antlers they were coming to pass the long courtyard. He clacked his teeth at it, unable to do much else.
“Is that why you are… well, naught but a skull now?” Araminta asked. “Someone finally recognized your brilliance?”
If a skull could preen, he certainly did. Those glowing orb eyes taking on a warmer hue before suddenly going a frustrated angry orange.
That schemer… that lying whore! I was happy dead, you know. Dead is a good place to be after you’ve lived an elven life! Then that cow appears, all red honeyed smiles and sultry promises. A second chance at life. To live once again, be young once again in a new form. This time with everyone listening to my wisdoms! A princess of lies.
There was silent agreement in the whole, couldn’t say this was the best of ideas. However, had the skull known the sort of luck and whole trials that happened thus far, he may just look at them with a sense of befuddled bewilderment. Because thus far, even he could not say that things had been well thought out or wise. Just currently this was the worst of the trials. Should they succeed, it would only grow in such ways. Becoming less and less safe in any measure of the word. Earning a muted glance towards the back of Araminta’s leading crown. Knowing and grateful that she was clever because truly, they were going to rely heavily on that quick thinking mind.
Even in the wildest of moments.
Adjusting the skull in his palm to keep him as level as possible, Theon silently looked about once more. Listening to the clattering bone in grasp while Araminta was fishing for details in such a way that it was likely attempting to sneakily goad information out of the very animated cleaved head. At least till the young princess stumbled upon a key word that promptly got the skull, now claimed as Ry’seth to proclaim proudly that he was apparently the smartest man that had been alive. And how people never appreciated him till he was buried.
It was probably a good thing Theon wasn’t known to be expressive because he may have leveled a look to Araminta that was speaking in ways that was highly sarcastic. Only growing somewhat till it appeared her selected phrasing was just enough that Ry’seth announced he had been bamboozled enough to agree to a deal that was not exactly a deal at all.
“Smarts appeared to have perished in your first life.” Theon muttered clear enough to point out that even any sort of promise of second life sounded highly fishy. And that Ry’seth being the smartest man alive had only been applicable to when he was alive.
If you had seen her, said the skull, somehow seeming to still adore and cherish the very wicked woman who had betrayed him. Beautiful. Stunning. Even for a round ear, the Princess was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid undead eyes upon. With a fire of ambition in those eyes that was purely irresistible. A man would burn the whole world down for a woman like that.
Araminta found such a description highly romantic… at least if it hadn’t been about Heirra, a woman who was truly the worst thing in this modern world! It did begin to paint a picture, though. Of a young princess full of beauty and charisma, someone charming enough that even now after being betrayed and hating the very woman, he still sounded wistful as if he missed that time together. Heirra had somehow found her way down here into this ancient buried castle to come across the remains of this elf… to do what, though?
“And she betrayed you,” reminded Araminta. “What a wretched thing to do, drawing you from your slumber only to abandon you as naught but a talking head! All of the trouble to wake you only to leave you? I can’t imagine what wrong!”
The skull of Ry-seth hummed and clattered on Theon’s palm with his anger again.
Vile lying temptress! Days! Weeks! Months! Sweet conversations and endless talks of everything and nothing! Of the old world, when my kind had just left the fae realms. When the round ears were nothing but wildlings and pests. Before the War of Sins shattered their own realm into seven hells. That wench drained me of my very knowledge and then left me looking at my own balls!
From the sounds of it, this ancient elf was even older and more ancient than Araminta had even thought! Drawing her to peer another wide-eyed glance over her shoulder at these new tidbits of information. Whatever he’d been blabbering on to the Imperial Queen, something in those long talks must’ve been important or useful to her. Araminta opened her mouth to ask, but the skull was suddenly speaking again.
Shush! Silence! Take a turn to the left down that hall and begin a climb up the stairs. Say not a word. Make not a sound unless you wish to die a fate more grizzly than Sir Bacon back there.
“I would prefer not to know.” Theon spoke up even as Ry’seth seemed to grow from irritation to obvious infatuation about a woman that was nothing more than cruelty wrapped up in some pretty packaging. Having certainly gotten more of an understanding that the person that had provided an egg for his creation, was just a merciless monster that apparently had been stunning enough to make both fae and elves behave like foolish souls. Although he couldn’t fault a male parent on his side seeing as he had no idea how that happened, worked or what not since the very person was long since turned into ingredients or something.
Which made him wonder if Ry’seth also had similar uses just in a verbal sense.
If there was one thing frightening about the Imperial Queen, she could be patient when she wanted to be. Especially if it got her something in particular she had been festering for.
There was a strong sense of appreciation that Araminta reminded the skull that the woman had betrayed the nattering bones. Less he get all figuratively dreamy eyed and start talking about the birth giver in such a way that it would make him want to pull his own skin off. Something that had not yet happened but he didn’t need to discover this new trauma and loathing for the very person, came with a desire to peel his flesh off bones.
Once more the elven head was chattering off about how the queen had betrayed him. Getting him to talk –which was apparently not difficult seeing as Ry’seth seemed like the sort that liked his own voice.
Smartest man, indeed.
Easily duped.
The glance across shoulder was enough to have him nod slightly but if there was more to be had, it was hushed. Pulling a need to be alert more so while his gaze went to the suggestion of where to go in the left motion. Looking around for anything obvious that was lurking, waiting for aimless wanderers to catch and he adjusted his hold once more on the skull. Guessing that there was likely those of the undead sort or cultist once more that would be very unhappy to see them traipsing around. Giving Araminta a light motion to pluck her way first and he would naturally bring up the rear.
This new hall was much like the old garden courtyard, only devoid of plant life and full of even more statues. Though these were not carved in the imagine of unique people – they were all standing soldiers of golden veined marble. Somehow still pristine even after the centuries of being forgotten. The magic that flowed through the hanging lamps still hadn’t dimmed, being a warm and cozy glow for a place so empty and eerie.
Araminta knew this was a serious warning for quiet as she stepped into the hall and the skull didn’t utter another peep. Even seeming to suck in an airless gasp when one of their footsteps whispered an echo off the massive stone archways. She paused near one of the marbled soldiers, leaning to examine the art. Glancing a quick verdant flicker to Theon and the skull who seemed to flash those glowing orbs in warning.
A furrowed frown before her brows rose – like the stone golems in the faerie glade! These were sleeping golems, surely!
Oh no. There were at least a near hundred of the figures lining both sides of this long corridor. Araminta took in a breath and kept her mouth good and shut! For music might’ve soothed the beasts in the forests, it would not likely work on something carved to appear as knights!
So with her breath held and her step more careful, more tip-toe soft than it had ever been, Araminta led the way of sneaking through the long hall towards the staircase that spiraled far ahead.
The attention to the statues was almost immediate, though not from the means of being outwardly curious but simply due to the fact that there were so many. And the detail of their craft being quizzically aesthetic. Pulling him to be silent in his own consideration even as the hall itself seemed to change a little bit from the previous one. Where silver vision rose to the artificer lamps still imbued with light to make them glow.
Where he had taken to balancing weight onto the pads of his feet as the tension in thighs were to avoid legs brushing together with the minimization of noise. Carefully rolling heel to toe slowly to keep the motion of step placid.
There was a pause however when it he found the jade rings glancing at him after she had paused to consider one of the statues. An unspoken motion that caused him to tilt focus upwards. Searching for what had triggered her response and wishing in turn that he had not been so quick to follow her muted thought. For vision scaled the nearest statue with an imposing dread. Looking out to the rose of slumbering stones with a hope that they were truly only carved and not given artificial life.
Pressing lips into a tight grim line but kept the work of stepping silently ever more present in his thoughts.
This place truly was no more than a baited trap of utter hell. With all sorts of terrors around all corners. Surely no one would have ever guessed it to be so heavily loaded!
He followed slowly. Gradually even as they eventually were approaching to that of staircase and wondered just what new potentially hostile ghoul or imbued beast of inanimate creation would await them next. Not to mention, how they were going to have to get back out of this place.
The corridor remained so devoid of sound that it was almost oppressive. Like an actual physical weight bearing down harder and harder with every step they took forwards. As if the room itself could somehow press upon them to force out a syllable from lungs. Holding her breath for far longer than was advisable, the moment Araminta coughed out a soft huff, just slightly jostling the lantern in her hand to give a creak on it’s hinge, a head on one of the marble figures swiveled in a jerk towards their direction.
Araminta froze. Wide-eyed, wild, and holding her breath all over again! At this rate she was going to faint before they made it to the stairs!
But with the lack of further sound or movement, nothing else came about. A single statue still staring at them, almost daring another sound to be uttered.
Then a soft click, click, clop echoed in the chamber.
Small and frail, a sable spotted baby deer stumbled and limped around the corner. No ethereal fae glow, no ghostly luminescence, no magical purple hue. It looked as real and alive as they were, somehow strangely more real than anything else down in this buried castle.
One did not have to be able to read minds to know what was to happened next. Simply by the way the mountain princess straightened and that rush of a whisper the poor thing under her breath was enough, even before she was taking the first steps towards it!
Ry’seth surprisingly still not uttering a single word, only vibrating as if he was quivering in his own skull!
There was nothing, absolutely nothing in this world that could’ve prepared him for Ara making a bit of a noise inducing one of the statues to zone in on them lightning quick. Sure that he didn’t have a heart in his chest but it was certainly beating a thousand miles per second. About to leap off or out of whatever container or space it was concealed in. Hoping and silently asking that the very thing stop posing its attention to them.
But that was hardly the thing that could have been the item to cause utter terror.
It was the mere chance that a seemingly fine and functional woodland creature had found itself way precisely at this moment, here. Where Araminta lost all sense and reasoning and only knew the cute thing was liable to be slaughtered because it could not grasp the need for silence and she, was a soft heart in such a way.
For a woman that could think fuzzy spiders were cute, of course a baby deer would hold a candle much higher. Making the moment turn from sheer endurance of silence to pure survival! The skull in hand liable to shake himself entirely out of the grasp with the strength and he was trying so hard then and there to be that very false knight that he was apparently suggested to be.
A foot was moved. Tense and strained and put into stepping himself before Araminta. Acting as a block hopefully. Carefully shaking his head and hoping that even her whisper hadn’t been heard. Knowing she meant well, she did and he would feel for her but right now, their life depended on staying alive! Not becoming one of the dead here to live in after death.
Araminta nearly ran right into Theon when he stepped so solidly in her path. Drawing her arms quickly around her lantern to stifle any clatter it might’ve made and at first giving the man a furrowed brow, frustrated frown before those faeish features of her softened and the tiniest bit of sense came creeping back in. Leaving her to peer outwards at that poor hobbling animal with a twist of her mouth and churn in her stomach.
Logically, somewhere deep in her mind, Araminta knew that there was no possible way a small baby deer could end up so deep underground in this ancient abandoned ruin. Only, it appeared so real and living. Stumbling and clocking three of it’s little hooves on the stone as it limped into the long hall. Clearly hurt, obviously struggling, giving the princess cause to wonder if it had not been dragged down there by one of those cultists as a meal or a sacrifice.
The poor thing tripped and bleated the most sorrowful of sounds. Araminta’s heart shattered.
“I could just-” she whispered next, already taking a side step around Theon. The immediate result being two more marble heads jerking in their direction. Oddly, not a single one having reacted to the bleating deer.
She had the sense enough then to shut her mouth and halt. This was a vicious sort of trap. A torment for certain! The way she had to squeeze her eyes shut and gave a staggered breath made it clear that she was trying to weigh her actions. Finally reaching to take a hold of the tail end of Theon’s cloak with a soft tug tug as if it were the reigns to a horse.
As long as she didn’t look, she would no be tempted. Though, it’s sad little noises were not as easily ignored!
The way she looked at him after almost entirely colliding with him was almost enough to cow him from the chosen resolve to be an obstacle. Feuding mentally with the flurry of buffered desire not to interfere or cause upset to the singular person that had tolerated him so extensively. Needing to grab that sensation that sought to step back and relent immediately to cease any potential chance of Araminta showing him her ire because he was impeding something that she wished to do. Even if said thing was about to pounce a series of far too many statues to leap upon them.
So even if his gut twisted and his chest tightened under the frustrated frown she gave, he remained. Internally rebuffing everything that was happening and knowing already that he was liable to start making plans on seeking her forgiveness for doing any of this.
Not allowing himself to glance across his shoulder towards that of the deer as it was unclear what sort of motivation this all was. For a moment due to the fact that when it tumbled and bleated, nothing of the stalwart guardians, reacted.
A glance to Ry’seth to see if there might be anything the animated skull could imply soundlessly, then to Ara as she whispered and the unfortunate twist of golden marble heads were pointed their way. Making his spine feel like ice in his back.
At the moment he couldn’t say if this was an elaborate trap that would pull on the strings of gentle souls such as Araminta, or if the statues just didn’t pay heed to anything besides humanoid’s, rather than animals. Not that it was the time to press and push for such answers.
He wasn’t sure how to exactly respond if the stone statues were to get up to attack. Knowing he would have at least pushed the elven head into Araminta’s hands and bid her to run. Beyond that, well…
Pressing tongue to the top of mouth to suppress the urge to dry swallow, wondering if he could find something to throw away from them that might pull the statues into action in that same direction. But couldn’t think of anything that would allow him to do so and they couldn’t say what other sort of commotion would result from such an action either.
The soft tugging at his cloak was more than enough for him to follow the unspoken motion. Carefully –oh so carefully- reaching back to lightly touch those fingers gripped upon the fabric in what he hoped was reassuring. Although he wasn’t exactly prone to know how such things worked but had to rely that it was offering the message clear enough.
Prompting him to start that intense slow toe to heel step with gradual motion to avoid any unnecessary shuffling. They just had to get to the stairwell right? Something he didn’t think was going to be simply that simple!
The skull of Ry’seth remained ever quiet, even as he seemed to vibrate and dim his glowing orbs to the faintest of soft blue glows. Only opening up his jaws once when the mountain princess had foolishly continued to whisper complaints, to give a silent pantomime of a scream when more marbled figures looked their way.
Theon need not worry at all if his thoughts were being communicated though simple actions, for Araminta understood without even an ounce of second guessing. Holding tight to his cloak, as she wasn’t going to dare open her eyes again and see that pitiful creature, allowing his slow movement forward to be her guide so she wouldn’t go stumbling off course and crashing into the very statues that were staring them down.
With every step forward towards the spiraling staircase at the end of the hall, the baby deer’s anguished complaints grew louder and more dramatic. The more they ignored it, it grew so terrible it almost sounded as if something was actually attacking it and ripping it to pieces while it stood there in the hall! Araminta was quite nearly to tears, having to bite into her tongue to keep from erupting into a round of sobbing tears, for what a distressing horrible sound it was!
On passing it by, when it seemed they would not be drawn into another reaction, the bleating sound suddenly ceased.
Silence fell upon the corridor once again… only to be followed by a ticktick… tickTICK TOCK TICKTICK SKITTER.
An injured baby deer no longer limped across stone. Long obsidian legs curled and reached out from behind a line of the marble statues, until a full orbed form of a sleek giant spider crawled out into the path.
If that skull had legs to jump with, he’d have lept right out of Theon’s hands and rolled away!
While he was assured in some way that he was particularly hardened to the plight of such noisy suffering, it was truly horrendous. The creature made such a vocal spectacle of dramatics that it was even making him properly unnerved. Wondering if he was in fact giving the right reactions because surely this was true horror.
Having to stop himself from even looking towards it in case any steely reserve he had slipped away to leave nothing left but a reaction of trying to save the thing. Trap or not.
Using the knowledge that this was likely causing Araminta more grief and more reason to keep going. To get them out of this space so she might be able to freely respond without bringing that of the statues to hack and slash.
This was an exceptionally harrowing experience that when the sound seemed to cease so suddenly, that icy chill in his back only grew to reach to his chest. Nearly halting that of painstakingly slow movements to look back. Yet if he was about to, an all too familiar sound began to scratch at his brain. Inviting unwanted recollections of the mines and the massive thing that had ignited a new phobia into his being.
Unfortunately pulling his head to look and find the exact horror that made his entire body both seize up and a renewed panic flare up into throat to give a strangled inhale. Fingers on the hand not carrying Ry’seth moving that palm was exposed and well, igniting the very same thing that had been thrown the last time!
About to become a new fiery inferno! Cause that worked so well the last time!
Araminta had dared to open her eyes even when the anguished bleating of the deer had stopped, so afraid that she was going to look and see a mangled bloody body on the stone floors. Finding that it was an image all too easily imagined, enough to make her feel sick to the stomach and making her wish she were anywhere but here. In those few short seconds, though, something had shifted. A deafening silence followed by a different sort of movement.
…apparently a something that made Theon stop in his tracks so suddenly she was running into his back again! Forcing her to finally open her eyes just so that she wouldn’t be an unwitting extra problem, in case this trek inside the ancient castle was about to turn even more sour.
Even she sucked in a breath when she peered around Theon to see the obsidian spider creeping and crawling out of the very shadows to now block their pathway forward. Ready to grab the man by his cloak and tug him back the way they came!
Only… that black shiny spider back in the hidden buried city had a certain feel to them. Not as strong of a sense that the demon up above had, but still a little tugging of a creature that did not belong to this realm. There was no eerie feeling here and now. This spider may as well have been a ghost.
Araminta cast a quick curious look behind her, finding that the baby deer had indeed vanished along with it’s dreadful cries. No longer there to pull on her heartstrings to urge her into action. Was there an enchantment then? If an injured animal was the perfect thing to make Araminta lose all common sense then, absolutely springing a giant spider would be effective on Theon! The poor man had nearly lost his wits within those caves.
On cue there was that flicker of flame igniting in his palm.
“Hmn!!” the sound was an accident and the result was the entire room’s worth of those marble statues jerking their heads in their direction. More than one now holding upwards a sword as a threatening means of a soon to be attack. Araminta shifted to throw her arms around Theon’s – an awkward feat to do without jostling her lantern, but at least he would not be liable to throw fireballs with her attached.
This was going to be tricky, as she could not convey with words that she didn’t believe this frightening spider was even real at all. Oh it looked real, just as real and dangerous and horrifying as the actual one. As real as that baby deer had looked and sounded. It wasn’t, though. While she tried to beam those thoughts into Theon’s brain with that serious furrowed frown of hers, it was more effective to get them moving.
Guiding him forward – towards that scary spider – with a firm hold on his arm and an unwavering step.
Any sense of reason was swiftly fleeing as though it too were afraid of the colossal obsidian eight legged monstrosity while the heat of palm was about to try again to see how well it liked to be flared up like a bonfire. Somewhere in his mind he knew it was absolutely useless. It had been ever other time but this was the only thing that seemed to be his first response to the creepy crawlies that were bigger than a house!
Issuing fear to be the driver of his body and anything else becoming last in any mannerism of conscious action.
Even the motion of the living golems moving at Araminta knowing that there was about to be a third act of light the spider up, didn’t pull him away from the action. The world around him may as well have become that of a fuzzy black blur of nothing for his ears rang with his own threat of breathing becoming haggard. Crinkling fingers on both palms in unison to grip on Ry’seth in one and tensing the threat of a fireball in the other. Save that Araminta threw her arms around and he damn near leapt right out of his very skin! The only saving grace was probably his natural behaviour of being generally a silent person, that Ghost moniker ever holding.
But he was properly bothered, looking backwards at her holding on and actually fighting the urge to fling her off just to do as he felt like had to be done. Just that the look she had and the way she was then, then, guiding them forward with a hard grip on his arm, he swore that he might become the next statue in the room!
Especially since she was forcing them towards the large nightmare fuel!
Lips parting and not even a gurgle discomfort pronounced as his feet very woodenly began to forcibly move at her motion.
Right now it was a good thing he was devoid of a heart, because it would have fallen right out of his ass! Inciting trembling instead.
For a long moment there, Araminta was so afraid that Theon himself had lost all wits and he might actually push her aside to go flinging fire in every direction that spider dared to skitter. There were few moments she’d ever be forceful with him, but this was surely one. Holding tight to his arm and urging, pulling, and only when his feet finally lift off the stone paving to start inching forward again did she finally breathe.
The closer the walked towards the spiral stairs, towards that gleaming black orb beast, the bigger it seemed to grow. The longer it’s legs seem to stretch. Tippy tapping and rearing up it’s pedipalps as if it were just waiting for them to walk right into it’s maw.
Somehow in this terrifying scenario, all Araminta could think in the way she held Theon’s arm and walking down this long corridor that it was so much like a wedding procession. Albeit one meant for the horror books. Here in this dreadful moment she was having the most silly of intrusive daydreams, while poor Theon was likely terrified to near death. He’d think her a macabre awful thing if he knew!
Still, it was a very soft look of encouragement she gave Theon, even when she was guiding him towards his very nightmare. Closer and closer until they were right upon it, where long legs tapped and curled around them… never touching or reaching. Body rising as they passed right under the beast, but doing naught else but just existing as a menacing reminder.
Ry’seth’s skull seeming to cease it’s stationary vibrations, though those glowing eyes had not yet flared back up.
If she wanted to see just how well facing fears and committing himself to merely doing as little as possible instead of spastically reacting, this was certainly the time for it.
Each careful step forward, made a new finger go numb. His tongue dry out entirely till there was nothing but leather left and the violence of fear attempting to make his bones rattle like maracas inside that of a meat prison. Taking blood and pooling it safely towards the core of his being, leaving everything else to turn itself into pale, cold sweat. Sure that the thing was just getting bigger and bigger as they approached.
