The Mask Comes Off | By : Samson Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4984 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Kingdoms of Amalur intellectual property, nor am I making any money off of this fanfic. Unauthorized duplication of this work is prohibited. |
Old Friend
The Mask Comes Off
Part III - "Destiny"
By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson
Original Date Written: September 25, 2016
Farrah came to with a tiny groan, brow furrowing at the agony throbbing through her skull. She tried to draw in a deep breath, but quickly had to hack it back out as she inhaled detritus. Pushing herself up to her hands and knees, she coughed into a fist, catching her breath as quickly as she could before finally looking around. It was dark, cold even for a Ljosalfar, with the floor beneath her an unsteady, jagged mess of broken wood from the floorboards. She slowly looked upwards as best she could, straining against the darkness to see how far she had fallen. All she could see was inky blackness, creaking unsteadily. A throb of pain in her forehead made her wince, gasp, and drop her head back down, prompting her to reach up and touch herself.
Her fingers went wet. She dropped her hand and tried to look at her digits, only vaguely making out the dark shape trickling down from her fingerprints. She momentarily grit her teeth, looked back up, and called out “Hello? Can anyone hear me? I’m alright! I don’t know where I am!” She waited a few moments, but nobody from above answered her. Instead, a soft groan over towards her right made her draw in a soft gasp of surprise. Her hands came together in front of her immense bust, wringing a little nervously. Now whispering, she breathed out “Astraia? Is that you?” After a momentary pause, there was a shifting in the debris, an audible cracking as broken wooden beams were pushed. “...Yes, I’m still here,” the giantess answered, a little groggily. “Are you okay, Farrah?”
Farrah was too busy hurrying over in the darkness to answer, unsteadily walking across the treacherous ground. She came closer to the noise, near-blind in the darkness as she reached down to help pull aside debris. The mass of broken floorboards, dust, and destroyed mortar shifted until the Kollossae could rise to her feet, already dusting herself off, patting at her arms and legs to brush off the grime. Farrah reached out in the shadows until her slender, delicate hands made contact with Astraia’s cuirass, which quickly had the Ljosalfar giving a subtle, relieved sigh. Keeping her voice down lest things be stirring in the dark, she said “I don’t know where we are, it’s too dark. I don’t know how far we fell. I’m sure my father’s men are already searching for a way to get to us.”
Farrah tried looking upwards again, then anxiously sighed out “Ahh...Perhaps...We fell into the basement? The larder? I don’t think we would’ve fallen so deep that we’d enter the catacombs.” When a soft blue light abruptly filled her eyes, Farrah winced, screwing her eyes shut tight as she groaned. Astraia asked her question again, but hastily changed the subject once she saw an answer, rather than heard it. “Are you okay? The fall was...Oh, you are hurt.” Farrah opened her eyes a little, arching her eyebrows as her mouth hung open, a crack. Aside from some dust on her face and in her hair, Astraia looked no worse for wear. In one hand, she held up her chakram by her head, causing the magical weapon to emit a faint light from inside the loop.
Farrah, meanwhile, had taken a nasty bump on the head, right at her hairline. It had sent a thick patch of blood down across her forehead, stopping at her eyebrow before running to the side and trickling down her temple. The blood was dark with dust that had caught on the moisture, and it looked like the bleeding had already stopped, but the cut could easily reopen if anything disturbed the fledgling clot. For a second time, Farrah reached up and tried touching her injury, but Astraia quickly reached out and stopped her with her free hand, compassionately urging “You’d better not. Best to leave it until someone can properly clean and dress it.” Farrah briefly arched both eyebrows. With an optimistic twinge in her voice, she murmured “Well, nothing’s broken, at least.”
Astraia smiled, but it faded once she turned to the side and waved out her chakram, trying to get a sense of their surroundings. Farrah looked off to the side in the other direction, eyes scanning across the debris. At the very least, they were in a legitimate chamber of some sort, rather than a cavern. The walls were made of brick-like layers of ash gray stone, but with seemingly half the small chamber packed up with debris from the earthquake, there was no way to know what purpose the room had served. Whatever furnishings or objects that had been kept inside were now buried under a small mountain of rubble. Thankfully, the glow from Astraia’s chakram exposed the walls ahead right up until they led into a small section of shadow that persisted, clearly the mouth to a hallway that they could illuminate if they came closer.
Astraia turned her head and watched as Farrah stumbled her way over to the remains of Lord Novambles’ desk, cracked nearly in two from the tumultuous fall into the chamber. She hurriedly pulled open the drawer she had taken Pann Novambles’ private journal from, giving a sigh of relief when she spotted the ivory sceptre still inside, the delicate wood used in the construction appearing to be unharmed. She pulled it out, breathing “Wonderful...My dear, maybe you could make use of this?” Turning back towards Astraia, the snowy-haired elf walked back towards her, holding out the sceptre in one hand as she reached out and took the giantess’ offered hand with the other, the Kollossae aiding the regal Alfar in keeping her balance.
“It’s a sceptre, it’s inert in the hands of somebody without magic, but I’m certain it’d respond to you. Those rings of your’s are clearly magical weapons, after all. The sceptre would come alive in your hands, I’m positive. Firing bolts of elemental magic might be useful, and if this were Lord Novambles’ personal weapon, then it must be of high quality.” Astraia curiously reached out, delicately taking the sceptre between her index finger and thumb. Immediately, a cute grimace came over the Kollossae’s statuesque face. The sceptre instantly came alive, a pale blue glow igniting inside the hollow end of the wooden wand. The cold mist of frost billowed off of it, snowflakes twinkling like ice inside the mist as they fell off of the sceptre.
In a tiny mumble, Astraia said “Yes, I suppose it’d be wise to keep it, but...My chakrams can already double as ranged weapons, and...Well, let’s face it, this was clearly made for someone much smaller than a Kollossae. I’m worried I’m going to snap it, if I hold it too tightly.” Farrah smiled a little, then murmured “I suppose you make a good point...Very well. I’ll hold on to it, for the time being. It might still be useful. I don’t think it’ll respond to me, however. All Alfar are more magical than humans, but...” Astraia simply nodded, passing the sceptre back into Farrah’s dainty hand, causing the frost billowing off of the tip to simply vanish. Astraia gently took Farrah by the hand again, still holding up her chakram as she stated “Come on, we can’t just sit here and wait for a rescue. We found a way in; there must be a way out.”
