A First Death

__________________________________

The Sanctuary - The Awakening Chamber

Eidos respawns upon a metallic platform in the middle of an octagonal room. Did I just… die? The garden murals all about leave no doubt that this is the same chamber in which she first awoke. My body was walking toward that talking statue and then…

She heads for the same white door that led her from this place before. It stabbed me… to death. As she approaches, the portal's entire surface again becomes reflective, displaying Eidos' features clearly against the blurred image of the chamber. Yet here I am… not dead. Burning brightly at the center, the Glyph of Eidos activates. How…? Soon the portal's physicality wanes like a half-forgotten memory. Why…? By the time she reaches it, the door has vanished completely, leaving only darkness and a speck of light at its end. What am I…? Eidos knows from experience that just beyond the passage is the winding stair. Who am I…?

Before she knows it, she is headed once more toward that spiraling stairwell. Help…

____________________________

The Sanctuary - The Winding Stair

Stepping through the portal, Eidos finds herself upon the stairway once more. Spinning on her heel, she turns to see that the chamber beyond seems to yet again be hidden behind a wall. Its existence constantly negated, Eidos determines searching for it is pointless, fighting back that nagging feeling that the portal remains somewhere beyond her Awareness.

Didn’t I go down these steps last time? She looks down into the murky depths where the Archives were. I guess go back down, but avoid that platform this time… And before she can finish her thought, her body has begun its stepping, stumbling, and other gravity-aided motions leading her deeper down the winding stair.

Again the light never seems to dwindle, no matter how far she descends. How bizarre to do this all again. Just as before, the stairs seem to materialize from the shadows, continually stretching downward until she reaches the violent and abrupt ending next to the Archives’ entrance. She looks once more at the massive gap between her and the continuation of the steps further down. If every time I die, I just come back… maybe I could try to leap it. She instead enters the Archives. Wait! Hold on a minute!

________________________

The Sanctuary - The Archives

The pale tree, the scattered tomes, the orderly shelves and table, all remain dutifully unmoved, patiently awaiting the return of those who abandoned them in this forgotten chamber. I wonder who left this here… Maybe it was those two… Her eyes fall upon the corpses she discovered earlier in this aspiring mausoleum. Attention leads to thought, thought to action and she moves to investigate the macabre residents of the Archives.

Eidos first examines the body stretched out before the archway. Fingers reach to touch it. Oh, gross! Can't I investigate something without having to rub my fingers in it?! She discovers that the skin more closely resembles a supple, metallic husk than a leather hide. Ugh... what was this thing, anyway…? Whatever they were, they were decidedly not human.

Tracing the fallen creature's form with her fingertips, she comes upon a trail of dark, blue fluid. Well that’s foul. Her eyes follow the curious substance as it leads to the gash that likely ended it. Too neat. Too precise. Too lonely. Nothing about it suggests a struggle. What a terrible way to go. The body is also lightly coated with dust—not as much as the steps leading here, but enough to hint at a lengthy passage of time. Remarkably, though, no visible decay has marred the pale skin. Yeah, why isn’t it rotting?

Next, she turns her attention to the body slumped against the left wall. Here Eidos notices a rather unique feature: the absence of a head. That’s pleasant. Yet the dissimilarities stop there, for it too is free from decay and likewise possesses a metallic hide. Furthermore, what appeared to be blood smeared upon the wall behind it is, in truth, more of the oily bluish fluid found covering the first body. Can’t help but feel pity for the fellas.

She steps closer to the streaks of blue on the wall. Oddly, they remain aqueous in nature, simply refusing to dry or even drip to the floor below. Gross. Bringing her nose closer, a few quick inhalations reveal no discernible smell. Was that really necessary?! Wait… what is that? This close to the wall, she finally sees it. Not the blood, not the creeping branches from the dead tree crawling down the wall, but rather the wall itself—or what it once was, at least.