Snapping gaze closed even against any sort of desire to do so. Refusing to see what sort of dreadful fate was about to come forward. Leaving it to Araminta to bring them to doom.
This corridor of marbled stone could have been a mile long by the way it felt so agonizingly long just to walk down it. First having her heart twisted and shattered by the cries of a baby animal, only to now watch all the life drain right out of Theon as he was forced to face something that truly terrified him. Araminta knew well that feeling of helpless terror, for she was small and had been through so many awful things. But she knew as well that he would be okay. Theon was brave and strong, he only needed to know he wasn’t alone trapped here. A gentle squeeze to his arm, even as she was practically having to drag him forward and away from the nightmare illusion.
As soon as they had crossed out of the corridor into the empty foyer room that housed the spiral staircase, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Lighter. Easier. Ry’seth coughing and sputtering back to life with all due enthusiasm and complaint.
By the gods had I know I was traveling with miss bleeding heart blabbermouth and sir hellish nightmares I would’ve stayed with my balls!
While he chattered Araminta glanced behind them towards the empty hall. For empty it truly was! No pained deer, no evil spider. Even the statues were back to standing attention as they original were, as if they never had moved at all.
Araminta set her lantern down and in a furious grab, snatched that skull right out of Theon’s hand and lifted it above her head as if she were about to smash him on the ground.
“You wicked undead thing! You might have told us the sort of enchantment on that hall so we might be prepared! I ought to shatter you into a million pieces for scaring Theon to death!”
Help! Haaaalp! How could I know you’re a pair of soft hearted twits! Only mercenaries and madmen come down here! Put me down! Put me down SOFTLY!
He could hear them. Felt Araminta take the skull after a moment and somewhere in the scope of a mind that was twisting around like loose twine in the hurricane, it was attempting to find something to latch back onto. Not even sure when he had opened his eyes once more to find that they had not walked themselves into a spider’s gullet –not even about to question the logic of such a thought.
Taking a moment, three, or five to try and will air back into lungs. Hearing the words of Araminta even as she lofted Ry’seth above her head as though she was about to see how many bone fragments he could crumble into and whether or not he might still be cursed even after to a ever living dead.
But something about the soft hearted twits commentary pulled one of those frayed chords. And suddenly he had a whole other demeanor about himself. As if taking a page out of Ry’seth own book to have glowing eyes, glaring murderous silver daggers upon the skull. “An awful lot of blithering talk for someone who claimed they were the smartest man alive only to be felled by looks and promises far too good to ever be true and found himself being reanimated as no more than a fucking head stuck under his own god damn balls that he seemingly keeps wanting to talk about like they were made out of god damn fucking gold!” Theon hissed low. “It may be your god damn envy to the fact that myself and Ara are still flesh, blood and muscle that you consider yourself worthy to keep prattling on as though you are doing us a favour when in reality had it not been for Araminta’s soft heart, you’d damn well be nothing more than that same pitiful useless god damn caterwauling piece of animated bone back there, left to think about your false superiority while figuratively and some how effectively running away from the glaring results of your own catastrophic failures by the hands of the same god damn blasted feral whore of a mother and accursed black hearted bitch! So unless you want to see how well you continue to do on your own, I suggest you develop a sense of compassion and realize that we are still living people with the very things you lack. Otherwise it won’t be the fear of Araminta throwing you to the ground that will be a new nightmare but me taking you expressively back to Bloody Queen Heirra and offering her as tribute back as her own god damn flesh and blood!”
Two very different expressions stared back at Theon once he’d finished his entire frenzied lecture.
Ry’seth with eyes that had been glowing bright, seemed to have sense enough to cowl down to the lowest of hues, even while hinged jaw remained open wide in a sense of shock.
Then Araminta, who had stopped holding the skull up over her head in vicious threat had lowered it back to a comfortable level, blinking those evergreen eyes with surprise at first before softening to something sweetly soft. Stuffing the skull under her arm at her waist so it was easier to reach forward and lay gentle hand on Theon’s chest over his heart. Waiting patiently until she could catch his gaze, then taking in a looooong deep breath and holding it until he finally mimicked the motion. Letting it out with an equally as slow release.
He’d been terrorized so badly, all that fear had come out in a flurry of ranting… full of so many extra curses, Ry’seth should glad he hadn’t been even more scathing! While Araminta was not pleased he was so upset to be at this point, there was a certain amount of pride in knowing Theon had grown to a point of being able to speak his mind towards those that were being ill-behave.
…now he just needed to learn when to breathe.
Mother? Ry’seth finally dared to croak. …MY SON?
Araminta burst into sudden lyrical laughter! The rush of adrenaline, the pure absurdity… it all mixed into this quick last that she just as fast stifled by slapping her free hand over her mouth from the embarrassment of doing something so improperly impolite! How rude to laugh at such a moment when Theon was so very stressed.
“I’m- I’m sorry. I- Oh,” the princess huffed. Grabbing the skull in two hands again to face her, so she could scold him properly. “A skull could not have a son, you foolish thing. Now if you do not help us properly this time, I’ll let Theon take you right to Heirra’s new castle and toss you into her window. We’re in enough danger already without you forgetting important details.”
The skull rumbled, but he did not ignite back to his usual caterwauling. Seeming to be properly chided in the moment, not just once but twice.
Alright, alright, then. No need to shout a man down to smithereens! I was old when I died, a man forgets details here and there! I only want to go back to my final rest, you know. Up this staircase and around the bend you’ll find what you need. But don’t go blaming me if you get caught out by that undead bastard. I’m bones, not a damn tracker!
There was no trace in his turbulent thoughts of the last or really first time he had been this furious. Even when they faced off against the blackened nightmare in that mine, he had been upset by all means but it hadn’t reached this level of pure umbra laden ichor that made it so hot in his chest that there ought to be some worry he too was about to ignite into flames. However, he was more than at the fill of listening to people consistently bad mouth that of Araminta, in particular.
He was included on that but truthfully, it was minor between the two compulsions. So even if his mouth found itself to be scathing articulated in ways it was not familiar with moving too, it came out. Settling to glaring mercurial venom at this hoity toity skull. Contemplating perhaps of truly picking Ry’seth up and throwing him into the Imperial Queen’s throne room. Although that was more likely to get himself caught, the lack of reasoning and fundamental thought was absent in that fuming ire.
Patted by a gentle smothering hand when Araminta decided that she would wish his attention. Embarrassment rising like a tidal wave. Cooling down that fiery tongue that the motion of mimicking Araminta’s breathing was short. Turning more so to look away as features took that heat of burning in bright crimson. Attempting to match the red of his hair, leaving the means of conversation to the two of them.
Certainly it would seem that Ry’seth had a moment that spurred Araminta to jubilant giggles. Bemused at the confusion whilst he eagerly sheltered behind that mask of practiced indifference to privately soothe the mortification for such an verbal explosion and threats. Merely lending ear to hear after the mountain princess curbed the titters to chide Ry’seth for his nonsense while pointing out that if he wasn’t more helpful then she would allow him to be a tyrant.
Now that head cooled, the whole horror of his spiel really did should properly atrocious. Honestly, he would never actually bring anyone again to the Imperial Queen, alive or dead.
Settling to be the silent follower once more as the mental and emotional pieces were surreptitiously stacked back together in the safety of his own being. Hopefully this would be the last leg of this wild trial but didn’t truthfully believe it would be.
Araminta wanted nothing more than to make this all okay for Theon. But as he had told her, she had to let him feel his feelings, even the ones that were uncomfortable for him. Still that bright red to his features, the embarrassment at the display of emotion, was almost too much for her to bear. Reaching out to gently cup his cheek and brush thumb over that exposed flushing to at least gesture that things were alright, without burdening him with one of her encouraging speeches. Shifting then to pick up her lantern to pass over to Theon.
Ry’seth and his troublesome mouth would stay with her now!
With the dead elf’s promise that what they sought would be right up those stairs, Araminta made haste to take them up quickly. A little more difficult with the way the wound in a circle upwards, somehow making it an dizzying experience and forcing her to pace it a little more reasonably lest she accidentally make a misstep. Those same magically glowing scones kept everything visible in a warm hue all the way until the staircase opened up into a new grand room.
Much like the lower floor of this ancient castle, it was all clean stone and beautiful architecture. Fae and elvish design, with old tapestries that’d faded to threadbare and fragile scraps. This particular chamber was large enough to be some sort of gathering place, perhaps even a ballroom. As they wandered farther within, though, it revealed itself to be more like a place of worship with stone seatings lining up along an aisle.
That eerie sensation of something not right burned softly within Araminta. The way it tingled up her spine the further steps she took. Finally finding the cause of it at the head of the room.
Where once there was several statues of the old gods, stationed in a curved half moon, it seemed someone had made a very deliberate attempt of destroying them. Smashing heads and limbs away. Shattering the beautiful stone until the forms were no longer recognizable. In their place in the center of the setting was a new figure. Much like the beastly statue in Neive, this one was the form of an onyx dragon with huge spread wings and two curled tails. It sat gaping it’s maw over a stone slab that was so stained with rust red that one would’ve never realized it was once a pale granite if it weren’t for the stains that streamed down to pool around it on the floor.
Old gods replace by another demon idol. At least this time Araminta knew better than to try her luck at destroying the thing.
“What now?” she asked the skull.
Fuck if I know, he grumped. This is where that bastard does his work. Desecrating a once magnificent temple with his necromancy and fiendish craft. One so powerful would not keep his soul in a single phylactery, but he could not cast such levels of magic without at least one here within these chambers. You only need find it.
There was an less unfamiliar and quiet desire that sought little else than to sequester away from the wild harp of his own tongue, tempered by just a bit of touch. A former lacking sensation that now seemed to almost made him into a greedy troll seeking after its fleeting disappearance after the heat of palm slipped away. Letting the hues of argent follow but overall just being grateful that Araminta was leaving it as is. Allowing him to stew in the motions as he needed rather than soothing it all away. Perhaps he may had wanted it but it was an unhealthy coping mechanism that would barely replace the bad ones he already had!
They moved on. Setting themselves to climb the spiral staircase at a moderate pace less the spins start to tumble feet back down the way they had come. Appreciating the stony appearance of the world while noting the means of the opening floor being a odd mixture of deco design that had been cruelly modified into something that was hardly stunning but still breathtaking. In a truly terrible way.
With his own attention rising to consider the destruction of old gods for the replacement of ebon behemoth of a ilking draconic monstrosity that made his skin feel like frozen glass. The room flooded with a disgusting presence that reminded him vaguely of the demonic shrine in the plague town, just this was in a state of better kempt. Which was not saying a terrible lot.
Lifting the lantern in futile effort as though the light would purify the very room, he was idly glancing to Ry’seth statement about not knowing what to do next but stating that the place was likely to have one of the very things Araminta needed. Prompting the gray eyes to move around the room once more in vain efforts of it just simply standing out. But paused, “It is a place of activity. Important work to those of the very foul craft. How likely is it that they would arrange traps to avoid one tampering with anything.” He asked. As the former smartest man alive, surely Ry’seth would have ideas of how one protected their work from snoopy souls.
None have ever made it this far, revealed Ry’seth, and even he seemed to be surprised and awed by it. There are no traps here, but it is not likely to be empty for long. Search QUICKLY!
Funnily enough, he seemed to be minding his manners better now, though he was still vibrating with tension in Araminta’s hands. It prompted the princess’ spinning wheels to consider things carefully. Stepping further into the chamber as there was no time to waste just standing around having idle conversation, when this was a room actively used by a lich itself… and from the looks of it, by the cultists as well!
“What do they do here? …besides virgin sacrifices.” Araminta asked with a wrinkle of her nose, remembering that little tidbit of his chattering. She crossed over to the stone alter and placed Ry’seth there, brushing her hands over her hips in a nervous motion before she began her usual snooping. Unlike the caves, there was not cluttered scattered around on shelves and tables. There were tools of sorcery set aside, but not much else beyond the original decor and ruins of the ancient castle.
Oh now you wish to see why Ry’seth Ael Brydove was once the smartest man in all the lands! Apparently he wasn’t done being sassy after all! In my time I was a great scholar, after all, I was the Keeper of Tomes. Guardian of ancient knowledge kept within the most beautiful library in the world. One need not be a seer to see the lines of history and to know of dangers that will come in the future!
There were several more blabbering sentences after that, filled mostly with boasting and useless details that were not even remotely important. At some point Araminta was spotted heaving a heavy sigh, too polite to tell him to hush… or perhaps even had a reason to let him continue on. Occasionally pausing in her search to cast him a squint of her eyes, or cast Theon a quick examining look to assure herself he was still nearby and doing okay.
…It was right there in the pages, of the Wyvern seeking a vassal to return again. Because demons don’t die, you know! You can shift them to new forms, you can expel the demonic magic, you can seal them away, you can return them to their realm. But as long as they are demon they never die. And these fools let her become known as the Forgotten One! If you let something become forgotten, then of course it will eventually surge it’s way back because the idjits don’t remember what an awful pain in the ass it once was!
This was beginning to paint in little pieces of the bigger picture… though it was not at all answering any real questions. If wyvern meant Black Wyvern, as Sir Reeves had mentioned this cult… was that their goal, then? Did the Imperial Queen worship this ancient creature, or did she have something more horrifying in mind!
He wasn’t entirely sold on the idea that this place may be devoid of traps. Knowing well enough from history in his own personal investigations of areas that he was sent too by that of parent, that some scholars could be very feisty when they wanted to protect something. Something that was not meant to be in the hands of any other and they absolutely got creative.
The scar across his brow was enough to remind him of that having barely missed a shoot thick needle taking out the whole of eye!
Yet the nattering skull was surprised for a few seconds till Araminta queried the use of such an area. Allowing him to veer a little to search for anything that might seem either out of place or too in place that it stood out. A jar of some sort. Either fancy or not. A box in equal measures whilst Ry’seth apparently got his wind back to be a verbal blowhard blithering away about his former greatness.
It was probably a good thing he didn’t have hands because he’d surely be patting himself on the back.
Thankfully he was still personally humbled by his own explosion that there was not about to be a second showing of ire spilling past his lips to hasten the nattering elf skull to get to the point. Letting his constantly blathering turn into near white noise as one searched. Being mindful not to move things so drastically that they could be noticed upon swift entry. Whilst in turn throwing an eye back to the entry of the room to hopefully avoid catching the look of a new problem in the face of a necromancy lord.
There were things going in and it seemed more near the mention of the Wyvern. Glancing over some neatly organized papers, then some dark relics that he didn’t need to start putting hands on to know they were of all sorts of bad news. Scrolling vision upwards to said wyvern monument and wondered. And accepted so easily that the Imperial Queen was likely one that followed this verbal statement that Ry’seth gave, or was well… attempting to be a host for the very thing. He wouldn’t be surprised at this point and already knew the woman that born him and countless others was nothing mortal in any sense. Just a formed humanoid shape of evil maliciousness that was meant to please her own desires.
This may have been much easier if the grim dog was still with them to sniff and hunt, leaving Araminta standing there for a moment with her hands on her hips as she attempted to think through it. Confident the animal spirit had likely returned back to it’s graveyard duties once it was done chomping that enormous demon. If one demon was loose in the Imperial Kingdoms, how many others? With two demon idols here, a demon cult, and even living demons all at the beck and call of Bloody Queen Heirra, could it be likely that Heirra herself had a hand in unleashing the hoard into Caeldalmor? Create chaos and devastation in a variety of ways in order to pull in countries at their weakest?
Perfectly plausible and it was infuriating. Enough to make even Araminta dream up all kinds of violence! As she stood there pondering the alter covered in who knew how many years of sacrificed blood, she did second guess for a moment if continuing the trials was the righ course to take. If she should try something more direct to get that woman off the throne.
Only to just as quickly affirm to herself this was the right path. The woman was powerful and ready for armies and big bloody battles, as she built her empire with it! What she didn’t expect was someone like Araminta, slipping in through unexpected means and seeing things from such a different perspective. She’d gotten this far because of it. Now even had Theon because of it.
Tapping her chin thoughtfully, it was that idea of different perspectives that had her adjusting the way she searched. First pulling up her cowl over her head and raising up her hands to wiggle fingers and creepy-creep over to the alter where the skull of Ry’seth clacked his bone teeth in confusion.
What in the nine hells are you doing?
“I thought there were only seven hells?” she answered, reaching for his skull to arrange on the alter where a head might go. The acquiring one of the nasty looking knifes that surely were meant for slaughtering, to wiggling over the alter more like she was salting a dish rather than making a pantomime of killing.
There are many hells! What manner of nonsense are you up to! You look ridiculous!
“I am a lich,” she explained easily, standing there and pondering exactly what an evil lich might be doing here at the alter as she looked outward towards the full chamber. One full of ego, needing magic to sacrifice and cast his spells. Ry’seth had said he needed at least one phylactery nearby in order to do the powerful spells. So where might one put it where it would be useful? There were lots of shelves and pedestals, but those all seemed like afterthoughts and not nearly important enough.
Araminta rounded the alter to the other side, making those silly motions again before raising up her hands. Finding herself glancing upwards at the dark dragon figure that leaned over the very space. It was this idol they made offerings to, or would be patron to the lich. Staring at it’s open wings, along to it’s stretched neck and open jowls that practically leaned towards the alter as if it was always meant to devour what was presented there.
With a blink she turned to flick her cowl back and glance over her shoulder.
“Theon!” she called, pointing up towards the open mouthed figure. “I need a boost up?”
After a moment once Araminta had gotten herself into character and in turn, sufficiently weirded Ry’seth out; he personally didn’t stop looking around to really observe. Not even sure when he had gotten accustomed to Araminta’s out of the box thinking. Just knowing that he most certainly had and all of this was nothing too strange for him to bare witness too.
It had to be when she lulled the fae creatures to sleep because truly, that was a reckless and wild thing to have successfully managed. So while she was putting on her theatrical show with the elven skull probably questioning just how in the undetermined amount of hells, he had gotten mixed up; he personally went to study one of the other shelving units.
Taking a study towards the world at times to consider the very space but ultimately wasn’t exactly picking up anything.
One would think as a mage, he might be able to feel the pull of magical energies. Good or bad. However, with him being easily lesser than such a title and untrained in leagues outside his own efforts while being certainly not as faeish as he ought to be either; he was simply additional eyes. Useless in their own right.
Till his name was called and like a hound beckoned, he came over to her heed immediately. Looking where she was pointing before nodding. A good trained beastie he was to respond without question. Adjusting body to bend and cradle hands for her to get a foot up so he could boost her up as she needed. If not up to shoulders if the extension of added height was further needed. Ready to following as ever.
Normally Araminta would’ve tugged off her boots as to not get Theon all dusty, but here in this place it wasn’t wise. Even still, she muttered soft sorry when she did step onto his hands for the little boost, having no issues at all with the dexterity it took to step even further up onto his shoulders and balance herself as if she were an act in a circus. Araminta didn’t have leagues of brute strength but at least she was agile and light and gentle on her feet.
Getting up, close and personal with the wyvern shaped dragon did not make it any less imposing than it was on the ground. What a formidable snarl it had for a thing made of stone! There was no special gem or object set within the eye sockets, that would’ve been too easy and not where Araminta would’ve put such a valuable and precious item either. Instead, it was into that very gaping maw that she stuck her hand. Reaching, reaching, all the way down it’s gullet until she was standing on her tippy-toes and finally found the bottom of it’s depths.
Wrapping fingers around something solid with a delighted little Ah!
It should’ve been no surprise at all when the temperature in the chamber suddenly grew to such an icy chill that lines of frost were blooming across the stone floors and climbing up the pillars.
And dragon’s maw snapped shut right on Araminta’s arm! Leaving the girl yelping the same moment Ry’seth hissed a frantic he’s coming! Araminta’s feet left Theon’s shoulders to shove against the stony neck of the idol to attempt to get herself loose, but the monstrous thing held fast!
So much for there not being traps here!
Standing there with Araminta on his shoulder’s wasn’t on his trial bingo card, but out of all the things that could have happened well… this was considerably the less of things to ever stress about. Even if he wasn’t the largest of fan’s of her decidedly getting into things that probably weren’t meant to be investigated at all. Wondering somewhere of the sort of stories about the woman that he cared deeply for, if she had been prone to getting into places she shouldn’t have. Then getting stuck.
Scribbling figuratively the question down on a list to ask about later, he’d been somewhat considering the altar that Ry’seth was rested upon. The stain of red so thick and plentiful that it did make one idly wonder, what did the necromancers do with their victims and what did the victim do for what he assumed was a very powerful spell.
It was a dark thought that went shortly into nothing because the room started to turn icy cold. Hearing the faint crackling of quick moving frost forming that even without Ry’seth’s hissing statement, Theon already feared the reality. A deathly chill were a sort of telltale calling card for those in which were undead after all. And it only seemed to get worse –because of course it did- when Araminta had yelped. Her feet leaving his shoulders causing him to look up to her and see how her hand was in the maw of the stony statue. With it happily deciding to keep her arm inside!
There was little time after all! And the only thing he could think of first was well, a rather heavily potent spell that had already knocked him out before but well, hopefully the whole dark arts now would not like the influx of light magic.
“Surely you know of something to get it to release,” Theon hissed whispered at Ry’seth without pointing out again the smartest man once alive thing. “Let go of the thing instead, Ara. Will it release if you do?” speaking quickly as he mounted over the sacrificial altar with the familiar chant once more coming up to throw a flurry of mana into the light barrier spell once more. Skidding a bit away with his landing to raise the spell and barrier themselves within it. Hoping that even if the lich came in, it might not be thrilled to have its direct opposite alignment presented.