Farrah nodded. Holding hands to balance each other, they carefully crossed the unsteady, jagged debris, making their way over until they could hop off near the hallway, landing on solid stone ground. Astraia held out her chakram a little further, exposing the mouth of the hallway. What they saw made their skin crawl. The door to their chamber, made of thick wood reinforced with horizontal metal bars, had been broken open from the inside, knocked right off the hinges so violently that the thing had nearly been distorted into a concave mess of splinters and warped iron. Farrah and Astraia shared a look, then cautiously proceeded, stepping over the felled door and taking a few tentative steps into the hallway proper.
They let go of each other’s hands, but kept close as they followed the corridor. Astraia led the way with the glow of her chakram, while Farrah kept a hand to the rough stone wall, feeling the texture glide across her palm. A small tremor in the ground gave them pause at one point, but when it subsided, they pressed onwards. They quickly enough found themselves rounding a couple corners, passing by a few thick metal doors in the process, all of which were tested and found locked. Eventually, Astraia began to grimace. Magic was beginning to fill the air like a gas, a tickle in her nose and at the nape of her neck. When the two abruptly heard a scuttling noise down the hallway, a guttural clicking, they both froze up. Astraia held her chakram further out, but all the two could see was a black void, ten feet ahead.
They heard something scamper away down the hall, it’s soft, fast footsteps just barely echoing as the thing retreated. Farrah’s blood ran cold. In a whisper, she optimistically offered “An overgrown rat, perhaps?” Astraia could only mumble back “Maybe...But, just to be safe, you should really stay behind me, Farrah.” Farrah gave a sheepish nod. She felt like insisting that she wasn’t frightened, but took a more pragmatic approach to the idea: Astraia had armour and weapons, and she did not. If anyone was to do any fighting, it’d have to be the Kollossae giantess. Astraia led the way more openly until the two of them came to a T-junction in the hallway, and when they looked towards their left and saw stairs leading upwards, they were both overcome with a moment of relief.
Farrah hurried ahead, but Astraia quickly caught up, holding out her chakram to light the way. A big, bright smile overcame Farrah as she looked up and saw the glowing white outline of a doorframe. Almost instantly, she knew exactly where the two of them had fallen: the pantry. With a hurried mumble of explanation, Farrah hastened to rise the steps. “The door in the kitchen, of course! Come, maybe my father’s soldiers are still there! They must’ve tried entering the basement, maybe we just need to open a deadbolt!” Astraia glanced over her shoulder as the faint skittering noise reemerged, drawing closer. The giantess swallowed some excess saliva. She wanted to urge Farrah to try and keep the noise level down, but she, too, was too excited by the prospect of a quick escape to keep herself still.
Farrah hurried to the top of the stone steps, quickly groping her hands across the door for the knob. Instead, she found the thick handle to a sliding bar, and trying to pull it only had her noticing the exceedingly thick padlock securing the handle to a second one embedded into the doorframe, itself. For all intents and purposes, the door had been barricaded with solid metal. As Astraia came closer and exposed the door under the glow of her magic weapon, she eyed the padlock, her jaw tightening up. Damn thing looked far too sturdy to just bust off, even for a giantess like her, and her chakrams likely wouldn’t have been able to cut through, not without causing severe damage to the edges, at least. Destroying her weapons wouldn’t do either of them any good.
Farrah’s hands balled into fists. She raised her hands and slammed the undersides into the door, causing a loud, metal “clunk” to echo down the stairway. The sceptre trembled in Farrah’s fist from how tightly she clenched it. Astraia cautiously looked over her shoulder as Farrah raised her voice, blurting out “Officer Heschua, can you hear me?! Can anyone hear me?! Astraia and I fell into the basement! We don’t think we can open the door from this side!” The scuttling noise drew closer, as did another guttural clicking, like insect mandibles. Astraia quietly urged “Farrah?” Farrah banged her fists against the door, again. Her breathing audibly escalating, she called out “Please, can anyone hear me?! There’s a rather large lock on the door, we don’t know where the key is! Can you open it from the other side, somehow?”
The scuttling drew to the base of the stairs, a more energetic clicking noise echoing up the short hallway. Astraia’s eyes widened. “Farrah?” Farrah wouldn’t be dissuaded. What Astraia didn’t seem to realize was, the more tense the situation became, the less inclined Farrah was to keep quiet - not when she was in a dark, cramped, subterranean pit. Farrah, clearly beginning to panic, banged a fist against the door multiple times, her breathing growing weepy until, all at once, she stopped. Her face opened up in surprise as a voice, muffled, became audible on the other side of the thick door. “Lady Farrah?! Is that you?! Hang on! We’re going to get the door open, somehow! Just keep calm! We’re still trying to find a way to get to you! We’re not leaving without you, my lady!”
Farrah, tears in her eyes, gave a breathless smile, her mouth barely hanging open in relief. Astraia’s jaw tightened as her expression turned stony. In a flash, she pulled up her second chakram, causing the glow to intensify in the corridor. Farrah turned around in a hurry when she finally heard the clicking noise, putting her back against the door with a gasp. Her eyes widened. No. Oh, gods, no. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend it wasn’t real, but the horror of it kept her staring. A cold sweat made her forehead shine as her heart began racing. The thing that had crept up the staircase towards them was a monster of pure chaos, of pure evil, a mindless relic of a black age at the formation of Amalur. A beast of magic, a beast of darkness and shadows, all chitin and bloodlust: Niskaru.
Astraia’s lips parted, panic making her bare her teeth in a snarl. She put herself directly in front of Farrah, making herself a shield for the Ljosalfar. The Niskaru was a bipedal creature somewhat insectoid in appearance, with a sleek, exoskeletal body, largely pallid like blood-drained flesh. The head lacked eyes, while the jaw was bisected at the chin, making it visually similar to mandibles. The torso gave off the vaporous red glow of raw chaos magic, bleeding off of it so intensely that it befouled the very air. The chest and back of the creature was covered in a short, shaggy coat of black fur more akin to human hair, while jagged crystalline structures, the longest stretching out to half a meter long, protruded from the creature’s back, riddling it’s rear with defensive quills like a hedgehog’s.
