A Beginning

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The Sanctuary - The Awakening Chamber

Eidos opens her eyes.

Light floods in, burning her vision white hot.

Agony crushes perception, forcing teary lids shut anew.

Defiant, she pries them open, sheer will her only lever.

Soft, amber light soon bleeds in through trembling slits.

Wider, wider, ever-widening, her efforts begin to bear fruit.

Vision, though blurred, is now otherwise unimpeded.

Suddenly remembering to breathe, a heaving gasp fills her lungs with the chamber's chill air.

Then remembering to hear, a rushing noise floods her ears, drowning out all sound but the thunderous march of her heart.

Swaying as though on violent seas, the room seems to spin.

Collapse is inevitable.

The surrounding silence is shattered by a clarion cry. Hers.

Eyes bulge. Fingers to face. Dragging. Ripping.

Eidos howls. Fears released, riding on the winds of her wails.

She screams, lungs seeming to implode.

Air surges back in, stunting her terrified cries.

Silence returns.

Eternity seems to pass in an instant.

Yet it brings nothing but stillness.

The world has no reply to her terror.

Dread soon fades in the absence of threats.

Her chest expands and contracts at a steady pace, breath now regulated by exhaustion.

But against all odds, she yet stands.

Her eyes strain against the ambient light, distorted outlines sharpening into shapes, colors dividing and multiplying. At last, clarity replaces ambiguity and she is free to observe her surroundings for the first time, searching for hints of… something… anything really… anything but the obvious solitude confronting her.

Eidos stands at the center of an octagonal room. Its pale amber illumination comes not from windows, but from dully shining crystalline sconces adorning the eight corners of the chamber. Though subdued, the light is sufficient to chase away most shadows.

The stone walls are all richly decorated with murals and symbols, nary an inch of naked stone remaining. One such mural depicts sculpted trees draped in crimson flowers. The trees line a path where people stroll and fountains spray their endless streams. Though these features suggest a private garden, others distract from this impression. A wolf, a crow, and a serpent skulk furtively in and among the foliage, hidden in plain sight from the oblivious eyes of those who willfully ignore them.

These images span several walls unbroken, except at three points. Two doors, directly opposite one another, interrupt the murals, one painted an immaculate white, the other a murky indigo. A dark glass, embedded chest-high into a wall, likewise stabs a pitch black hole into the continuity of the murals; its unnerving gaze injects shivers into every fiber of her being.

Yet cold feet soon break the spell, drawing her attention to the floor. The metallic platform she now stands upon seems to sap her body's warmth—showing no signs of stopping.

Eidos crouches, running her hands along a polished, silvered surface. The platform consists of a metallic disk, roughly as wide as she is tall, seamlessly embedded into the tiled floor. Its face is etched with a dizzying array of lines, curves and spirals, all culminating in a Glyph at the center. This Glyph, this symbol, is meaningless to Eidos—yet at least she recollects that it is a Glyph, even in the absence of memory.

Rising from her squat, her eyes catch an anomaly, and immediately gravitate towards it. It came from the chest-high glass, the disturbing one. But now, the twinkle of reflecting light off the dark glass seems benign, inviting even. It draws her ever nearer, each step further erasing her initial apprehension. Though it looks like a hole pierced in space, the circular pane offers no view of what lies beyond. Peering in, she only sees the dim, visual echo of her own youthful visage.

Suddenly, her reflection seems to distort, like the smoke of a flame just snuffed. Soon, her warping image is replaced with an unsettling apparition… Bristling hairs of the darkest gray and the deepest black outline the form of a lurking wolf, its yellow eyes somehow darker than the emptiness from which they emerge.

"Awake at last… Eyes open, but be they yet with sight?" The beast speaks not in human tongue, yet every word, every thought is crystal clear to Eidos.

Leaving her no time to reply, it continues, "The darkness of this Sanctuary blinds, such an unfitting dwelling for our ilk. To leave this room you aim. Certain truth, as akin to mine your nature be."

"Who are you?" she asks. Did I just ask that?

"Fenrir, some claim. Vanargand's Fourth others say. The Ravenous and Helkin, too. All-Seersbane, Seeker, Everhungry and still more besides…" it offers. "No name for myself needed be, save 'I'."