Or they’d get lucky and the black wyvern statue may release Araminta due to the same reasons. He had no idea, he was literally doing all of this by the seat of his pants!
“I’m not letting it go!” squeaked out Araminta so seriously, so stubbornly that it appeared she was willing to risk losing her arm for the sake of completing this trial. There was no time to explain to Theon her cascade of thoughts and reasons – there we too many – only that in the moment she’d felt they’d come too far and gone through too much only to fail in the last moments!
Besides, they wouldn’t have failed unless they died and Araminta intended to keep her promise.
The frost kept crawling across the entire chamber until the place was as cold as any mountain cave. Sending wisps of their warm breath twirling into the air. Araminta stopped all of her struggling, legs wrapped around that wyvern statue, her free hand grasping onto one of it’s twisted horns, as if she were a tree monkey doing this naturally every day. Glancing over her shoulder with her heart beating a thousand miles per minute while Theon muttered some odd arrangement of words and cast some sort of barrier spell.
It was nice knowing you both. Can’t believe I didn’t even get your names so I could tell the next idjits just how far you managed to get in here. Guess I’ll be back to looking at my own balls before long. Or WORSE sitting up on a shelf having to listen to those robed morons talk about killing and maiming. THANKS, I guess.
“Ry’seth!” shouted Araminta. “Be useful!”
I don’t know how to get it to let go, I didn’t know it could do that at all! He complained wildly, now in his own sort of panic. Just drop the damn thing!
“Bold of you to come down here, Blood of Heirra…”
The voice sounded like claws scratching down glass. Echoing in the chamber at first with no form for it to belong too until a gust of frost cold wind swirled up dust and ice to reveal a crotchety, grizzled figured that was most certainly DEAD. The clothing he wore was a good several centuries out of fashion, hung on him loose and shredded, floating along in the wind where he hovered outside of the light barrier. His skin too hung sallow and drooping on his bones, where all the meat an muscle had long since decayed away. The most apparent thing, however, was how his power seemed to give him a visible aura of a purple hue. Much like the landscape up above, he too was tainted with the magic.
When he opened his palms to gesture towards them, it was clear then too that he could use it.
“Here you stand. Hollow. Empty. How does it feel, Blood of Heirra, to know that you are nothing?”
There was no time to even gently attempt to persuade Araminta into releasing whatever she had in her hand, inside the statue. Likely the very thing she was looking for but right now, they were being visited by a the owner of this very twisted sanctum and that meant they were out of time.
Funny that even as this was happening, he still would have taken the lich over the massive spider.
Throwing up the means of the holy barrier in a vain effort to try and by at least Araminta and maybe Ry’seth some time to figure out how to get the damn vial or whatever out of the black wyvern. Before they either frozen to death or were turned into the living dead because they were in the wrong house stealing something that was vital to the very being that was coming. And of course, Ry’seth was just prattling on in such a way that if the chance had presented itself, he just might be drop kicking the skull out the nearest window!
Not even sure there had been anyone else in this world that had managed to stir up such a flurry of anger in him once, let alone a second time! But the damn chattering skull was certainly giving it his all.
Teeth chattered violently with the exposure to the cold and found himself promptly deciding that if this was anything like how cold Araminta’s mountain home could get too, he truly was not a fan of it. Stretching fingers out to hold the barrier bubbled around them while the voice spoke. Pulling nerves and tingles of the worst kind down his back only that it was clearly a prelude to look at the very decayed being moments next.
He’d seen undead before. But they were generally mindless. This, was hardly that. With an ebb of purple moving about their body to show that they were simply one of the very same beings of tainted existence that this damn castle was.
Wanting to glance back at Araminta, he didn’t dare break the concentration. Only that right now, he was hardly surprised that something of this magnitude could tell that he shared unfortunate blood with the Imperial Queen.
Right now, the lich didn’t seem to at least be stepping forward to break the barrier. Something in his head rang that the barrier was no more than a measly irritation rather than anything he had hoped it would be but that wouldn’t be a reason to drop it. “You are asking a question for no validity.” Theon grit his teeth, “Even if it is just open musing, the knowledge that I am nothing is not new.” He could have shrugged indifferently at that. The reality was, he knew he had been nothing from the first real thought he ever had. And it was still an abundant part of him that existed even now. Even with Araminta, that sense of nothing was as familiar to him as oxygen. “If you seek to weaken my thoughts with such things, then I am afraid you’ll have to think of something different. The Imperial Queen has already assured that I knew my existence as naught as long as I can remember. The hollow part is new but not undeserved.”
If the lich wanted to taunt him, that was fine. But again, he had a suspicion that the lich wouldn’t bother with him for long once it realized there was little about him that was worth toying with. However, if it helped Araminta think of something, then this was all he could do. A feeble barrier and unwanted invite to speak to a thing long sense dead.
Araminta did not like this conversation but her own focus remained on a single task, trusting that Theon was going to buy her the time… while also having a gut churning fear that she was about to bear witness to their final moments. With all the strength in her tiny body, she pulled and pulled hard. Almost even gaining an inch of freedom before something else clamped down. Sharp and painful deep into the skin… teeth apparently! The blasted thing had teeth and it took all her effort not to yelp in pain, to distract Theon and make this worse.
Shredding her own arm was not a good option. She had to think! Fumbling her free hand around the head of of the massive statue looking for some sort of release.
The lich remained so eerily calm, with not a hint of concern about his unwanted guests. So confident in his power that he merely hovered outside the skirts of the light barrier. Watching and waiting, for what else did a lich have but endless time?
“You do not even know what you miss. What a special kind of hell to live being a fae without wings. A fae without heart, without soul. Without the magic that makes you whole.”
Floating closer and closer to the light barrier, the entire chamber grew to such a depth of cold that more than just frost was starting to appear, but flakes of snow swirling in the large open room. He reached out a palm of purple misty hue, spreading fingers near the barrier but seeming to dare not touch it. Or was it a threat that he would touch it?
“Have you not tried to grasp it? To feel it? Reach out for it. It’s there. Beating lonesome in a wooden box, not even being used to it’s full potential. To think, your mother in all of her ambition learned something so magnificent and yet did not stay long enough to see it’s true potential…”
Don’t listen to this madman, he is as twisted as that cold hearted bitch! warned Ry’seth.
The lich only laughed.
“Words of a fool. So enamored with the idea of a fresh new life, he helped damn these very lands to the state it is now.”
Ry’seth immediately shut his boney jaws.
“Tell me, Blood of Heirra,” the lich continued, now floating the outskirts of the barrier. “Do you bring me that fae-touched daughter as a gift or have you come to betray your own blood, as your mother once betrayed hers.”
Narrowing that of stare upon this crypt fiend of true hell, it seemed to be quite the thing of the undead. To talk. Speaking up in an rattling calm that even as the hall itself was turning into a wintery grave, he had to keep buying time. Knowing that between the two of them, it was Araminta that was the one that had the wits and smarts for this. Well many things but that would be a list that would be endless if he even started dictating it. Yet the statement about how he didn’t know what he missed, to be a half fae with absolutely little, Theon could only shrug.
Watching the lich with authentic composure to the words. “I can’t miss what I never known.” Which was true. Yes, he was partially fae but as stated numerous times, he had no idea about it. He wasn’t human enough to be human and not fae enough to be fae. Not flesh enough to be son or brother. So what this lich was trying to grasp at was failing. Likely any other would be wilting at such statements but to him, they were already facts of his reality.
It was more watching as this everlord of death moved closer and spread fingers in purple outwards. Steeling his own footing in hopes that if it did touch it, the barrier wouldn’t faltered.
Hoping that the need for its own prattling monologue was enough to keep it focused on him. Asking if he had not tried to reach out to find where his heart was and Theon, for all measure, shook his head. There was no reason to lie. Though he had never verbally –outside of anger actually- ever called the Imperial Queen mother either, this lich apparently wanted too.
Suddenly Ry’seth was trying to say what was already known, but found that the lich was giving details about the man in return. Enough that the elf shut his trap quickly.
Rolling lip through teeth as the ebb of manna was moving heavily through to keep the holy bubble intact, he offered a slight tilt of head up to the imposing creature of dead. “Neither.” Theon wasn’t about to give in or up anything in this moment. Though hearing Araminta called as fae-touched daughter was curious. But at this point, it surely was pretty much a silent assumption that she had fae somewhere in her. For her luck, her tenacity and so forth. If he was about to be mind blown, this was not the moment.
“The way you speak,” Theon hinged on a thought though, “It sounds as though you are looking for a deal of some sort. She is not part of any deals for there is more good she can do for many than none, even if it sounds foolish to that of undead ears.” He considered a moment longer, “Nor do I seek to repeat the Imperial Queen’s actions of laying waste to others if possible. However… you are speaking at me as though there is something to gain from it. I assume you are looking for a new sacrifice then.”
“The fae-touched daughter is already dead. The moment the Blood Queen laid eyes on her.”
That sent a shiver up Araminta’s spine. She didn’t say a peep, however, twisting to get a peep of the creeping lich, warily watching as he prowled around their small bubble of sanctuary. Theon was not wrong, it seemed strange that he was speaking and not even attempting to attack them! Then he decided to answer he own unspoken question.
“I am no boasting lesser minion, here to regale you of my master plans. There is no deal I need made. I merely need wait for I am eternal. While you… manna leaches away from you with every second you hold this spell. The fae-touched daughter bleeds her life’s blood. You are as I said. Nothing.”
There was a statement that rang with so much truth that it almost gave rise to an instant panic. All of her cleverness and all of her ideas didn’t mean anything to an immortal creature, when all he had to do was stand there and wait for them to get tired! At least if she weren’t currently a demon idle’s chew toy they could attempt to make a run for it–
That’s what they needed then. A chance to run.
Araminta pulled the gifted bone knife from her belt and jammed it inside the jowls of the awful stone wyvern, trying her best to pry it back open again.
“Only one of you will die here,” remarked the lich with his own inkling of curiosity. “You know it will not be you. The Blood Queen will not allow it. Perhaps it is time you pledge yourself to a new master and learn the necromantic arts, so that you might bring the fae-touched daughter back from her grave.”
There was truth there. He could feel it already and the reminding knowledge only seconds next that he was nothing merely confirmed it.
Nothing.
Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised anymore. And maybe he really wasn’t. At least regarding himself. With a statement of blood and Araminta; a glance back may have shown better that she had been pinned in the statue and likely with the daggers posing as stony teeth, she was probably quite literally bleeding into the gullet. Save there was nothing he could do, was there? A nice reminder and a new honorary title of what else he just wasn’t quite enough for.
Words he said before. He was no knight. No prince. Now add on the strike that he wasn’t even valuable enough to be traded in for Araminta whilst simultaneously managing to do absolutely zero when it came to the trial. The lich just had to wait and one might know that it likely wasn’t long before the barrier would sap the limited resource of manna and throw him into the bout of manna sickness once more.
The wintery hell wasn’t helping either. He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes anymore. The vibration of shivering from it and likely the stated leaching of manna from his body. Although he wasn’t terribly convinced the Blood Queen would be able to stop his heart from lessening its beat due to circumstances, so… guess he had better make those circumstances work.
It was a very careless risk but so be it.
As stated he was nothing. So there was little reason not to just throw it in and try even if the result would be the same.
The barrier flickered only for the palm of hand to burn orange. Giving up the means of speaking for it had never served him anyways. Igniting a small fireball at the lich’s feet as his head spun with the change of abilities. But warmed temporarily from the heat before it was overtaken by the cold.
If the Imperial Queen wouldn’t let him die, then guess he had no reason to not push further, now did he. Forcing dominant hand to reach for the sword and leap clumsily towards the necrolord. So long as time could be given in some way then hopefully Araminta could run. That was literally the only thing now, wasn’t it.
A lich of such power had few weaknesses. Holy light being paramount, as regardless of his power he had not dared to cross the barrier. Fire too was a powerful option, for he did react in swift tandem to leap backwards from the flame. Opening up his leathered jaw to let out such a loud and ear piercing undead screech that it echoed out through the halls of the ancient buried castle.
If those cultists did not know where they were before, they knew for certain now.
“There you are. So you are not nothing after all,” he taunted back, seeming to be thrilled with this development even as he evaded getting swiped at by cold steel. Beckoning with his withered hands, taunting with a sudden fling of violet frost, urging Theon to follow him further and further away from the idol and it’s bleeding treat. “Show me why you are the Blood Queen’s Hunstman, fae child.”
In these moments there was no telling where Araminta got the fortitude to keep her calm when things were falling apart around her. The chamber had grown colder now than she had ever felt in her life. Beyond a mountain blizzard, a sort of cold that was seeping down to touch her bones and almost felt so reminiscent of the demon poison that’d ran it’s course through her veins. There was even a terrified thought that this idol was leeching that same pitch black through it’s awful stone teeth right into her blood. Prying so desperately with the fae bone knife, that it was a shock when the wyvern statue actually popped it’s jaw open and she went dropping to the ground with a loud THUMP! Landing on her back hard enough to knock all the wind out of her.
Great shitting balls, get up! Get up and get me out of here! yelped the skull of Ry’seth.
“How to you stop a lich!” she hissed back at him, rolling to her knees and finding that she was so cold that her whole body was stiff and difficult to move. Checking the wound on her arm to see if anything black and septic was seeping out, and somewhat relieved to find that for now it was only a familiar red.
Destroy the phylactery, but it would have to be EVERY phylactery and–
“What else!” she shouted this time, snatching up the skull and holding him just long enough for answers.
Holy magic, light magic, an insane amount of fire, magical relics, enchanted weapons–
That was enough. Ry’seth the skull found himself muffled screaming as he went into Araminta’s pack, along with the mysterious item she had pulled from the wyvern’s maw. Without hesitation she was running for Theon, only skidding to a sudden stop of the frozen stone floors when the lich itself looked right at her and grinned the sort of grin that made all of her insides lurch.
He gathered an orb of magic just for her and as he shot it, Araminta dove for the ground and slung her faerie bone knife to Theon.
No, the first assessment was correct. Not this goading motion to take back words. The only thing now was the fact that the Imperial Queen would not want him to be dead before she could do it herself with her own hands. More than aware that the woman sought to do so because it would only be fair to her to slaughter him for disobeying in the first place. So while this decrypted looking thing from a century and more past was suggesting suddenly the opposite, he didn’t find it exactly rewarding.
Just that it was leaping away from the means of flame and steel. The cold promptly sapping away the heat that even as his head spun as though he had been spinning in circles for hours, there was at least some awareness to keep attacking.
Too bad he was not the most conversational person because the comment of being called the huntsman was equally as wrong as fae child and not nothing.
He was and likely still was in history the dog of the Imperial Queen.
The incomplete unknown.
And the glaring void bagatelle.
At least that knowledge, that recollection of himself was good to keep him from floundering. Perhaps that was one thing done well as the worthless hound; he knew when to just act. Throwing another bout of the fiery density of flame towards the leaping back monstrosity. Feeling the bleed and struggle of the reserves crumpling quickly at the pool of magic that was quite pitiful when it came to large spells. However, if it kept this lich back. If it kept them moving away as the thing wanted and giving Araminta time to use her cleverness to escape, then that’s the parts that mattered.
It would seem his attempts to be less reckless were to be in vain though. Knowing that he’d disappointed and worried the princess of the frozen lands before when he had returned from hunting in a state of proper breakage and fatigue. Although he would not apologize for trying to assure at least she had a fighting chance in any measure!
It was an obvious game of cat and mouse now. Just the lich was the cat and he was the stupid mouse that kept trying to best the undead creation. A grossly unfair match that had only the outcome of him still failing.
If he could just keep the lich at bay, for long enough! Apparently long enough because Araminta was appearing with the muffled screams of a head that from a very quick glance was absent. Shoved somewhere! Only that his features twisted up in panic that she was this close, skidding across the ground and, it all happened so quickly! The concentration of necrotic magic in a form of a orb shot towards her and the bone knife slung towards him, what the hell! “Ara!”
Boy, did he feel it. The threads of overspent magic being called. Outstretched in fingers to hopefully erect a short lived barrier once more as he feebly grabbed and fumbled and grabbed again for the knife.
Not even really sure what the hell to do besides just throw the damn thing as hard as he could at the stupid lich! It was already fast and he was once more at those limits! Feeling the measure of rupture bursting as knees struck the floor. Palms falling shortly after with the spluttering hacking of vibrant red vomiting itself up.
One doesn’t demand the use of magic when the reserves are gone and expect to free of being charged, did they!?
Sharper than any steel and flying true, that bone knife struck the lich straight dead into the heart. Shock appearing on his leathery features in that first instance, before a wide, grizzly smile bloomed onto his features as an obsidian black began to ooze from the wound. His jaw opened, wider and wider to let out another horrifying shriek, then like a blitz of shattered glass, he too shattered into crumbles of frost and ash. The fae bone knife clattering to the stone floor.
When Araminta peeked up from where she’d collapsed on the floor, all she could think: This was too easy.
This was too easy.
This WAS too easy!
No time to think, no time to access the damages or try to figure out what happened. Araminta scrambled to her feet with a grunt darting to snatch up her knife and tuck it away where it belong before quickly rushing to Theon.
“Get up,” she demanded with a surprising amount of gentleness for a statement so curt and firm. “Get up!” The sort of tone a parent or someone that actually loved you but wasn’t about to hear any arguments! Araminta even grabbed him bodily by the armor to help him up to his feet as best she could. Seemingly already taking stock on whether or not she was going to have to literally drag him out on her back. She’d done it once before, she would do so again.
“This trial is done, we need to go as fast as we can! Don’t break your promise!”
It hurt. A white hot agony ripping through belly to chest to throat. Tearing away interior flesh to pay for the cost of the magic used without that of actual currency. If one could not pay with manna, then bodily bio material would suffice. Forcing him down in the blinding pain. Skinning and breaking whatever was necessary inside to act as a suitable payment.
The crimson lifeblood being expelled in reply, he wasn’t sure what was happening. A head thundered so loud that as the lich began to scream, it was almost a symphony for the shrill agony pulling through gray matter and bone.
Spinning so swift that the world around may as well have been on a carousel.
The cold blistering between sweat dripping wetly between shoulders blades and blood oozing from lips.
It could have been a minute. An hour. A year!
Only that he wasn’t particularly clear when or where she’d come from. Only that, “Y-you… are al-lright.” Relief was somewhere swimming amongst the agony. Before new pain blistered behind eyes as the clear insistence that he was to move.
A promise?
A promise.
“A…” Hissing sharply as guts flexed to get himself to feet, nodding to show he wouldn’t disregard her words or the reminder that he had promised at all, chilled cold fingers reached up. To push her own away, “G-go.” Theon rasped, “Go… I’ll be r-right behind.”
They had no time for him to be useless even further. No time to keel over or pass out from his own overuse once more. Forcing back and choking down the bloody bile at throats edge, feet gathered. “L… Lead o-on Araminta.”
There was an urge to scream, to curse, to yell at him for once again expelling more than he had to give just to shield her. Ignoring the fact she would have lept in front of any attack to protect Theon herself… that wasn’t the point here! They were still in danger and she did not trust this all too simple means of dispelling a lich. Even if they had somehow beaten the odds and killed the thing, there was still a host of cultists and a demon that would soon follow it’s death cries to find them!
Nor was she about to Go and simply Lead On and give chance that he’d collapse behind her and never catch up. Araminta only led on in the way she grabbed is hand and pulled his arm over her shoulder. Allowing him to trail behind with shuffling feet, but still having a grip to pull him ever forward. If he stumbled, she could catch him best this way and still keep going. The rest… she would figure it out.
Araminta opened the flap on her bag and shook it.
“Which is the way out?” she insisted with all urgency.
Out! You said you would be me back to my resting place!
“We cannot do so if we’re dead! Tell me a way out of here or I’ll shatter you to the hells. ALL of them!” she threatened, and never was a threat more serious.
Up! Go up! For fuck’s sake, take that third door over there and follow any staircase going up that you see!
And so Araminta did. Setting the pace as speedy as she could, knowing she could not force Theon to move any faster than his body could manage, but not about to let him dare attempt to rest or give in to any manna sickness he felt. It was a callous brutal thing to do, she knew. He was not likely to think her sweet or gentle anymore, but what else was there to do! Araminta had no strength of muscle to whisk him into arms, nor magic to faerie them away. All she had was stubbornness.
When she managed to get to the first set of stairs and looked, up, up up, she prayed that stubbornness would be enough! Dragging a man up flights of stairs was not going to be as easy as turtling him across the forest floor!
He had enough sense not to say about thing more. Enough sense to feel guilty about this all and finally the reality all the more that everything thought and said so far was so truthful that he ought to be numb to it all. To feel comfort in knowing there seemed to be one decent thing he did regularly and it was the means of making it far worse for her.
It was a wise choice in his addled state to just stay quiet. To be ever the compliant, bloodied Ghost. Knowing that an apology at this point was as wasteful as giving a fish air.
What he could do was use the means of the constant uselessness and reminding state of being more of a dead weight to lay on his thoughts to keep him awake. Though he wouldn’t lie to himself and think that it would’ve been advantageous for Araminta to just drop him as dead weight and flee safely. A good private portion would have preferred it.