The arms ended in long, thick, serrated blades of bone, the edges facing inwards like scissors, coloured black like death. The legs ended in long, curved toes capped with wicked talons, like an infernal bird of prey. The malformed terror cocked it’s head to the side, tilting it, twisting to give a lopsided look with it’s smooth, featureless helmet of a face. Under her breath, Astraia muttered “Ethene, protect me.” The Niskaru opened it’s mandibles wide at the sound of her voice, uttering a loud, hissing howl, more blatantly raising it’s sword-like arms. Astraia stared the Niskaru down, beginning to spin her chakrams around her fingers, forcing them to raise up a loud whirring noise.
“Get back!” The Kollossae demanded, taking a threatening step towards the Niskaru. The whirring noise, bloodcurdlingly loud even without the echo in the hallway, seemed to unsettle the creature. Although it opened it’s arms and hissed a second time, it took a step back, retreating one single pace down the staircase. Farrah only barely heard a voice on the other side of the door, calling out “What’s happening, in there? My lady?!” Farrah, tears trickling down her cheeks, opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She wanted to call Astraia back, but the Kollossae took a second step towards the horror, loudly proclaiming “We are servants of Order, followers of the true gods and goddesses, and will not be cowed by the shadow! Get back, demon!”
The Niskaru abruptly lunged towards her, thrusting out it’s arms for her abdomen, clearly aiming to run her through and split her middle wide open. Farrah could barely let out a choked cry before Astraia had grabbed her chakrams, slammed the circular blades down into the Niskaru’s arms, and knocked them straight down into the concrete of the stairs, effortlessly parrying the creature’s dual blows. In nearly the same instant, the Kollossae was raising her blades to either side of the creature’s neck, ready to decapitate it with a swift crossing of the edges. When the Niskaru pulled back with inhuman agility, Astraia answered by snapping out her leg, punting the creature in the chest with all of her might. Instantly, she had sent it cascading down several steps, landing with a crash halfway down the staircase.
With a growl, Astraia lunged forward, herself, and threw out a chakram, sending the whirring blade screaming down the stairs. The Niskaru leapt to it’s feet in time for the blade to catch it on the arm, causing a horrific screeching to rise up, like metal being cut into by industrial tools. The chakram sliced nearly halfway through the chitin before catching and zooming back, effortlessly caught by the Kollossae with nothing but her bare hand. The Niskaru raced up the steps two at a time, mandibles wide open in a furious howl as it raised up it’s sword-like arms, once again aimed to puncture Astraia’s torso. Farrah watched with complete amazement as the big woman dropped her chakrams and suddenly caught the Niskaru’s blades inside the hoops, twisting her body to the side to get herself out of the way before yanking the chakrams back.
She grunted with exertion as the horror fought her with inhuman strength, but within moments, she had gotten behind it, pulled it’s arms behind itself, and shoved it down against the staircase, pinning it’s much smaller body underneath her weight. She stuck one arm through the chakrams in order to keep them together while allowing her the use of a hand. Breathing hard, she reached up, grabbed the Niskaru by the upper jaw, and started pulling. The horror kicked at the stairs and hissed, but Astraia yanked and jerked, and finally, a sickening snap echoed down the staircase. The Niskaru went limp, prompting the red glow to vanish from it’s torso, disappearing like smoke.
Farrah couldn’t help smiling, the tears in her eyes drying as Astraia, panting, stood up from the slain abomination. The first thing Astraia did, after a cautious look over her shoulder to ensure that no other Niskaru were sneaking up on her, of course, was look at Farrah with open concern and quietly ask “Are you alright, Farrah? You look pretty shaken.” Farrah gave a trembling sigh and sat herself down on the top step, closing her eyes as she brought a hand to her forehead. Astraia just watched her for a moment, sympathetic but unsure of how to placate the noblewoman, until the voice on the other side of the door came again, calling out for some kind of confirmation that everything was alright.
Astraia took it upon herself to answer while Farrah came to grips with what had just happened, walking back up to the door before, as loudly as she dared, calling out “Lady Farrah is alright! There are Niskaru in here! We don’t know how many! We need a way out, as soon as possible!” The voice immediately came back in a hurry, along with the jostling of armour. “Niskaru? Astraia, keep Lady Farrah secure! We’re working as fast as we can to find a way out, for you! Just hold on!” Astraia looked at Farrah as the Ljosalfar deflated with a curt sigh, slowly rising to her feet. The elf gave the giantess a rueful look, her mouth briefly hanging open before she softly said “...Allow me to apologize...I came apart a little, didn’t I?”
Astraia replaced one of her chakrams at her hip, hanging it from the tiny loop in her armour. She resumed holding the other aloft, creating light for the two of them. “No, I understand completely,” she readily reassured. “Faced with a Niskaru? I’d be more concerned if you hadn’t been frightened. I was terrified,” Astraia confided, gently raising her eyebrows with a little smile. Farrah raised her eyebrows in return, but began to smile. Softly, she murmured “You were?...You certainly fooled me. You were more than a little impressive, Astraia. You handled that...Thing...Like a rancher with his livestock.” Astraia smiled more as she modestly protested, commenting “Well, they sometimes appear in the Teeth of Naros, but usually only near the subterranean areas...Anyway. I was lucky. Niskaru are not to be trifled with.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Farrah mumbled, raising her eyebrows high as she folded her hands together, over her lap. She went quiet for a moment before, her eyes down on the floor, she muttered “...It wasn’t just the Niskaru that shook me. It’s being down in this...Pit.” Astraia watched Farrah’s expression weaken, the Alfar putting a hand against the wall, seemingly to steady herself. Her eyes went listless as she slowly confessed “Being down here is like being down in the catacombs, all over again...Running around, blind, terrified out of my wits...Not knowing what’s around me, pulling Rupheus along...” She closed her eyes, her jaw visibly tightening as she tilted her head to the side, then shook it back. With a sigh, she breathed “Seeing the Niskaru was like...Seeing everything come true. I could barely breathe.”
