《A Tower Of Dreams》Chapter Sixteen
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“I’m guessing that’s our destination, Erin? That’s a pretty damn nifty looking villa. While it’s a bit secluded, though I suppose that’s to expected of something in the middle of a forest, and doesn’t have the luxurious vineyards or gardens, it’s beautifully built. We’ll be meeting up with the others, and staying here for a little while, I assume?”
Running my eyes up and down the gorgeously designed manor sitting in the clearing, nodding my head in approval and admiration at the flying buttresses, the sprawling towers, adorned with steeples and fleches, all marble white, gleaming in the sunlight.
“Arata, lass, I don’t know how to break this kind of news to ye, and I’m really sorry to disappoint ye like this, but, lass, that’s not a villa.. That’s an outhouse.”
Glancing back in forth between the exquisite work of gothic architecture and the titan in equal parts confusion and disbelief, I began staring at the titan, and felt my face twitch in unison with my ears as the titan maintained an expression of complete seriousness.
“..Erin, you’re pulling my leg, right?”
“In all honesty, lass, that’s an outhouse. While it does have a large communal bath, it is primarily, an outhouse. Ye won’t find a kitchen, beds, or much of anything, though there is no lack of water. And while there are two wine racks for those enjoying the bath, Arata, it’s mostly just a big outhouse.”
My tails curled tightly around each other as a sudden urge to grab a knife and go find architects to chop into pieces came over me, and I blinked as the titan gave me a comforting pat on the back.
“Bringing marble from the quarries of Languedoc-Rousillon all the way to Retz, just to build the sixth most extravagant outhouse in the Lands of Hel, is asking for it, aye. So if ye’re feeling like ye’ve been overwhelmed by a raging bloodlust, and want to take a sword to cut the builders up, ye need not worry. Because, lass, we’d all be cheering ye on, not to mention that we already did that. Twice. But anyway, lass, our goal is what’s beneath it, rather than the outhouse itself.. Speaking of which, Arata, are ye fine with being underneath the ground for a while?”
“..Why on earth is there some kind of secret hideout underneath an outhouse of all things? Who in their right mind would build a secret hideout beneath an outhouse? Actually, wait, scratch that question, someone that’d build an outhouse to the standard of a palace definitely has something wrong in their head.. Also, Erin.. You said that this was only the sixth most extravagant and luxurious outhouse in the Lands of Hel? Is there some kind of stupid competition of some sort about who can have most ridiculous toilet and bathroom in the word?”
“Not quite a competition, lass, though monumental stupidity does tend to run quite thickly among those with more wealth than what they know what to do with. Which, Arata, results in things like this embarrassment to architecture. The crazier part, lass, is that they built it over an entrance to the Underways of Lumiere, which, by the way, get infested with monsters every now and then. And let me tell ye, lass, nobody wants monsters crawling out from an outhouse, nobody.”
Shaking my head in equal parts amazement, disbelief, and confusion, I followed the titan in. As we stepped through the ornately carved marble doorway, Erin pulled an emerald green crystal and a weirdly shaped metal trinket from one of his belt pouches, and in a smooth motion, fit the two together.
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Tails flicking back, eyes and mouth opening wide in surprise, I watched as the trinket lit up with a verdant glow, and the expertly chiseled marble floor rippled like a disturbed pond, peeling open like a blooming flower. In the next moment, the white liquid bubbled, and began forming stairs that seemed to float in the air, each covered with a complex pattern of runes, lines, and a variety of spiraling shapes, all aglow.
“..Fuck my divine ass and call it a day, now thatʻs what I call magic.”
Pouting and folding my arms beneath my breasts as my companion burst out into uproarious laughter, I hesitantly stepped down onto the marble stair, the emerald light pulsed, and I gathered my courage, continuing my descent while trying to ignore the sheer overwhelming mirth right behind me.
“Arata, lass, yeʻre hilarious. Thatʻs no more than an entrance to an Underway Rail, ye donʻt need to react with such amazement, though it is cute. Also, Arata, if ye keep saying that kind of thing, ye can bet yer beautiful behind that someone will take you up on it sooner or later.”
“Oi, Erin. Itʻs just a figure of speech, and it only slipped out because I was really surprised. I donʻt have much experience with magic, thatʻs all. So donʻt go saying stuff like that in reply, youʻll get my hopes.. Erm, fuck. That came out completely wrong, ignore that, that was not a freudian slip, definitely not. Anyway, as I was saying, Iʻm a chaste, dignified, modest, and noble maiden, how could I possibly be so easily-”
“Lass, I hate to break it to ye, there are lies that nobody will believe, even if a pretty goddess is the one telling it.”
