A palace beyond

Places below, Fourth Ring

Annabelle was struggling on the inside. She let Tharia continue the conversation while she was left to the whirling chaos of thoughts inside of her. She fought against the sensations the palace brought her. With each pulse, there came a curious clarity of mind. It was an euphoric rush she thirsted for. At first, the pulse healed her wounds, no matter how tiny. In time it brought back an aspect of understanding she had lost when she fell. The letters of the cursed tongue no longer escaped from her view and she let her gaze wander. The words on the door communicated the concept of a True Vessel while the plant itself had been inscribed with a concept of harvest.

This was what the gods really were, what she had been at some point too: Cruel beyond measure. She understood it now as the energy surged through her and awakened fragments of her divine self. All that mattered back then was a carefully curated act. It was all to get close to humans, to instill them with hope and then harvest their emotions as they fell to despair. This was a part of her memory that hadn’t made sense until now. Why did she have fond memories of suffering people? It was because her kind thrived on passions. Everything they did, they did to instill even stronger passions in people. Religious zeal, incomparable lust, elation over miracles, the gratefulness at having been healed – it all served passion.

With this clarity, there also came a realization. She had broken through. Those feelings inside of her were her own. She did love Tharia now, it wasn’t just a parasitic make pretend. Yet what defined divinity? Absolute power over creation. The power to keep a man alive against his will for what amounted to centuries of suffering.

“We should fulfill his wish”, Annabelle said when the conversation reached a quiet point. The man quickly nodded.

“I would appreciate that very much”, he replied.

Tharia looked at her and then nodded. In reaction, Annabelle moved her scythe to the side. Getting into a combat stance was second nature to her. She opted for a quick slash from her right and twisted her torso into it. Air sang as the blade cut through it, yet the delicacy of the sound was cut short by an ugly crunch as the weapon cut straight through his neck. It fell to the ground where it stared up at her with empty eyes.

“I’m sorry for what my kind did to you”, Annabelle said and felt a sudden knot in her stomach as the body remained standing and the head dissolved into a golden light. Pulse after pulse soured into the corpse until the head reappeared on his neck. A shudder followed and he was alive once more. He looked at Annabelle with pleading eyes.

“We need to somehow cut him off from the palace”

Tharia bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms around her own chest. Her nose had a cute wrinkle and her eyebrows were narrowed. She suddenly sucked in air through her lips and smiled.

“Can you take a step back, I think I know how to do this but for it to work, you can’t be near”, Tharia said and while she spoke, she started to unwind the chain from her arm. The center piece she placed at the feet of the naked man while trying her best to not look at what was in front of her. Annabelle noticed a slight muscle tension in her own face and realized she was grinning. Shaking her head, she stepped outside of the ring her friend created with the chain. It didn’t take long before Tharia knelt down inside the barrier chain and raised her voice.

“Holy Bethany, I seek your protection. Come forth and let none through. Pay special attention to the energy of the divine”

A familiar dome sprang up from the arms of the chain. With the energy of the constant pulses, Annabelle could read the letters shaping around it. This chain really had been part of a palace at some point. Although it was dedicated to a god she had never heard of. Tharia was still chewing on her lower lip and Annabelle judged that without the spark inside of her, she would probably be bleeding all day long. Still, the two women looked at the plant.

The barrier had cut clean through its tendrils and the flower had regenerated them already once the next pulse came. It tried to return to the man but couldn’t get through the barrier. This was working. Tharia then got up from the ground and reached for the rapier.

“I really don’t enjoy this. Are you sure death is what you seek?” she asked. The man just nodded and Tharia drove the rapier straight through his chest. She had aimed well as the man quickly died. A rest of golden energy sprang up from the detached plant tendrils still inside the barrier but it wasn’t enough to bring the man back. The second he breathed his last, the palace suddenly shuddered.

At the far end of the room, the flower bulb opened up and unleashed a torrent of tendrils against the barrier. Spurned by explosive growth, it quickly enveloped the entire barrier from all sides, even below as sudden bumps in the ground could attest. Annabelle made a quick forward step and used her momentum to strike her scythe against the plants. She cut off a whole swath of tendrils and momentarily saw into the barrier, yet more growth covered up the hole.