Astraia reached out and gently touched Farrah’s shoulder. The elf opened her eyes and looked over. The blue glow from Astraia’s chakram made the glisten in Farrah’s eyes doubly noticeable. Clearly having some difficulty making eye contact, Farrah more resolutely stated “I’m back now, however...I can handle this. I’m not...I’m no longer a child. I’m not frightened, anymore. Nothing lurks in the dark.” Her brow began to furrow as she looked Astraia straight in the eye and said “Rupheus must be around here, somewhere. Pann Novambles mentioned Niskaru in his journal. If the chaos magic is more potent down here, then he, and possibly Rupheus, are somewhere down here...Possibly even in danger from those things.”
Astraia seemed taken aback by what Farrah was clearly suggesting. She blinked a couple times in rapid succession, gestured at the door, and quietly answered “Farrah, we shouldn’t stray, your father’s men are trying to open the door, and who knows how many more Niskaru are prowling about.” Farrah matter-of-factly pointed a finger at the thick padlock securing the bolt barred across the door. Raising her eyebrows, she muttered “That’s well and good, my dear, but I’m not holding out hope that they’re going to break down this door, any time today. Our best chance is trying to find the key, and if anyone has it, it’d be Lord Pann or Rupheus, himself. If we simply sit here, those abominations will only find their way to us like this other one did. You were the one who said we can’t very well sit around and wait for a rescue, yes?”
Astraia dropped her hand from the door, gave a subtle sigh, and murmured “...You’re right, I did. But, with Niskaru...Farrah, you aren’t wearing any armour, and you can’t defend yourself.” The blue-skinned Alfar raised her eyebrows and began to descend the concrete stairs. “I’m not afraid,” she simply stated. “I trust you implicitly, my dear. You can keep me safe.” Astraia cautiously pulled free her second chakram, already following after the Ljosalfar. “...Very well,” the giantess quietly answered. She quickly stepped past Farrah and began to lead the way, more confidently adding “We’ll try to find another way out, or the key to the basement door, or possibly even Rupheus. If it helps you put this mystery to rest, then...Well, I’m not very well going to abandon you now.”
Farrah started smiling from ear to ear. She wanted to thank the Kollossae, but the words ended up stewing inside, rather than slipping free. Another tremor filled the ground as they reached the bottom of the stairs, prompting them to hold the walls and wait for the vibrating to subside. When it did, Farrah followed Astraia back down into the T-junction, keeping close behind her tall defender as they crept down the second passageway they hadn’t yet followed. It wasn’t long before Astraia was slowing back down to a stop. Farrah watched her tilt her head forwards, and quickly turned her eyes down to the giantess’ sandals.
Her jaw tightened at the red speckles across a wide swath of the concrete, swiftly enough collecting into a small, sticky puddle, perhaps a foot away from Astraia’s toes. The giantess quietly muttered “...The blood in the kitchen.” Farrah nodded. Finishing the giantess’ thought, she murmured “Whatever happened up there, it ended up spreading down here. I suppose bloody foodstuffs is out of the question, after all.” Astraia stepped around the bloodstain and continued on, briefly glancing over her shoulder to ensure Farrah was remaining close before she fell out of the light. Her eyes remained on the floor, watching the way the red continued on in droplets and spatters for several meters before finally tapering off and disappearing.
A chittering noise in the distance gave Astraia pause. Farrah came to a stop behind her, glancing up at the back of her head. Astraia kept perfectly still for several moments until a faint growl came from down the hallway, followed by scampering footsteps that disappeared down a distant hallway. Another tremor ran through the ground, and once it subsided, Astraia silently continued walking, following the stone walls until the two of them came to a four-way crossroads. When Astraia looked over towards the right, Farrah would’ve sworn that the giantess’ stony face went pale. Instantly, Astraia dropped her chakrams to her hips, killing the light. Farrah very nearly panicked at being stuck in the dark, quietly walking forwards until she could reach out and touch the giantess and ensure she was still there.
She almost made the mistake of asking why Astraia had doused their only light source when she heard the scraping of talons against stone, over towards her right. When she looked over, her blood ran cold. Through one of the doorways in the crossroads, a large chamber of some kind could be seen, dotted here and there with the red lights of chaos magic. The glow from each individual Niskaru was like a torch, washing off of their bodies as they aimlessly prowled around the chamber just a few feet below them. Farrah quickly counted a dozen of them, but more blinked in and out of sight in the distance, as if coming back and forth from behind cover. Farrah clutched Astraia tighter, holding on for dear life as the Kollossae slowly, noiselessly, stepped away from the passage doorway.
She and Farrah took more than a dozen paces down the remainder of the hallway before the Kollossae drew her chakrams once more, giving the two some light to see in. As soon as they did, Farrah looked downwards. Her brow furrowed in disgust at the sight of yet another puddle of blood on the floor, one that the two of them had already inadvertently stepped in. However, when she raised her eyes a little, she noticed something encouraging that the other stains had lacked. Without a word, she pointed out at the floor, giving Astraia a glance. The giantess looked over. Drag marks. Her jaw tightened. The two of them were on the right path. Whatever had been leaking blood, the carrier had dropped and pulled, for a bit, before evidently picking it back up. An unsettling thought, to be sure. The two continued on, alert for more Niskaru.
As the hallway wore on, the richness of the magic infusing the air intensified to the point where even Farrah could feel something miasmal around them, whereas Astraia felt so bogged down by it, she wanted to cover her mouth and cough at the sensation it left in her throat with every breath. All at once, they came up to a doorway which opened up into a wide chamber stretching over towards their left-hand sides, complete with a beam of light emanating from the ceiling. Farrah’s eyes widened in elation. Light! If there was light, there was a way to the surface! A particularly intense tremor shook the ground hard enough to make both women lean against the walls for support.
Farrah’s brow twitched downwards as the tremor wore on. This one was longer than the others had been, and she swore that she had heard a voice accompanying it, somewhere nearby. She pushed off from the wall before the tremor had even ended, wobbling deeper into the chamber. Blood droplets trailed across the floor in a lazy curve until coming up to a simple wooden door standing underneath the column of light, sealed shut. Some crates were stacked against the far right wall, while over to the left, Farrah was disquieted to find half-finished paintings on the walls, large blank spots in the canvases marking the spots where the artist couldn’t be bothered to continue.