"I see… Well, then what are you?" Wait… where are these questions coming from? Confusion, a natural consequence of her situation.

The wolf replies nonetheless, unaware of her internal controversy, "Many things have I to many folk been—just as a son may also a brother be, or one's foe another's ally be." The beast begins to pace. "But others' desires do not truth affect. My truth unchanging, my core, my essence only one thing be…" Fenrir freezes. Viscous drool begins to slip from its trembling maw; dark eyes pierce her with their hollow gaze; and the inimitable silence of a predator-stalked forest descends upon the room.

"Hunger." The word crescendos within her skull, giving rise to countless undying echoes.

This one seems… dangerous. Dangerous, indeed. Yet the only outward evidence of her anxiety is a knitted brow.

The wolf turns its gaze from her and renews its pacing. "But awareness of another's core does not you profit. No, to your own essence know, you must this chamber leave…" What’s his aim? Why does he want me to leave this place? "…a task I can aid." Fenrir continues. "Though my help freely given be, to accept or not on your instinct alone depends."

"I'll gladly accept your help, Fenrir." Her reply, immediate. Wait! No! It’s too dangerous! I can’t trust this one! But these thoughts have no effect on her actions. Why?! Why can’t I do anything?!

"Then my aid yours is…" growls the wolf with a knowing grin. "Many have I in my hunger consumed. Some bore Glyphs, their living thoughts now into my Trueflesh carved."

Before the beast, lines of pure white light cut through the air, bending and folding into impossible geometries. The only identifiable shape is the circle that surrounds the mess of copulating rays and edges.

The brilliant object suddenly vanishes, leaving only a hint of its brief appearance burnt into her vision, but that too soon fades.

The wolf renews its explanation, "Though neither can I the Glyphs read nor write, a use these symbols cast as Sigils will for you have. For Glyphs through their use, not their reading, known be. Sigils as reader act, so that without knowing you may the Glyphs use. Granting one fleeting Sigil now unto you, my ken allows…"

I don’t like this at all… I don’t need it and I don’t want it. Eidos, ignorant of what awaits her, inwardly rejects the unknown. Perhaps she will one day learn to embrace it.

With a sudden guttural rumble, more roar than growl, Fenrir demands, "Your truth speak! What reason have you to the Awakening Chamber leave?"

"To meet and understand others." Yes, for is she not a diplomat this time around? I am? No, I can’t be anything because I’m not making any of these damn decisions!

"Though I no loremaster of thoughtcraft be, with your nature—more than with any motivation to word translated—yes, with your Trueflesh more strongly did one symbol resonate…"

Suddenly, lines of vibrant violet cut the air before her, pouring forth from the dark glass out into her reality. A countless array of forms—outlined, never filled—writhe between dimensions both known and unknown, marking a Glyph the size of her fist.

As the final lines pour out, a lustrous pendant floats forth from the surface of the glass, causing the darkness to unripple, like a pebble leaping from the water back into the thrower's hand. The Glyph appears to emanate from this pendant’s surface.

She reaches for the pendant, and it eagerly moves toward her open hand. Contact brings awareness. I… can hear it speak to me. Its name… its name is…

"The Glyph of Farcasting—though tied to the Sigil be," says the wolf. "Outward your mind points. Knowing others your desire be. The metal seal, your path to them meet."

The metal seal… The one I woke up on? A new awareness dawns.

"Your Sigil now the Glyph's mark bears. Our parting nears. Till we meet anew, daughter of Viracocha…" Fenrir’s words end abruptly, all sound seemingly devoured by the dark glass.

Daughter of Viracocha? Confusion, though still present, gives way to the stronger sense of wonder. Her journey has begun.

She looks into the glass once more, expecting… something. But the ravenous Fenrir does not reappear—nor does her own reflection for that matter. Nothing shines on that once reflective surface. No light survives its utter darkness. Eidos now stares into a greedy singularity, ever-taking, never-giving.

How long have I been standing here? Thought rouses her from her waking slumber. The dark glass yet peers into her eyes, but its grip loosens as memory reminds her of deeds yet undone. A memory of the Glyph she has earned from Fenrir, the Glyph of Farcasting. Its essence now etched into a Sigil. What did the wolf say about the metal seal again..?