Hearing her threatening Ry’seth for a way out was at least a quick reply. Moving forcibly onwards to where stairs moved upwards once more and he could practically feel the moment on his shoulders. Retrieving arm away and politely motioned forward. Pushing shoulder against the stairway wall to indicate he would not burden further. Preferring not to rely any further on her over extended generosity. Making an added point to show with a step upwards that he was going to listen to her.
Not about to shirk the promise made or give another reason for her to add to a potential list of reasons to start loathing instead.
At least he could maybe fit the motif of undead with the statement he put himself into. That could be a distraction certainly. “How m…much time till…” Theon paused at the taste of iron on the back of his tongue. Compressing a sticky swallow to speak further, “Others app… appear?” The question directed to the skull in the bag.
The absolute look of displeasure she gave when he insisted to pull away and attempt to mount the steps himself might’ve wilted an entire forest of trees. Only, just as quickly to vanish because it’d be far mor dangerous for him if she were to pull him upwards and he lost balance to tumble backwards down he stairs. So Araminta took up residence behind him, just as willful to ignore his attempts at sending her onwards without him, to give supporting push at his back.
Who is to know where they are elsewhere in the place, it could be minutes, it could be longer! They’ll come following the call and no doubt find this sharp-tongued wenches blood as well as your own. You may as well leave a trail of breadcrumbs!
Araminta glanced down at her bleeding arm, biting into her lip knowing Theon too was coughing up blood from his use of magic. Still, she pressed him onwards, eventually coming up under the arm that wasn’t directly leaning against the stairwell wall, as a steady reminder that if he fell, he was going to be taking her with him.
By the time they reached the top even Araminta was huffing and puffing.
This wasn’t going to work. Not with Theon in this state.
“Wait here,” she instructed, leaving Theon leaning against a wall in a long hallway before quickly dashing down it. Pushing open doors to check within the rooms before finding one that felt suitable enough. When she returned, it was back to being under his arm, practically kidnapping the man down that hall to the room she’d scoped out.
She ushered Theon over to a bed that looked solid enough in the frame, even if the mattress let off a ploof of dust when she urged him to sit. Araminta vanished again out the door, looking upwards and down the hall until she spotted just the right thing. A big threadbare tapestry hanging between the soft glowing scones. With a few hops and a snatch she drug it off the wall and brought it to the meager door. Stringing it up anew, only this time to mask that there was a doorway there at all.
Done with that, she skittered back into the now hopefully hidden room. Clasping her hands together and pressing them to her mouth as she tried to think, think, think. Theon was not injured beyond the manna sickness, so as long as he didn’t cough up any more blood he could go undetected.
Herself… even if she wrapped her wound, Araminta had a feeling that massive demon loose in the old mausoleum would track her down. She was demon marked. Araminta would always be found.
…Theon was going to be so furious with her.
“You’re going to be safe here,” she mentioned gently, shifting now to take that blasted undead skull out of her pack to search for something clean enough to wipe the blood from Theon’s face. To fetch a little water too, beckoning him to drink it. “All you need to do is lay down and take a nap. They won’t be looking for you.”
“Do not r-refer to Araminta as such.” The low foreboding growl was certainly enough to indicate that he was well beyond the point of being docilely quiet in regards to such commentary aimed towards the woman. But Ry’seth appeared to be a very hard learner anyways, so at this point should he be surprised that the skull really wanted to see just how long one of them had patience before arranging his last bit of body into pieces?
Granted he didn’t have much energy to do something anyways. A bit too busy trying to adhere to the fact that he had made said former promise to Araminta and she was making it abundantly clear he was not to shirk, falter or flake on it by any means.
With her shortly making sure to physical push under the arm once more and soundlessly making it known that if he tumbled, it was going to harm her too. Adding a new weight on top of the one that was already present. Certainly making itself known by the time they had reached the upper most of the stairwell and they were in a state less than fit.
The statement that he was to wait was hardly feuded. Although he didn’t much care for the idea of her going off, he wasn’t the sort that argued with her. As they were well enough aware of.
It seemed that when she came back, he was ushered along and there was a whirlwind of motion that had them pushed into a room. His butt on a mattress and left to be simultaneously keeping himself conscious while being confused to what Araminta was doing at all. With her zipping back out into the hallway and returning after with something that blocked the door. Doubtful even on a good day he might be able to figure out what she was doing outside of trying to give a moment of reprieve.
Nothing though was about to prepare him for the fact that when she came closer to start digging around in her pack, her voice spoke. You’re. Not we.
She might as well have slapped him at that point because for certain, it would’ve hurt less!
While he knew he had overdone it because well… he didn’t want her to be harmed by that lich. In any capacity and the fact that he was incredibly limited in his use of magic was painfully obvious; the silent mental reality that he already knew the burden that he presented, it was quite different having it vocalized.
He was slowing her down and causing grief. Making this harder than it needed to be and he damn well knew it. Just, he really had been so insufferably slow and moronic not to see it sooner that she was attempting to be nice while moving to remove herself from being laden further with his very existence!
Lay down. Take a nap. They won’t look for him.
Nothing.
Theon turned his face away from her. Refusing the means to drink or to even allow any sort of further feeble coddling. He damn well knew better than to have gotten close to anything, even out of desperation or whatever the hell it had been. It was just a problem for others and he knew it. “J-just go.” Muttering low and retracting safely into that of his own self, it was far better than prolonging any of this.
Foolish he was to think they were equals, a team. That it was alright to try hard to adhere and comply with every ask. Simply wanting to keep someone else safe because for a moment in time, it felt valid. He’d rather not entertain a moment more of this! If this was how one was abandoned then so be it, he wasn’t about to waste words or pleas. She had things to do after all and right now, he was of no help.
Surprise first crossed her face when he refused the water, refused to even look at her! Slowly melting to a concerned and frustrated frown, as her immediate natural instinct was to fix this. To throw her arms around him, stroke his hair, and use an entire library’s worth of words to remind him just how important he was to her and that everything was going to be okay. Araminta hadn’t failed to hear those vicious words of the lich, and Theon always took her care so seriously that he considered every scuffle that went off the rails a personal failure of his own.
This was one of those moments where she’d completely ignore his pleas about attempting to soothe him, but there simply wasn’t the time. Right now it was more important to keep him safe.
“You need to rest for as long as is necessary. Sleep if you can, Ry’seth will keep watch–“
What?! I am not some–
“You WILL keep watch and wake Theon if something draws near,” that was a familiar tone. A true royal in command. As she spoke, she bustled around the room, invader proofing as it were. Pulling extra chairs over to the door and other clattering things as a way to fool-proof should the chattery skull fail in his duties. Leaving just enough room for her to be able to squeeze through.
“When you wake, if I am not here with you, then you are to leave this place. Ry’seth will guide you out and you are to go to the graveyard.”
Araminta whisked off her cloak, faerie pin and all to drape and pin snuggly around Theon. Between the magical chill from the lich and his own manna sickness, she was surprised he wasn’t sitting there shivering and chattering his own teeth. She was quick then to set aside her bag, leaving out the water for Theon to hopefully drink when he was ready. Confiscating a small wrapped bit of food to shove in her pocket, but choosing to leave behind all of their things and gear with Theon.
One could not be a wild goose for a chase while carrying so much.
“I will meet you there, but if I do not show…” she paused there, taking a deep breath. “If I do not show, then you are allowed to come look for me only when you are fully rested. Only when you are rested, okay?”
Whatever the hell it was that she was planning, honestly? Honestly, he was not interested. The entire idea that they had or was some convoluted idea of this false narrative of being some sort of team, was enough. If the tables were turned, he would have known that the chewing out of a lifetime would have been his to have. That whatever was now in motion, had it come from him, she would have fought and verbalized it in any scathing statement possible. Save the tables weren’t turned and they both knew he was not the one that would verbalize against that of her thoughts. Her decisions.
But what he could do in all this was wait.
The lich had pronounced quite heavily that the fae-daughter was of use so he suspected she was going to use that to her advantage. As one would. Whatever her blood had was of importance. The wound on her arm was enough for her to take it and go and he mentally resigned once more to the former knowledge of that nothing statement.
Just keeping at least attentive enough to listen but ultimately he was not about to be placated into another false charm of something. The result right now as glaring. There was no use in him. Slowing her down and honestly, he was a little more than personally sick of being just that. An unnecessary weight.
“Here you stand. Hollow. Empty. How does it feel, Blood of Heirra, to know that you are nothing. What a special kind of hell to live being a fae without wings. A fae without heart, without soul. Without the magic that makes you whole.”
A sort of foolish idiot that had gotten a glimmer of hope and a firm reminder here and now that even with the limited expense of what he could do, it was nothing. Nothing!
She was telling him what to do. Ry’seth what to do. In such a tone that it was enough to stop the skull from feuding further. For now and eventually, she shed away items that he suspected were just a ruse so she wouldn’t have to nitpick about the items further.
“Yes.” A single word was enough of an acknowledgement to express he had heard his list of new orders issued.
Rest. Then leave.
Seemed better than he probably deserved but he wasn’t about to spark up a conversation to disagree or mantle on some eagerness to willing to do everything more at her command.
Dragging thumb over the corner of mouth to clear away the copper, Theon nodded twice. Then glanced to the door she had mostly barricaded. Then to the floor and folded that of hands in polite waiting.
He wasn’t listening. He was in such a state of shock that he’d retreated within himself again, and Araminta could weather through it, she really could. Only they were not somewhere safe enough to allow her that time to give him gentle reassurances mixed with her usual fussing. There was no time to argue and bicker until he’d finally realized that she wasn’t so easily severed from him, or that he was so worn out he’d give in just so she’d stop talking at him.
He didn’t have to understand, Araminta would protect him anyway.
“Stay safe, please,” she muttered, taking one last moment to twist her hair up into a messy knot and pin it tightly back into place with the pretty leaf he’d given her. A truly handy gift, so she was going to do a lot of running! “Try to eat as well, you’ll feel better.”
Araminta hesitated then, pondering a quick kiss or a soft touch… only he never seemed to trust her dramatic motions of affection during these moments, so it was better left as it was. Taking another steeling breath before she squeeze and wriggled herself past the arranged barricade of furniture to slip out the door. Taking a few extra moments in the hall to make sure there weren’t any stand out signs that they’d been there at all.
Then she full on ran back the way they came, with every intention to be sure those looking for them had all kinds of wild and confusing trails to follow.
Ry’seth Ael Brydove, undead skull, former Keeper of Tomes and man of many titles, found himself sitting on a bedside table glancing at the door. At the man sitting on the bed. At the door again.
…well this is awkward.
If there was ever an intrusion of strange fate, surely the very thing would have them all on a first name basis by now.
He’d only consider the place that she had slipped through a moment or more after the form had disappeared. Lingering in that stale silence before forcibly moving feet to gather themselves back up. Plucking away that of the faerie pin and cloak to fold and place beside that of the bag left behind. Equally doing the same with tumbled fingers to pull away the gift that had been a cloak pin as well. Giving it a moment to look at before repeating the action former. Folding up the cloak he had worn and placing the pin on top. By the bag, feeling the biting nip once more of the cold world and the pulsating throbs articulating itself through the entirety of form. Using it now as a motive to keep moving.
Tidying up the variety of items to pack up whatever had been pulled out before turning his gaze onto that of Ry’seth. A dark sort of stare, “Your final resting place… direct me to it. Then it will be done.” Theon stated quietly.
Of course, if he was about to make some dramatic statement that he was not about to be tied once more to a motion or command, the very castle itself violently. Enough that the ceiling above them began to rain dust before hands rose to clamp down on ears due to the volume of something colossal bellowing out a grand deafening roar. Turning into a steady thrum of great vibrating gnarling as somewhere, it sounded as though something of the very castle had fallen off itself! Banging down with a grand bang!
Ry’seth the elven skull did the only thing he could do – watched with those burning orbs standing in for eyes as the child of Heirra – the man-sized prince or whatever he was, removed those layers of warmth to pass aside. Watched as he packed up everything the woman had set out for him, and was cleaning meaning to do the exact opposite of what she’d instructed him to do.
Well, he couldn’t blame him. Who wanted to get bossed around by such a tiny woman. There wasn’t much impressive about her anyway, except for maybe the tenacity. Still, not his type. He liked them broodingly dark and dangerous.
…of course he wasn’t about to test her mettle, either. Those threats of hers sounded real!
We are supposed to stay here and rest, replied Ry’seth. If a skull could seem imperious, he sure did. You might want your skull crushed, but I sure don’t! She was not wrong about the safety here. They’ll be too busy pulling all he organs out to be bother with u–
The colossally loud boom cut him — so much for the grand and amazing advice he was about to give this wayward prince! Whatever THAT was, it would be nothing they wanted to face!
…yeup! We’re going to stay right here.
As for Araminta… Being small, quiet, and sneaky was a skill well developed. Not about to run loose and reckless through-out the buried castle ruins or up in the old castle above without a good plan in mind. A simple plan as well! If the cultists were till searching, and a demon still loose sniffing and hunting like a hound, then her own blood was a very good useful tool. Once she’d backtracked enough down the stairs to sneak her way into the lich’s main chamber, she’d began setting her trails. A flick of blood here, and handprint through dust there. Then skittered off through a different doorway in the opposite direction of where Theon was meant to be resting safely.
Then when something so violently loud and shaking had knocked her off her own feet, and had well enough shaken the very foundations of the place, she glanced up at the ceiling with wary expectation. Only able to assume that it must be that demon, now tearing his way through the place already on her trail.
She’d have to lead them upwards and outside, else the whole place might come down!
There was little inside him left that was able to do much of anything at this point and Ry’seth had made such a stink about returning back to his place of rest, but now he was being all high and mighty. Again. Levelling an empty look at the skull that was getting into the launching theatrics about staying put. Skulls being smashed and blah blah. At this point, he was pretty sure throwing up blood and over exerting himself to the point of nudging manna sickness was far less painful than just being cleverly told he was a waste of space and had to be put in a room to stay out of the way.
Just that something massive had decided to declare its presence with a ear breaking bellow and the very damn place given a shake that probably knocked more dust and mice out of its cracks than ever before. While potentially demolishing the very place, and Theon was left a moment just trying to boggle through his thoughts.
Not even sure what the hell would have been that big that it would have done so much, but it was clearly out there. Once more announcing a loud guttural roar into the world, before the damn place was shuddering with what sounded to be massive steps. Then a scraping sound of something dragging across stone.
“Then stay.” Theon managed one his feet felt like they were as stable as they could be. Checking sword at his waist –not even sure when he had put it back- before glancing at the skull. Then the stuff and begun to move the stuff out of the way that had been packed in front of the door. He was done being hidden away like some bastard child and he was not about to continue it a moment further. There was enough trauma and phobia’s linked to all of it, another did not need to be added.
Whatever the hell was out there though, it was clearly moving around. Where castle shuddered with the intrusion of something massive shoving itself through a window that was once a reasonable size. Yarding back clawed talon to dig out whatever had been unfortunate to be caught in the motion, leaning a eye down to inspect with little hope.
Flaring nostrils with a gout of black smoke, as serpentine body began to move along the damnable place. It was true timing that the red scaled flying leviathan had appeared at the time there were other’s of the living sort present. Of course, the beast’s appearance was just to dig around in old family ruins for anything, something and hopefully be rewarded with an item or just disrupt plans of a wicked bitch.
Wait, wait, wait! shouted Ry’seth, trying his damndest to bounce and hop on the bedside table. Not doing much else that vibrating his chattering teeth. At least take me with you and all the girl’s gear! This is my first job in centuries!
Wasn’t much of a job, and surely not using his immense and fantastic talents of endless knowledge, but it was sure better than being stuck down here alone for another few centuries. Besides, only a fool wouldn’t realize the amount of importance that woman had placed upon this lumbering stone-faced man. Ry’seth was not about to earn the ire of any more women!
That woman in question likely would’ve been all sorts of furious to know her instructions weren’t even being attempted at all. Araminta was already preoccupied however with this new roaring curiosity that was making walking through the old halls increasingly difficult. Especially when she was trying to avoid robed forms spotting her skittering around corners while she had them roaming in circles.
That demon with the horns had been ginormous, but this was starting to feel so much larger. Griping her heart into a icy squeeze of fear that now something more had been unleashed. Another demon hoard now summoned to run murderous through the Imperial Kingdom? Had her gut feeling about the lich vanishing too quickly been right on the mark?
Could lichs grow to such a size? How horrible!
Araminta had managed to wind her way through enough random halls and staircases to find another crumbled space leading to a narrow stretch of secret passages. Any royal child that had a great deal of curiosity knew such things existed in castles. Usually found by accident or by simple snooping through things they ought not to be touching. Having just enough luck herself (at least for the time being) she followed that passage to it’s end, being led from the beautiful work of the ancient ruins to the modern dark black stone of the Imperial Queen’s ancestral home.
The passage came out in a great library, where shelves upon shelves upon shelves of books still stood, though now dusty with time. This sort of place would be a wonderful journey of exploration had she had time to do so. Itching to reach out and take a peek at a book or two until running footsteps alerted her to likely pursuers.
In a panic she jumped up onto one of the shelves, climbing up all the way to the very top, where she flattened herself out and tried to be as invisible as possible. Hoping that no one was going to think to look up.
The hollow stare that came back to look at the skull when he was suddenly changing his mind about being taken with, it would have helped if he had a sense of humour. Finding it funny how swift this living skull could flip back and forth between things that suited him and what didn’t. Alas, there was no ha-ha or giggling. Just a blank observation that promptly returned to that of pulling the barricade down seeing as he couldn’t slip through the little spot that had been made for Araminta.
Allowing his mind to wonder just what the hell was going on beyond the doors, beyond the walls. Distantly hearing something large falling off once more but the guttural growling had yet to cease entirely.
It took a few seconds to finally find a suitable place pull the walls down, somewhere flatly amusing at the state of the old castle being reduced further to its fitting rubble. It should have fallen eons ago rather than becoming a house of dead and worshippers, but truly he wasn’t remotely surprised about that. Cockroaches and vermin of all sorts liked to find places of any sort of calibre to crawl into. Why not the old castle of where the greatest vile thing had ever been born? Suitable was it not?
Ah! There…
With a great push, did the top of the roof ever so helpfully topple off to the side. Crashing down with rubble rushing through the side. Clearing away and rising plumes of dust, thin eyes tilted sideways with a crocodile grin pulling across the lengthy features. Giving tongue a click to spark against back of throat with a deep inhale. Pulling oxygen to ignite the fuel of. Releasing a great gout of flame to sear through the approaching pests in their cultist attire. Strengthening that of grip upon the old black stone whilst leathery appendages opened wide to add air to the flame. Letting it grow larger with a delighted snicker exited that of sharpened snout. “Be gone, gnats. I have little time to play with such things.” Rumbling between the clicking growling; gaze tilted back once. Raising the end of tail to swing around and swipe through the flame and bodies to swat them off their attempt to approach. Further breaking down the old ruins.
He was certain there was something here that could be useful for the eventual reclaiming of throne but he’d have to find it of course. Little did he know that there was others present that were… not of the cultist variety.
Araminta found out very quickly she was no longer the biggest concern of the Black Wyvern cultists.
Every roar, every shake of foundation had the black castle vibrating as if there was a full earthquake going on deep within the earth. Only instead the entire place was under siege by something truly large and fearsome, even more so than the giant horned demon. Her hiding spot had been a good one to avoid small mortal peoples, but when the very wood beams and stone ceiling started crumbling and collapsing down, there was no masking her own startled yelps and shrieks while trying to avoid being crushed by rock and falling pieces of ancient shelving and furniture.
When the dust had settled enough where she was no longer blinded, she crawled and coughed and stumbled out from under a row of the decimated library shelving. Good thing too because now there were fires breaking out all over the place, of which she could not be certain was cultist caused or otherwise.
At least until she heard that booming voice.
This should have been a moment to flee and run. The cultists that weren’t becoming crispy fried mortal nuggets were surely running for their lives. Only… Theon was down below in the buried ruins. Araminta needed to know what the danger was – if she needed to steer it away from tearing the whole place down, or if it was better to flee and attempt to get Theon away.
She ran, scrabbled, and crawled over rubble. Even passed by those who were fleeing and no longer cared about some trespassing girl in the wake of a bigger danger. Araminta dashed out into an open courtyard where she skidded to a stop and nearly swallowed her own tongue.
A demon of some fashion was what she expected. Ruthless and uncontrollable. But this? This was a real and living dragon! Where eons ago her mountain home may have been home to such creatures, no one really believed that dragons still existed in the world. Even with the Imperial Queen making her tenth trial that of acquiring a dragon’s scale, Araminta thought she’d be scouring old ruins somewhere hoping to dig one up from something long deceased.
What an absolutely beautiful and terrifying thing.
…now how did one politely ask a dragon for a scale?
Before she could even ponder that further a new crashing cascade of stone burst into the open courtyard. Rising, rising, rising up to his full straightened height, with horns of twisted onyx black and skin as red and shiny as blood. That hooved demon let out a cheering roar of his own, seeming to thrive in this chaos and destruction. Not caring a whit that his own cult of companions were getting slaughtered, merely loving the blood bath for what it was.
He reached out a claw.
“MORGARTH HAS FOUND YOU MOUSE!” he bellowed with a hefty laugh.
Damn it all, where was a bag of geese when Araminta needed it!
They were truly worse than fleas. Annoying, irritating little pests that were better used as mulch for a garden than anything constructive. Although they made great kindling when they went up in flames from their robes. Flaring to life like little moving candles that promptly stopped doing the moving thing. Collapsing over to be eventually turned to mere charred ashes, his own attention had swiveled back to the task of razing this place.