Her heels lightly clicked against the concrete floor with how firm her footfalls were as she followed the blood, Astraia never far behind. Once Farrah came under the light, she looked up, gently wincing and bringing a hand over her eyes as she breathed out “Sunlight...Thank Lyria. It’s a long way up, but perhaps we could stack enough things to climb up. The crates, perhaps?...” Farrah looked at Astraia and was about to continue her thought when a muffled noise came from the door behind her. Her eyes faintly widened as she spun around, facing the shut door. Her brow lightly furrowed. Her jaw tightened as her eyes briefly dropped to the floor, then rose back up to the doorknob. Before Astraia could stop her, Farrah was confronting the possibility lying before her, grabbing the doorknob before shoving the door inwards.
As soon as she went through the doorway, so many things became apparent all at once, Farrah was left dazed, confused. Her eyes were hit with half a dozen horrors in the same instant. A hobbled man, hunched over and unkempt in dirtied dress clothes, turning to face her, a staff in one hand. A blood-soaked altar behind him, radiating a faint red glow. A throne-like chair, tall and regal, standing behind the altar, with an only vaguely humanoid shape slumping overtop. Behind the throne, a great black chasm in the floor, yawning from one end of the room to the other, an intimidating red glow emanating from within. Farrah’s eyes dropped to the floor.
The trickles of blood that ran into the room went straight up to the altar. Another trail ran off to the side, leading right up to three prone forms on the floor, covered over in navy blue cloth...One of which was no bigger than a teenager. Farrah’s brow furrowed deep. Not all of what she had seen had instantly clicked in her mind, but the three bodies were one of the things that had. Her lips parted as she furiously bared her teeth, looking at the hobbled man before barking out “Pann Novambles! Enough is enough! What have you done?!” Astraia came into the room close behind Farrah, prompting the unkempt man to point his staff at her, giving her a wild-eyed look. When Astraia took stock of the situation, her expression went grim. Her hands tightened at her chakrams.
Farrah squeezed the sceptre in her hand so tightly, she could’ve snapped the wood of the shaft. Pann Novambles was dressed in fine black silks that looked like they had gone weeks without washing, leaving him looking like a peasant in his wrinkled, dust-covered, blood-spattered shirt and dress pants. The sleeves of his black shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, exposing how his hands and wrists were stained red in dry, cracking blood. His pants had a couple tears in them, here and there, along with the dark stains of blood. His hair was wild and gray, long and greasy, obviously uncared for. His facial hair was no better off, looking positively scruffy and untamed, frazzled in a long beard.
The staff he held in his hand was a little over a meter long, with a jagged piece of red crystal at the tip, split into a “V” shape. A threatening pinpoint of light, red like chaos magic, shone from the valley between the two crystal prongs, aimed squarely at the Kollossae. The shaft, formed from a length of blackened wood, had been decorated with multiple tight rings all along the grip, from base to tip. His eyes, a bright gold, were alert and keen, but his hasty breathing proved he wasn’t quite in the frame of mind for negotiating. The man was clearly a little agitated at this intrusion upon his estate, such as it was.
The altar behind him had a lit red candle at either end, and the white tablecloth that had been draped over it was so soaked in blood, a crimson that seemed so fresh, that it could’ve been dripping onto the floor, even then. As it was, the stuff almost seemed to emit it’s own luminescence, as if it were magically charged. Behind the altar, the throne, and the figure sitting over it...Farrah’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She couldn’t find it in herself to gasp. Tears flooded her eyes as her jaw dropped. She raised her trembling hands to her mouth, covering it. No. The aged man turned his eyes to her and started to smile. He barely shifted his head in a few nods. His voice a sighing breath, he exclaimed “Yes. It’s true. It was all always true. Chaos magic can revitalize somebody’s body!”
Farrah’s brow began to furrow, all over again. She bared her teeth in another snarl, looked at Lord Novambles, and nearly screamed “What have you done to him?! He’s your son! What have you done to him, you monster?! How could you do this to your own flesh and blood?!” Lord Novambles shifted his staff off of Astraia, pointed it at Farrah, and accusingly muttered “So speaks the effeminate little brat who caused this, to begin with. If not for you, my son would’ve been spared this fate. I’ve only attempted to undo the misery you caused, Beaumont.” Farrah unknitted her brow and arched her eyebrows high, dropped her hands from her mouth, and resolutely shook her head. “I never did this,” she refuted. “I hurt Rupheus, but I didn’t do this!”
The figure over the throne gave a groan, which Lord Novambles seemed to ignore. Farrah, however, looked past him, her face twisting up in agony as tears spilled down her cheeks. Astraia calmly glanced at the malformed figure over the throne, but more worrying than that was the chasm behind it. She could feel it, the source of the chaos magic lay within, pouring upwards, tainting the very earth, despoiling the entire area. No doubt it was the cause of the earthquakes now shaking the estate, but she found it likely that Pann Novambles had done something to agitate the situation, now that somebody uninvited had come to the mansion. Looking back at Pann, she flatly asked “The Niskaru. Your doing?”
One corner of Lord Novambles’ cracked, split lips rose up. His eyes turned to Astraia as the words began spilling from his mouth. “They said it was madness,” he muttered. “The magi at the Scholia Arcana. They told me that nothing could be done, that Rupheus was doomed to his fate. I rejected that answer. Fate, itself, has been undone - nobody is doomed to anything, anymore. The texts made it clear that the body is but clay, so easily mouldable, and the mind is but mist trapped inside. With the right influences, the right impossibilities can be overcome. Blood for impossible change! The Bassawin woman told me that trafficking with Niskaru would leave me mad, but the only thing that’s happened is, I’ve learned the truth!”
