Realm of Monsters - Chapter 658: The Pit
Chapter 658: The Pit
“Our souls are connected to Mortem…?” Lysaila asked. The lamia’s and Rhian’s expressions had grown darker with every word Stryg had spoken to them. He really didn’t want to say anything more, but he owed it to them.
“Technically, you don’t have a soul.” Stryg winced. “Only the World Soul is capable of creating souls. What my father and sister accomplished was to create an organic shell. Then my father used his own connection with the World Soul to impart a sliver of his power into the beastkins, thereby imitating a soul. It’s also that sliver of power that gives him control over all of you.”
“And because you inherited that power, you can also exert control over the beastkin,” Lysaila surmised.
“Whoa, is that what you did the other day?” Rhian asked.
“No. No, I’d never try to control you, Rhian, or any beastkin. I simply reached through our connection and spoke to you. It’s different,” Stryg said.
“Not really,” Lysaila muttered. “At the end of the day, we are bound to you, whether we want to or not. It’s the same reason I can’t hurt you even if I tried.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Rhian asked. “I’d never try to hurt Stryg. I like being connected to him, we watch each other’s backs.”
“It’s not just Stryg, Rhiannon!” Lysaila hissed. “Every single son and daughter of Mortem can command us at will and we can do nothing to stop it, nothing! What do you think will happen when Mortem’s scions, the ones who used us as pawns in their wars, find us? Do you think they will be your friend like Stryg? Huh!?
“I… I didn’t think about that,” Rhian mumbled.
“Of course, you didn’t! Because you’re a brainless idiot who only cares about being a hero like those stupid children stories Karen tells to the orphans! We’ll guess what, Rhiannon? We’re tools! That’s all we are! Tools for the cruel gods that made us. ”
“Lysaila, that’s enough,” Stryg said.
But the lamia pushed on. “When a Mortem scion appears at your doorstep, you won’t be able to stop them from sending you off to fight for their wars until you’re dead. Which turns out, will be the actual end for us. We don’t get reincarnated like everyone else, because it turns out we’re not even really alive!”
Rhian’s cheeks had grown red and she bit her trembling lip as she struggled not to cry. Lysaila stopped at the sight, her shoulders heaving from her anger and lack of breath.
“I’m sorry,” Stryg said. “I understand why you’re angry, but it’s not Rhian’s fault. Don’t take it out on her.”
“You don’t understand…” Lysaila turned her back on them. “What this really means for us. For all of us. My family,” her voice cracked, “They’re all dead… and they’re not coming back. They’re gone, forever.”
“I…” Stryg’s words failed him. What could he say? How could he respond to such a tragedy?
“How do we stop it?” Lysaila asked quietly.
“Stop it?” Stryg asked.
“How do we break this hold Mortem has on us? Remove his power from our bloodlines?”
Stryg cleared his throat. “You can’t. My father’s power is what gives you a connection to the World Soul. Without it, you’ll all die.”
Lysaila stiffened. “What did you say?”
“Without my father’s power, all the beastkin will die,” Stryg replied reluctantly.
“Does Holo know?” Lysaila whispered.
“I’m not sure, but my father said she did.”
“I need to go.” Lysaila slithered out of the room without another word.
“…I think I’m alive,” Rhian mumbled.
Stryg broke into a smile and hugged her, his arms barely reaching up around her waist. “You are alive.”
“I’m your friend, right?” Rhian swallowed hard. “Not just a tool?”
“Rhiannon.” He looked up and met her eyes. “You have never been a tool. You are my family and that’s never going to change.”
Her lips tugged at the edges with the faintest hint of a smile. “We’re the Ebon Tribe?”
“Always.”
~~~
Holo was in her office, skimming through a stack of papers regarding the reconstruction of Hollow Shade and the weak points of integrity found in the wall. After the Sylvan army left yesterday, Holo had been flooded with paperwork and reports from guards patrolling the now unoccupied neighborhoods.
Holo heard Lysaila barrelling her way through the hallways long before she saw her. The door slammed open and Lysalia rushed in. “How long have you known!?” she demanded.
“About?” Holo replied without breaking her calm composure.
“That my kind can’t be set free. That it isn’t a curse. Mortem’s power, your power, runs through our bodies. It’s what keeps us alive, and without it, we’ll die.”
Holo sighed. “My father told me such a thing once, yes.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me? You’d rather lie and manipulate me all so I could do your bidding like a dog!?”
“If I wanted to force you to do my bidding, all I’d have to do is command you. Sit,” Holo gestured to the chair in front of her desk.
The word ran through Lysaila’s body with a shiver and she found her body moving of its own accord as she sat down on the chair. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Proving my point. That was a simple command enforced upon your body. Now, I could take over your mind and make it so that all you think about is wanting to obey my every word and you’d relish every second of it. But I won’t, because like you, I’m searching for a way to break the beastkin free from their curse.”
“Don’t ever command me like that again,” Lysaila growled.