Pausing to glare over my shoulder at the titan who interrupted me to unhesitatingly rend my heart, I sighed as the titan simply shrugged and smiled. With an exaggerated harrumph, I looked away, and continued my descent.
“Bah, donʻt be like that. For a werebeast, ye have remarkable self restraint, but lass.. Not even a lovestruck idiot could believe a kvinnorav thatʻd describe herself that way. While ye might be able do noble and dignified if ye really put the effort into it, yeʻd have an easier time convincing someone that Cu Chulainn is a pacifist than find anyone who would believe a kvinnorav that claimed she was chaste or modest.”
Feeling somewhat stifled as the reality of my having chosen to become a foxgirl came back to mercilessly bite me in the ass, I refrained from replying, allowing my ears and tails to droop in sadness. As I neared the bottom of the staircase, the floor beneath lit up with the same soft green glow, tracing patterns of light down a spacious tunnel, illuminating walls decorated with murals which glimmered in the light.
Hopping down past the last two stairs to the ground, I looked around, as a childish feeling of excitement and adventure quickly banished my feelings of remorse, and immersed myself in the beautiful art with admiration.
“Pretty, aren’t they, lass? They tell a part of the sorrowful tale of the most tragic Halven to ever walk the land, The People’s Democratically Chosen Kindly Virtuous Prime Supreme Benevolent Comraderly Thaumaturgic High Grand Alkahestikal Ducal Reptilian Brigadier Prince Nikolas Montauk Xigxigune Wilkan Wehrkelsiusberger Diablos Numern Eihn Schith Luord Yaar Yaar Binka Cironachulain Von Dunkelheit Schnitzelmacht Fremel, also known as The Weeping Prince, and his ill fated love of a Shard.”
“Erin, if this were a little while ago, I’d wholeheartedly believe you’re bullshitting me right now. Because that sounds so bad that not even the current dictator of Italy would use it. Though after everything you guys have told me about this world, getting killed by a sensual spider woman thing and discovering my apparent divinity as the derriere goddess upon resurrecting.. Aside from the insanity of the title, that’s someone’s real name and title isn’t it? There’s actually someone in this world who’s so far out of the realm of sanity to give someone a name like that?”
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“Ye should already know that by now, lass, other than The Great Cock, who else? Who else could dig out enough cruelty from the deepest, foulest pits of their cold, black, merciless hearts to go and give someone a title and name like that?”
Nodding in understanding as the titan shed enlightenment on the subject matter, I flicked my ears back in sympathy, and gave a small bow, of equal parts respect, pity, and sympathy to the half-lizard half-man depicted on the wall.
“Then again, with how mad ye’d have to be to fall in love with a Shard, ye really can’t tell if it was The Great Cock’s cruelty or his own madness that gave him that name. Heartless monsters that want nothing but to harm hardly make for lovers.”
Ignoring the titan’s comment about the questionable sanity of the tragic Halven prince, I chose to believe in the power of love, the beauty of romance, and that the vile rooster was at blame for all wrong things in the world. Walking down the tunnel ahead of the titan as I read the murals, my excitement waned and my pace slowed, as the story depicted by the murals slowly turned from romantic to morbid.
Feeling my face twitch as I read on, as the prince with way too many names died to the Shard again and again, attempting the sway the massive, beautiful, three legged monster’s heart with increasingly insane acts. As the story delved deeper and deeper into madness, I felt a shudder crawl down my spine and into my tails, as I read how the man fused his body to the Shard’s, his face pressed between her breasts, his arms and legs fused into her body, keeping her from using her arms and legs against him, and his crotch pressed up against the Shard’s in what appeared to be coitus.
Continuing my reading of the vividly detailed murals in more horror than anything else, the story came to its conclusion, as the Shard snapped its neck backwards and chewed through its own torso to kill the prince, before melting away, leaving nothing but a puddle of ichor and green crystals. After the man resurrected, he wept, until his tears formed a lake, in which he drowned. Repeatedly resurrecting, crying, and drowning in his own tears.
Regretting everything as I rediscovered the meaning of nightmare fuel, I turned to the titan with a pleading expression, asking the one question to which I wholeheartedly wished I could get a proper answer.
“..Erin, please, please, please tell me that you have brain bleach. Or some kind of magic that can erase my memories. Or that you can make me forget what just happened by killing me. What kind of psychopath comes up with a story like that, much less makes murals out of it!”