He arched his eyebrows, held his staff up high over his head, and raised his voice. “The Niskaru are mine to command! They’re my peons, my new courtiers, my soldiers and bodyguards!” “You’re insane. Niskaru are pure Chaos! We mortals can’t comprehend their influence!” Astraia retorted, indignantly. Lord Novambles stuck his staff out and pointed the tip at her, sidestepping a few paces, watching her carefully. He bared his teeth as he snapped “I don’t need to comprehend them to control them, or to know how they can help. They can solve problems no mortal can!” Desperation entered the man’s voice as he croaked “I tried everything. Don’t you understand? Everything!”
His voice tightened as he blurted out “I tried every potion, every poultice, every salve, and nothing worked! Magic could do nothing! Alchemy could do nothing! My son, my son, my heir, was reduced to a husk!” His eyes blazed as he pointed his staff at Farrah, adding “Because of you.” “I never wanted Rupheus to be hurt! It was an accident!” Farrah protested, her chin quivering. Lord Novambles thrust out his free arm, pointing a finger at the throne. Tears filled his eyes, too, as he yelled “Look at what you did! Look at what you did to my son! Paralyzed, brain damaged, your fault! All I wanted was my son back! You tore my family apart! You faced no punishment!”
“It wasn’t my fault! Rupheus saved my life, Pann!” Farrah further protested, barely able to glance at the throne before closing her eyes. The rod of the sceptre’s grip, held tight in her hand, began to tingle. Rivulets left wet streaks down her face as she grimaced, then shuddered out “I’m sorry, I’ve always...I-I’ve always regretted what happened, I...I just couldn’t face you all, afterwards! I’m so sorry!” Lord Novambles momentarily pressed his lips tight together, then gently shook his head. In a breathless mutter, he snapped “You had twenty-six years to feel sorry, Beaumont. Twenty-six years, we endured. But no more. My dearest Yennefer, my sweet Sophitia, my boy, Herakles...”
“...You sacrificed them,” Astraia quietly mumbled. When Pann nodded, she could only close her eyes and shake her head. “We were all dead inside,” Lord Novambles flatly explained. His lips curved into a shaky smile. He shrugged with his eyebrows and mumbled “I set them free. They fuelled the magic to revitalize Rupheus’ mind and body. But, it’s not enough. I don’t know how much I’ll need, just...More. I didn’t want anyone to come looking and interfere. I could’ve just used the servants, but this was none of their affair or concern. I let them go. But, the Beaumont child who caused all of this?...You’d make a fitting addition to the ceremony. I had to...I had to hobble Rupheus at one point, you see. For his own good.”
Tears crept from the corners of the man’s eyes as he almost began blubbering. In a weak, pitiful voice, the man confessed “Rupheus tried escaping, at one point. I almost had his mobility restored, a-and then, and then he...He tried to...Leave the estate. I don’t know for where. He wasn’t fit to be seen by Whitedown society, so I...I had to paralyze him, all over again. And...The more magic I pour into him, the worse he seems to get, the harder it becomes to shape him back the way he should be! But, I, I know I can do it! I just need more time!” Farrah arched her eyebrows. In little more than a whisper, she exclaimed “He’s already gone, Pann...Why can’t you see that? The Rupheus we knew is gone, now more than ever. After what you’ve done...”
She barely shook her head. “This isn’t a mercy, anymore,” she asserted. “This is barely a compassionate mistake. This is just torture...You need to let him go.” “No!” Lord Novambles took a threatening step towards her, brow furrowing deep in a wide-eyed glare as he pointed his staff directly towards her face. “How dare you! You speak to me of letting go when you let him go the very next day?! I’m his father! He’s my son, my boy, the first child I ever welcomed into this world! If you felt so much sympathy for him, you’d submit yourself to the ceremony, and allow yourself to better rejuvenate him! Or is that too much to ask of the precious Beaumont boy, coddled even in the face of maiming!”
The sceptre chilled her palm like an icicle. Farrah’s grief twisted into rage as she snapped “I was hardly coddled, you blind old fool! Sophitia’s birthday has haunted me all these long years! However worse your suffering was, do not pretend to know that I simply felt nothing and brushed off the entire event! It has gnawed at me every day!” Farrah threw up the sceptre and pointed it at him, too upset to notice the frost billowing off of the tip. Her lips twisting into a grimace, she loudly added “How could you expect me to face you, after what happened?! Call me weak if you want, but I just couldn’t bear to speak with any of you! Do you mean to tell me that you would’ve even accepted my condolences? What happened to Rupheus has always torn at me!”
Lord Novambles’ eyes gave a dangerous glint. The glow at the end of his staff intensified until it glowed like a miniature star. A fresh rumbling in the ground abruptly began, more than a mere tremor or aftershock. Now, a new earthquake, entirely, began to rise up, shaking the ground so hard that Farrah ended up dropping to a knee, supporting herself on her hands. Pann Novambles pointed his staff down at her, wobbling and stumbling from side to side as he fought to keep his balance. He shouted something, but over the wild rumblings echoing up from the nearby chasm, neither Farrah nor Astraia could make it out. Astraia made the quick decision to throw out one of her chakrams before the nobleman could harm Farrah, and her blade struck true.
The chakram flew through the air and cut the man across the throat, instantly sending a waterfall of red down his chest, droplets briefly spritzing out on the air as his flesh was split. His expression turned stunned as the chakram flew back to Astraia, expertly caught by the Kollossae warrior. He grabbed his throat with his free hand, trying to stop the bleeding. He stumbled to the side, but attempted to fire a blazing red bolt of magic at Farrah, at the same time. The magic narrowly missed her shoulder, erupting against the floor behind her with enough force to shatter the concrete. Farrah clenched her teeth and watched, dismayed, as Lord Pann Novambles tripped and collapsed to his knees, then fell over onto his side, the staff clattering against the hard floor.
As the earthquake subsided, the hissing howls of Niskaru filled the air, seemingly from all directions. Astraia looked towards the nearby chasm, then towards the doorway behind them. She hastily grabbed the opened door and swung it shut, slamming it closed. The Niskaru likely knew that their summoner was in peril, and would rush to his defence to save him before he perished. Farrah hastily crawled across the floor, numbly noticing the frost falling from the sceptre in her hand. It shouldn’t have activated at her touch - as far as she knew, she had always been without magic, at least to a level that would enable sorcery and the manipulation thereof. The sceptre, now activated, contradicted that notion.