Beneath the blood of the creature, is part of an image. Wiping the blood and dust aside, she sees the faded traces of a fresco. Though aged and worn in places, it looks to be a stylized representation of the tree looming over her. Is that what it is? Flecks of metallic reflections give the impression that it may once have been illuminated in silver, though it is hard to say for certain.

Images of people seem to have also been traced, and though their relationship with the wooden giant is unclear, at least one individual seems to be walking from the tree bearing some kind of seedling—where to is impossible to determine. Okay, so there are other trees like this one?

Curiously, a single human shape adorns the base of the tree, seemingly entangled in its roots. A curvy, feminine form seems to be the tree's grisly source of sustenance. I sure hope this is metaphorical… Scanning up towards the branches, it looks as though there are more figures nestled within, though these have been almost entirely eroded away by time.

Miraculously, one image remains intact, untouched by entropy's avarice. It is a circle, or halo, crowning the top of the tree. Within this curved shape are a great number of overlapping lines etched into the stone. Ah, yet another Glyph, I bet. Whatever this symbol is, Eidos does not recognize it. Of course not, why would I recognize anything useful?

Inspired by the fresco, she moves to investigate the tree. Drawing nearer, she soon observes that some remains of a broken metal fixture in the floor have fused into the bark. It appears as though the room was constructed with the plant in mind, but that the growth of the trunk had long since overwhelmed the fixture in its abandonment. I’d be upset too if someone tried to chain me down and then left me to rot.

Eidos' eyes are drawn upward as they follow the massive trunk. Its branches stretch out to the vaulted ceiling and beyond as their growth was of sufficient force to crack through the stonework above in places. However, this must have happened ages before the current furnishings, as no fallen rubble litters the floor. Good point.

The wood itself seems to have petrified, transforming into a pale gray rock fused with sparkling crystalline fragments. These quartz-like specks dot its tough bark as well as its flesh, like a glassy pox. Perhaps more remarkable is that there are unmistakable wounds in the tree, as though it were struck with some kind of weapon or cutting tool. Dimly glowing emerald gashes—most superficial, but one thin and deep—in both trunk and root indicate how this plant may have been struck into oblivion. Their precision bears a striking resemblance to the blows that ended the corpses over yonder. Whatever it was that did all this damage, please keep me far from it.

On her way back to the archway with the corpses, Eidos passes a number of shelves and tables overflowing with tomes. I wonder what’s in those… Carefully brushing thick layers of dust from the bindings, Eidos attempts to read the titles. Alas, tome after tome, shelf after shelf, all of the surviving texts seem to elude her ken. Maybe if I could find some drawings instead… But it is not merely a matter of comprehension. In fact, absorbing this information requires that her mind be altered, such that order may come to the chaotic characters strewn about the page. I assume that means it’s no use staring at these any longer.

Not one to let a crushing failure deter her, she stares blankly at the books for quite some time. Is this necessary? I already know I can’t read it… Obstinacy beyond all imagination leads her to remain here for hours, vainly trying to make sense of this complex web of information. Fine. I’ll leave when I leave. Finally realizing the error of her ways, Eidos moves to explore the archway the corpses use as their makeshift grave. Is this a good idea? I mean, what if what did that to them does the same to me…?

Arriving at the archway, she sees it connects this room with another via a shorter corridor. With each subsequent step, Eidos gains in proximity to the wash of green illumination the far-side room exudes. Oh, come on! It's green light! The same exact color as those gashes! The light has a vivid quality to it; its softly pulsating glow even seems to mimic the periodic breaths of some unnatural beast. Oh, I don’t like this one bit...

She inches ever closer until she reaches the mouth at the end of the corridor, pouring out into the next chamber.

_________________________

The Sanctuary - Luin’s Chamber

Seeking the source of ethereal light, Eidos enters a tetrahedral chamber. Three sides angled in on each other make up the walls, tapering severely, high above. Reflective panels arranged on a grid cover all four surfaces like the scales of a silver serpent. The chamber itself is small, the width spanning but five paces outward from the center, though the ceiling might well be five times Eidos' height. All right, this isn’t quite as bad as I had anticipated… but what is that?

