PoV:
1. Elinor Irkalla (Ereshkigal, The Sumerian Goddess Of The Dead!)
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Landing on the outer walls of Nethermore, Elinor waited at the edge of the drop to the moat below as Sari’aél returned to continue bringing the tortured women from the previous battlefield, and Noa transported them to the maids, who were all working to help them recover.
Elinor dismissed the Staff of the Dead to grasp her hands behind her back, patiently waiting for the Runic A.I. to transport the critically malnourished and sickened humans to relief.
Lights across the valley showed evidence of the fire; open volcanic vents ejecting their molten rock with the intense draw Noa had been forced to levy against Ke’Thra’Ma’s thermal power grid.
Now that the two powerful combatants were finished with their contest, she was doing her best to pacify the stressed network, yet it would likely be several days before she could get it under control.
Edmon and Voukey were performing damage control, and there would need to be an inspection made of the system after taxing it so heavily, but that would need to wait.
Moving to the side, she peered at the colossal mountain above the permanent cloud cover to their north where Noa made her network; the women her Seraph brought looked at her as if she were flying, most likely delirious from sickness—her maids would tend to their needs.
A sudden sharp gust caught her braid, the chilled wind being expelled from the high-elevation sierra sending its breeze in all directions; the bright, fiery flashes beyond the gray veil were dying down, yet she could see the path of the bubbling lava reaching below the cloud cover at this point.
She had to complete critical points in a short period, and the window to force open the heavens was small; she had time, but only because she’d acted swiftly.
Noa’s stressed smile appeared by her side, a short flicker cutting out her words. “I apologize for—delay, Empress. It has—challenging to manage everything—”
“No need to explain,” Elinor calmly interjected. “All that can be expected of you is to do your best… What is Valentina doing at this moment?”
“Valentina… Oh, the new part-human beast girl that recently returned? Umm… She attempted to sleep in… a tree near the square, but, with the noise of people gathering there, she has moved further away to a rooftop.”
“Mmh.” Elinor’s mouth tightened, scanning the mountain ridges running along her valley before settling on the plateaus blocking the Maw.
We are not prepared… Ishtar’s influence on me has changed things. It isn’t all bad, but I need to return to more of my roots as Irkalla if this Empire and its people are to survive, and Ishtar can help me with that.
“Empress… You seem to be contemplating something serious. Is there s-something—I can help with?”
Her flaming emerald irises drifted from the plateau to Noa, making the girl shiver. “Take me to the Great Hall and wake Valentina.”
“Bring her to you?”
“When she feels comfortable meeting me. I wouldn’t expect her to be instantly mentally prepared to be dragged into an audience; tell her I have a simple task for her to perform.”
Runes encircled them as the A.I. bowed her head. “It will be done.”
Elinor was alone when the symbols dissipated; silence met her ears, causing a small smile to lift her lips. The area had been thoroughly cleaned and polished by the many hands that had nothing better to do in this new world but to keep busy and their minds off the sudden change in their lifestyle.
She exalted in an industrious and hardworking people; slothfulness and pride were typically the two source vices that brought about the downfall of every individual, and enough individuals tainted with that mentality crumbled a nation.
Elinor contacted Tiffany, admiring the craftsmanship around her for a few minutes in the bit of time she’d gained. How goes your task?
“Elinor! Am I to assume you have—have actually handled the two clans already?”
They were never a barrier. The task I left with you?
“Right—ahem, my apologies—erm… I have moved over to using the Jukal corpses we still have as the basis, which can possibly grant a much higher yield than the humans I initially thought of using. I… believe we will have most of what you require done by tomorrow afternoon.”
Focus on the primary projector. I need it done by sometime later tonight, and it needs to be somewhat fast and able to sustain long periods of flight.
“Ooh, hurmm… And still be able to connect to the base receiver, which will be following your combat exploits?”
Correct.
A tad sooner than expected, a torrent of runes brought Valentina a few meters to her left; Noa nodded and left, naturally always present if called.
“E-Empress, you—”
Elinor silenced the girl by holding up a hand and motioning her to follow her into the Throne Room, beginning the casual pace while pointing her to study their surroundings as she finished her conversation with the Witch.