“Gladly. Now, as for the nature of your curse. We still don’t know the entire truth. Sure, my father claims there is nothing that can be done about it, but so was the concept of creating life, and yet here you are. I swear to you, I will never give up on finding a way to free you and every other beastkin, Lysaila.”
“And why should I believe you after everything?”
“Because believe it or not, as your grandmother, I do, in fact, care for you.”
“You’re not my grandmother.”
“Eh, several generations removed,” she added as an afterthought.
“You are my species’ creator, it’s not the same.”
“I raised the first lamia as my own daughter. I rocked her to sleep as she cried every night. I was there when she spoke her first words. I was there every step of her life. She was my daughter and I was her mother. I loved her. Do you have any idea what it was like to see the light in her eyes disappear when my father activated his ‘curse’ and she became a lifeless soldier in his army? The first beastkin were all my children; I raised every single one of them, and they were taken from me.”
“I didn’t know…”
“Why would you?” Holo smiled weakly. “I ordinarily try to distance myself from beastkins. It’s easier to pretend as if I do not care what happens to them, because when I look at you, I am reminded of all I’ve lost. But I want you to know, I have been searching for a way to break the curse long before you were born and I will never stop until you are free from it. Even if it costs me my life, I will never stop fighting.”
“What was she like?” Lysaila whispered. “The first lamia?”
“She was kind. She never wanted to hurt a soul. She loved to paint. You were not made to be soldiers, Lysaila. You were made to live.”
A knock brought their attention away and they looked up in unison. Kaitlin, the chief healer of the Singing Willow Troupe, stood in the doorway. “Hey, Captain, sorry to interrupt. One of our own just brought in a report I think you’d like to see.”
“Show it to me.” Holo gestured for her to come in.
Kaitlin gave a quick nod to Lysaila and handed Holo a slip of paper. “Some of the southern guards were on patrol and found a 6-meter deep pit of sorts under a ruined house in the Commoner District. They think it was dug during the siege. There were a bunch of arcane sigils on the pit’s walls. The local barracks’ mage couldn’t make sense of the sigils. He copied a few and had one of the guards send it up the ladder. Our people intercepted it and gave it to me. The thing is, I couldn’t make sense of the sigils either. Any idea what they are?”
“This is a highly advanced and complex concealment arcane lattice.” Holo narrowed her eyes. “What were they hiding?”
“No idea. Want me to send in a party?”
“No. They wouldn’t be able to understand it. I’ll go myself. Lysaila, forgive me, but we’ll have to continue this conversation some other time. Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. Kaitlin will keep you company. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Holo inclined her head in an apology, then Flickered out of the room, leaving behind a shower of orange sparks.
Kaitlin glanced at Lysaila. “So, wanna get a drink?”
She sighed. “…Yeah. I think I do.”
~~~
Holo found a couple of guards standing outside the shattered walls and caved-in roof that had once been a home. She walked up to them and showed them a writ that stated she was the right hand of the Southern Bulwark Commander, a convenient lie that made it so nobody asked questions. No one wanted to get on the bad side of Commander Stonehand.
The soldiers straightened up as they read the writ and quickly moved out of the way. Holo stepped under the broken doorway and watched her head as she made her way through the ruins.
No wonder nobody had found the pit. This place was a hazard, bound to fall apart any day. It was a miracle that anything was still standing. Holo stepped into what she assumed was once a bedroom and found the pit. It was a small hole, only a meter wide. She leaped down without hesitation.
Holo landed on her feet with a heavy thud and glanced around. She was mildly surprised to find it widened significantly the deeper down it went. The bottom was as large as the entire house. Her eyes shifted to their natural lilac color and the darkness faded away, revealing countless arcane sigils over the walls.
“What is this…?” Holo marveled at the sight. This wasn’t the work of a couple of barbarians during the siege. No, this level of complex sigil work would have taken weeks of painstakingly careful planning. Only someone of incredible arcane skill and knowledge could have accomplished this. It would take a few minutes for Holo to even begin to understand its purpose.
The concealment sigils she had seen earlier in her office now began to make more sense. Whatever this was, its creator didn’t want anyone to find it. “What were you trying to hide?” she muttered.
“You,” came a voice from above.
Holo glanced upwards and saw the two guards from earlier standing by the edge of the pit. Before she could react, the sigils flared to life, and a deafening shriek assaulted her sensitive hearing. Holo grimaced and held her ears, and reflexively Flickered away. Her orange mana surged throughout her body, but when the sparks faded, she found herself in the same spot.
Blue flames wrapped around her arms and she threw her hands outwards. The flames crashed into the walls and surged up the pit. A magical barrier manifested over the hole and blocked the flames from escaping. As the smoke cleared, the walls appeared unscathed. And still, the screeching shriek remained, disorientating her.
“Heed my call, Lyrae!”
The once strong connection Holo felt with her orichalcum spear was nowhere to be found. She reached out to the weapon bound to her soul but there was no answer. Holo fell to her knees, head in her hands, and cried out in pain.
“Inform them the first phase is complete,” said one of the false guards.
The other nodded and left.