Gaze now set upon the middle of the room, she sees the emerald light pervading the area emanates from a crystal. The shimmering object is suspended midair, as though in some invisible, viscous fluid. Beyond it, a familiar dark glass adorns the wall, embedded chest-high at one of the intersections to the myriad reflective tiles. That’s like the thing where I met the wolf…

Feet shift towards the crystal, entranced by its rhythmic pulsations. What is this thing? Tentatively raising a hand, she reaches out to touch it. The pulsations increase with an unbridled frenzy the closer her hand comes. Then, contact. And like a cracked dam giving way, its toxic contents—thoughts of bloodlust, innocence, death, protection—all rush through her head. It’s like some murderous child is possessing this thing! Get it away from me!

She hurtles backwards, away from the bizarre cocktail of emotions writhing within the emerald. She moves so quickly, her feet slip out from under her, sending her sprawling onto the floor. Desperately crawling the rest of the way, she makes it to wall. The further away from that thing, the better! Eyes stare in vigilant horror for some time, waiting for something terrible to emerge. She glares at the crystal, but soon her unblinking eyes beginning to tear up. Still as a statue, she remains utterly motionless, until the absence of threats makes her initial fear seem absurd.

Finally remembering to breathe, she slumps against the wall, tightly knotted muscles seeming to unravel in unison. Vision now holds the edge of the dark glass, nestled not too high above her. I suppose I’m going to have to look into that thing.

She rises, soon confronted by herself, reflected within the inky mirror. The frame, the glass, the reflection, it’s all the same. She moves closer to it, peering deeply. A shift. No longer her reflection. The glass’s surface seems to meld her form with that of another. Murky at first, but soon gaining in clarity, the image of a child soon stares back at her. The youth is of indeterminate sex and wears a simple tunic…

“tashonEidos? tashonsoh? onLuintohsuohzha! tashulsohevatorra'kaisa?” come the words, both mellifluous and childish in equal measure.

“I can’t understand you. What do you mean?” Eidos replies. Or better yet, are you dangerous?

The youth simply smiles and points behind Eidos excitedly adding, “la! tashonnashtohjawish? ibtohjukishrrezuapapohdhi! ibtohdidhishhagetohfeish. ibtohrrapiva!”

Eidos leaves the incomprehensible youth alone in the mirror. Its image does not fade, like the wolf, however. The child simply sings and plays occasionally looking back at Eidos and eagerly encouraging her to move. But move to what? Its hands point away from the glass. The crystal? Please not there! No, it’s pointing toward the door! Let’s go to the door and leave this place!

Feet chart their course for the crystal, bringing her within arm’s reach of it. No! This thing is too dangerous! Her hand searches for the crystal’s surface. Why?! Why can’t I control anything?! Contact renewed, the same volatile mix of emotions fills her. Why…? It resonates with something deep inside her, something bearing a great likeness to it. And then…

Instinct becomes will, will then becoming thought. An image slowly forms, burning out lines from the void. A circle manifests, weaving an intricate tapestry of lines, never crossing, as they traverse dimensions linking paths among them. And soon, the Glyph is fully formed, completing the reaction.

Calling to mind the Glyph of Fenrir, Eidos executes her Extraction Techne. My what... An agonizing shock travels down her spine, spreading out like ink on fabric. Then a name—'Luin'—resounds in Eidos' mind and the eldritch crystal soon mutates into an emerald sword and shield—a vision of her new talent, the reward for her current pain… Enough!

Eidos stands transfixed as a vision of the child reaching a hand to her face fills her mind's eye. At the moment of contact, Luin's form is dissolved from within by a burning green fire. The light ablaze now races through Eidos' skin, filling every nook, every cranny of her being.

Then, pain. Pure and unadulterated. All else disappears. She writhes upon the ground, an agony of soul and flesh assailing her.

