The Quicksand Singularity ArQive: Array.init:0

A0T1.2 Arrivals

Thirty Tanno ago, it was only Beacons—the most powerful of Relicborn Farseers—who spoke of this 'Fog of Madness', calling it a pernicious thing, singing to them like sirens to sailors. Most had the wherewithal to resist the siren song, at first. In the Tanno that followed, more and more Farseers had claimed of, or fallen to, the Fog of Madness and the storms beyond—which no Farseer could see and return from with their mind intact. Even 3rd Rank Neophytes, whose vision was the dimmest of all Farseers, almost universally spoke of nothing but impending storms and the siren song. Only those possessed of singular focus and discipline could resist the call. Those who could not, Ulloriaq had found, were already lost.

"You have the ear of Aisling, do you not?" T'kmak'a asked, drawing Ulloriaq from her thoughts.

"As much as any," Ulloriaq answered.

"Has she said anything of this? Anything which might break T'kwammu of his obsession?"

"Aisling is rarely so plainly spoken," Ulloriaq replied, "she did allude some time ago to portents of fog, but it's impossible to know what she may have been referring to."

"Nothing pleasant, I would gather," T'kmak'a assumed.

"Aisling's riddles have only ever made sense in hindsight. Picking meaning or omen from them, whether for good or for ill, is a path only fools tread."

"Odd that she's considered the greatest Farseer, isn't it? What good is the clarity of vision when she lacks the skill to communicate it?"

"You know my opinions on the Apokalypsos School of Farseers" Ulloriaq replied, hoping T'kmak'a would drop the subject.

Their debates on the philosophies of Apokalypsos versus Moirai Farsight had never born fruit, only bitterness and bruised egos. Both knew the other's position, and neither would cede ground to other.

"Yes, I do," T'kmak'a agreed, "it is a shame Aisling has put such waste to her talent."

"Have your Adepts started having nightmares?" Ulloriaq asked, forcing the subject to change.

"What kind?"

"You know what kind," Ulloriaq answered.

"I'm afraid I don't," T'kmak'a lied.

Something flashed across T'kmak'a's eyes, something Ulloriaq recognised. The High Shaman of the Twelfth Sector Kaidan Temple, Kvtá Éhá Tsàtzv III, had the same look in his before the Twelfth Calamity. A local surge in the Glitch blinded all the Twelfth Kaidan Temple's and sent them into a blood rage from the psychic shock. Collectively, the crazed Farseers slaughtered dozens of Temple Mages and staff before being put down by Halcyon herself.

Ulloriaq had never forgiven herself for the event. Despite Halcyon's repeated attempts to convince her that she couldn't have known, that it was only hindsight and survivor's guilt clouding a clear view of clean hands, she had seen something. Unable to recognise it for what it was, she allowed a disaster to happen, allowed one of the children she had taken from his parents to claw his eyes out and throw himself over a balcony. All the signs were there, but she didn't recognise the reaper. She vowed to never let it happen again. Never.

"I think you do," Ulloriaq called, staring T'kmak'a down.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

The lies. She knew. T'kmak'a knew what was before her. The High Völva could sense it, and Ulloriaq could see the greed, the lust for that power on the Temple Mistress's face.

"Ch'maki," Ulloriaq barked, "come with me! now!"

"No, she's not," T'kmak'a balked, as the girl stood, and, without questioning the command, walked toward Ulloriaq. "She belongs here! Sit down, girl!"

Ch'maki ignored T'kmak'a. The little girl, barefoot and trembling, wrapped her tiny arms around Ulloriaq's leg. Without saying a word, Ulloriaq lifted the child with one arm, saddling Ch'maki on her hip.

"Put the girl down!" T'kmak'a barked, the tiniest note of desperation in her voice.

Turning, Ulloriaq walked away in silence. Any further dialogue with T'kmak'a would endanger everyone. There was a corrupting influence festering inside the High Völva, the same corruption that had eaten away at High Shaman before the Twelfth Calamity. Ulloriaq turned and walked toward the back of the hall.

"Stop!" T'kmak'a ordered, the desperation gone. In its place now was rage, entitlement, and the corruption of Vostok.

Ulloriaq continued toward the exit. The twelve guards moved to intercept her, but the Weathermaster bound them in place with a telekinetic brace.

"Where are you going, Weathermaster!" T'kmak'a exclaimed, indignantly.

Ignoring the Temple Mistress, Ulloriaq continued walking toward the hall's exit.

"I said stop!" T'kmak'a roared, phasing in front of Ulloriaq.

As quickly as T'kmaka teleported she was bound in the same telekinetic brace as her Temple Guards. The Grand Matriarch's face contorted as she struggled to free herself. Veins bulged on her forehead and the tendons in her neck strained as she struggled to no avail against Ulloriaq's will. Closing her eyes, Ulloriaq entered the Temple Mistress's mind. T'kmak'a tried to resist, but to Halcyon's Weathermaster, whose well had no limit, sweeping aside her defences was as brushing dust from the cover of an old book. One psychic lance to her deepest fortresses, and T'kmak'a's focus was lost.

When she opened her eyes, Ulloriaq saw T'kmak'a slumped over, leaning heavily on one of the stately columns lining the perimeter of the room, exhausted and disoriented. Lifting her free hand, Ulloriaq took the staff from T'kmak'a's right. The defeated witch barely looked up as Ulloriaq passed her on the right, taking full possession of the High Völva's talisman—a traditional display of dominance and humiliation. In silence, Ulloriaq left by gate, offering no further taunt, returning her and Ch'maki, to the Qaanaaq's bridge.

"Weathermaster? You're back?" Captain Grace—an Angelic from Dark Sister—reacted, startled upon seeing Ulloriaq appear on the Qaanaaq's Bridge. "With Ch'maki? What happened?"

"Have Cenote prepare a stasis pod," Qaanaaq answered, "and set our course for Soulstar."

"Should I have Utëta send Halcyon a message?"

"Yes," Ulloriaq answered.

"What should it say?"

"Priority One," Ulloriaq said, "Beaconfall Imminent. Quarantine Temple Xhifuu."