“Keep up the barrier”, Annabelle shouted, not knowing whether Tharia heard her, “I’ll deal with this unruly palace”

She stumbled back and each step she gave was quickly conquered by an ever-growing plant. Soon, Annabelle stood outside the room and a thick web of plant matter pulled shut the door behind her. The goddess didn’t have time to ponder this, as a spear suddenly buzzed past her face. She blinked and stepped back by instinct, only to be clipped by another spear. A sharp but unimportant pang of pain followed.

Annabelle saw a construct out of the corner of her eyes and quickly gained distance. It was a curious thing that had attacked her. Three metallic cones formed the legs while overgrown, cancerous looking flesh coalesced into a knot in the middle. A sphere of golden light pulsed from within the constructs and three multi-jointed metal arms held onto a selection of long spears. Two of which had drawn blood already, the third suddenly stabbed forward.

She hurriedly dodged to the side and just barely dodged a second spear. Uttering a curse she had picked up from Tharia, Annabelle weaved her way into the range of the spears and brought about her own Scythe. She twisted her torso for a horizontal cut and dislodged two of the arms and felt the blade bite into the golden sphere. The construct spasmed in place before falling to the ground.

Another pulse washed over her and she felt the tiny wounds close up again. Yet the construct at her feet started to reassemble itself as well. Annabelle slammed the handle into the sphere and turned it into a fine paste before it could reform. She then ran towards the end of the corridor. There weren’t many places the heart could be, especially with half of the place trashed.

The door gave her a momentary pause, it was stuck in a position that was half open. Using her scythe for leverage, she forced it open all the way, yet that proved almost fatal. Three spears suddenly punched straight through her abdomen. She stumbled forward with extreme pain and slid off the weapons. The pain really was too much to go on. Yet with the next pulse, the wounds closed enough for her to get back up on her feet. She brought the scythe around and caught two of the spears while the third stabbed right past her. Her eyes focused on the core inside the flesh. It too had regenerated.

Annabelle carefully moved back while checking the room around her. It was a long hallway with pillars in regular intervals. She saw hundreds of beds situated around a central path. Many of them were inclined half-way with flower bulbs attached to them. These flowers lay dormant at least. A grate ran underneath the beds and gave Annabelle a sudden idea. She once more focussed on the construct. It hobbled in her direction, seeing it walk on those metal legs was unsettling. It moved with jerking motions, one of the legs even dragged behind but despite all that, it had surprising speed.

She waited for the golden pulse to heal the remaining damage and then dashed towards the construct. It used all three of the spears to cover its body by keeping them in constant motion. Annabelle didn’t falter in her approach, she stormed directly for the core. One spear suddenly stabbed towards her but since she saw it coming, she sidestepped it easily. The second one stabbed towards her, she used the blunt side of her scythe to deflect it but the impact wrested the weapon from her hands. At no one’s surprise, the third spear impaled her all the way through.

The goddess let out a loud scream and pushed on, forcing the spear deeper into her. Once she was close up, she grit her teeth and then held a hand towards the core of the construct. A war-fan appeared in an eruption of golden light and materialized directly inside the construct-core. Like before the strange being fell to the ground. With the spear still inside her, she collapsed on the ground and forced open the fan. She then patiently awaited the next pulse. It sent renewed agony through her body as the light couldn’t expel the spear in one go.

It could, however, reshape the core of the construct. This time she flipped open the war-fan and cut it out of the flesh with the blade-side. Holding the pulsating sphere in her hands, she scrambled over towards the grates and while clenching her teeth, she jammed the sphere through the metal bars and into whatever was below.

With fading strength, she then reached for the spear and forced it out of her body. It fell to the ground with a clang while another pulse finally healed the damage. A cheeky grin found its way on her lips as the sphere reformed into the construct. It was locked underneath the grate and slammed it’s metal limbs against its prison.

“To quote a friend, fuck you, your family and the high horse you came in on”, Annabelle said and ran a finger along her lips. Cursing really felt strange to her but she couldn’t deny a certain joy in doing so. Still, she would keep it to a limit. The goddess got back up and then made her way down the hallway. The beds were a depressing sight, many of them had stained sheets but only a few seemed to have been used recently at least. Her eyes saw metal clasps and name tags on many of these beds. She recognized some of the names. They belonged to children of nobility that had suddenly disappeared from public view.