Eyes turn to search for the disk she awoke upon. Little seems hidden in this humble space and the disk is no exception. She spots it almost immediately and walks to it.

Crouching down, she runs her fingers along its polished, silvered surface. The platform consists of a metallic disk, roughly as wide as she is tall, seamlessly embedded into the tiled floor. This seems oddly familiar… Its face is etched with a dizzying array of lines, curves and spirals, all culminating in a Glyph at the center. The device now speaks to her as a child to its mother, calling for the Sigil Eidos carries to speak its name…

Farcasting…

Eidos instinctively places her hand upon the Sigil. Instinct becomes will, will then becoming thought. An image slowly forms, burning out violet lines from hidden dimensions. A circle manifests, weaving an intricate tapestry of lines, never crossing, as they traverse planes both seen and unseen linking paths among them.

NO!

All luminescent lines retract instantaneously. The device’s call now becomes a whimper, then an echo, and soon its call is nothing but a memory.

Did I..? Did it..? Well, at least one dangerous risk went unexplored. Eidos appears content with her victory.

What should I do now, then..? Oh! I know! The door! In her excitement she seems to have forgotten two doors remain—the third having shut already at her behest. The white one! Her decision made, action follows thought, and steady feet carry her towards the room’s white door.

A quick glance reveals that this door has no obvious handle nor hinges. Hesitantly, she moves to push it open. Contact made, the milky barrier ripples outward from her fingertips, and yet she feels none of it, just as though she were touching emptiness itself.

Suddenly, a Glyph born from the overlapping of several lesser shapes etches itself precisely where Eidos had first touched.

Wait! No! This might be dangerous, too!

The white lines carved from the void remain despite her protests. Why?! Its meaning is innate to her—and how could it not be?—for it is the Glyph of Eidos. ...my Glyph..?

At the recognition of her name, Eidos can feel the Glyph respond. The portal shimmers, showering the room in chaotic waves of luminescence. The door’s surface quickly becomes sharply reflective, casting her image in fine detail. Staring back at her is the figure of a young woman with braided hair, draped in a simple shirt, breeches, and a red traveling robe. Is this me?

But soon, the image begins to fade—and the metallic sheen along with it. The space beyond the vanishing door is enveloped in absolute darkness, save a pinprick of light beckoning her from the opposite end. I don’t like the look of this either… Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I don’t suppose I have a choice in the matter, do I?

She takes her first step forward into the darkness. Here we go…

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The Sanctuary - The Winding Stair

Emerging from the tunnel, Eidos steps onto a winding stairway. What is this place? Finely cut black granite, embellished with marble accents, seems the material of choice. Yet, the dominant feature here is not the stair itself; far more prominent a feature is nothingness. Even a cursory observation reveals the stairway's true nature as but a narrow strip winding around a vast column of empty space. This stairwell is enormous… why would anybody need such a massive set of stairs?

The air here is dry and stale, unperturbed long enough for it to stratify by density. The thickest clusters at the bottom eat away all intrusions of light. Meanwhile, upon the stairs, a thin blanket of dust likewise suggests that Eidos' newly added footsteps are the first to disrupt the balance in quite some time. Not a lot of dust, I suppose, but enough to merit some cleaning.

Though these stairs may not have seen any recent use, they are in a state far from disrepair. Crouching down to brush away a swath of the dust with her hand, Eidos sees the floors have been carefully polished. Oh, that’s nasty! Just look at my hand! It’s all dusty now! Gross… Oh well, as long as I’m down here, I’d might as well… She can detect no cracks, no threat of crumbling. They appear to be only recently crafted. Countless marble veins of geometric designs carve their way through this landing, though only humble shapes adorn the individual steps leading to and from it. I think that’s enough of the stairs. What else is there…

Leaning over the railing and peering into the depths below, Eidos sees nothing but the spiraling stair plummeting into an inky void. So thick is the darkness below, she feels she could float in it. Her suspicions feel confirmed as she observes the motes of dust floating alongside her, sparkling from their collisions with the light. They begin to dance around her, this microcosm of false stars, whirling inwards towards her. They’re… beautiful… She reaches a hand out to grab them, but they scurry away, propelled by the wind of her hand's motion.