“It’s a hard task… but I will see it done. May I conscript one of the Rune Masters to help provide a runic solution to the ritual limitations I have?”
Work with Noa to find an appropriate time to divert their attention from their already busy schedule in tempering the supervolcano.
“The supervolcano?! Oh… Hmm, so that is what has her so frantic. Heh, understandable. Umm, I will have her join me. Happy hunting!”
Letting the discussion go, Elinor shifted her focus to the tight-muscled tiger-girl, who was unsure what she was supposed to be looking around for.
“What do you see when you look at this place?” Elinor conversationally questioned, smiling at the expert architecture of the city fortress.
“Eh… It’s big, Empress? I-um, I don’t really know what you want me to say.”
“No need to be so uptight,” Elinor chuckled. “Hmm… What I see is a marvel.”
“Well… it is a pretty enormous place… heh, too big, I’d say.”
Elinor’s entertainment didn’t falter as the giant Unintelligent Quen’Talrat quietly opened the Throne Room doors; there would be more further inside at each barrier.
“That’s not what I mean, Valentina… It isn’t the city itself, but the builders… It is the vision behind it and the dedication to it that is something to be admired.”
“These giant gorillas?” the girl mumbled, looking up at the four-and-a-half-meter-tall furry apes. “They were the ones who built it, right? At least, that’s what I heard from other people.”
“They are called Quen’Talrat,” Elinor explained, leading her further into the hall to see Violet’s work in restoring the gaudy palace and layering it with something more befitting to Elinor’s flavor.
“These creatures were nomadic, tribal brutes that were shunned by all neighboring nations… hunted for sport by some, and had not a single vision of what they could become until one incredibly ambitious man was born to a small splinter tribe…”
She gestured to the thrones and gems that came into view far ahead of them in the expansive hallway leading to the audience podium, drawing a picture in the girl’s mind.
“One man inspired all of this in less than three centuries… from nomadic slaves to an empire that required the combined might of eight well-established kingdoms and a vicious underground alpha predator to topple.”
Valentina swallowed, playing with her fingers as she followed Elinor, only making small comments whenever Elinor would break the ensuing silence to add something more, and each addition increased the Beastkin’s nervousness.
“That’s… is a crazy story.”
“Hmm… One dreamer—willing to do what needs to be done—can bring a people out of utter poverty, despite the opposition those around them express, and the same could be said for a people’s downfall. A single individual holds more power than you can fathom, and the collective force of the sheep, while many, can have not one voice among them for generations reach the heavens.”
She used the ramp-like sides of the circular staircase to bring the confused girl into the Hall of Stars, causing her mouth to open in wonder.
“It is rare that a dreamer ever accomplishes something without someone willing to provide a path forward for their ideals, and there was such a being that sparked everything you see… In fact, it was not Ke’Thra’Ma that had this vision but another… The worker is often the visionary’s tool, and it is this shadow that lifts peasants to emperors that is our enemy.”
“Empress,” Valentina whispered, “excuse me, but… can I ask, umm… Why are you telling me this?”
Elinor hummed as they stopped in front of the door leading to the Room of Life. She had stationed Unintelligent Quen’Talrat there, and they opened it to reveal a blinding light and fruit of all kinds; ripe and glistening in all shades of colors on bushes, trees, and at its center, the black obelisk had been turned to a pristine, translucent crystal.
Summoning the Staff of the Dead, Elinor’s gaze wandered from the glorious interior to the fidgeting girl, unsure if she was going to be sacrificed or used in some unsavory way—she hadn’t shown any sign of running, attacking, or pleading—all she wanted was an answer.
“Valentina… There are a great many individuals that have great ideas and visions of the future, and many are called to rise up to take hold of the future. That being said, few accept that call once chosen, and be it from social pressure or their own lack of fortitude, they falter. ”
She turned to hand the girl her staff, making the girl’s panicked gaze fixate on the object. “I have a very keen eye for potential, and I have scouted in my Empire, but only a few budding spirits can accept the burden and gift that I will offer.”
Valentina slowly reached forward and took the spear. “What… do I need to do, Empress?”