Farrah came up to Pann and pulled him over from his side, putting him to his back. She grabbed him by his shoulder, shaking him, demanding “The key to the basement door - where is it?! You locked yourself in, correct? Where did you put the key?” Pann gurgled his own blood, feebly raising an arm, pointing towards the chasm behind the altar. He barely smiled, and then the look on his face began to vanish, weakening until his eyes went distant. Farrah’s jaw tightened in wrath, but the feeling quickly subsided as he slipped away. Astraia listened as the howls of Niskaru abruptly cut off and ceased, the echoes in the hallways on the other side of the door trailing off.
In the same instant, the hellish red glow from the chasm disappeared, vanishing like candlelight snuffed out. The glow of the blood on the altar subsided. All at once, the room went black. Astraia raised one of her chakrams and filled the room with the peaceful blue glow of her weapon’s magic, looking over before speaking Farrah’s name. Farrah didn’t move straight away, but when the figure over the throne groaned, she stirred. She rose to her feet, quietly stating “...He’s gone.” Astraia nodded, softly answering “I know. The Niskaru are gone, too, I believe. They were bound to him, and when he died...” Farrah turned around. She looked down, briefly giving Pann’s staff a glance before walking over to the Kollossae. “It’s...Not over yet, I’m afraid,” she mumbled. Her throat audibly cracked as she looked up into the giantess’ eyes. “Please,” she hoarsely requested, “lend me one of your rings. I can’t use a sceptre, for this.”
Astraia swallowed some excess saliva. Without a word, she held up her other chakram, offering it to the Ljosalfar. Farrah reached up and took the large, flat ring of metal, feeling it’s surprising weight, the way the metal almost seemed to vibrate against her skin. She drew in a breath, then gave a shaky sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment, then turned and began to walk towards the throne. Tears trickled anew from her golden eyes. Her mouth hung open, for a moment, as her jaw trembled, but eventually, she whispered “Rupheus...Can you hear me?...Lord Rupheus, it’s me...It’s alright, now...He can’t hurt you, anymore...” She gave a shaky smile as she reached out and touched the side of his face. He opened his eyes partway, looking at her. She lightly raised her eyebrows, murmuring “Do you remember me?...”
His mouth opened a crack. A second later, he slowly croaked “F...Fenris?...”
Farrah barely nodded. Hearing his voice, again, nearly had her giving a sob. The wet streaks down her cheeks widened as her throat tightened. “Yes...I’m so sorry, Rupheus...I never forgot you...I’m so sorry I never came to see you...I couldn’t face you after what happened, I was...I was ashamed. But...I won’t abandon you now.” She sniffled, then raised the chakram to his throat. Arching her eyebrows, she breathed “Go to Lyria, my love. She’ll make this all a bad dream.”
Rupheus closed his eyes. “I’m...Sorry...”
Farrah gently shook her head. “No,” she simply whispered. She waited a couple moments, then...He had been freed. Astraia slowly exhaled. She pulled open the door behind herself, allowing the beam of light to creep into the room, casting a pillar across the floor towards the throne. Farrah didn’t move, hanging her head down as her body trembled, her back rising and falling in quick repetition. Astraia gave her the time she needed in silence. She knew now, at least partially, why Ethene had wanted her to make this pilgrimage: to help Farrah find closure, and to rid Whitedown of these Niskaru. Pann Novambles had summoned forth so many of the beasts, if they had spilled out of the estate, they could’ve overran the countryside. Now, the people of Whitedown were safe.
A short time later, a powdery cloud of snow was thrown up in the middle of a barren, endless field. A thick glass window was pushed upwards by a smooth, stone-like hand, throwing it open as wide as it could. Then, another hand came up, both grabbing the sides of the opening. Astraia pulled herself up through the window with a grunt of exertion, instantly shivering as an arctic gust of wind blew across the snow and enveloped her body. She pulled herself through until she could roll out onto solid ground, falling into the snow. She pulled herself back over to the opening and reached an arm down, urging Farrah to take her by the hand. Farrah jumped as high as she could from the crates they had stacked together, unable to properly grasp Astraia.
Instead, the Kollossae gently grabbed her forearm, reassuring the Alfar that she’d be able to pull her up and out. She carefully lifted Farrah up through the opening like a ragdoll, the Ljosalfar trying not to move her legs as she was suspended up into open air. Astraia gave a grunt of exertion as she put a knee underneath herself and started standing, her big hand carefully taking Farrah by a curvy hip for added support before setting her down on her feet, in the snow. She let go of the noblewoman, and Farrah was quick to step away from the opening, then shut it as an added precaution. Unperturbed by the chill in the air, Farrah quickly looked around until she spotted the nearby estate. She nodded Astraia on, and the two departed to reunite with their entourage.
Things passed Farrah by in a bit of a blur, after that point. A soldier with medical supplies cleaned and dressed Farrah’s forehead cut, who then allowed Astraia to handle most of the explanations, so eager was she to retreat to the solace of her carriage. When the officers of the soldiers present learned of the good lord Novambles’ actions, many of them were furious with themselves that nobody had attempted to investigate the estate earlier, and for being unable to aid Farrah against a threat as grievous as Niskaru. Astraia reassured them as best she could, but it was only Farrah’s consolations that assuaged their guilt. Farrah attempted to close the book on the entire excursion to the Novambles Estate by stating that the clan had died out. Their lineage was over, and it was time for the visitors to all return home.
Before she could retreat to her carriage, Officer Heschua had a few private words with her, which Astraia saw fit to respect with a proper distance. When all was said and done, the doors to the condemned estate were closed, everyone boarded their carriages, and the last living souls on the mansion grounds departed, leaving behind what little remained. Inside her personal carriage, Farrah quietly rifled through some of the papers Officer Heschua had passed on, watched silently by Astraia. Lord Novambles’ personal sceptre lay on the couch beside Farrah, close at hand in the event she’d need it...Personal reassurance and a way to cope, Astraia supposed. Neither of them had said a thing to each other, since the departure had begun. That didn’t last long, once they had properly left the estate grounds.