“Sorry to tell ye this, Arata, but it’s a true story, sad as it is. Though, I ought to let ye know that the murals were painted by the same lunatics who built the outhouse, and they left out some of the most important parts of the story, which makes it look a good bit worse than it actually is, lass. It was a shockingly dramatic romantic tragedy, with a mad prince, and a beautiful monster, culminating in heartbreak and betrayal that made even the Orcish Playwright Shookspear bow in defeat.”
Cocking my head slightly sideways in equal parts curiosity and confusion from the titan’s statement, I gestured with one of my tails for him to continue speaking, to which Erin shrugged, before gently patting me on the back as a signal to resume walking.
“Anyway, these terrible murals were the final straw for why we ended up chopping up the builders a second time. Aside from why they were cut to pieces, the tale of The Weeping Prince is a very long and rather complex story that teaches a few valuable lessons, mainly one of how deceiving appearances can be, especially that of a monster, lass, and it’s much easier to understand it if ye watch a a play of it, or a recording of a play, rather than have someone explain it.
But for a simple summary of the lesson, lass, it’s that ye shouldn’t trust any kind of monster, behemoth, or leviathan, regardless of how cute and benign they may seem. Because ye really don’t want to be the next unlucky person to carelessly discover something new that’s as vile as the Armur.. Or worse, something like an Odr.”
Slowly nodding as I mentally processed the titan’s statement, I paused, and raised an eyebrow in question as a realization hit me.
“That reminds me, Erin, you never explained what’s so vile about the Armur things. If it looks like whatever it was I ran into, sure, it’s kinda scary, but what makes them so awful that everybody must commit alien spider genocide on sight? And I’m guessing that even worse thing smells unbelievably bad, which is why it’s called an Odor?”
“..Nay, lass, nay, though ye’re making me more and more curious about how yer head works. Armur are not, an.. Easy conversation for many. To tell ye the gist of it, the things have a venomous bite that will make ye really sensitive and unable to move. But the worst part is what comes after that, they’re known as the vile ones because the damned things will try to force their way into yer innards, with a known preference for a lass’s womb.. Mind ye, they try to force their way in through an orifice, and if it can’t, the Armur will just try again with a different one until it does. And then the things eat ye from the inside and grow into either of the second stages of Armur.”
Wincing as the sheer repulsiveness of the concept of creature set in, I froze in alarm as my every mental warning siren started going off in unison as the contents in the back of my mind clicked into place, while my tail fur began to stand on end.
‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck my goddamn divine ass, that thing that ate my window and showed up in my kitchen was either a fever dream’s equivalent of a rat or a womb invading horror from a total psychopath’s imagination. And knowing my luck, plus my experiences with this world so far, it was the nightmarish horror.. Huh, now that I think about it, how the fuck did a virtual reality’s horror end up in my kitchen?
If.. If somebody had the money, tools, logistics, skill to build a virtual world and bait people into getting altered into something that’s definitely not human, without even causing any severe Genemod sickness, what can’t they do? A couple of idiots decades ago were able to create the wendigoes that’ve been a total mess of an infestation in the rural areas and near the Frontiers, how far could some actually skilled lunatic go with money, access to an industrial biofab, and-’
Shaking my head to clear away the train of thought that was starting to venture into the realm of paranoia and conspiracy theories that were likely to be true, I slapped my thigh, and took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly, gesturing for the titan to continue speaking as I gave him my best apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry yer pretty little head about what ye saw the other day, lass, what ye saw was likely an Althjoth, not an Armur, as where ye find one Armur, ye’ll likely find many more. The Armur are hive monsters. And even if there were an Armur Hive, Arata, not even an Armur Einvaldi can survive Veina Iae’s passage. Anyway, to answer yer second question, Arata, the Odr do not have a stench, nor are they vile horrors like the Armur.”
Staring blankly up at Erin as I found myself suddenly feeling a lot less safe about my own home, and grabbed onto the titan’s hand tightly. Fidgeting nervously, I began trying very hard to not start panicking at the thought of a hive of alien-like womb invading nightmarish horrors building a hive somewhere near my house in the real world.
“To describe what an Odr is.. Well, lass, imagine a foul tempered lioness who has been mercilessly rejected during mating season, shove a cactus up her rear, give her a bomb with the power to ruin entire cities, and ye pretty much have an idea of what an Odr is like.”
“Y’know, Erin, that’s.. That’s.. Really, uhm, a unique way to describe something.”