“For now,” Elinor motioned to the Life Room, noticing a sharp, chilling finger run down her spine that she chose to ignore, “stab the end at the foot of that tree… Everything else will come in time.”
Pulling in a deep breath, she released it before stepping into the space, causing a swirl of uplifting wind to draw her hair up with the concentrated beads of life she attracted.
The second she passed into the well-maintained space Ke’Thra’Ma had made from Demon’s scattered bits of information, the orb of nearly depleted Death Energy at the top of her staff was snuffed out, leaving behind a galaxy-like white sphere.
Gaining Experience to increase her Levels and Grades was only a byproduct of what she needed to accomplish in destroying the Lethix and Roxim. She already had the battlefield of death necessary to rip open the already frail veil between Heaven and Earth, but, in contrast, she needed its opposite, which had been brought to her on a silver platter by her sister’s attendants.
Valentina slammed the spear into the soil, sweating and finding it hard to breathe as the phenomenally concentrated area of pure Life Energy pressed against her spirit, naturally drawn to her Intelligence and womb to gather around any place it could exert its functional influence.
Fortunately, she wouldn’t be inside long enough for it to force any adverse effects, yet Life Energy, in its own right, was just as dangerous as Death Energy, and this area was so condensed with it that it could generate an immortal—if properly utilized. This fruit could infuse a mortal’s very Essence with the Seed of Eternal Life.
That wasn’t Elinor’s goal, though, and she suspected it was this very purpose Ke’Thra’Ma was attempting to achieve after discovering the fallen Divine artifact in the north; Demon had given him enough hints and research to construct it but never realized the fruits of his labor—no, this was a further, future plot that she had stolen from the Shadowverse being.
Valentina stumbled out of the room for the two apes on either side to use the chains attached to the rungs to pull the two sides shut, sealing Elinor’s staff within to gather the necessary resource she had infused into her weapon.
“Haa-haa-haa… I… I did it, Empress…”
“Excellent work, Valentina,” Elinor congratulated. “To put that into perspective, I do not believe anyone else could have managed it besides Nicole; no one else’s—undead excepting, who would not be suitable—spirit was as robust as yours.”
“Thank, haa, thank you—Empress,” she swallowed, still trying to get herself under control.
“Noa will take you to a place to rest.”
Taking her statement as the order, runes surrounded the girl to carry her away; Elinor shifted to look at Noa as she materialized.
“Empress… It’s nearby…”
“Do not concern yourself with me.”
“Yes…”
Vanishing to leave her in the still atmosphere, Elinor smiled at the empty hallway with the increasing pressure against her psyche. “I wondered when you would reach out next… Becdeth.”
A woman’s ethereal, lulling voice caressed against her ear as if a soft breeze. “Mmh… Supreme Goddess, it seems you have been busy.”
The light tapping from the unseen creature came from further down the corridor as smoke gradually came into existence from obscure, half-dimensional lines to fold into this world, and now with her heightened senses, she confirmed her suspicions.
“You aren’t exactly as you appear, Becdeth… An avatar for something greater… far greater, reaching beyond a veil beyond anything I’ve experienced when dealing with your kind.”
The golden, smiling face enclosing the tentacle-like abomination emerged through the mist with its staff, cloak, and beast-like body.
His voice deepened into a creamy, masculine weave that plucked against her spirit, tingling her skin. “To be greeted by a finger or the head—all is one and the same—to see a piece or a whole; all are Becdeth. Hmm-hmm-hmm.”
Elinor’s fingers tightened around her wrist behind her back as he stood in the distance, changing locations with each blink she took while remaining in his standing, disturbingly relaxed posture. “Are you against me opening the heavens?”
“Against?” she chuckled, slowly swinging her ceremonial spear to the right for another tap to unnaturally echo around them and produce more fog that began to settle around their feet.
“Why would we be against the advancements of Irkalla? We observe and adapt.”
“Adapt to do what? Your kind is a byproduct of Existence’s cancer from where I ruled, but you… are something else.”