It had made sense after he figured out that this had become one of the famed trial areas. Of course the old war donkey would do this, she always did have to have things about herself one way or another. Taking the narcissist flare to a whole new level. Granted, would he expect any less from Heirra? Probably not.
After the years spent managing to get away from her demented clutches and the fact he had sought ways silently, secretly to start finding methods in which to roost her oversized potato ass from a throne that she had inhabited far too long; he had found here.
A direct line to her past and well, a fine place to hide things that most would not look for due to the undead. Things that didn’t bother him considering as of right now, he was truly the biggest thing here. With little cultists being pests and, apparently something else yelling loudly about itself. Earning the turn of head upon the spindle neck to focus gaze down upon it. And huffed out a puff of smoke.
Digging claws into the stony hide of the once upon a time castle, parts expectantly crumpled under the extreme weight. Unbothered about it as one moved to adjust posture to bring curled fingers up, and nose down to present features close to the bellowing boil. “Morgarth is clearly a subpar demon if he is announcing his existence!” The dragon curled corners of leathery lips. Flicking the taloned fingers to quite literally flick the demon as though it was some god damn mosquito having made itself known. “Be out of my sight!” Growling the words, head lunged forward only once the demon seemed to have been successfully lobbed up into the air. To be grabbed and tossed back and forth akin to a dog playing with a new toy.
Throwing head this way and that with the momentum happily separating that of pestering self apart so one could spit no sooner out the parts. Grimacing at the taste, “Blasted tainted piss stain,” Tongue rolled over teeth with vain use of removing taste, only that it seemed in those moments that his attention had caught another one apparently still lingering.
Turning head suddenly to be staring at the dark crowned woman and narrowed sights upon her. She wore no cultist attire and didn’t appear to be demon either. “Can I help you?”
“I AM THE MOST POWEH- AAAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!”
That sentence was cut short faster than Araminta could even blink. Impressed at first that a flick could send a demon of such a huge size flying so high into the air. What she wasn’t prepared for was the bloody shaking and terrible gore of the demon getting ripped to pieces. Squawking out her horror at the sight and throwing her arms over her head to shield her vision from any more of the grisly view.
She could even heard the leaded thump of the demon’s parts hitting the ground far too close for her tastes. Araminta had no liking for demons, but she didn’t feel one needed to be torn to pieces either!
Oh no. She should have ran! That booming voice had taken notice of her, and with all the prim and properness of a princess did she lower her arms and tried her best not to look completely terrified.
“Could you… Could you please stop destroying this castle?” she dared to call up. If it could speak, surely it could be reasoned with as well! Even if all she had to offer in the moment was a bit of cheese and sausage. That didn’t seem too satisfying for something as large as this. “My- Someone important to me is deep down below and I would like him to be able to get out safely?”
Surreptitiously Araminta was already glancing around for somewhere to dash, just in case she was about to meet a fiery end of her own.
That taste was going to be in his mouth for days. Saturating every tastebud till he either found something to wash it away or chewed off his own tongue. Certain that since demon’s could not die, they made sure they were foul from the inside out. Leaving a horrid lingering in mouth while vision found a young dot of a thing present. Thankfully without any raised torches or some pompous attitude that was supposed to be opposing.
Yet, she wasn’t exactly turning to go away either. Leaving them a moment of little more than dull blinking and well, his head coming down to bring her to his eye level. “What matters of this shithole? It’s nothing more than a glorified chamberpot that Heirra unfortunately spawned from. I’m merely doing a service.” He offered back at her, narrowing the bright reddish brown eye at her. “I would think if you are not a cultist or a undead or a demon, you’d be cheering on the disposal of such a place.”
Nose turned towards her a moment.
Scraping claws with intention of drawing the rest of his form closer. Buckling further the weaker zones of the black castle. “Wait, you said deep down below. There is more to this god awful hole then!” Surprise popped into his voice and hadn’t even thought about there being more than surface value.
Humming low in throat before form seemed to waver away into a black plume of oily smoke. Tapering down from a colossal beast to reform into a man. Brushing off his lapel front with a the same sort of grace that one had pushing away that of stray lint. An air about him was leaning towards high and mighty but his features formed into a easy smile. “Well come now, girl. Show me this lower portion, I have business to attend to and this solves both of our problems. I stop destroying ol’ mam’s spawning ground for you and I get to investigate deeper. And well, we’ll just call the portion of cultists leaving you alone a bonus. Perks of being dragon born.”
Araminta did not know where her sense had gone. When that massive head lowered down and down, that should’ve been her moment to scurry off like the very mouse that demon had called her. This dragon was surely going to make a snack of her, and she’d barely even be a single mouthful! Swallowed up in an instant.
What irony to be bitten by a stone dragon and now to be seeing a living one literally face to face.
Yet, instead of one mighty chomp to end her very existence, this dragon seemed to be confused on why he could not destroy this wicked castle. No love or even a liking for the Imperial Queen, igniting a swift and burning ember of hope. If dragonkind too had no desire to deal with the evil queen, then it would be perfectly easy to make herself a new friend with a common enemy.
And he seemed to be very interesting in knowing about the hidden ruins beneath this derelict place.
Consumed with surprise and intrigue, she watched as the mighty beast wisped away into a smoke of twisting black and shrank away into… into a man! It was almost criminal how ridiculously handsome he was. Dressed so fine and groomed just so, he was the sort of handsome that’d have any woman swooning just for a look at him.
Of course all Araminta had to say was, “I didn’t know dragons could shift their form!” All bewildered awe, already taking a side step to help… only as she thought to glance around again, well. He’d done so much damage already, it was going to be tricky finding another way back down. Another few steps and Araminta paused altogether, turning back to face him then with a squint and a new sort of examining investigation.
“Ol mam… Heirra is your mother,” she responded slowly. Then Theon was not the last one living… and that was a bit of a problem if this one was of the violent, kill all of your sibling sorts! He’d mentioned one that he liked, one that had set her into confusion of wondering how a woman even had a dragon child. Still that did not mean it was safe to bring him near Theon.
“You want to cause grief for her, but what other intentions do you have? I will not take you down below if you’re going to be trouble.”
It hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be an entire other world below the depths and such good fortune it was to have this little strawberry morsel offering up information likely she didn’t mean too. Well, he could always demo this site after if he found absolutely nothing. Just make sure it really met the critique of ruins and hopefully less undead at that time. Or more, depending on who got in the way under the ick that was this place’s magical curse. The purple hues were really quite overdone with the plagued creatures and stuff. But, he was convinced that Heirra had cursed this place to be what it was.
Probably because she was born. Seemed valid enough for some greater god to curse these lands!
Just it would do him no favour to be of largest size to go beneath the ruins. Shifting over so he could sort himself into a fashionable appearance and landed the gaze upon the little sproutling of a girl. “Dragon born, love. Not dragon. Use your imagination.” He offered her with a grin unbothered if she needed it explained, “But yes, red dragons can shift their forms. I mean it would be pretty… well awkward to do the horizontal dance if one person was a massive draconic beast and the other was… not.” Lips smirked further at that amusement but clapped his hands in jovial use.
Just that she apparently seemed to find interest in his commentary. “Unfortunately. But she was quite the whore. Woman could put whorehouses out of business with how busy her legs were being open.” Brows lifted and he shook his head. There had been so many siblings and for what? Her need to use them as little generators. Yeah, he wasn’t a fan of her.
However this little spicy miss decided that now that he wasn’t something big and red and scary, she was guna get sassy with him. “Love, you told me there’s a deep down deep dark. I will be going down there one way or another. It can either be the nice way where we are buddies and you aren’t a pretty little wick, or well, you become that and I storm my way down there. Heirra is a plague upon this damn earth and I am plenty busy trying to think of ways to end her long, long, looooong over due existence from this world.” He gave her a look then as he processed her question a bit more.
“You said you had someone below. You left them… below. In a place that is rife with undead and necromantic magic that is known for turning people into undead slaves and such and you are asking me about my intentions. Maybe I ought to be questioning yours more now?”
Arms opened once then clapped, “Come along love, let’s help each other. And maybe save the poor fool that was left behind to be a fodder sandwich for whatever haunts this place.” Giving a motion to suggest they were to find a way down now, “I am sure you have a name too, unless you want me to keep addressing you as love. You also may call me, Talon.”
Araminta went red in the face with how cavalier he was about the lascivious actions in a way that was bordering on crude. Thankfully she had no sympathy for his wicked mother, but still… there were things one didn’t just blurt out so casually! Nor did it help that he was quick to suggest she’d be the next burning body here if she didn’t cooperate in a friendly manner.
Not something she wanted to test, but until Araminta knew whether or not he could actually be trusted, there was no way she’d allow him near Theon.
“I am Araminta,” she answered, already looking him up and down and pondering just how she was going to deal with a dragon, man shaped or not. “And I am no friend of Heirra’s, so it would not bother me a bit if you wish to cause mayhem for her. In fact I whole heartedly encourage it. Only, the one down below is precious and I have no reason to believe or trust you, or to let you go any farther.”
“…and I did not leave him down there to be in danger I left him where he would be safe so I could lead these wicked things away from him while he is too tired to defend himself! You will have to forgive me if I am not keen on taking an entire dragon down there to have an easy meal. In fact, I would appreciate if you stayed right here so that I might fetch him myself. Else I’ll… I’ll roll up my sleeves and fight you right now.”
“Araminta,” he repeated. Paused and tapped a finger to his chin. He’d heard that name before but…. Where? Giving her an up and down no sooner. Yes, he heard that name somewhere and it was more of late. Like a few months newly but you know, recent. Just he couldn’t place it. Naturally he had been plenty busy and being here and there and over there. Things tended to be muddled up in his thoughts as either freshly remembered or forgotten till the right eureka moment. Which was not now.
Just that this little thing was talking at him about how she did not care or hold love for the bitch queen. A feeling that was very much shared amongst many, just that she was being awfully protective of whatever or rather whomever was down beneath. “You left him tired, in a place full of cultist, demons, undead and who the hell else knows. If he was smart, he would have left on his own. This isn’t the sort of place that is entirely mapped out. And undead tend to gravitate to things that breath eventually. It sounds as though you had good intentions but a bad practice.”
Talon shrugged at her and scoffed at her no sooner when she suggested she was going to fight him.
Where he stepped closer and narrowed his eyes at her. “Araminta, you’re spirit is radiant. Your tenacity,” kissing his fingers in a dramatic display, “Fantastic but could you really need to work on whom is going to be your foe.” Eyes flashed at her in a threat now. “If you’re worried I am going to steal your man, please don’t. Now, would you be a good sport and show me the way or I will start smashing shit again and if things start squishing others well,” he soundlessly made it clear it was going to be her own fault.
“If I haven’t harmed you, yet, still up for debate because you are being cute and fucking annoying; I assume you are worried about whomever is below.” A finger pointed forward, “Either we be honest with each other now or well, the other option is still available.” Clicking tongue to give a visual spark that he was very capable of lighting shit on fire even as a human man.
For a moment, his criticisms of her actions did manage to sink down into her thoughts, giving her a long moment of pause and consideration. A second guessing if she’d made a terrible mistake in leaving Theon alone with naught but a mouthy skull to be his guardian. He was exhausted physically, no doubt wounded mentally both by that blasted lich and through misunderstanding her actions…
No. It was the best choice in the moment. Her plan would have worked well enough to give Theon the chance to recuperate. She might not have been alright, but Theon would’ve had the time to rest up enough until he could defend himself once again.
How was she supposed to know his dragon half brother would come tearing the entire castle down on top of them!
“…I have survived more terrible things than you,” she warned him. Oh, it didn’t hide her worry about him or her fear. Araminta had no need to hide the fact she was scared! Only she was not going to be bullied or intimidated into doing as he asked simply because he was a big scary dragon on a mission. Not if he could still be a risk to Theon.
Especially one that could make threats when she was trying to be perfectly reasonable!
“You’ve not given me any reasons to trust you, so I think that–” she cut herself off, eyes going blinking wide as she glanced at something far over his shoulder. “Morgarth!!”
The startled name of that chomped on demon was quick, and when he dared to look over his shoulder Araminta took off running! Darting for the nearest doorway out of the courtyard she could see that wasn’t blocked by rubble or fire.
“Well if you’re here then I would agree with you.” Talon shrugged seemingly unbothered by being compared to something else that was scarier than him. Truthfully, he wasn’t that scary. Actually, he was a sweetheart but he was just busy with trying to find something that would take the old boot out of her grand castle or off her throne. After all, he had a good fighting chance against her now that his heart was back where it was supposed to be and well, she did do it with a dragon. He was a bit magic resistant after all.
But this little cheeky potato was being stubborn about the most asinine things. It was starting to feel like there was likely no one down below and she was just trying to keep him distracted. So maybe she was one of his mother’s followers, which was a problem then. Because then that meant he would have to make her into a blood splatter.
“I would think me not immediately killing you is valid of a reason for trust! And the fact that I’m being unbelievably nice ri—Who?” Already he had forgotten who Morgarth was. Turning to look over his shoulder as if expecting someone to be there only to sigh at his own reality of being bamboozled. Slowly turning back to see this little girl running off, “And I did kinda like her.” Sighing so heavily like this had become the greatest burden, Talon rolled tongue across his teeth.
“Ara… Araminta!” He snapped his fingers with a figurative candle wick coming to life. Only that his features tilted and then a sort of new realization dawned. Where he heard the name. The mountain princess that had come to the Imperial Queen’s court a while back to take on the trials and had caused quite a lot of commotion. The same one that had sent out letters to other courts and, his gaze went to his feet. To the stone beneath his feet.
Thinking about it, before, “Wait! Araminta!” Talon called before stupidly legging it after her. As if he couldn’t just turn back into a dragon and grab her or something! But his tone had changed, it was suddenly properly interested. “Come back here! Don’t run away from me! I’m made for beauty not for running!”
“You are made for mischief!” shouted Araminta back, right before skidding through a doorway and slamming said door right in his face.
Not about to even stop there, she kept on running! Though this time navigating through the black stone castle was a lot more difficult with the damages he had inflicted. Where there should’ve been halls, there were blocks of crumbled stones. Walls with nice glass paned windows had disappeared entirely to open up to the land. Fire had already spread from it’s original blasted locations, following any furniture or wooden beams it could catch to continue eating away at the structure.
Sometimes she’d catch sight of a bloody handprint or smear that she knew was intentionally set there by her own self, giving her a refreshed hint of just which direction to turn next. Thankfully the place was devoid of any more cultists – too human or too weak to want to try their hand at facing a full sized dragon, especially when their demon guard had been ripped to pieces so easily.
Taking a sharp turn down a hall seeking those passages that’d led her back up to the castle proper, she found that hall suddenly dropping in temperature. At first thinking it was only one of those floating spirits still trapped here aimlessly wandering, instead it was that lich. Leathery jowls open up to shriek such a satisfied scream as it rushed forwards towards her.
Having not but a split second thought of I knew it, before trying to skid to a stop, only to find herself sliding on ice to land on her rear. Giving a startled scream when the lich rushed right through her as her body kept sliding until it went right over the edge of broken shattered stone. Landing hard on a pile of rocks before rolling to a stop. Knocked out cold while the lich above continued his shriek of victory.
Araminta had landed in a new chamber, another old and hidden place in the buried castle proper. The very lair of the lich.
Nearly colliding with that of the door that had been so very unkindly shoved into his face, Talon smacked his palms into it. “Damn it Araminta!” Shortly pulling open the door but she was already well on the way to moving on. And he was now newly distracted with the fact that this woman had been attempting the trials. Not only that, but the rumour was that she had the prince with her.
The last remaining prince. Honestly, he hadn’t entirely bought into that statement because really, would Heirra let her last little generator go so easily. Well, maybe not easily but there was likely some ploy behind it. But having the wayward princess here and then how she made comments about a male companion below, he couldn’t just not ask about it.
“Araminta!” Talon bellowed loudly as he looked through the damnable fortress with a curse. “It’s always the pretty ones that are dumber than a bag of rocks.” Muttering disdaining commentary about the foolishness of people. In particular, her. However, she did show him a way into the castle and he had a good idea that she wouldn’t run right to her companion. Rather she appeared dodgy enough that to follow after her was probably stupid.
So he looked around. Again. Smoothing lapel once more and began walking quickly through the place. Betting this place had once been half decent when long dead grandparents and aunts and uncles had been alive. Before mother dearest probably sacrificed them for her own desires. He wasn’t sure and honestly didn’t care. No one was safe from that bitch honestly.
It was unclear how far he had made it down when the sound of something screaming announced itself loudly through the broken place. Frowning at the idea. Probably the lich if he was going to guess. They were awfully noisy things for being so dead. And typically, he wouldn’t have given a single thought about it but he damn well needed that little woman to tell him if she was in fact traveling with his brother.
If it was Theon… was he alright?
It went against all his better judgement to go towards the noisy sounds of something having a gleeful time. However the reasons for it were justifiable, just one didn’t really like dealing with something that should have been well in the ground eons before. Especially if the thing wanted to keep itself concealed, maybe it shouldn’t be so fucking loud.
Just, turning a particular corner with a level of expectation of coming upon that of noisy whiny bitch, there was a sword brandished at him. Being glared at by a pair of eyes that for a moment truly looked like they may as well have been a second dagger to accompany the sword.
Arms lifted somewhat and paused. “Theo?” Brows lifted a moment then tensed. “Theo, it is you!” Talon could have giggled like a little schoolgirl, “You are a lot taller than I remember.” And head tilted to look at what was being carried in his hand, “I don’t remember you carrying around a skull.”
The sword remained pointed for a second but ultimately dropped. Not put back into its scabbard but the man turned without a word. “Theon, hello! Where are you going? Aren’t you going to say anything!?” Letting him approach behind to get a better look and a smell of something rather sticky and salty sweet. “Why are you bleeding? Theo? Theo! Say something!? I—What the hell is this!?” Suddenly getting a handful of skull.
Which apparently when he was stopping the skull from being shoved entirely into his grip, the redhead looked absolutely baffled. “You’re real.”
“What. Of course I’m real!” They stood there a moment before, “Did you think you were being visited by a ghost of the past, by the nine hells Theo. I’m as real as,” And the sword was aimed at him again. “Okay I know we haven’t seen each other for a long time but this is not how we greet each other.”
“Talongrath is dead.” There was a dark intent in that stare. No longer innocent. Or scared. But it wasn’t whole either, “And I do not have time to deal with those who would take the face of a sibling.”
“A face? No, Theo, it’s really me.” The sound of something shrieking declared their moment to be short, “Look, we can talk after. You have questions and you smell as if you’ve been rolling around in your own blood. But right now, there was this cheeky little woman by the name of Araminta that went running along—” The sword point got closer, “I would like it if you stopped doing that. I have no scales right now, but flesh. Supple, easily cut flesh, brother.”
“Lead.”
“Lead?”
“Lead.“
Nodding then, Talon put a finger to the edge of the sword, “Why don’t I lead. Maybe we can find her.”
Another one?! Damn that vile backstabbing whore! That beautiful seductress in red silk and golden crown!
Ry’seth was NOT having a good time. He thought the girl and her guardian a pair of nitwits, but at least the girl had been pleasant enough so long as he was helpful. This son of Heirra didn’t speak, didn’t converse, by all the gods, he was silent gargoyle with a hot temper. For when the long dead elf tried to fill the silences with his delightful banter and endless wealth of knowledge, there was the not-so-subtle threats to be rid of him.
He ended up sticking to a monotone voice of being help. A Blood. Blood. Handprint. Ghost. Trap. Blood. Blood. Cultist. on repeat until it landed them here.
Another child of Heirra. This one seemed more fun.
As I told HER, who was generous enough to ask for my advice and actually listen, a lich cannot be killed without destroying ALL of it’s phylacteries. Of course, she didn’t stay still long enough to listen to the WHYS. You might have stabbed the undead shithead, but all that does is make him reform near one of the pieces of his soul. A weak one would take ages to reform, this one… he is strong. That is why they can live for so long and why they are so hard to kill.
He was full of useful things if they’d only ask him and listen.
She is already dead. We might as well get out while the getting out is good! A good and noble sacrifice for the sake of the Blood Queen’s heir. They’ll write sonnets, I’m sure. Time to go. Bye-bye. Out of this place before we are next on the list.
“It talks.” Talon looked at the skull once more when it was spitting out commentary and his younger brother looked to be in no mood befitting any sort of jubilant reunion. This was a bit of a dour place to find another and honestly he had been personally absent for most of Theon’s informative years so he could understand why the once innocent youth was not so excited to see him. Or believe it was him. But the skull, “Ah, so you’ve met mother dearest. Well, won’t it do you some good to know that all her sired children are pretty much dead besides me and Theo here.” He grinned and said Theo didn’t even crack a hint of a smile.
What the hell had that twisted witch done. Well… he knew what she had done. Never mind.
It was apparent that Theon and Araminta were involved in some manner though the said sibling wasn’t about to show much it seemed. Granted, he had always been the sort of quietly lonely child. Hiding and staying away from others after being nearly murdered at the hands of their more crazed siblings. That was the only boon for him for being near some of the eldest of the gaggle of offspring and a dragon born. He was very hard to kill.
“Oh… oh.” Talon started when the skull was talking about how a lich couldn’t be killed without all its precious little jars of its former self being destroyed. Only that Theon had started to turn and shoved said skull into his hands.