Searching skywards, she sees that all light here leaks in through an aperture at the top of this monolithic shaft—so high above as to appear equidistant from the terminus of the bottomless void below. So that’s where the light is coming from. Golden rays weave their way down the shaft with spindly arms scraping at the darkness, as though desperately searching for some stolen treasure. Yet, the darkness nips back at the shiny intruders, jealously guarding what it hides in the depths.

Returning her attention to the more immediate surroundings, Eidos finds that the door has vanished. What?! How’s that even possible?! The chamber beyond is now nothing but the shadow of a fading memory—the memory of an event that may or may not have ever been. Didn’t I just come from… Or, wait… is this the same landing as before? Did I move without noticing?

Under the current circumstances, it seems her only way out is through. Though, a nagging feeling gnaws at her, begging her to confirm the veracity of her memory. No, I’m positive I came through a door on this landing.

As though possessed, Eidos reaches her hand towards the stone. Carefully and thoroughly, she runs her hands along the rough surface, exerting ever greater pressure upon the cold stone. Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing there… How? Despite a most meticulous investigation of the wall, no trace of a doorway emerges. In truth, no breaks in the surface exist at all, as though this enormous silo were made of a single, impossibly large stone. Oh, well, no point in dwelling on what we can’t change. Time to move… Hmm… Up or down?

Eidos begins her descent into the murky depths. Guess that settles it… Time passes as surely as her feet continue to step, stumble, and engage in other gravity-aided motion. Surprisingly, the light high above never seems to dwindle, even as she spirals deep into the maw of darkness. Well, that is odd… Maybe my eyes are just getting used to the lack of light? Likewise, the depths always seems to hide yet another length of stairs.

Distracted by these thoughts, she fails to realize her body has come to a halt. What’s over there? To her left an anomaly appears in the otherwise perfectly uniform, albeit rough, surface of the wall. It appears she has arrived at a doorway. To where? Peeking inside, she notes that the area is host to a dim light source of its own, thus revealing the silhouettes of the tables and shelves housed within. Creepy... but no less so than anything else I’ve seen so far.

Turning her attention once more to the stairwell, she sees that her progress has been thwarted. The stairs beyond this point have crumbled away—though given the pristine condition of the steps she took to get here, sabotage seems a likelier cause than age. Who—or what—would do that, though? And while there is another landing far beyond, one continuing the theoretical spiral trajectory, the gap is far too vast for any reasonable person to consider leaping to it… Oh, no, no, no… Don’t even think about it, body! Looking down from the edge, Eidos sees only oblivion—making failure to reach the opposite landing even more terrifying. Haven’t you already done enough to me? Deep breaths, body; deep breaths…

Sanity prevails, as her feet carry her towards the safer route, and so through the door she goes.

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The Sanctuary - The Archives

Her footfalls echo off into the immense darkness, as though fleeing from some unseen evil. Cracked tiles complain with every step. Wait, is that a… tree? Deep into the hall, stands a massive tree, its tremendous trunk bursting forth from the floor in defiance of the rigid granite. Though it was no doubt mighty in its prime, splintering bark and leafless branches betray its current frailty. Charred gashes in its roots weakly pulsate with a dying, greenish luminescence while exposing the tree's ancient innards.

Incredibly, this tree is clearly visible despite the hall's pervading darkness. Dimly it glows, as if caught in the fading rays of twilight. The absence of an obvious source of light suggests that the tree is made visible through some inner power—one as frail and decayed as the withered giant itself.

Although much of the room's illumination seems to come from the interaction between the tree and her vision, Eidos also senses a faint, green glow oozing in from the depths of the underground Archive—its source yet invisible to her. That can’t be good.