“All is for the function of The Dream.” Its voice swapped between genders, rising and falling with the swaying ball and chain at the end of its weapon. “Worship, love, hate, death, life, emptiness… All is meaningless to the sway of the Eternal Dream, and we wax and wane to the ever-flowing melody. To Exist. To Cease to Exist. A struggle of the Open Gate.”
“So… in short, you embody whatever function you have been granted in the dimensions above Existence? Not necessarily puppets, but the notes of a grand composition none but those immersed in the madness understand?”
Working through the cryptic entity’s message, Elinor’s eyes narrowed. “You knew our Existences would be forced into this maelstrom—including yours—and you have entered the fight… in your own way. You have your own opposition in The Dream?”
“Hmm-hmm-hmm. Careful, Supreme Goddess Ereshkigal… You are but one link in many that seek to remain unbroken, and Irkalla’s gates are not so impassible by those within the Outlands, where those of the Fathomless Abyss exert their influence… The Outer Gods of the Two Dreams war… A burrowing pit to reach the Core.”
The smoke obscured the entity as he slipped back through unusual dimensional lines, her voice holding a soft chuckle. “Prepare swiftly for the coming tide of the Great Deep, Supreme Goddess; The Cycle continues, and what one may face will bring another to your land… You cannot face it alone.”
Becdeth faded, leaving her once again with another enigmatic puzzle to solve, and in the ensuing silence, she stood perfectly still, pondering the obvious elements of the message. I can’t face it alone… meaning even with Ishtar and I united, we need to form more alliances.
Vision lifted to the symbol the Eldritch avatar left in the smoke; three waves underneath a spout with two intimidating eyes on either side—she recognized it from the dreams that would bleed into their Existence to various creatures.
So… Dagon is real, and the cryptic waves that feed into our Existence come from an Eldritch Existence near us. And, if Becdeth is to be believed… he is only the beginning.
“Noa, take me to the wall.”
Runes carried her to the location where her Seraph was still delivering the freed women, and she didn’t have to wait long for the golden angel to return her to the savaged battlefield; first light would come within the hour.
Ye’dran had done as he was instructed, hanging all of the strongest warriors from trees, and many of the Ri’bot survivors were looking for their loved ones; not one dared to look at her as Sari’aél brought her back. This would be her last trip to carry the rest of the humans to Nethermore.
The new chief of the two broken clans came running up to her as she settled down. “Empress! I, umm, I did as you said… What do you want us to do now?”
Elinor glanced around the ruined makeshift settlement with a slight frown, noticing her three spirits hovering nearby; Tegrim, his son, and daughter-in-law had performed their duties admirably and would be rewarded for it.
“Make it clear to those who survive that I will rule over this land, yet I will not force them to live within it; if they want a safe place to rebuild their lives without prejudice, Nethermore is open to them, but if they choose to refuse my offer, they will need to find a new place to call their home.”
She focused on a pile of Ri’bot corpses, zombies that died in droves upon attacking the circle, killed by Tegrim using her authority. “There will soon be another battle fought near here; I suggest they leave or join the Great Clans ranks if they seek revenge against me.”
“You… would allow that?” Ye’dran hesitantly mumbled.
“I offer opportunity, Ye’dran… They followed my warning and trusted my promise, and they are alive because of it, but I will not spare them from the consequences of their own design. If they choose to face me, there will not be a second chance.”
“Understood… I will start spreading the news, Empress.” He half-turned before pausing. “And, Empress…”
“Mmh?”
“Thank you…” He shivered, examining the carnage of the gruesome battlefield only littered with his own allies, horrifically turned into enemies. “Thank you for being merciful… I know you could have done far worse.”
“Be sure to not squander the opportunity I gave you to change the hearts of your people.”
“Yes, Empress.”
He hurried off to spread the news, and Elinor shifted her attention to her three dutiful ghosts, unseen by their brethren. Excellent job. You are free to stay and comfort your families, but be sure to remain nearby to receive your reward when the battle starts.
The former Group Leader gave her a formal salute. “We are honored and humbled to have had the opportunity to protect our loved ones, Empress!”
Thirty minutes later, not a sound could be heard in the lingering mist of the shower that had passed, and Elinor stood amid the hanging Chiefs and their warriors, waiting in the morning chill of the first as the sun crept through the ancient trees.