“Ry’seth, speak well or speak not at all.” A tone suitable for this place of death spoke towards apparently the skull.
Moving to follow momentarily after siblings steps, so he could level off their steps –idly he gave the skull a few taps on its noggin. “I don’t think someone who is already dead ought to be so stressed about being dead dead, my friend. And yes, lich’s aren’t exactly easy to slay. But a good bit of fire will make them reconsider and that is one of my many talents.” Not even a laugh from the other one. Earning a look to consider him over and took note of the way his features were rather pale. Paired with the blood and the way he seemed to be in a silent state of discomfort, Talon chewed on his inner lip.
He had thought about the day he might reunite with the sibling. If they both stayed alive long enough to do so. It hadn’t really struck him that Theon might be as old as he was. Changed and certainly not the young boy that had at least known how to smile intermittently. “Araminta is then your lady love, brother?”
Theon didn’t say anything. “You know it makes it hard to have a conversation as we walk if you say nothing.” There was a silver eye aimed at him though and it may as well have been yelling for him to hush. The silent scolding was clear enough. Clearing throat, “Ry’seth then… with your advice then what says you to the current predicament? And remember, Theo said be nice. Oh uh, turn here.” He interjected to point down a hallway they were to walk into. “I wasn’t paying attention upon original meeting but the spicy little hen had a bloody smell to her as well. Not as strong as yourself but notable. Had I used my wits, I may have found her faster. Not to say running into you wasn’t a delight, Theo.”
Still nothing. “Tough crowd.”
Shoved here, shoved there, Ry’seth loathed being nothing but a skull! Had he the rest of his body, at least he could shamble around on his own bone feet.
There are fates worse than death, you know! Ry’seth complained, but was in fact wise enough not to push his luck any further on saying the wrong thing about said Tall and Silent’s lady love. A man would of course batter a fool who’d disparage his heart’s desire. Ry’seth would expect nothing less.
He quite liked this new one, though. This one had sense and charisma. Anyone who recognized Ry’seth’s wisdom and intelligence was to be gifted with that knowledge.
There I lay, down beneath my own stone balls, forced to waste away for all eternity when a miss of short proportions practically screamed right in my face. I offered my services, as one does to get themselves out of a bad situation, only to find they intended to walk into an even worse one! To steal a lich’s phylactery is madness, to choose THIS particular lich was truly a joke played upon us all by the gods!
He proceeded to blather on in excruciating detail his own valuable perspective. His fantastic help with the creepy trap. Where the girl nearly had her armed chomped off, and the scowling knight depleted his own reserves. A grand tale if there ever was one.
I was tasked to keep watch on this one and we were to stay put and rest. Yet here he is, disobedient, reckless! The plan was sound. At least for keeping this one alive long enough for him to leave. Not that he DID. We should be leaving here now while the leaving is… Fucking in all the hells, don’t go this way!
Ry’seth’s frantic plea came just as they crossed into a frost laden hall. There was no lich in immediately sight, but the evidence was there in the frost covered walls and ice sheet of the floor. A purple hue was emanating from a large hole in the crumbled ground, along with the strong aura of necrotic magic, sharp to the skin and smelling of decay.
It’s too late! Too late for her, but no too late for us. Shush! Silence! Turn around right now!
Talon nodded. Oohed and awed where applicable and sounded absolutely genuinely concerned for Ry’seth spiel about his stony balls, the means of getting caught up in the things that had apparently had both his brother and the missing Araminta. Lamenting on and on, and he listened. While he might be thinking that Ry’seth was clearly just desperate for someone to listen to him even if no one cared and he was rather long winded, there was useful information in his rambling.
In the form of how they had stumbled into the sacrificial den of the lich and the cultist lair to the black wyvern. A young woman’s wounds earned by sticking her arm into a statue to be bitten and how his own brother had broken the largest no-no in any magic wielder’s handbook of not trying to use more magic than one had. Granted, he didn’t even know Theon had magic till that moment. Not that the younger one said anything. Keeping to silence even as Ry’seth decidedly pointed out how he was supposed to stay put. And wasn’t.
“Well, if he stayed put, you would have too. And as you know, this place is filled with all sorts of dangers.” Talon mentioned as casually as mentioning the weather. “And surely you can remember what it is like to feel affection for another living soul, Ry’seth. Though I do question your interest in a certain harlot queen, but we all have our strange fixations.” Was he judging? Absolutely!
Just that in a manner of seconds the skull was telling them not to go a certain way. Where the walls were thick with frost and the air felt so cold that it was liable to pull the air out of one’s lungs. Pair on the familiar glow of purple magic housed in the means of necrotic affiliation and well, it seemed exactly the sort of spot one would wisely avoid if they didn’t want to deal with a lich.
With the chattering skull telling them again that it was too late for the girl. It got a flashing stare from Theon. His jaw moved in such a way that it was telling he was grinding his teeth under that beard and Talon had to just simply look over the younger man.
Giving Ry’seth head a nice pat-pat as to calm it down. “If you want to be returned to your resting place proper, you’ll have to just hold on a while longer, my bony friend.” Talon hummed, “You aren’t exactly in the best shape, Theo. Why don’t we do a little bit of the means of you just find Araminta and I’ll play with the lich. He might be strong but so am I.” Smiling wickedly then, “And I do enjoy fucking things up royally for Heirra. Even if it’s just making this place for the trial even harder to get into.”
Scooting closer to slide Ry’seth into the little satchel on the man’s hip, he gave his brother a nice squeeze to the shoulder. Granted if looks could kill, he might be when Theon showed that he was not quite in a mood to be friendly.
Dusting off his own shoulders then. Brushing palms back and forth so he could casually saunter into the cold space and exhale a liberal puff of flame. Looking around the space with feigned interest, before jumping down further into the festering hole. “Ello? Any body home? Dead or alive, I’m not fussy. I’ve just come to casually shit in the hole and thought I’d ask first.”
Stop putting me back in this hellscape of a bag, it smells like socks and sausage! Futilely hissed Ry’seth.
What Talon had dropped into was a large room filled from floor to ceiling with clutter. Perhaps even a cozy little workspace for the every day sorcerer, if it weren’t for the fact that at every turn there was some manner of skull from any and every beast that one could imagine. Skulls on bookshelves, skulls on pedestals. Skulls under protective glass domes. Artifacts practically pulsating with the magic inside them were also just as common. Scattered about as if they were mere afterthoughts. The place would’ve been perfectly tidy had the ceiling not caved in, which surely happened because of a certain dragon’s destructive entrance.
The lich was not pleased with this sudden intrusion, either. Yet had that same lack of care as before. No fear or concern about who was now in his private chamber. He’d moved the girl to his own special alter, made of black marble with streaks of sparkling gold. A near skeletal hand resting over her eyes while the other was prone with a knife, already lit up with a spell that was sure to be something incredibly ugly once it was to pierce through skin.
He’d not had the time to do much else. Lucky for Araminta, not so lucky for his precious spellcasting.
“More Blood of Hierra… Be gone, Dragon Born. You have no uses here. You are unwanted. Unremembered. A pestilence and a failure both of dragon and of man.”
Without an ounce of care or worry or wish to waste his energy, he was already completely ignoring the still living younger man to swing that tainted dagger downwards for killing his unconscious sacrifice!
Dropping down to the floor, his eyes made a languid pass around the space. It was, well it was a lich hole. Skulls, skulls and more skulls. With a few curious things that really weren’t worth too much of a thought and a woman that was posed ready for slaughter. Well that wouldn’t do but at the moment he was going to be uninterested in that too.
Picking up something to roll it around in his hands. Feeling it beneath and bouncing it back and forth a moment as the lich deigned to speak at him.
“Aw, see that’s where you are wrong. If I was unwanted, unremembered and whatever else you prattled on about, you wouldn’t have given me such a welcome.” Grinning effortlessly, “So I don’t think I’ll be going. You see, this is a fine place for little ol’ me.” Suddenly throwing the item at the lich’s hands that were doing things they shouldn’t be.
Sliding over with a sweep of arms no sooner and flame to flare up in a hot blast to turn frost nearest into drip drops. Forcing back the lich, “Look, love what you’ve done with the place. You’re face too. See you had some work done but we both know that if I want to be a big old pain in your bony ass, I will. And the bonus of both being a dragon born and the blood of Heirra is, magic doesn’t work on me the same way as others. So you can’t do your oogly boogly stuff.” Tapping his chest effectively, “Special privileges. You must be envious.” Giving another bout of the hot breath to push the lich back further. “She’s not worth your time, Lich. But I will be. We both know you have one of your urns nearby and all it takes is for me to get all fussy and angry and start stomping around like a manic brat to put it in danger.”
Somewhere he hoped Theon and Ry’seth were making their way down. “Or, well, I could just take the whole place down. Smash every, little itty bitty urn of your parts in the effect and still get what I want. You might be powerful but surely you know this is a fight that’s in your favour.” He motioned at Araminta, “And she’s already annoyed me. She might die but I’d rather she die rather than being your spooky bitch. So, wanna test me?”
Unlike most of the men and monsters under Heirra’s command, this was one of the rare ones that had a far deal greater amount of intelligence and foresight. He may have put the distance between himself and the girl to avoid the means of fire, but still seemed to show no fear about this dragon born’s threats.
In fact, with the way his leathery face attempted a smile, he was incredibly amused with the situation. Thoughtful.
“You may be dragon born, Blood of Heirra. You may think yourself dangerous and powerful. Yet here you are decimating an empty castle, like a child having a tantrum. Too weak to face the Blood Queen herself. You are as your sibling is. Nothing. Useless nothing.
Something shifted then with the ice cold frosted magic that encapsulated the room. Colder than any glacier it might be, now that violet hue dark magic had permeated within it. Creating a tingling, a burning. Soul sucking, life draining necromancy sparking to life through the very items scattered about his lair. A special brand of trap all of it’s own. And while the dragon born might not be affected the same, there were certainly other targets that would take that hit.
The lich open his hands towards the boy. A smiling gesture of Your move now.
“Tell me,” Placing a hand to his chest in a mock show of sincerity, “Is it a requirement for mother’s little minions to all have a degree in useless monologuing or is that just special for you?” With an effortless smile as the room certainly began to change further, Talon appeared to be abundantly unaffected. Although there was great worry all the same, he knew there was little else he could do besides be a annoying little prick. He was in fact, very good at it. And had always been very good at doing what he wanted.
It made him more of a difficult child to control in the actual scheme of things. Something about being a dragon spawn meant he was quite the problem child.
But this was certainly not just a basic lich, which only made him wonder if this was also a part of their family. “Must be fun, cursed to this place. Stuck here for eternity doing all of Heirra’s bidding like some pawn. You might call me useless but really, at least I can leave. Do things. But you, all that power, all that pomp and yet,” Talon stepped forward further like the cock of the walk so that he could close the distance between the girl and himself. Offering a few shows of fire to show he wasn’t bluffing about stomping around yet. “Here you are. Useless too. Hmm, sounds like you’re projecting, lich. So unless you want to keep wasting time and offer me something else I don’t care about, Imma start having said tantrum.”
“Assumptions made by a child who cannot see past his mother’s own teets to the picture beyond.”
If the lich were aware of that Talon was up to, he did not show it and still did not care. Other than a small amount of piqued interest with the words of the dragon born, the lich did give a haunting laugh.
“Lines of fate were drawn long before you were born, Blood of Heirra. Long before your mother. If it is information you seek – ask. If you wish to destroy this place, stop talking and do so. It matters not. What is to come will come. You most of all will meet your master in the Black Wyvern and heed his call.
Flapping his hand in mocking motion with the lich’s commentary even further, it had been confirmed. Yes, to be a minion of the great whore of the Imperial Lands, one had to have a talent for blithering at a drop of a hat. Even adding in a haunting laugh which got Talon to shortly applaud. “Like those of the actors in those troupes, even with the sinister laugh.”
Whatever this was around him, this sensation. It was dangerous and less he was to look around he suspected that at least Ry’seth would have been prattling on about how it was pretty much death for Theon to step into.
So he had one thing to do. Once more clapping hands. Body returning to smoke to rise and billow and plume. Amassing its shape to something that should not be deep underground and formed back into the shape of a glisterning red scaled beast. Dropping claw quickly to snatch the form of the woman into mitt as other happily clawed its way through the walls present. Opening maw with the sparkling crackle to burst forth the enflamed torrent to spill in white orange spread.
The lich sure as hell wasn’t happy about THAT! Appearing to be far more inconvenienced with the destruction of his tidy, cozy lair than anything else. Releasing out an ear piercing screech that’d be enough to send any normal mortal down to their knees with ear-bleeding agony. Raising up his hands to cast his own putrid magic, making such a wild contrast of color to the orange hot flames, that mist of purple that curled and swirled into the chamber felt nauseatingly prickly.
Then one by one each of the skulls in his hidden lair popped to life with a flare of burning orb eyes. Only unlike Ry’seth, they did not remain simple chattering skulls. Limbs grew outward from base of skull, forming first skeletal frame and then jerking and twisting until rotted meat grew to hold it all together. Undead rising to help clean up this mess that was being made, in the fashion that undead worked best. Hungrily and viciously.
Nor was this chamber the only place within the castle ruins both below and above. The lich’s magic was tapped into the very cursed veil that hung over these lands. Bringing the cursed dead back to life from where ever they had fallen. The cultists mangled by the dragon born. The souls lost to the Mage War. All those that had died in centuries prior whose remains were still buried or left decaying in the land.
After all, to face the Blood of Heirra, only an undead army would be worthy.
Man he was awfully upset for someone that had literally just said to either do as he was threatening to do or not. Like he hadn’t cared at all about the reality that Talon really was going to stomp and storm and claw and turn this place into an inferno. Screaming like a terrible little baby that just had the consequences of his actions realized when they were not simply bluffed up statements.
Opening the great wings upon back, pushing them outwards to force out walls and floors that stood in the way, cracking the space that was not meant to contain a large fire breathing lizard, it seemed the lich really was mad now.
Earning a chuckle from him, “Aw, baby don’t like being challenged!” Well as much as he would have loved to stay here seeing how much he could take on the very space in which was apparently very, very cursed –with bones coming back to life- Talon began to buffet wings. Dragging tail up and through to crash into anything it wanted. Opening maw again to give a fresh release of the burst of heated crimson. Letting debris fall and clatter all around, as head tilted upwards.
“Best be accessible, Theo.” The voice beckoned, “Otherwise you will be part of the lich’s army.” Wings attempted to flap but the space was properly too small. Needing space to stretch, well there was only one way forward then.
Stomping through the rubble! Holding the one claw closed to keep Araminta well insulated inside as Talon turned purposefully rough to knock through whatever confinements were to be in the way. “I hope that wasn’t expensive,” Cheekily offering a lizard grin, reaching up to grapple his way out of the plague hole. Hopefully brother would know to find a latch spot upon the red real estate because right now, they were getting out of here!
Poor Ry’seth was still stuck in a satchel, unable to see or be of any real use beyond vibes, but he was surely screaming a whole hue of fun curses when necromantic spells burst to life. Being a living skull himself, he knew very well what was being cast. Both in fury and in jealousy.
Where was HIS legs!
He yelped and he pleaded and he gave all kinds of advice, with no knowing of whether or not it was being heeded by the man who carried the woman’s satchel. …or if he even still carried it at all, and if potential he was being absconded away with by these dead fucks!
Araminta at least remained blissfully unconscious, for none of this was a sight she’d want to see. Rotting meat skeletons leaping from the ground to avoid flames – some not even being lucky and now just running in their chase as burning wicks! If Theon didn’t hitch a ride with the dragon, one could bet they sure were! Several grappling onto clawed feet and climbing up legs and tail like clinging fleas.
The farther Talon burst upwards through floor and walls, the more he was met with staring forms come alive with necromancy, reaching spindly arms to jump, grab and claw. No single one could really do any damage on their own, but there were just so many. All snatching for a piece of scale or skin. Content to grab at stray hairs or dig boney sharp hands into soft spots. Even attempts to make swipes for his preciously guarded stolen treasure!
As for the lich…. his ambitions and desires were far greater than any frustration or ego he presently had. The undead sorcerer had vanished once again to retreat back down into the depths of the old empire, working along a timeframe no dragon whelp or hollow fae was going to comprehend.
There was a primal vicious glee at this whole scene. The reanimated dead either trying to attack or running like living candles. Helping spread the flame further and truthfully, he might have happily stayed to continue playing till he either was bored or was overwhelmed. A good chunk of his very being wanted too. A base part that was still highly barbaric that needed the side of reason to remind that he had come here to find something to throw at the old wind bag, but found a sibling and a bratty princess. It wasn’t exactly gold but it was good enough.
Thankfully, as the means of climbing out and letting as much debris be rained down, he seen the sibling trying to fight back that of some living skeletal beings and failing. It was enough for him to reach down and swoop the other into the same grip as Araminta, “So sorry Theo but, hang tight.” Giving himself a steady wet dog shake to dismantle any clingers as much as possible but continued his upwards travels. Buffeting wings intermittently to shake loose attachments, or letting a flurry of the same red breath encase to keep things off.
Granted he already figured they’d have a few stragglers coming but they’d be shaken free by the speed of flight or stop living once they were too far from the necromancer’s powers.
But there was some good from this. Clearly the lich was up to something and this had in fact been the perfect place to attack originally.
It would be a fine testament to mention once they entered the Barrens. A fine bit of information to tell to that of his accompaniment.
It took a bit of time to eventually come close to the surface. Helpfully using the whip of a tail to swing and topple in stone of the castle down into it. Letting gravity work on squishing and annoying whatever else wanted to try to exist down there, wings managed to get their full spread. Giving a deafening bellow to shudder the ruins once more. Leathery appendages gave a hard puff as legs leapt upwards to aid himself back to flight. For something as large as he was, it was surprising how quick he was. Taking to skies only to wheel around and douse the place in a fresh torrent of inflated breath. Streaking from tip to tip. Once more pausing to fan the flames to rise and spread quickly, the beast kept his hand clutched tight. Ultimately turning breath towards his own body to douse in the inferno to remove more of these needling pets. Especially the ones that kept digging into the soft spots! “Damnable fleas!” With that, he launched further upwards. Spinning in an upward flare to burst out above the hue of sickly purple and shake once more.
Considering a moment the state with a sense of mild frustration but the castle was more of a fitting topple ruin with few places still standing. But he knew of the barrows now. And that would need to be investigated later, for now… “We fly!”
This is a kidnapping! Unacceptable behavior! I was promised rest! Where is that tiny little madwoman?! Tell her I did my part!
What luck for Ry’seth that his own raised curse was not that of the lich’s powers or belonging to the terrible magic fallout of the old kingdom. Even when the dragon broke through the purple hues of the sky and look down about the landscape that had long been accustomed and twisted by the magic, Ry’seth was still just as undead as ever.
A different sort of problem to solve as he kept having his own tantrum within his leather satchel prison.
At least he was useful for something because all of his shouting was rousing Araminta – or maybe it was the distance of finally getting far, far away from the undead sorcerer. The gasp of breath she made sounded brittle as did the squeak of pain she made. Her entire self felt so unbelievably cold! A Caeldalmor blizzard was frosty for certain and she did so love the snow, but this feeling wasn’t the usual natural sort of chill. Instead it felt more like the icy grip of death was trying to claw and drag her back down to a long slumber.
It was there she gave a small example of why despite all odds she kept surviving. For as soon as awareness hit, Araminta woke up fighting. Gasping out a curse of her own when her vision turned out to be too blurry to even know what she was dealing with, only remembering she was being chased by a dragon man and collided into that blasted lich! A bullshit series of events for certain, and she was going to kick and bite and scream and wriggle herself to freedom!
Not knowing that freedom was going to be a fall like she’d never had before!
They gathered further and further into the heavens. Shortly breaking through that to the clouds to conceal the sheer shape of something that was rumoured to be long dead and gone. Not about to start announcing to everyone entirely that there were still the existence of some great flying beasts of the leathery type. Moving swiftly with each flap of wings even as there was apparently the waking of a woman in palm while other seemed to be very quiet.
Although at this point, it seemed on point. “Cease your fighting Araminta less you wish to drop to a sure death.” Talon flexed palm some as a sort of indication that she was within it and took the gravely silent sibling as either just choosing to be quiet or had succumb to the weight of it all. It would be beneficial if it was the latter.
The flight itself was thankfully not terribly long. Benefits of flight. Benefits of size. Benefits of speed.
Where the wintery chill of an approaching frost of the season began to turn into something warmer. Where cloud cover began to cease and open into arid skies and a glittering pool of broad ocean. Taking them away from the imperial infestation and well across to the dappled collection of islands that were outside the boundary of the crazed woman thus far.
Where those who had wisely retreated to band together, Talon descended swiftly. Coming down to blitz across the water till wings opened wide to catch the air and thundered legs across the white sand. Rumbling the earth with great bumps. Where there was a multitude of buildings a bit away from where he had landed. Housed amongst the valley of ever green and tropical delight, he opened that of fist to lay the collect two and a skull upon the beach.
Promptly switching back to the more manageable size and stepped over. Passing Araminta with a sort of look that said I caught you, but knelt down to be grateful that in fact Theon had come a victim to the manna sickness. At least forcing slumber. “Who the hell knew he would become so stubborn.” Sighing at first, Talon reached around to grab the pack. Pulling Ry’seth out of it, “Well look at you. Something special that you don’t get to be all nonexistent even so far from home.”
And of course, “Here! Since you like to be a cheeky little thing, you can have him back. I’ll handle Theo.”