Then, another flash of searing pain grips her mind and body. She convulses wildly, as an uncontrollable lust for violence wells up within her. Death, destruction, yet no ill will beyond them. Slaughter, annihilation, yet no evil intent behind them.

She cries out, overwhelmed by the emotions, inundated with contradictory desires. She screams until no more air remains, screams until only blood emerges from her compressing lungs. As the last echoes die out, the broken silence begins to mend. And then… It is over almost as soon as it began.

She releases the crystal, now inert, and watches as it slowly glides to the ground performing a final transformation into a shattered mess of a thousand scattered shards, the destructive preamble to its violent future. Is it… over?

Eidos looks once more upon the tetrahedral chamber where Luin once dwelt. Who is Luin? The sword/shield thing? The kid? The room is now dark, empty and devoid of life. Though inanimate, it feels as though this room, this prison, is ushering her out; its wordless exhortations simultaneously thank her and beg her to use her new talents with great urgency. I gotta get out of here… Please body, let me leave.

Feet then begin to shuffle towards the door.

_______________________

The Sanctuary - The Archives

Eidos has returned to the dusty Archives. The ethereal form of the tree stands like a phantom over the two slain creatures joining it in death. The forgotten tomes and bookshelves seem out of place in this graveyard, like two nightmares fused by a feverish mind. Near the bodies, the platform yet remains, ready for her use. And use it she does.

Stepping upon it once again, the violet glow strengthens, tracing the curves of the Glyph etched into its surface. What? So I can get killed by the sentry again? A slow rumble and it begins to levitate, taking her skywards, up through the invisible shaft hidden among the ceiling's shadows. Sure, why not?

______________________________

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. This I’m used to. I just hope I don’t find anymore surprises like that weird crystal.

The familiar narrow hallway and its resident sentry silently greet Eidos with their gaze as her first footfalls echo through the hall. She steps from the platform, out from the alcove and towards the sentry. That sounds like a bad idea! That thing killed me before. She moves with confidence, knowing she now has a powerful ally, its ability to deal with creatures of this nature confirmed by the corpses littering its doorstep. Wait… so those things down there were sentries? And that thing I just… absorbed… killed them?

Soon, the guardian turns to meet her with its stiff, stuttering motion. It raises its massive spear, soon gripping it firmly with both hands. It yet seems unwilling to let her pass. But this does not deter the intrepid Eidos. I hope this sword and shield thing works…

Its jittery jaw repeats the same incomprehensible phrase from before. Yet, something familiar about its words, beyond the obvious, strikes Eidos.

“ontohrraizhuoh. ibfuonashthagish.” Every word, every syllable, is uttered exactly as before, not a single variation. This creature… it speaks just like that child in the dark glass down in the Archives, right?

“Stand aside and let me through; there is no need for violence,” she replies. No, I didn... Oh, whatever.

The sentry replies only with its silence. Eidos moves, slowly inching forward. She wants to see if she can just walk past the creature.

The sentry engages with a flurry of stabs, all invisible to Eidos. But then, for the briefest instant, the world shines green. Luin, taking the form of a sword, has deflected all of the pinpoint strikes. Yes! At least the terrible pain was worth it! Now I can defend myself!

Suddenly, a bloodlust wells up within her, almost certainly originating from her emerald ally. Oh no. She leaps forward for a counter-offensive. The sentry, however, appears to have anticipated the strategy, already in a defensive stance, spear upraised, ready to block. Yet it blocks nothing as Luin cleaves everything, ripping through the spear and sentry alike, as though through empty space.

A geyser of blue blood showers the surrounding bas reliefs, giving them a grim makeover. The sentry falls to its knees. Despite the unrestrained torrent of blood from its torso, the dispassionate look on its face seems to suggest that all is as it should be. Mere moments later, it completes the fall, cold lips now kissing a cold floor.

The corpse of the slain sentry now lies in a pool of viscous, blue fluid, appearing as lifeless as the reliefs lining this narrow hall. Eidos' path is unobstructed. Is it over? Am I free to go? Her feet soon shuffle her through the door the sentry failed to protect.