Chaos Bleeds

Fate's Denial

“She is still breathing,” Shayn says, holding a hand over the chest of the paladin, golden wild magic seeping through Kelodessia’s armor.

“Your allies have sent a rescue. Do you believe there may be more?”

Shayn winces. “I don’t know. I have never met this paladin before.”

“I want her as an ally.” Thellia takes a step back, crossing her arms. “I had no choice but to defend myself. But if she could be convinced to join us, we will have a better chance at achieving our objective.”

“She doesn’t seem like the type to talk.”

“No. She isn’t.” Amara does not allow her eyes to soften or her lip to quiver. If Kelodessia is truly Aislinn reborn, then she does not have the memories of the past. What was it that caused her own sudden remembrance? If it was a good smack to her head, then Kelodessia’s got that already.

The paladin stirs.

“Bind her. Please.” Thellia hates adding on that last word; but she knows it’s how she can get Shayn to cooperate. “If we are to speak with her, we cannot have her swinging her sword.”

Shayn frowns, but places her hands on the marble floor. Dark vines break through the stone, shattering the inlaid designs before wrapping around Kelodessia’s waist, wrists, and ankles.

“Well done. Thank you.” Thellia smirks. She can put up with a little flattery if it makes the wild ranger more compliant.

Kelodessia inhales sharply, eyes opening. She says nothing to either Shayn or Thellia, instead praying to her goddess almost silently.

“Wait,” Shayn says. “We need to speak. If you were sent to rescue me—”

The paladin laughs. “I can tell when there is nothing to rescue. You’re her creature now.”

The light is nearly blinding. Thellia shields her eyes behind open hands and recoils from the heat. But when the burst of glorious dawn has receded, the paladin is gone and Shayn’s vines are naught but ash.

“Teleportation magic,” Shayn says. “She’s traveled along the currents of divine light.”

“Well, there shouldn’t be any here for her to traverse. This is Katta’s domain.”

“Wherever one of Alyndra’s children walks, so does Alyndra’s light.” Shayn repeats a phrase oft tossed about by the followers of the Dawn goddess.

“We will find her again. We will need her. But we must also find who sent her. If they are your allies, we will need them in the coming fight. You already have your orders from your goddess. I must commune with me. Wait here.” Thellia hands Shayn a water flask and the proximity gem. A test. Thellia can still hunt her down and find her; there is no hiding in the Underrealm from Thellia Barlok. And if she attempts to attack Thellia, well, Thellia is the stronger of the two.

Shayn says nothing, merely nods.

Thellia approaches the statue of Katta. The goddess’s eyes are closed, her arms stretched above her almost seductively, her feet pointed, one knee bent as if she were about to leap into the air and twirl. A dark goddess, yes, but also elegant.

Dark purple mist surrounds her; a symbol that she—or some aspect of her—is here.

Thellia kneels before the avatar of her goddess, hands on her knees, palms up. She takes one deep breath and closes her eyes, opening herself to the goddess.

“You let Alyndra’s whelp escape.” Harsh. Not a question. No opening for Thellia to explain.

“It was not my intent, my lady.”

“You could have killed her. You had the opportunity.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You hold affection for her. A weakness you must purge.”

“She could be an ally, my lady. A tool. Just as I will mold the ranger and bring her to you, I can do the same with Kelodessia.”

“You would bring me a child of light to be rebirthed in my darkness?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Amara balks at the thought, but Thellia crushes the stray, unwanted thought. Amara is dead. Amara is in the past. She is Thellia now. Who or what she was before matters no longer. Her information of events to come is a tool, but nothing more.

No. I won’t become the villain… I won’t make Aislinn, Erika… Any of them, I won’t make them accomplices in this.

If the goddess can hear the wayward thoughts, she does not acknowledge them. “Very well. You have knowledge you should not have. And the source of this knowledge is somehow hidden from me.”

Thellia says nothing, hoping the goddess does not ask her to reveal her source. She cannot show any weakness, not now. And Amara is a weakness.

“This Tollith. I have not heard even a whisper of him. Interesting that the Mother of Forests has some inklings of his activities. But not the whole picture. Do not disclose everything to the ranger. Not until you are sure she is ready to be mine. You will defeat Tollith, yes, and then secure whatever magic or powers he has and make them yours. Do this in my name, and you will be my Paragon. You will rule in my name in the Underrealm and all of my followers across the realm shall answer to you as if you were me.”