Araminta absolutely didn’t cease anything, and it was lucky she didn’t have much strength of body to do any damage, let alone squirm her way out of a dragon’s grip. Trapped in that fight or flight frenzy herself even when the dragon had come to land somewhere that would’ve sparked her awe and attention if she weren’t so much more worried about other things.
A bit in shock at first when she was back on land and having that elven skull shoved into her hands. Blinking at first in an attempt to clear her version, only to unceremoniously drop poor Ry’seth (his complaints about such treatment being loud and wailing) and to take a running shove to push Talon away from Theon with all the bodily strength she could muster.
“No! You’ll not handle Theon! You do not get to appear and do anything with Theon!”
Araminta was furious at such a level she did not know what to do with it. Fear was a big part of it, but the rest was just a pure anger on Theon’s behalf. Trying to find the words to explain it, though, wasn’t coming. No well put together lecture to condemn the dragon for his actions past and present. Not yet anyway. The mountain princess being more concerned with rushing to Theon herself to drop to knees and check his head. To press her own overchilled hand to his cheek and see if his manna sickness was coming anywhere near enough to a head or if he was still very much as cold and shivering as she.
“Hey!” While he didn’t exactly get toppled over, she did push him back a few steps. Watching this tiny menace of a princess come at him as though he were about to do something truly wicked! “I just saved your ass from being that Lich’s newest bride and you are acting as though I want to do anything to my brother! I’d think you’re a monkey by the way you are making assuming leaps of whatever favour in your head!”
He could understand fear. Worry. Uncertainty but surely somewhere in that rock of a head that was under that dark hair, she might realize that if he was about to do anything truly vile, he would have done it already. He could have done it!
But he steadied himself. Taking a breath in. And out. Repeating it a few times till he was mostly calm and stepping in again. She could get all feral chicken on him as she liked, but he was not about to be bullied by this what, five foot even gremlin because she wasn’t rubbing two brain cells together to generate a concrete thought.
Watching her doing, whatever it was she was doing. “He needs food. A good elixir to replenish his manna. Which I don’t think you have and we are here where there is others who can help with that stuff.” Kneeling down on the opposite side and watching her just in case she did decide to become a scratching cat, Talon shook his head.
Theon was pale, shallow breathing with the stench of blood but it wasn’t any worse than before. It wasn’t good but it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been. There was no shivering or trembling like Araminta was. Though he did reach over to pick Ry’seth out of the sand. Brushing him off as gently as he could, “What a way to treat an elder.” Muttering and eventually leveling the reddish brown eyes on her once more. “I’ll carry Theo to a place he can rest properly. And you can be a little bat in the ceiling if you want but unless you let me do what I need to help my sibling, you’re only hindering yourself and him. Look at you. You’re shivering like mad. Now would you just stop screeching at me and let me help. Whatever beef you have with me can bloody well wait. And honestly, your beef is nothing either. I don’t have to answer to you, moody pants.”
For a second there it did seem like she was going to leap at him again. Ready to do whatever it took to make sure he wasn’t sinking claw into the unconscious man. Actually having to take that moment to draw in a deep breath to temper her own panic and asses the situation, because she couldn’t very well protect Theon if she lost all her wits, could she!
He was just as sassy as he was before and Araminta did listen, even while she was squinting those evergreen eyes at him. Trying to will her own aches and pains to go away so she could see a single man there instead of three. Nothing about his tone suggested that he intended to do harm, and it was true he’d brought them this far unscathed and whole. Even if a little battered.
Still, she was not about to fully trust him after he’d abandoned Theon in the first place. To disappear and be ‘dead’ all this time only to appear now? It’d be foolish to assume his good intentions without proof first. Unfortunately, to get that proof one had to take the risk.
“You left him with her. Helping him is a good start…” she did admit, even if reluctantly. Giving still, that chiding, distrustful look to the dragon born male, before reaching out to take Ry’seth a bit more delicately this time. The dead elf getting the softer more apologetic expression when she pat it gently on his bleached skull.
“I am sorry, Ry’seth Ael Brydove. You did your best.”
I DID do my best. The stubborn stony faced ass wouldn’t listen. Give me a better job next time, why don’t you! Something more fitting for a man of my stature and wisdom!
“And you left him downstairs,” Talon retorted without a bat of an eye. “We all make choices, that in hindsight have a different obvious answer that you can’t change.” Apparently he was not above voicing thoughts in whatever matter he felt fitting. Sure, Araminta was right. But at the same, she did not know what had happened so long ago anyways. She could preach at him like she knew all the answers and would have done the better things to avoid all repercussions, but that was highly doubtful.
The only reason he didn’t launch into his own Ry’seth inspired prattle was Araminta was clearly no good for wear either. She had been battered around and nearly made into what he assumed to be the next lich popsicle! A undead treat for the damnable thing. She was probably more on instinct than logic and Theon was apparently that important that she was so close to just crawling on top and guarding the unconscious man.
It would have been a sight to see but right now, not worth it.
Only when she took those emerald jades from him to hold Ry’seth a lot nicer, he moved to gather up Theon. Grunting, “Not so little anymore, are you?” Expecting no reply but gathering up while Ry’seth pointed out in his own way how helpful he had been and the job he had been given was pretty much impossible. “You ought to be thanking Theo. You might have been squished under the rubble had he decided not to stay put.” Grinning in remark, once feet and knees were stable; he could hear the sounds of others approaching.
A willowy tall pale woman and a short but wide man. One elf, one close enough to a dwarf. “Talongrath,” Nai called looking a bit perplexed at the whole situation but she was pressing her lips as the man was shaking his head heavily.
“Be a dear, Nai and collect an elixir from Phita. And maybe Ossord, you could get a hut ready for visitors. A healer too for that one, careful though. She bites.” Gesturing to Araminta as the two just glanced at another and seemingly turned right around to trot off with their new tasks.
Shuffling his hold on Theon a bit more, “Come along princess, we’ll have a nice new hole for you to crawl into and maybe you can warm up under whatever regales of stories and wisdom, Ry’seth wants to tell.”
Araminta was in no mood or state to have her shortcomings pointed out by this man, or have it reminded that Theon could’ve been crushed to death because of her attempts to keep him somewhere safe from cultists and demons. It was already sitting in her stomach like a lead weight, right along with that fact he was in this terrible condition in the first place, because she’d stuck her arm into an evil demon idol and he’d been forced to shield and protect her.
And her attempt to return that care had only made things worse, it seemed. They’d spoken about these things. It didn’t make her feel any less useless and problematic to him in the moment.
At least Araminta could carry along the bags and Ry’seth while his brother handled Theon himself. Watching curiously as others appeared, flushing a faint crimson to be named as a biter – well she WOULD! Araminta would protect Theon with any means she had. Talon was lucky she’d had sense enough not to start swinging that bone knife around.
Staying close to Talon’s heels, she wasn’t about to let Theon out of her sight. Giving a small huff of breath to hear her title spoken like it was more of an insult or a disbelief, not much liking the way he spoke to her, but for the moment caring more about the state of one unconscious prince. As long as Theon was cared for, Talon could say whatever he wished to her.
Ry’seth himself, of course soaked up all of these compliments and allowances on his behalf. Thrilled that suddenly he was in a position of life and power once again even if he had no body to get about with.
My wisdom is indeed endless. He affirmed. For example, dragons are as old as the fae and the demons. Some say dragons are even older, though you ask a fae that and they’ll spit in your face. One would think dragons could rule these lands, but they’re solitary and moody and most don’t give a damn about a good fuck to breed more of themselves. Which is quite amusing because the fae and demonkind are liable to fuck just about anything if it breathes and looks interested!
Araminta very seriously considered stuffing Ry’seth back into her bag!
It wouldn’t take long before the entire place was steadily buzzing with that of his own return and with guests. Curious ones. Sure that if he wandered over to the local pub and decided to see who could spin the best tale of what sort of guests he brought, none of them would guess correct. A exile prince. A mountain princess and a old animated elder skull. Yeah, it would be hard to beat. Worth a bet too if he was feeling greedy enough to try and fill his pockets a bit.
Just right now with new requests ask of fellow dwellers, he altered his statements to goad Ry’seth into speaking. Finding the skull to be positively wonderfully annoying in all the best ways. Especially when the skull decided to talk about dragons, fae and demons. Mentioning things that were both fascinating and horribly inappropriate in front of lady company. Granted, the way Araminta seemed like a feral little spriggan, he didn’t know if it was that impolite to mention. “Everyone has their particular yums, Ry’seth. Race influenced or not.” He offered as they scooted further into the village.
Finding all sorts of variety of said races and eyes looking at them. He wouldn’t have been surprised if someone ran through the sandy streets bellowing about the arrival of unknowns like some drunken crier.
The gossip would be hot and flowing this night.
They weren’t terribly far before Ossord had been standing at a little hut that was suitable for guests. Or mountain bats to cling to the roof too if she wanted. With the dwarf man holding the door open, “Oh thank you good sir. You’re tip will be in the mail.”
“Every time ye leave, I be always hoping ye be back with less of a self important attitude, Talon.”
That brokered a honest laugh out of him. Head toss slightly back to guffaw his way inside. Heaving the younger sibling as gingerly as he could onto the futon bed and stretched his back out. Eventually looking at Araminta, “So I’ll leave the whole strip him down to at least a tunic and pants so he doesn’t melt in this warmth. Just know if you wanna hop on his jollies, to at least wait till Phita or Nia bring the elixir. After that, you can have at it.” Squinting an over exaggerated grin, only turning on heels to look at the short man. “A healer as well? Preferably Rosemary. I think she could take a few rounds out of the spicy little pepper here.”
Ossord looked momentarily concerned. At him. Then to the woman, “I think she only wants to nibble on me, so don’t worry too much, Os.”
“Ye guna be ending back in that of a lecture from Darien if ye keep ‘arrassing people, Talon.”
“Oh fun. I do love our one on ones.” Clapping merrily as if he wasn’t in for a boring conversation about not being a bag of prickles. “I’ll stick here till our healer arrives just to make sure nothing explodes. I’ll fill in our valiant leader later. Go on now, Os.”
“Best of luck to ye miss.” Os bowed his head in a sort of sympathetic way before the door was left ajar for now.
Araminta did not want any part of these more spicy topics – not so much that it bothered her about the truth of things, only she was still a lady and she did not need to ear so many torrid details. Even the ladies of the Sable Fawn were polite enough to speak in ways that wasn’t absolutely embarrassing.
And oooh, Talon made it worse having to directly suggest things about her and Theon. Things that were plenty interesting enough on her mind, and it was not anyone’s business!
The people here seemed pleasant enough though, which was enough to help ease some of the stiff way she was walking and standing. At least what parts of her didn’t feel so sore and broken and deathly frozen. Talon was making it sound like she was some sort of nipping biting wildling ready to attack everyone at any minute, which did give her a tiny sense of satisfaction. That she at least presented herself as a problem to be wary of, and not something easily swatted away.
It did appear that Talon vexed many people. A sort of personality she was used to dealing with. If she could trust him, he might not be so bad.
“It seems I am not wrong and you are naught but mischief,” she remarked. Taking it upon herself to look over Theon and help remove those pieces of his armor that she could reasonably get, once she’d set Ry’seth safely aside where he could get a good look at the comings and goings from the open door.
Dragons are more beasts of lazy lounging. Creatures of seeking their fill of grand comforts and amusements, hoarding away trinkets and treats that catches their fancy and boasting of their large collections. Treasures, kingdoms, pretty harems of elves. I knew a dragon once that hoarded rats. That was an absolute shitshow for the neighboring town, literal and figurative.
He bowed at that. Taking being told he was absolutely nothing more than mischief as a glowing compliment. Pleased with it and smirking a bit with furrowed brows when Ry’seth ever so helpfully decided to say more about the draconic types of being hoarders of collectibles but notoriously known to be more lazy things. Which, wasn’t wrong. “Hmm, can’t say I agree with the collection of rats but fun information to have regardless. I do like the idea of treasure and a kingdom of course.” Placing hands upon his hips, “Eventually that will be taken care of too. Just gotta get the old bitch off the throne and properly buried sixty foot feet deep in lava.”
Was he being coy about his ideas? Not at all!
He was the closest first born to the old twat and still and Edmonstone too. Even if he might not have the official title, well none of that mattered. What mattered was fixing this monumentally large problem and start fixing things that had been left to rot and wither and feed whatever crazy cult that Heirra had devoted herself to. Hoping that she somewhere regretted ever finding a dragon stupid enough to sire a child with. Enjoying the idea of being a thorn in her side once more.
But the thought alone turned his face into a contemplative frown. Stepping over to the bed and decidedly looking at the state of things that was a mountain princess turned trial taker and a not so little sibling that had apparently shirked away from mother mayhem’s claws for now. “She still has his heart, doesn’t she?” He asked a little more seriously. Then eyes were on Araminta, “Guess we’ll have to find one to replace his then so he can break the spell from here. As I don’t recommend trying to get into her dungeon to reclaim it. But a new one, well… that’s perfectly doable.”
There was a wrinkle to her nose at his bow, being the tiniest of hints that his ridiculousness and his charms were actually working, even if she wasn’t pleased about it. Actually finding herself quite interested in this reveal that he saw himself taking his mother’s place on the throne. Drawing her to cast him a dubious look over and consideration.
Theon would be a great king, yet he was adamant that didn’t want anything to do with it. Not to take his mother’s place, not to help erase her name and curse on these lands. Beyond making sure she was gone and no longer a threat to anyone, what he wanted afterwards had nothing to do with power and ruling. Something Araminta at least understood, but she herself had a kingdom to worry about and with that came a certain expectation what could be done for the Imperial Lands. She did not see herself as a Queen, yet it was not something she shied away from either.
One had to be a little suspicious of one that seemed thrilled about taking on the responsibility. Especially when he had such a mischievous personality!
Those thoughts were put to an immediate stop at the mention of Theon’s heart. Erasing all of those distrustful expressions back to the fully earnest want to do whatever it took for Theon to be wholly himself again.
“Can it really be done that way? To give him another heart? There’s no need to go searching for one, he already has mine. He can take the whole thing and use it any way he wishes!”
“There’s a few ways to break the curse on an enchanted heart. I don’t think Heirra realizes this or if she does, she hasn’t made too much of an effort towards halting it mostly. But yes, it can be done that way.” Talon spoke earnestly before he chuckled at her. “It’s cute you are so quick to offer but you slightly need yours as well as if you are this infatuated with him, I suspect he is similar to you. Wouldn’t be very good if you lost your heart to keep him alive, would it? Kinda would have the opposite effect, I would assume.”
He wasn’t going to actually tell Araminta that it was one way the curse could be broken. But it meant they would have a split heart and it had its own problem with it. So unless there was no other way around it, that was a last course of action.
“Obviously, we kill Heirra. That ends the curse. The other is finding his actual heart she pulled out and giving it back. But she has those deep in the imperial palace. And if you thought her birth place was fucked up, well,” He made such a face that it was expressing that it was only a cake walk by comparison. Daring a glance over to Ry’seth who had been peculiarly silent now, half expecting the old skull to offer his own advice. He still could.
“I don’t think you are a nokken like he is. So that would actually be the best heart to get. Something aligned to his fae side. If I remember anything, having one’s heart made into an enchanted one; it’s hard to use any of your natural abilities. It’s like trying to pour a gallon of water into a one inch cup and expect it to take it all easily. To get him to have more of a capacity, we should find a nokken or even a fae of some sort that can help. Replace it back into his chest with some fanciful magic and well, the other heart will cease to be useful. Heirra won’t be able to use it to harm him or limit his own abilities. There will be no leash left.”
Talon leaned against the headboard, “And I do know what I am talking about. I am a product of that same thing, the only difference was I had draconic relatives that were willing to give me. So it does work and the old wrinkled boot can’t do anything about it.”
Another wrinkle of her nose and a deep frown, this time having to accept the truth that giving her whole heart literally to Theon might not be the best course. Araminta would die for Theon in a heartbeat, only what she really wanted was to live for Theon. To live WITH Theon. To have their beautiful, comfortable home out in the woods, surrounded by the garden they’d talked about and her chickens and to have meals that Theon made while she played music for him. An entire wonderful life that required the both of them to be in one piece.
“But is to find an entire whole new heart not going to harm someone else? Freely given or not, he would not be happy about that either. Nor do I feel he would trust it. Theon does not even trust food that isn’t made by his own hands, Talon. A heart is something very precious.”
This one is a fae-touched daughter, chimed in Ry’seth a few moments late. What can he say? This was like watching the most interesting of theater dramas with all of the twists an turns. It could silence even his own love of talking! His undead bitchiness found that intriguing enough! Fae blood runs long and deep, fae-touched may not be full fae but my what a glorious reagent it can be in the magical arts!
Araminta had always thought that fae-touched meant a faerie’s blessing or curse on an individual. They were certainly stretching that to mean all sorts of silly things that couldn’t possibly be true. As Araminta was nothing more than Araminta, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t land in so much trouble had she any sort of useful faerie gifts.
Demon marked too. Weird how I can smell it now that I’m dead. Not trying to kill us, though, so I guess she’s not possessed. Threatened to kill me plenty though, didn’t you, wicked woman! Look at how much help I’ve been!
“If I can finish the trials a little faster, I’ll be invited into her castle for the final trial,” mused Araminta out loud. Not wanting to touch on the subject of demons at all. “She doesn’t think much of me, I could sneak my way through all of her horrible torture chambers.”
Shoulders shrugged, “Nokken aren’t exactly known to be friendly sorts. More mischievous than I ever could be but they might be persuaded into helping.” He wasn’t about to say it wouldn’t be a trade of one life for another. It literally was but the whole means that Theon didn’t trust easily was hardly something that felt revolutionary. Even if he gave a bit of a narrowing of eyes to the statement that he didn’t even trust food. Needing a moment to think about that and could fill in the blanks as to why. “A heart is something very precious but its also very vital.”
Eyes rose to the skull when he ever so helpfully told what the lich had rambled on about, “Now I’m even more convinced a minion has to have a certain level of monologuing unlocked to work for Queen Bitch.” Head shook but looked at Araminta a bit deeper. “You just did say that fae’s would screw around at their leisure, it shouldn’t be too entirely surprising that the mountain child herself has ancient fae blood in her somewhere. But I don’t think using her as a reagent would be any more useful. That might not make us any better than mister crunchy lich.”
But shortly laughed when Ry’seth said Araminta was also demon marked. Rubbing his brow shortly, “I am starting to think this list of what you may not possibly be to be shorter for us.” But he took in a breath and shook his head at her. “Araminta, it won’t matter how sneaky you are inside the beast’s lair when she can pretty much feel and see everything inside. You aren’t giving Heirra the proper respect as to why she is a villain. You finishing the trials and now this little tidbit of knowledge that you have fae blood, well, you just might be the final ingredient to whatever she needs to bring out the black wyvern or what not. Speculation on my part, but if she hasn’t been defeated in what… god how old is she now… older than she looks. I know that. Regardless, she’s not just a simple foe. She’s smart. Smarter than any can actually say and she has owned these lands with effective ability to crush.”
He crossed his hands over another, “You’re from mountain kingdom, right. Heard it was overrun by demons. Do you think that just happened on a whim one day? There is more than just one villain in this. There are multiple followers to the Black Wyvern cult and they are everywhere. Believing you can sneak through is a damn bad idea.” Talon hummed then, “Put it this way. If she can do that,” Pointing to Ry’seth, “And has a big bad lich doing something dastardly in her ancestral home which I am pretty sure she is the reason why it is the way it is, do you think you can just take her on? Because if you do, then maybe you should just do it. Because she’s had eons to prepare and you’ve got… months?”
“If I am an ingredient to her spellwork, then she would not have sent Theon to kill me and ensure that I did not finish the trials. She would not have sent her Mercenary to finish me, when Theon refused to do it,” she revealed, even crossing her arms a bit in self defense. Or coldness. Or heavy, deep weariness.
Araminta did not want to roll down that hill again of second guessing, self doubt, and defeat. They were battered and shaken, but against all odds they’ve survived the sixth trial. That was more than most had ever done. And not just the trials… Araminta and Theon had found allies along the way. Perhaps she’d started the trials ready to die and with wild ideas of setting loose geese and harpies into the Imperial Queen’s castle, but now they were genuinely building something.
“…I know that I seem foolish, naive and reckless,” Araminta did admit. “All you have seen of me so far is a crazy woman willing to fight a dragon to shield someone she loves. I am that for Theon. I am also more? Heirra for all of her power and all of her intelligence might raise demons and devastate countrysides, but she cannot crush hope.”
With such a statement, she softly gestured to Theon with an expression so gentle she might’ve been embarrassed to know how plainly obvious it was.
“She made him and tormented him, then let his own siblings do the same. The world has shunned him and scored him. Yet in his heart he still burns, alive and striving. He could have been broken down into nothing, and instead he’s a man of compassion and kindness and everything truly good in this world. If he can exist, despite the shroud of evil that tried to crush him… then I can most certainly rise to the occasion. Hope is more powerful than anything Heirra has or will ever be.”
“And if that is stupid, then well. I am stupid. Not all ideas are good right off the bat, they have to be mused over first! We were doing our best before you arrived to the scene, you’re not giving due respect to how much we’ve accomplished. How much Theon has accomplished, because I never would have survived without him. Not in this trial or any of the others.”