Though the tree appears to dominate much of the space, the enormous size of the hall containing it slowly becomes apparent. The vaulted ceiling is unfathomably high, consumed by shadows at its peak. Between each support column, rows of aged, wooden shelves line the hall; they in turn are lined with the cracked and brittle remains of countless tomes. Better not touch anything; I might break it. Arranged in concentric circles, rippling outward from the tree, are many long tables, benches and writing desks—no doubt placed here for the reading and copying of texts. This place looks thoroughly deserted…

Walking forward, Eidos notes that the majority of the tomes and shelves share the same dusty blanket as the stairs that lead here. Yet evidence that the area has seen more recent use abounds. That’s odd... Certain tables have stacks of books piled upon them and a number of volumes lie open as if abandoned in mid-read. Whoever was here must’ve been in a hurry to leave…

Advancing further into the room, she sees that the oozing emerald sheen from before comes from a stone archway leading deeper into the Archives. There’s the green glow I saw earlier… I should probably avoid that for now. The unbridled limbs of the forgotten tree have crept their way across the ceiling only to then slither downwards around the doorway, wreathing its perimeter.

The emerald incandescence illuminates yet another discovery, however, for laying motionless on the dusty floor are two corpses. Well, that’s… uh… unfortunate. The one to the left is slumped against a wall, smeared with blood, while the other is lying face down in front of the archway. Next to the bodies is a curious platform, raised perhaps a handspan above the ground and emanating a faint violet haze. Huh… I wonder what that does…

Curiosity guides her feet toward the mysterious object. As soon as she steps upon it, the violet glow strengthens, tracing the curves of the Glyph etched into its surface. A slow rumble and it begins to levitate, taking her skywards, up through the invisible shaft hidden among the ceiling's shadows.

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The Sanctuary - The Hall of Sentries

The floating platform speeds up through the shaft, bathing Eidos in stale air as she rushes towards this little journey's terminus. Slowing to a halt, she emerges up from the ground and into a shadowy alcove within a narrow hall. That was… unexpected—but, surprisingly, not unpleasant. Maybe this bizarre place isn’t so dangerous after all.

This short and narrow hallway is lined with the graven images of men and women at arms. They are finely carved, with no trace nor marks of the tools that wrought them. Yet, their forms are rough and simplistic, primarily comprised of simple angles and straight lines. They’re oddly beautiful… in their own way.

The ceiling hangs low enough to touch with a short leap, and the corridor's width scarcely exceeds her armspan. A dim light seeps in from the opening at the far end where the hall pours into a vast chamber, though something thwarts the light from completely consuming the doorway. Yet another mystery, but at least this one seems easier to approach.

Eidos proceeds through the hallway towards the door. As she draws nearer to the opening, the source of the blockage becomes apparent. What once appeared to be simply a void carved from light now gains detail. Its weaker shadows emphasize its smooth contours and rugged features. Immobile before her stands a tall, statuesque figure, a spear held at its side. Wait a second… Its expression is cold, and its demeanor dispassionate. That looks a lot like the bodies I just saw down in that last place… As if carved from stone, its features are flawless but for the large gashes rent into its face and abdomen—surely not the signs of an easy occupation. Glistening, blue liquid slowly leaks from its wounds, serving as a natural highlight of the sentry's figure.

Oh, I hope it’s friendly, because I’m pretty sure my body is gonna walk over there. As Eidos approaches, the guardian ceremoniously turns its face towards her in a stiff, stuttering motion. Lifting its massive spear from the ground, it lets the shaft fall into a firm two-handed grip while adopting a stance to more fully block the passage. Now body, listen… spears don’t play nice with flesh…

Soon it drops a jittery jaw and begins to chew on words in an attempt to communicate.

"ontohrraizhuoh. ibfuonashthagish." Its words come slowly in pure melodic tones.

She replies, "ontoh... what…? I don’t understand, but I want to." No, I don’t! Right now I wanna get out of here!

"ontohrraizhuoh. ibfuonashthagish." It repeats.

"Look, I… I don’t understand where I am—or even what I am, for that matter," she insists. "Can you take me to someone? Anyone? … Maybe to the person who built you?" No, we've gotta leave! Now! She steps forward arms spread open in a gesture of peace.

Before her third step, a spear’s head finds itself precisely between her breasts, stopping her heart mid-beat.

"onhagefuokuzhua," is all the sentry says, as his slain foe loses consciousness. It then drops her motionless body on the floor and brushes it aside with the butt of its spear before resuming its prior stance.