Farrah abruptly gave a sigh, looking up from the papers. She looked over towards her right, peering out through the narrow window in her carriage door. Softly, she asked “My dear, do you still have that assassin’s dagger?” Astraia raised her eyebrows and blurted out “Oh, yes, I do. It’s right here.” Farrah looked over as the Kollossae slipped the sleek, matte dagger out from her hosen, briefly holding it up for Farrah to see before setting it down on the couch, next to herself. Farrah gave a little nod and sighed inwardly, breathing out “Very good...” She set aside the papers, slipping them from her lap until she placed the thin stack down next to the ivory sceptre.
With a faint smile, Farrah tapped the sceptre with a fingertip, then murmured “I never knew I was with magic...Normally, it manifests much earlier on, in life. I may still be unable to cast spells, but...At the very least, the sceptre responded to me.” She raised her eyebrows, turning her eyes to Astraia as she lightly added “Perhaps I’ll need a tutor. I’m sure I could hire the best in Whitedown, and beyond...But, perhaps you’d prefer a chance at the opportunity, yourself?” Astraia smiled, politely answering “I’d love to, Farrah.” Farrah nodded, smiling more. Quietly she answered “Wonderful. First, however, my father will want to hear of the assassin. I’m sure he’ll have patrols out across Whitedown inside the hour. And, I believe we may already be able to narrow down the assassin’s country of origin.”
Her brow knitted in thought as she turned her eyes back down to the papers. She reached over and lifted a page to peer at the one behind it, absorbed in her own thoughts as she slowly mumbled “Twice, once in his journal and once when we spoke with him, Pann mentioned a woman from Bassawin, and how she attempted to warn him away from chaos magic. I’m beginning to suspect that this woman and our assassin are one and the same. At the very least, when we have that dagger investigated, Bassawin will be the first place I’ll have checked. However, there’s something else here...These pages are all things Officer Heschua deemed suspect.”
Her brow furrowed deeper as she flatly stated “There’s an appointment written here for only a couple weeks ago, where some of the brothers of the Clementine Cathedral were apparently intending on visiting the estate...Only to be turned away, of course. That troubles me. Why would the brothers make such a lengthy trip to see the Novambles clan? It’s bizarre. Given the current circumstances, I can’t overlook any potential involvement, on their part.” She gave a little sigh, looked over at Astraia, and flatly stated “We should make the trip to the cathedral as soon as possible. I’d like to put a few questions to the brothers and see what their interest might’ve been in Rupheus’ family. But, until then...”
Farrah’s shoulders slumped with a slow, deep sigh, a weary look coming over her eyes as she began to smile. Obviously fatigued, she softly said “I haven’t properly thanked you for your aid today, Astraia. If you hadn’t been there, my dear, I have no doubts that I would’ve perished. I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself against a Niskaru, and I doubt I would’ve fared much better against Lord Pann, himself...Not to mention how you made our escape possible. On behalf of the Beaumont family, you have my gratitude...And, on a personal level, I thank you.” Farrah looked downwards, her smile faltering as her eyes went distant. She barely tilted her head to the side as she sighed out “...Rupheus deserved better...The entire family did.”
Astraia gave a slow nod, gently answering “That’s quite alright, Farrah. I’m glad I was able to help bring a proper end to this issue...Bringing you closure, most of all. I’m sure today has been rough on you.” Farrah gave another little sigh, murmuring “No more than was to be expected, but...I suppose I could use a drink.” With her smile growing again, Farrah gently arched her eyebrows, agreeably offering “Care to join me for some brandy, my dear?” Astraia smiled and cooed to the affirmative. Her smile widening, Farrah stood up and carefully walked her way around the short table between the carriage’s two couches, seated herself next to Astraia with a gentle sigh, and opened up one of the cubbyholes in the table, retrieving some glasses and the same bottle of glacial brandy she had shared with Leah, some time before.
She poured them both some small servings, then thought to give Astraia a larger serving, considering the giantess’ greater relative size. With a smile, they clinked rims, and Farrah christened the moment with a soft-spoken “To new beginnings.” Astraia sipped from her glass, but Farrah tilted her’s back and downed the whole mouthful in one shot, gave a silent sigh, and set about making herself a second drink. The second one, she properly took her time with, slowly sipping away at the cool, minty beverage as she watched the white world roll past, through the carriage window.
If the two of them would be heading through Odarath again, perhaps they could take a look around for Leah? Farrah would adore to see the young Almain again, and if she introduced her to Astraia...Oh...Seeing the petite trap in the giantess’ arms was enough to make the Alfar clear her throat and stroke a crease out of her dress. She smiled from ear to ear as the drink had her fatigue overwhelming her, further and further. Today would take some time to recover from, she thought. Friends, old and new, would make the process easier. She leaned against Astraia’s side, her heavy-lidded eyes easing half-closed. Yes...Seeing Leah, again, would be nice...
(Author's Note - Hey, guys! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to come out than would’ve been nice^_^”. I was a bit distracted with other stories, but hey, at least it didn’t take it two or three months to come out, right? D: So, in this chapter, the mystery at the Novambles Estate is brought to a close, but new leads promise a continuation in Farrah’s investigations. Now, it seems like the Clementines are implicated in yet another event larger than their meeting with Astraia: first, Malchiorn suggesting they’re investigating chaos magic to undo the damage it causes, and now, an attempted contact with Pann Novambles, after he had already begun using chaos magic. What were their intentions?
Whatever the case, it encourages Farrah to check in with them, bringing Astraia along for the ride...And, makes her think of checking in with Leah the bubble-butted trap, too. :D Sounds like the gang’s all coming together! I wonder how Farrah will react to Leah’s new bust? How will Kelly and Miriam react to Farrah and Astraia, and vice versa? Who is this mysterious Bassawin woman? Are her intentions similar to Malchiorn’s in the battling of chaos magic? Were Farrah and Astraia dangerously enriched by their exposure to chaos magic, just like the other three ladies in the story were? We’ll have to keep reading to find out. :) I hope you enjoyed yourself! If you did, please do leave some feedback, it’s always fun and encouraging to hear readers’ thoughts. :)
I’ll see you in the next one!)
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