The Severaine

Chapter Eleven The Mountain of the Spirits-2

“Endymion. You should know yourself all things in balance.”

“And how is a flower supposed to get us past that?” Marise could feel the danger in the air. Its exact nature was unclear, but given Elly's reaction to her advance she could only assume it was very dangerous indeed.

“What do you know of Endymion?”

“Only what you've told me. Lover of Selene, eternal sleep,” Marise summarised.

“His story does not end with his slumber. His goddess still visited him and bore him over fifty children. Have you heard the expression Selene's kisses?” Marise shook her head. “When moonlight falls on a sleeping mortal it is said this light bathes them in kisses from the goddess.” Elly gestured to the flower now held within her own hand. For the first time Marise noticed how much stronger the glowing aura was. “The flower was driven to extinction because people craved to feel the love of the goddess. They'd pick it and,” Elly pushed her fingers inside the petals to crush the tiny stigma. The light grew brighter, pushing back the darkness to its outer boundary.

Holding Marise's hand she led her forward into the room, the light eclipsing their approach from the ever-watchful eyes. They walked slowly, carefully aware of the scurrying sound of the receding fibres as they moved to grant them passage. The light grew dimmer as a single petal fell to the ground, allowing that which darkness masked to encroach.

Elly quickened their pace. Last time the petals had lasted longer.

“A lover's kiss placates even the most enraged soul, but we do not have much time. Quickly, we should get the book before the petals' magic is exhausted.” Their pace increased as Elly guided them towards the book, each petal seeming to shed quicker than the last. The pulsing of the darkness visibly anticipating the wane of their protection. They approached the sleeping figure, the book resting beside him.

With the book in hand their pace became a run, the fibres rising behind as the small glow barely shrouded them. But one petal remained, its fading luminescence shrivelling as they reached the entrance to the cave. Normally such things would not venture from their domain, yet now it seemed angered, hungry. Elly threw the tome forwards, skillfully knocking the mirror aside as they emerged through the opening. As the moon's ray diverted from its surface the mountain's face reformed, separating them from it.

Marise looked back towards the cave with what almost seemed to be sympathy in her eyes, knowing her thoughts Elly spoke.

“There but for the grace of Night go I.”

“How did you know it was here?” Marise asked after a moment of silent reflection.

“Simple, I brought it here.” Elly seemed to consider something quietly for a moment before speaking again. “It was I who commissioned the second copy, and I could think of no better sentry than one who never sleeps.”

* * *

“Here you go.” Seiken opened his eyes, unsure how much time had passed. Rowmeow had been right, he was tired, he couldn't even remember beginning to sleep and he certainly hadn't been aware of his father's aid entering the room. “Sir Rowmeow requested I bring this to you.” The large silver wolf stated when Seiken hadn't responded to his nuzzles. Seiken looked to the wolf who had, before speaking, dropped the fruit from its mouth to the floor before him. Seiken bent to pick it up.

“Thank you.” He yawned petting the wolf's head affectionately. Since being a child, he had always used this gesture to thank this particular Oneiroi. He looked towards the bed and back to one of his most trusted friends, who also acted as his father's confidant. “Flash, I'm confused, why did he do it?” His question surprised the wolf. Flash was not actually his name, but as a child Seiken had been unable to pronounce Flamatashi and the word he spoke, Flash, had been Seiken's name for him ever since.

“I don't know, as you recall he never spoke to us.” There was a long pause while the two seemed to sit in silent contemplation. “Anyway, I must head back, there is some business for me to attend to on the surface. You look tired, you should try to rest.” With that the wolf left the room sparing a single glance back as Seiken once more refreshed the flannel on the young lady's head.

Seiken thought more on his question. There was something about the situation which still didn't feel right. Night had claimed it was his desire to see his daughter stand beside him. Yet when they were finally reunited, he demanded she took the role of the sacrifice. Why had he asked this of her? Especially when any human life would have sufficed in her stead. Then to brave the Underworld, to walk the lands of Hades, in order to ask for her return. What did he have to offer for this? It was well-known Hades did not easily release any from his kingdom, yet he had done so for Night, for Zo. He couldn't even imagine the price Night had to pay, or promise.

Despite all this, when his daughter was returned she was in this weakened state, the Lord and Lady of the Underworld themselves unable to assist with the repair of her essence. Had he been arrogant, assuming he could succeed where they had failed and revitalise the failing life-force? No, it was unlikely. Night was strategic, he was not one to act on impulse, he must have known her condition. Had his ancient magic failed him? The Grand Planetary Magic his very home channelled had failed to revitalise her, to leave the Oneirois as his final hope. Too much was left to chance; there was a possibility this had been his goal all along, but to what ends?