Morning dew cast a shimmer across the blood-stained battlefield; this was the last thing she needed to accomplish before everything was in place—the final domino—and once this was finished, she’d have the entire day and night to investigate Erra’s handiwork underneath her valley.
Sari’aél hovered by her side as the first company of soldiers from the Great Morseng and Polsan inched their way into the forest, observing the unnerving slaughter of what was self-evidently an unnatural conflict.
Ri’bot eating Ri’bot—brother against sister—over two thousand bodies littered the wet mossy floor, and in around a brutal display of the two Clan’s Chiefs stood Elinor.
Five minutes passed, rows of armored Ri’bot surrounding them in layers, until Great Chief Dralix and Great Chief Israg made their appearance with the company of Xaria-Grade warriors that far exceeded the Valley Clan’s number.
Dralix was the first to speak, getting off his Torlim and motioning to his shoulders. “Return one hundred meters.”
“Great Chief—” one of his advisors instantly protested.
A second gesture from Israg cut the man off. “Great Chief Dralix and I will speak to this creature alone; we have spoken!”
“Yes… Great Chiefs…”
Elinor remained neutral, with her Seraph’s amiable smile contrasting the savaged landscape.
It took fifteen minutes before the final hesitant warrior disappeared, and Elinor was impressed they hadn’t opted to have spies in the trees; it showed how respected these two great warriors were, and in terms of fighting prowess, only some of the Desert Ri’bot matched up to these two powerful spirits.
Dralix sucked on his bottom lip, left fingers twitching near one of his two short swords as his friend scrutinized the battleground. “You… turned them mad; what kind of a war is this?”
“Not one we’ve ever been a part of,” Israg muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why did you call us out here… To announce a war against both our clans?”
Meeting their hard eyes, Elinor held a tempered tone. “I will be transparent, Great Chiefs… I know you have your people’s best interests at heart, and you want no part in what you see here. In fact, I trust you will develop a means to mitigate this kind of battle by the time we meet in open combat.”
“It is war then?” Dralix hissed, grip tightening around his hilt. “Why?”
“You fear me, and my growth will frighten your people—our prosperity will threaten your way of life—and there will be forces that will creep among your people to destroy them in perhaps a month, year, or five, but eventually, you will become my enemy.”
Israg scratched his arm, nose twitching with agitation. “A prophecy? I see the powers you wield, and they mirror the whispers of the Great Pits… Do you wish to destroy all life?”
“Hmm-hmm. No, Great Chief Israg… There is no need to take what is already mine; all life is destined for Irkalla. I offer you an opportunity to refine your spirits to become what your tradition finds of most value… I offer you a battlefield to show me your honor and courage.”
Elinor took a deep breath and smiled as a little spiritual green snake slithered up her leg to bury itself within her clothes; he was probably a gift from her son. “I make you a promise… Tomorrow evening, meet me on the plains to our west in open combat, and I will face you alone.
“Every soul that does not falter but stands to face death with the pride of their home, their families, their land… make no mistake, they will lose their life but gain more than you can imagine—show me what the Roxim and Komath could not—show me a people worth a Supreme Goddess’ respect.”
Dralix looked to Israg, who gave him a soft sigh, and they puffed out their chest, setting their brows.
“Great Chief Israg and I have concluded that you must be from either the Great Sky after witnessing the display of your power, and this only confirms it. If it is proof of courage and a right of passage you seek to test, then the Polsan will answer your call.”
Israg forced a sharp smile, chuckling a bit to himself. “To think we’d be able to face a Supreme One, Dralix… We will meet you in the field of combat, and, though we fall to your heavenly arm, our hearts will never falter. The Morseng will stand with the Polsan.”
Task complete, Elinor prompted her Seraph that it was time to go. “Excellent. Have no fear for your families; I only offer joy and peace to the valorous and faithful.”
Rising into the air, she prompted Sari’aél to fly them toward the vast meadow that would be the sight of the coming war; she’d accomplished everything needed, and now she only needed to wait for them to prepare to face her, mind, body, and soul.
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