“It’s an accurate description, lass. And if ye’re that nervous about Armur, Arata, let me tell ye, a bag of bricks is more cunning than they are. Here’s a fairly simple method to deal with them. Dig a big hole, hang some roasted meat over it, and come back later. While the Armur Drotinn and Armur Einvaldi are too large for that to work unless it’s really damn big and deep, ye’ll find that Armur and Armur Geyma will quickly fall in, and be too stupid to climb out.”
‘Why does this feel like I got all excited over what seemed to me like a really scary horror game only to find out that it’s as buggy as Fallout Vaultus Seventy Six, and has a lootbox based progression system?’
Blinking as the titan easily dispelled my feelings of dread and horror towards the womb raiding spidery terrors, I felt relieved, and weirdly disappointed for some reason I couldn’t understand. Walking in silence alongside the titan, I soon found myself standing in front of a dead end.
“Arata, lass, while this may look like a tunnel’s end to ye, ye wanted to see magic, right? Or perhaps, would ye like to be the one to use a magical tool? To see what’s really ahead of ye?”
Nodding hastily as a single sentence set me ablaze with excitement, I looked up pleadingly at the titan, tails wagging with anticipation. Chuckling, the titan opened up one of his belt pouches, and held out the same odd metal trinket I had seen earlier, along with the green crystal.
“While it ain’t like most outsiders seem to expect, lass, with fancy sticks, chanting, and throwing big balls of fire at things, put the Krion piece into the socket to activate it.. And if ye thought what ye saw earlier was impressive, ye can wholeheartedly look forward to seeing this..”
Taking a deep breath as I gingerly took the items from his hands, I held it up high, and pressed the emerald green crystal in place. The next moment, the trinket lit up, glowing in my hand, and I nearly dropped it as the world before me seemingly unraveled.
A massive, pulsing, green ring, blazing like flame, seemingly cut through the surface of the stone wall ahead of me, and within it, everything seemed to squeeze together for a moment, then elongate, as the distance between me and the stone wall seemed to stretch and grow with neither me or the wall moving.
Seeing something out of the corner of my eye, I turned head and focused my attention on the green ring itself, and I saw. A gap, both thinner than a hair and impossibly wide. A chasm, ringed in blazing green, and within it, a luminous void, both empty, and overflowing. Incomprehensibly foreign, unnatural, and terrifyingly familiar. Far away, and alongside me, reaching into the chasm from a place I couldn’t see, a Great Black Tower that stretched into the void.
Unable to step back or look away, I felt a scream rise in my throat, only to die away as I felt the infinity before my eyes looking at me, reaching, calling, beckoning, from a distance beyond measure, and so close that I only needed to reach out to touch it.
Gazing, watching, for an instant, and an eternity, like a word on the tip of my tongue that I just couldn’t quite place properly, I knew, beyond any doubt, that I had seen it before, despite being unable to remember where, when, or how. And that it had seen me.
With a blink, the haunting vision was gone, and I found myself staring straight ahead, like I had never turned my head. Where a stone wall that was a dead end had been, a massive cavern awaited, and before my eyes, was a large, squat, and rather ugly building hanging from the ceiling, with massive railroads crossing the ceiling, walls, and floor, as well as what looked sort of like a classical locomotive, but existing in what seemed like a total defiance of gravity.
Shuddering as I placed the magical trinket back into the titan’s hand, I took a deep breath to calm myself, and kicked the titan’s shin with every bit of strength I could muster. Wincing as it felt more like I kicked a tree than a person, I felt mildly comforted as the titan let out a grunt, and gave me look of annoyed confusion.
“Don’t give me that look, Erin! When you told me it’d be impressive magic, you didn’t tell me that it’d be the most fucking terrifying thing that I’d ever seen! It felt like my blood turned to ice, and I nearly had a heart attack!”
“..What in Hel’s name are ye going on about, lass? Why’d ye kick me? What part of using the key to release the Spatial Compression was scary? Sure, ye’d be well within yer right to get upset if seeing it made ye feel sick like it does to some, but there’s nothing scary abou.. ..Actually, wait, Arata, lass, hold on, I almost entirely forgot that ye’re not just a kvinnorav of the Nadhir.”
Clearing his throat as he visibly reined in his annoyance towards me, the titan crouched down, looked me in the eyes, and spoke slowly, in a very different tone than usual, his usual cheerful demeanor completely absent from his voice.
“Lady Arata of the Vanir, may I ask, what did ye see?”
Almost unbidden, the words spilled out together with a mix of emotions, as haunting, fleeting, senseless, paradoxical memories that I could and could not remember, memories of a life not my own, danced through the back of my mind, and something clicked.
“I saw.. I saw.. Erin.. I saw.. A Black Tower.. Eternity.. And.. Berkeley.”
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