Seiken could not deny the exhaustion being in her presence had on him, almost as if part of him reached out to her by its own devices; a part of him that could hold her, comfort her, and give her strength while he could not. But what he had just considered was a very old lore indeed, and if it was what he thought it could bring him more trouble than he expected. He chose not to linger on these thoughts, pushing them from his mind where they soon became forgotten.

He looked to the fruit in his hand as if it might offer him some answers to his other concerns, but it did little more than remind him of its presence and the reason why his thoughts spiralled so out of control. He split the fruit in two, its sticky sweet juice coating his hands as some of the tiny berries within ruptured.

* * *

“Here.” Elly placed an old animal skin-bound book on the table before Blackwood as she and Marise took a seat opposite him in the study. He did not seem to have moved since they had last seen him. He sat at the same table, with the same books and parchments spread before him.

“What's this?” He looked to the brown book before looking to them, his eyes fixating on Marise for perhaps a moment longer than had been necessary.

“The Tome of Imletrial.” He looked at her, his eyes blank, showing no sign of recognition. “You know, the book you wanted,” she prompted turning her gaze briefly towards the ceiling rafters.

“Right… right,” he said a second time with a realisation lacking in the first. “What are the results of the parasite introduction on my guests?” Elly knew Blackwood referred to the two 'special ones' he had currently enlisted. There would be four in total and they were who all his experimentation had been preparing for. If all went to plan the third would be joining them shortly and he hoped to have gained more headway by then.

“Despite it being administered orally, it has been accepted and responds well to the call of the Hikoriti. Given their age I am surprised the parasite was accepted without the need for surgery, but its lifespan will be less than a month.” Blackwood smiled; this had been just the answer he was hoping for. It seemed for the time being there would be no need to obtain the reserve who had escaped them. Unless anything happened to one of them in the final stages. For now she could continue as normal, unaware of her unperceived imprisonment. Having her return to him would not be a problem. Fenris had seen to that and, as long as he lived, there was nothing to fear. She wouldn't even require a parasite. He had alternative means to control her, should the need arise. However, he preferred his initial selection, and he had but two more who needed to be brought to him.

* * *

The trek to the Mountain of the Spirits had been a difficult one, and with no sign of the entrance to the Caves of Mysteries they had little choice but to take the three-day hike across the treacherous peaks. The craggy tracks, if they could even be called such, wound their way ever upward with vast sheer drops. They walked with their weight pressed into the mountain, fending off the icy sea winds that battered them from all directions. The higher they climbed the colder it grew. The fine spray riding upon the wind turned to snow and ice almost before their gaze.

The cracking of heavy snow and ice from above filled them with dread, but the mist clutching at the mountain made the world both above and below invisible. Small shallow overhangs created the illusion of safety as rest was taken, but at these heights even Eiji struggled to make cloth ignite. The air was too damp, the oxygen too thin. Their rests were never long, and eventually stopped when fatigue made the respites more tiring than the climb.

The wind howled with deafening roars, mirroring the violence of the ocean far below, and all other sound became lost, even their footsteps. When the fragile path began a downward slant, relief fuelled their steps. As sight and sound slowly returned they allowed themselves a final rest, warming their throbbing limbs as Eiji succeeded in creating a small fire from the kindling and rags they carried. The heat made their fingers burn as blood rushed into the forgotten appendages, and with it came the aching fatigue which briefly saw all but Daniel lost to sleep. He placed a handful of beans in his mouth, the taste now disgusting, but as long as they continued to repel sleep he could endure, and he knew it would not be long before his friends roused and their journey would continue.

When finally the ground's texture turned from rock to soft springy grass they were energised by being so close to their goal. The Mountain of the Spirits lay just over the plains. In silence they turned back, relishing in the sight of their conquered foe, and not one of them uttered a word as their eyes fell upon the almost invisible passage which appeared to tunnel through the mountains. On this side the triangular mountain passage had dove-white stone markers, highlighting the safe passage through. It was as narrow as the paths they had trekked and rendered invisible by the range's sheer size. Only those who knew to look would know to seek this secret shortcut. They turned their back on the mountain range and, without a word, continued in single file.

This location was far different to its counterpart in Darrienia, a place of untold horrors. There was no need for them to scale its sheer cliffs, scrambling from ledge to ledge to find an opening. They simply entered through the large cave found at its base. The only similarity the inner workings of this mountain king had, to the one they had previously walked, were the strange stones that lit the darkness.