One bed still had an inhabitant and the view made Annabelle nauseous. Whatever had been in it, was now in eternal agony. The skin lay flat on the reclined bed. She only knew it had been a human once because the skeleton lay on the ground, beside the suffering creature. It looked like it had been expelled one bone at a time. She had to fight off the queasy feeling by focussing on the path ahead.

Tharia had forced her eyes shut. She felt incomprehensible panic flood her senses and couldn’t understand why. During her time in the capital, she had seen worse and suffered worse. A sudden touch on her skin made her jump back until her back brushed against the barrier. Her eyes flew open and looked straight at a featureless golden woman. Even without eyes or a mouth, it looked straight at her.

“The prodigal child returns”, the shape said.

“Holy Bethany, expel all that doesn’t belong”, she shouted, but the shape of her trusty barrier sat on the ground, inactive. At least it kept the dome going. The golden figure swayed to the side and then suddenly leaped forward. Tharia suddenly felt glowing hands on her cheek.

Within a breath, she found herself in a strange place. Someone dragged her along by her arm, she noticed how thin it was and how small her fingers had become. When she shook her head, long black hair flowed down her shoulders. She hadn’t worn out her hair since she was a young teenager.

The hand that dragged her along was filled with odd detail. She saw every pore and wrinkle in it, yet the rest of the body disappeared into a vague shape. Her ears heard a sudden distorted voice.

“Your cruelty seems inspired”, it said.

She tried to make out who was talking but only saw a shape. Another voice answered and she felt her young teenage body shudder with fear.

“Of course it is. This thing here has no worth. It may further our purposes or perish, both are equally beneficial”, the voice said.

“Papa?” young Tharia spoke with a whimper and tears on her cheeks.

“Put that thing on the bed, let’s begin with the ascension process”, her father said without paying her any further attention. Adult Tharia noticed that his face lacked all detail, safe for that mustache that had always intimidated her. Her young body was suddenly lifted off the ground and pushed into one of the reclined beds. Metal clasps forced it into place.

“Papa!?” young Tharia screamed.

Another person suddenly stepped into view. It too was just a formless shape until it spoke with a voice adult Tharia had come to hate.

“This is not how this must go, Mister Verholden”, the Muse said. His figure suddenly became focussed. He looked like a younger version of himself. The hair still had color in it too.

“You know very well that the subject must agree to it, or failure is guaranteed. Unless you wish to sabotage this one for the sake of your cultivated neglect”, the Muse chastised her father.

"She's only here because that divine brat gave her a fragment of power", her father snarled but then sighed in exasperation.

All that time, the young girl had struggled with her bindings. The wrists hurt and so did her legs. Yet when a sudden strong scent filled her nostrils, she held completely still. A face with a mustache appeared in front of her. It was featureless at first but then memory quickly pieced in the details. The saw the disdain on it, the hatred this man felt for her. How she had disappointed him, how useless she had always been to everyone around her. How vile her existence was, to be of no use to anyone.

“Very well then. Child. Your divine friend left you for dead. She couldn’t stand your pathetic whining and your pitiable weakness. Me? I’m a generous father but I’ve got limits too. I offer you a chance to earn my affection and win back your friend you so dearly and foolishly love. Do you want to be strong? Do you seek a use in life?”

Adult Tharia was disgusted at what she saw but her younger self agreed with hope flooding her senses. Both versions saw her father turn around with a smug expression.

“Happy now, Zuresti?” he said and walked away.

Time passed. She had no idea how long. A golden figure suddenly appeared hovering above her. It floated down until it touched her skin and without even giving pause, the golden figure poured into her. Crushing agony pulsed through her every vein and made her small body thrash on the bed.

In the midst of the pain, she felt someone force open her hand. Something ticklish was poured into it. Young Tharia stared with feverish eyes at the visage of the Muse.

