Risen From the Ashes

[Megaera]

His question only echoed her own thoughts. It had not been her intention at all, but this world was in a state of change. Who could know what ancient places were disturbed and what might lurk in them?

One might. They had not chosen their path beneath the mountain, it had been chosen for them by someone. Something that she had summoned, and so it would answer her command.

"Usstan quarth dos.", she addressed the spirit, tired of it's half answers, taking command of it.

It might not be speaking through her mate like Tristan was it's personal puppet, but the shaman knew it had not left them. It was being willfully silent, letting them wander into darkness, maybe into danger.

"Tesso udossa vel'uss lu'vel'bol dos ph'. Vel'bol zhah nindol k'lar, lu'vel'bol saibhe ghil?"

She demanded to know what it was. What this place was? What was lurking unseen?"

[Tristan Alastor]

“You know what dwells here. You sense it… as it senses you.”

Tristan twisted toward the sound of the voice, but he saw nothing. Only a flicker of a shadow at the edge of his vision. When the spirit had spoken through him, he had felt an icy mantle settling over his shoulders; now, he felt that same chill almost shifting in the air around them.

“A being beyond your control, dalhar. Summon it at your peril.”

[Megaera]

Not for the first time, Megaera longed for the spirit of her mother, Matier to show herself. Why had she not come? The not knowing was almost as bad as the initial grief that her loss had been. She needed her mother's wisdom, the strongest Nightsister Megaera had ever heard of.. her own mother.. had not survived the Cataclysm..

"I am not a child."

While Tristan sought the source of the disembodied voice, Megaera used the pain and frustration that thoughts of her mother had roused, turning it toward forcing the spirit into their plane of sight.

"I am Megaera, Daughter of Matier and you will obey me. Jous dosstan!", she commanded the spirit to show itself to them.

[Tristan Alastor]

With something like a rush of air and a tear of fabric, a figure lurched forward through Tristan and into the space in front of them. The spirit, a translucent thing that appeared to be made of smoke, whirled on the pair. It had been human once, Tristan wagered, but unlife rendered it’s features strange, as if they were not a fixed thing but a reflection on a rippling pool of water. Was it a trick of the conjuring, or could Tristan see shifting glyphs scorched into the skin of it’s bare neck, crawling like insects beneath the collar of it’s robe.

“Who... are you?”

[Megaera]

The feeling of unease was so great that Megeara felt a strong urge to grab Tristan's hand, drag him if she had to. Run, and keep running until they were out of the darkness, back in fresh air and sunlight, where ancient gods did not wait sleeping. There was no fresh air and sunlight right now though. Only ash clouds, and dry air that evaporated the water from your mouth as you breathed it. And they had very little water to begin with.

There was plenty of water here. There was plenty of space. A city, several cities, could be housed in such a great space. The air was clean, and the this was where the Spirits had led them. They were staying. Even if it meant facing her fears.

"It was a servant of the Old One.." Megaera said. The knowledge of Clan Mothers and Shaman, whose remains were long ago burned in funerary fires, had been contained within her. They knew, so she knew, noting the glyphs, the robes. "..and it's already been summoned.'

'That's why you brought us here..?", she accused the shade.

Megaera could feel it now. It was subtle, so subtle she might not have been aware at all, had she not been acutely searching for the signs, the presence of it. They were already weary, dehydrated and half-starved, so the fact that they were slowly being leeched of their vitality by something, went almost unnoticed.

"Tristan... it's watching us.", her words were said low, only for her mate, but once uttered... the whole cavern seemed to rumble in response.

[Tristan Alastor]

Tristan’s hand found Megaera’s, squeezing her fingers tight. He searched the shadows for any sign that they were being watched, any ethereal pair of eyes staring back at them from within the gloom, but everywhere he looked there seemed to be only darkness. Nonetheless, he felt it, a presence, reverberating through the cavern, as if from inside of the raw rock itself.

The glyph-scarred spirit chuckled, a hollow sound. “It needs no eyes to see you, child,” the spirit said, when Tristan looked towards it with a scowl.

“As… insignificant as you are, it sensed your approach.”

“You lead us here, to it,” Tristan said, dragging his eyes away from the spectre, scanning the cavern further. Inside, he cursed himself. He had lead the way down into the mountain. It had been Megaera’s intention to enhance his senses, to allow him to feel his way to a place where they might find water and shelter. Had he allowed his will, his instincts, to be corrupted by the servant of this Old One?

[Megaera]

Even as Tristan was scowling at the shade, Megaera was already deciding it was no longer of any use. Bothersome even. Disrespectful to the one who could cast it into oblivion, but then... maybe that was what the spirit wanted. Perhaps it was tired of it's restless state.

The Shaman's green eyes crinkled in a parody of a smile. "Insignificant enough to have awoken your master."

Dismissing the spirit as irrelevant when compared with what else lurked, Megaera turned back to Tristan. She knew her mate well enough to sense that he felt responsible for their present circumstances. It was she who had cast the spell, she would argue for her share of the blame, if they had the luxury of that sort of time to indulge. They were going to have to accept that this was their path, and see it through. She believed in Tristan, and in herself.

If It already knew they were here, there was no longer any point in remaining hidden. She was no longer shy about how much magical power she clutched to her, ready to dispel - banish - or smite entirely the first thing that came for them.

It might be helpful, Megeara thought, to see this place as it had been. Closing her eyes, the memories of other Shaman and the collective knowledge of the clans they served, shuffled through her mind like pages until she found what she was looking for. Detailed, firsthand images of this city in life.

When she opened her eyes, she could see it. They were standing in the middle of one main twisting road. Wide enough for rancor-mounted Nightsister's to pass side by side, room to turn even. They were not lit, but massive braziers lined the road, and smaller paths that split from it, leading toward buildings, towers and other paths through the mountain. Megaaera understood that some of them also led to the surface. They would have to see which - if any still had access!

Completely absorbed with what she was seeing, Megaera started forward along a suddenly familiar path, taking Tristan with her. "This way..."

She did not care if the shade followed or not.