“What shall I do once I have learned the source of his power and secured it?”

“We shall discuss that when the time comes. I must know more about it, first. My child. Long have I loved you. Long have I yearned to see you rise up; slay your mother, s*******r your sister, and assume the position of Matriarch. But with this… I can give you more.”

Thellia shivers. The goddess speaks like a lover; not a deity to a follower, but a partner. A paramour. She can almost feel the goddess caress her cheek, divine breath drift across her ear, celestial fingers tangle in her hair.

“Yes, my lady. I shall do as you bid. In your name.”

“I will give you a boon. Another companion.” A wolf leaps from the purple mists, immaterial at first, but slowly solidifying itself before her. “This is Umbra. She will fight beside you. Take care of her.”

As suddenly as the goddess appeared, she is gone again, the purple mist around her statue dissipating.

The wolf approaches Thellia slowly, sniffing her cautiously. Thellia runs a hand across the silver-blue coat of the wolf, trying to read any thoughts behind Umbra’s dark amethyst eyes. “Hello, my companion.”

The wolf headbutts Thellia’s chest and wags her tail.

Thellia rises to her feet again, excitement filling her chest. She clenches her hands into fists and smiles before turn backing to Shayn, softening her expression at the last second. “The goddess has told me who our allies shall be. Elyone, a sorceress from Ayathrei. Illisar, a dhampire scholar from Y’lqua. And Kelodessia, the Paladin of Alyndra. If we can convince her to join us. And she has blessed us with a guardian. This is Umbra.”

Shayn does not hold back her glee as she approaches Umbra and holds out a hand for the wolf to smell. She laughs when the wolf licks her hand and enthusiastically scratches her behind the ears. “Good girl. Yes you are. What a good girl.” She straightens up, tapping her chin. “A scholar in Y’lqua. A dhampir. Y’lqua is in the Underrealm, yes?”

“It is. But it is quite the journey from here. Even if we had a dark-walker with us, it will take some time. And it is one of the few city-states in which the Dusk Elves are not the ruling class. I will not be turned away, but nor will they fling open the gates for me. It is the vampire lords that rule Y’lqua.”

“And once we have recruited our companions? What then? What is our next step?”

“I believe Illisar will have more knowledge. Together, we will figure it out.” Thellia forces a smile. Shayn did not attempt to run, and she did not attempt to attack Thellia while she was praying. She will earn the ranger’s trust. If Khellid could mold this wild elf into a force of destruction, Thellia can make her something more. “My goddess knows little more than your Mother of Forests. A sorcerer going by the name Tollith has begun a ritual that will doom the world if completed. Katta can glean no more information than that. It is up to us to save the world. I am so glad that fate lead you to my garden, my friend.”

Let Amara scream all she wants; this is Thellia’s life. Amara’s ended. Kelodessia is attractive, Thellia must admit. And perhaps they can be lovers in this life, too. But instead of being mere peasants in the grand scheme of things, they can rule this world together in the embrace of Katta as her Paragons. Amara will have what she wants; her lover and her friends at her side. That should be enough.

Umbra leads them out of the sanctuary and back to the road. Thellia spins around, deciding on the best path to Y’lqua. She has a destination now; and she will not be deterred.

Not even by the roving band of Forgotten leering at them from the north. Dusk Elf sons who sought to rise above their station and were struck down by Katta for forgetting their place; abandoned by the goddess and left to be twisted into monsters by the darkness that once nourished them. Damned to wander the Underrealm and be driven mad by Katta’s curse or venture topside and be slaughtered by the denizens of light.

But there are too many. Too many of them, and far too close to the temple of the goddess they despise and fear.

“Not again,” Shayn mutters. “Look what they have with them.”

Thellia squints and extends the shadows at her feet to feel what she might not be able to see. The Forgotten have breseods. Several of them; all leashed like livestock or beasts of burden.

“It’s a twisted form of wild magic, and unstable,” Shayn says. “They’ve tried to form a pact of partnership with the breseods. But it does not seem like they were willing. The wild magic backfired…” Shayn covers her mouth with both of her hands. “They melded. They are chimeras.”

And they have caught sight of Thellia and Shayn and are advancing, weapons drawn.