“Consider this a favor repaid. Mother Bone, wake from your aeon slumber”, he said and forced her hand shut around the earth, “Sing your lullaby for this girl, so that she may yet live. Cure her heart and help her mind, carry her through the coming storm”

The face of the Muse disappeared into a vague shape and then dissolved entirely. She suddenly found herself in an ancient forest. The agony quickly faded away. Trees the size of mountains raised far above her. Majestic creatures snaked their way through the forest, everything was in motion with primal energy. She saw a lone crone sit on a slab of stone. Her coat was made of earth with bones woven into it. The old one looked up and her eyes stared directly through the teenage Tharia until it felt like they looked straight at the adult mind inside. Tharia was suddenly ejected from her younger self. When next she opened her eyes, she was back in the barrier. The plant was still trying to crush through it, but the golden figure cradled Tharia's body as a mother would. Tharia quickly moved away from it.

“What did you show me?”

“Your memories. The old one locked them away. She did it to help you - I understand. But a mother does not accept strangers stealing her child”, the golden figure said with sudden anger.

Tharia leaned back into the barrier and sorted her thoughts. All things considered, this was just another string pulling the puppet along. She grinned with bitter emotions overwhelming her. How had Mother Bone called it? You chose, you became? Yeah sure, that was one way to look at it, Tharia thought. Manipulative scumbags. She made a mental note to visit her father too - preferably with a long rifle and enough shots for a day or two.

“So what am I?”

“A true vessel and a failure. The first one to survive ascension during this era. Yet you were broken with no power of your own and then those thieves took you from me before I could nurture you”, the golden figure suddenly wrapped her arms around the neck of the Holy Bethany.

“It’s time this ends”, the figure said and then started to choke the spirit of the barrier.

Annabelle stepped into a large dome-like structure. This was without a doubt the heart of the palace. A living crystal formed the foundation inside a several meter long pool. It moved with a purpose of its own, a creature in constant motion and never-ending creation of new crystalline formations. In the center, the crystal formed a throne on which there sat a stark naked woman with flowing golden hair. Somehow, the hair covered all the cliché spots while golden pulses emanated from her.

Chains attached to the throne locked the woman in place but they had some leeway that the stranger woman used to suddenly float towards the edge of the pool. She moved with a weightless grace until her face appeared in front of Annabelle.

“You’re broken”, the woman said with a distorted voice.

“So are you. Your palace is in shambles”, Annabelle replied.

“True”, the core said with a smile, “These days, few things aren’t. Have you come to enjoy the last hours of this slave?”

Annabelle shook her head, “I’ve come to help my love”

The core suddenly floated up and then raced around the corner of the pool, always held by eight chains preventing her from going far. She flew a loop and then appeared before Annabelle again, this time she floated upside down.

“Really now?” the living crystal started to shape into sharp spears “A goddess that feels for someone? What manner of a joke is this? This is the third time your kind has broken this world. Each time you come back, you piece together the shambles and then break it further. In all those aeons, none of your kind has ever had feelings of their own”

“I don’t quite know myself”, Annabelle said and held out her hand. The scythe manifested itself in front of her eyes, “I will however not leave without my friend. You will free her”

The core floated back into the center of the room. Underneath her, the crystal reformed into a throne and she placed down in it. During all this, the hair never once allowed a look underneath the places it covered. The pulsing stopped. Golden energy collected within the nude frame of the woman and pretty soon, it lost all definition and detail to turn into a living pyre of divine energy. The floating humanoid fire tore on the chains and broke free one edge. The living crystal shuddered in response, it quickly grew upwards to snatch the end of the chain but the bright fire burned it away.

“So much death within my halls”, the core said and tore out a second arm of the chain.

“Children, adults, humans, pets”, she continued and let out a rumbling growl.

“I no longer care. None of my family live. I’ve just killed the last one. Poor Bethany, a soul bewitched by the lies of thieving gods”, the core said and grinned - visible by a shadowy gap in the flames. Another pair of chains was pulled free. The remaining crystal started to peel away as the sprite tugged on the chains. The burning female figure stretched her arms and legs, flames dripped off her skin and scorched the earth underneath. With a metallic clang, the last of the anchors came undone. The spirit gracefully glided towards Annabelle. Her words took on a low rumbling tone.

“Have you ever faced the fury of an elemental?”

End: To repay a favor | Coming up: The last dance of the firesprite.