“One doesn’t have to be alive to be used for ingredients.” Talon raised his brows rather purposefully. “Especially if you have some sort of fae blood in there, then it’s better if you were dead.” He wasn’t about to get into semantics with this woman. If anything, she kind of seemed like an airhead. But he also couldn’t knock her entirely because well, she was clearly young. And had made it this far too but she did need to develop a sense of mortality to understand that Heirra was not just some playground bully. She was evil incarnate without a reason to be that way. Just that she was and underestimating her was incredibly stupid to do.
Even he knew that. Otherwise he would have just stormed the imperial palace to stomp and scream and scratch and light it all on fire. But even he knew that was not the right way of this. They didn’t even known what sort of things Heirra had hidden in the background and what sort of demon’s she had backing her up.
The hells were not just a burning inferno, they had some sort of hierarchy he had learnt in his years.
Just that Araminta seemed like she wanted to get on her figurative soap box. Pointing out that she was seemingly crazy which Talon nodded. Unafraid to agree with her, just that momentarily after her good two shoes spiel about hope, she had an expression that seemed influenced by the unconscious man. It was sickly sweet.
“Gods damn you are like a little sugar plum. Kinda dumb, kinda cute and a whole lot of something else.” Talon sighed at her and shortly narrowed his sights at her. “I never said you were doing bad. You have a terrible habit of jumping to conclusions. And I am more than aware of what Heirra did to us all. There was a lot of us Araminta, and I mean a lot. I’m the sixth eldest and Theon at the time was somewhere around the twelfth or fourteenth. I don’t even know if how many more were after him and there’s only the two of us left. So I get it. I grew up in the same place but the difference was, being older meant I was just that. Older. Stronger. Knew things and I tried my hardest to protect the little ones that weren’t crazy right out of the womb.”
He sighed then, rubbing his brow, “But that’s stuff that doesn’t need to get rambled on about. But if you are going to be a big ol dumb, then fine. It’s stupid to go after Theon’s heart. Honestly. I even bet that Heirra would hope you both would. As a little bit of a bait to try and do something. If she knows you two are involved, then that makes you a weakness for him and vice versa. Which apparently is fact because your nattering on about giving your whole heart over. So I suspect the silent sibling would be similar. But lets not get stupid reckless here.”
Slipping back to stand straight, Talon scratched fingers through his hair. “You can split your heart if you really want too. I wasn’t guna say it but that’s the fourth way of breaking the curse. It just comes with well limitations. It might help but its not the fix either. Eventually a proper heart has to be in both of you and it runs literally on a time clock. I have no idea how long you have before you both just die from a split heart but it is an option. A terrible one but one no less.”
His head tilted at the sound of feet approaching and eventually a human woman peeked in through the door. “Sarah, welcome! I see you brought a nice little elixir here from Phita. Please,”
He extended a hand to invite the woman in though she scurried more than walked. Glancing nervously at the strange people only to shove the blue bottle into his hands. Then bowed and ran back out. As if her own rear end was on fire. “She’s shy of new people. They make her nervous.” Talon turned the elixir over in fingers before offering it to Araminta. “I’ve got some things to do. People to talk too and affirm that you and Theo aren’t a bunch of fleas I had brought along with me. Get this into him and it will help replenish that whole depleted manna. Then well, whenever he wakes up, feed him.” Stepping around the girl, Talon reached out to Ry’seth, “Why don’t we go for a walk, Ry’seth. I am sure my friends that need to be assured would love to hear more about your infinite wisdom and be schooled on things they desperately ought to know. Spread the wealth of your intelligence amongst the plebians, hmm!”
Dumb! Well, maybe she was. Theon had a way of making her feel like more than she actually was, so perhaps the reality was that she only seemed clever because Theon thought so highly of her. Because she was the first person to see him for the soft heart that he actually was. A heart that was held captive by his own evil mother.
Araminta decided not to argue with him now. First impressions were not always clear, and it was certainly a two-way street. He thought of her as a foolish girl, and she felt he was a know-it-all. So used to doing things on his own, as someone powerful and confident and clearly doing well. Most importantly, he did seem to care deeply about the suffering his siblings had gone through, which spoke more to Araminta than anything else. There was more to him as there was to her. Right now she was simply raw and tired and scared, now she needed to have some patience and give him a little grace.
Even if it hurt a little to be reminded she was Theon’s weakness. How very true that was.
Then he so swiftly dropped the little nugget of knowledge that a heart could be split and shared. Araminta nearly opened her mouth to shout at him, that such a thing should’ve been told to her in the first place! Limitations or not, if that would break his curse and allow him to be wholly himself once again, that was something they could work through!
A new woman entered before Araminta could kick up a fuss… truly it might be for the best, because she needed time to think of this new possibility. As much as Araminta was willing, Theon would be difficult to convince. She accepted the vial from Talon with soft contemplative thank you.
Thank the gods! Finally, a place where people will appreciate me! Out here in the island I’m certain all will appreciate the illustrious tale of the first Mer King and the strange creatures that live in the deep seas!
Ry’seth was going to enjoy his new undead life, Araminta thought to herself. Waiting until they disappeared out the door for th peace and quiet. Giving the vial in her hand a distrustful frown, only to ultimately decide it must be trusted. Shifting over to the bed to pop the little cork of the strange elixir, to gently coax Theon into drinking it.
A wistful grin spread over his face at the idea that there was about to be a counting of tales that honestly after most of the people got over the shock of a talking undead head, Ry’seth was going to be the most popular story teller at the pub. And Talon was going to make sure that was where he was put to use rather than potentially earning more ire from apparently the wicked woman and the silent one.
“We’ll be seeing each other soon, little sister.” Talon dared to add on as he stepped from the door with a dramatic flourish, “Come, Ry’seth. To awaiting ears!” Making sure not to give a chance for the chattering skull to decide he didn’t want too. Well even if he didn’t, the choice was already made for him.
He’d never drank honestly a day in his life but he assumed the way one woke up from the depletion of manna was very similar. Where a headache pronounced itself to be akin to a band of war drums banging in that of limited space while eyes spun and you thought of nothing else but wanting to die. He’d experienced it enough recently to nearly be on a first name basis with the after affliction.
So it was a bit more than simply surprising to crack his eyes open and feel none of that. Let alone trying to puzzle together what ceiling he was looking at. Or the sounds around that were foreign. Paired with the warmth that was surely not associated with the approaching winter, it was all just a state of mind boggling bewilderment.
Settling to just sort of move to throw an arm over eyes while coming to assess that he was in something soft and nearly wanted to groan at the fact that somehow even now he was in a spot that he wasn’t sure why. Apparently still going to have issues upon first thought about mattresses that was unfamiliar. Even if Araminta had likely encouraged such things.
Araminta.
One name and suddenly he was jerking up to feel the sluggish pull of a head that while wasn’t headachy, it felt heavy. A tongue that felt like dry leather and a feuding temperament that was both worry for the woman that had left him behind and the silent frustration rising up to remind him why she had. Maybe staying unconscious would have been better!
Araminta had given him the elixir and waited with baited breath to be sure it didn’t somehow end up being a terrible trick. Sure that she would show his elder brother what Mountain Vengeance would look like if he had managed to bamboozle her. Luckily, he warmed up soon after and started getting color back to his face. Allowing her to sit back in a chair to keep watch.
Unfortunately, she was not in such good shape herself so as she sat there, elbow propped up on the side table and chin in her palm, she was quick to dose off. Likely looking eerily close to a lich herself, covered in her own blood and hair lopsided in it’s pin cause she sure hadn’t thought to straighten it up at all.
Thankfully she was unaware of the mess she looked, otherwise she’d be horrified and embarrassed to know the people here’s first look at her was of an old forest witch!
This time, though, Araminta was prepared for such a case. With one foot propped up on the bed so she’d know the very moment Theon awoke and inevitably tried to escape bed. His jolting had her jolting, only hesitating a fraction of a second to give him a fast look over to be sure he wasn’t grunting in agony before she was out of that chair and throwing her arms around his neck.
“I told you to stay and rest, but I am so so so glad you didn’t,” she breathed with relief.
There was only a brief stint of a second where he realized there was movement and it circling around that of his neck. A full body in that action and the statement about how she told him to stay and rest. But how he did exactly the opposite. Was that supposed to be some sort of test or was it something more? Honestly, he didn’t have enough all firing facilities to determine exactly what it meant or whatever hidden meaning was behind it. Only that they were clearly not in the castle or beset by a risen undead legion either. Piecing together thoughts that recalled as frantic recollection.
Undead rising.
Ry’seth doing the only thing he could do which was a lot of screaming and talking from the bag.
The very place being shaken because a great dragon born was stomping around.
And then being picked up like a little toy only to happily let silence take him into its grasp.
Trying to stir his mental state into a singular focus in which was aided by the means of the person that had spurred both worry to her own existence and a internal turmoil that actually made him nervous. Knowing the only reason he didn’t stay put was because he was trying to just get out of the way. To be gone. To discard himself since he knew well enough that things weren’t as they ought to be. Withdrawing the thoughts of proper misery to hold privately, whilst outwardly he shifted to wriggle out of her grasp.
He’d been relieved originally that after the fight with the lich, she had been fine. But things properly went downhill after that. Her frustration with him. The knowledge that he’d reacted in a means of trying to help but ultimately didn’t even do that. Merely providing a new problem to a even bigger issue.
And that didn’t even start bringing into focus that apparently Talongrath was alive and well. Even when he had seen what he assumed was some sort of mental apparition, it ended up being as real as himself. For a brief moment, he had been in complete shock. Then found something hot and mad in his chest that had to be swallowed back. He’d already made an ass of himself once that day and he didn’t care to do it again. Containing whatever it was that was had soaked his tongue in a sense of bitterness.
Once he was certain to have been able to just sit on the bed, he considered the location of their current placement. With no hidden knowledge that bespoke of knowing where this was.
Truthfully, he didn’t know what thought to focus on first. Or whatever concealed, harboured and suppressed emotion either. Eventually choosing none and settling in that comfort of perfect mask of stoicism that served well in other situations. “Did you obtain the phylactery?” Asking the most obtuse question he could. Watching her from the corner of eye though he noted her state of being. Just he was suppressing the means of fussing or making any effort to try and do anything about it. He wanted too but he wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
Of all the first statements for him to ask that surely was the last one she would’ve thought of. After having so much happen in the span of a day, a night? However long it had taken to go through that castle and the hidden ruins, then get completely turned around by all the chaos that followed – at least Araminta could understand that he’d want to be sure it hadn’t all been for nothing.
“Yes,” she affirmed with a nod. “…at least I am fairly positive. To be honest, I didn’t really take the time to give it a second look.”
Araminta pulled back from her squeezing hug to cast a grimace towards her bag, only she wasn’t quite ready to disengage from him yet. Keeping that physical contact by means of hands on shoulders before moving to cup cheek.
“Are you feeling better now? I was trying my best to give you enough time and it didn’t quite go to plan. Your- hmn.” she paused there, having no idea how to explain the breadth of what went down and it’d all been due to his brother. Araminta wasn’t sure when and how he’d acquired Theon at all, for the last thing she remembered was running from the man and then going right through that awful lich to land so brutally hard on the rocky rubble that she was honestly surprised nothing was broken! Just another added dent in her own skull!
Well, the best way was to be honest about it. That had always done them well.
“Your brother. Talon made a very interesting appearance in the form of a castle ruining dragon and things went a little sideways. He brought us here and gave you an elixir for your manna sickness. Has it helped? We need to get you something to eat and let you rest awhile longer.”
Honestly, he wouldn’t know if what she grabbed either was the right object. Even if it wasn’t and she had grabbed something else, it was likely important. To have gone to such lengths to put it inside the wicked statue. So while he could offer no reassurance to that, he did nod. Feeling the dullest of throbs in his skull. A minor problem by what it could feel like. Hardly anything to raise a complaint too.
Yet he was a little more startled when she was palming his face. Hesitant to move or stay. Mentally aware that he was holding a lot of things in his figurative arms about what he felt and how he felt. Keeping it sequestered away whilst keeping watch of her from that side.
Just that she asked about his state, paired with clearly the fact that she had reasons for why it was best to break that fragile element of what had been construed as a team. He’d never worked with anyone really so he maybe didn’t get the concept of what it took to be a united front. Maybe it was always a tenuous thing that was easily pushed aside when one was clearly the greater lack in the whole thing. Well if he put it like that, then it made sense as to why it was best he just stay the hell out of the way. History thus far proved he wasn’t that good at this whole team work thing, anyways.
But she started and then paused. Starting with your, which he already had to figure encompassed the very unlikely appearance of someone he had long since believed died.
She continued however and expressed that most of that new destruction was caused by Talon. He’d seen his brother as the grand scaled beast even while trying to keep back the undead beings that wanted to be sure to see him join their ranks, but hadn’t exactly digested that it had happened. Then thought about the known information that Talongrath had always been more of the wild child in the mass of children. Something about human and dragon genes making him quite the little pest for most to handle, but he could clearly recall the times when the elder sibling had done his best to help those of half blood.
They were fifteen years difference in age and yet, Talon was one of the few older siblings that was both cracked in the head and compassionate. A strange combination. “That is reflective of what I remember him being.” Suggesting things were prone to go sideways with the sibling.
Glancing away in vain hope to determine here again, he contemplated the means of a elixir. He’d heard of such things before but they were apparently fashioned by those whom were gifted with magic. Druidic if he recalled but had never actually seen one. Let alone knew they actually existed. “Yes.” Theon confirmed that it had helped. Immensely at that. But there was further means to her commentary and he was lightly shaking his head.
He had no appetite. No desire to try and certainly the means of resting any further was entirely out of the question.
Pushing hands off of knees to stand and realize that the armour he worn had been removed. The heavier outer clothing that had been prepared by Bo, also missing. Before he looked back to her. Considering her state of appearance. A pang in chest moved and he glanced back to the floor with thought. “You’ve been through turmoil.” Theon stated, “Rest may be best for you if you wish to.” He wasn’t enforcing her to do so. “I will leave you alone.”
Physically maybe, he was feeling better. But Araminta knew him well enough now to know that he was trapped in his own head again. Finding some fault within himself because things had not only gone unexpected ways, but piled big surprises on top of it. Reaching at first to grab his wrist, before remembering how important it was to him to allow him the time to work it out without her trying to pile all of her well meaning sugar on top. Let him feel, let him think, let him be how he wanted to be and not try to paint him with rainbows so everything was back to being all joy and sunshine.
She pulled her hand back to herself, finally taking notice that she appeared to be a bloody goblin of a girl. Stopping for a moment to pluck the pin out of her hair long enough to comb through it with her fingers. Grimacing at the pain there, but with no blood staining her hands she figured it was fine. Quick to at last pull the dark tresses out of her face and pin it again.
“I would rather stay with you? To rest together? We could both use a good night of sleep, I think.” she suggested. It was certainly true for both of them, for Araminta was exhausted and no doubt Theon needed some time to think, even if he wouldn’t lay down and actually sleep.
A sudden grab and nearly just the same in a retreat, he was watching her once more. Standing there trying to unravel the massive tangle of far too many thoughts and feelings to know what to do with any of them. All of them! Maybe if he were more of a destructive sort, the idea of just throwing it into some sort of flame would be a fine response. Alas, that was not him and even if it was, how did one just light their overwhelming thoughts on fire.
There was one glaring feeling though that stuck out even amidst all of this. Watching her suddenly scramble to sort herself from looking like she had gone a new round with the angry second bog witch that didn’t get a sandwich. Straighten up as much as one could and he could recognize that as much as the weight of something as much as already knowing that he was nothing, and thought he had accepted it; he still worried immensely about her.
She didn’t look nearly as gleaming or ready to charge out in the next adventure as she typically might. Ready to go finding the nearest sense of life to talk and figure out clues to whatever was on that mind of her own. Honestly, Araminta just looked worn down and he didn’t blame her for that.
Not even sure what the hell she had been doing after he’d been too taxing to stay with. Just she had a run in with Talon first and then the revived lich apparently.
Funny how in all that, he felt a sense of smug annoyance that Ry’seth statements of Araminta being dead were in fact wrong. Which had him looking around. Apparently the mouthful stupidest man dead was absent. Maybe left behind.
In the end, he cared.
In the end, he worried.
In the end, he loved Araminta even if he was a glaring fault.
He’d turn back to face her properly then. And for once, he didn’t show complaint about the vessel in which she sat upon now. Just that he moved back to sit down. Motioning with hand to indicate she was to do her little scurrying thing to make herself comfortable first. Waiting and following easily into the expected space next.
He really must have been busy with his thoughts not to find a to grimace at the bed like it had been the true evil of the land.
There was no hiding her immediate look of relief, having fully expected him to do the usual round of refusing to rest or allow her the chance to soothe him. Truthfully, such things were just as necessary for herself too! He might have died a dozen different ways because of her actions and her choices. He could have expelled his manna straight to death with the lich. Those cultists could have caught up with them and killed him there. The entire castle could’ve come crashing down on his head. There were so many ways they could’ve died and all Araminta wanted was to be here now with him, perfectly well and still alive.
No hesitation came from kicking off her boots and scurrying into bed. Waiting almost impatiently for him to right himself there next to her where he belonged, so that she could curl up at the crook of his arm and bury her face into his neck. A long shuddering sigh followed before she was finally able to allow herself to relax.
Things would be alright. He only needed time, and Araminta only needed him.
Later, once there was the chance to sort out turbulent thoughts and recover from the absolute chaos that was the sixth trial, they could have a conversation about the gift of her heart he was likely going to try and refuse.
Such an action wasn’t enough to shut the plethora of internal judgment but it was good to know that even as she made her boots the mortal enemy to be rapid fired off feet, and made the abhorred luxurious bed into a place to roost; he felt still that relief.
There was a lot to unpack.
A lot to unpack. Even regarding Araminta.
How the lich had been so strangely curious about the reveal of her apparently having fae blood. Which he wasn’t sure what to think about either. It might explain something about the fact that she could sooth the fae in the enchanted woods. But that was unclear. They’d literally have to speak to the fae back there to maybe glean even a scratch of an answer.
Still, as he settled and she came to find her placement; he hardly had a reason to ask about it.
The heat of breath warming in the crook of neck from how she sighed. Guessing that she was probably more anxious about things than what she was saying. The sixth trial had been certainly a lot more than either of them had expected. In many ways. And it was doubtful they’d ever have clear answers about any of it.
Shifting some to face into her, Theon moved to pull up the blanket to at least coil around her. “You’re cold.” He muttered noticing that she did have a chill to herself. Even when the weather felt unusually hot. Smoothing a few errant hairs back before tucking his chin over her crown. Squeezing arms around, and just, “I’m glad you’re safe.”
Araminta did not realize how chilled she actually was until she was wrapped up in his arms. He always did seem to run a bit warmer than she did, assuming that it’d come from being a fiery mage. Between cracking her head twice in one day, the blood she’d let freely bleed, and that blasted lich jumping right through her, Araminta supposed she’d must’ve just gone too numb to even feel the cold anymore.
This was a wonderful way to warm up, though, made all the better by him speaking. Araminta might’ve been content to revel in his usual silence, but if he were speaking then he wasn’t in such a bad state that she needed to be worried.
“I’m glad you’re safe too,” she murmured softly. Had it not been for Talon, there was a chance neither of them would’ve survived this trial.
…of course, if not for Talon, things wouldn’t have gone so much worse, either. Luckily for him, she couldn’t blame the dragon born man for something he could not have possibly known.
At least they could deal with that later. For now, she made a soft humming sound and nestled as close as she could. Leeching and soaking in heat like a spoiled cat.
It may have been beneficial for her to have gotten a chance to find a tub of hot water to start soaking and bringing heat back to her extremities. But there was clearly nothing like that in this place. It was just a large singular room with a bed and a table. A chair too. Very minimal and meant to just simply sleep. And honestly, the way she had curled up so promptly swift was enough of an indication that she was certainly ready for a far more calmer moment.
Not to be potentially facing off more enemies or great environments that presented challenges they couldn’t foreseen a clear answer too.
That very thought alone only made him metaphorically sweat at what the seventh trial was going to hold. If there were more things present that were dedicated to this cult and the very means of the woman that was seemingly more involved than just a mere follower. It shouldn’t surprise him about the Imperial Queen. It only really worried him more about the depths of these trials and really their purpose of them.
If they were really the only way.
Lightly offering a hum to note that yes, he was safe currently. Still unsure where this place was but so far it hadn’t proven to be an awaiting trap. And if he focused hard enough, it sounded like there was moving water somewhere nearby that was that of the ocean. Familiar as the port town, with less of a sea salty air. Granted they were inside, so he wasn’t sure.
Right now, he might not be ready to attempt to lull back to the means of slumber but he did quietly insist that Araminta ought too. Already putting into motion through the channels of thoughts of courses of action. Her arm should be checked out by someone of healing education. Then well, just all of her. Being in a lich’s hold surely couldn’t be good and this was the same person that had left a demon wound untended too for so long that it had caused a great ordeal. So the priority ought to be having her checked over by someone who knew their way around medicine proper.
Then getting the means of bearings and if he was bold enough, talk to her about his uncertainty to whether or not they were a compatible means of a team if he was a constant problem.
Not a mage. Not a knight. Not a fae or human. Just a massive punctuation mark that declared every word of the lich’s callous commentary more true than he liked. And had thought he accepted as fact. But he wasn’t sure if he was willing to mention it in case what would be said would harm Araminta more than anything. Content to keep such things private as not to provide inconvenience when there was already plenty of that elsewhere.