"My heart may not belong to you, My lady. But my sword and my--," Said Vinan, as the memory reappeared in Valaria's mind again and again. A forced memory.
He fell into the blade meant for Hilda--
"What did you expect me to do? The little brat jumped in front of me! I only did what I thought was right. I faced my opponent!" Valaria's voice sounded like a mouthful of melting mashed potato.
She tried to lift her head. Contrite as she was, Valaria had no strength left to lift Seseh's chin. She tried to speak, but only a gurgle came out.
"You could have let Hilda live! All you had to do was give up Eddipus, forget about being queen, forget about power! Yet, no! She had to die! Because you were covetous, jealous, and envious of someone you could not have! That's why you killed an innocent. That's why Prince Vinan Caspent and his father are now dead. Now their mother will be along with them!" Nyxith spoke. Seseh wept for her husband and son.
"All because of your lust for power."
Seseh learned things about the woman she had once put her blind faith in.
"You should have seen the look on your face! Your eyes! They were so consumed with hate and power. You were blind. You must atone for that! Your days are numbered with Fonde SSique. This is your punishment. Now find a vine." A booming voice called but it didn't come from any of them.
They were in the Hallow and there was nothing Valaria could do to hinder her fate. She had been ensnared justly.
The cave of the Red with its walls beholden of microbes carrying water on their backs was a beautiful place. Although she had lived in Castle Cardamon, Seseh could never conceive anything like it. Looking up was like seeing a living night sky.
The possessed thrall approached a large tree. The verdure perched on an eroded piece of land that jutted out of a dried-up ravine. Sharp-edged stalagmites protruded from the pit below.
Valaria tried to move Seseh's arms, but her limbs fell like jelly. Seseh tried to stand firm, but she kept falling into a faint puddle.
Nyxith tried to hold them together and forced Seseh's form to grab a vine. They found one dangling.
Seseh pulled at it and took it.
Valaria was strong enough to speak again. "I only did those things because I didn't want to be a nobody."
"You're about to become nobody because of what you've done. You need to understand. I forgive you, even Seseh forgive's you. There is one in this cavern who doesn't. Now, make the noose out of that vine and string it over the magic tree." Nyxith spoke.
Valaria focused on Seseh's dripping hands, pulled on the vine, and tied the noose. This time she did not need to force her. Seseh wanted to.
They sloshed back to the tree and she threw the tendril over one of the branches.
"Climb up." Nyxith encouraged her.
The possessed thrall threw her arms willingly into the air and grabbed the plant. Her hands slipped off. Valaria, having no choice, pushed Seseh's arms towards the vine again. With melting fingers, she grabbed the creeper and lifted her up.
The thrall grabbed hold of the tendril with a firm, slippery grip. This was it. Valaria used Seseh's arms to pull herself up until her liquefying face met the loop of the vegetation.
She had enough strength, gritted her teeth, and falling headlong, she burst open in the middle and all Seseh's clay gushed out.
Valaria felt turmoil and choking.
Seseh could not feel her pain. She could sense her weakness as the top portion of her still dangled. She was still spilling out into the deep ravine. She felt her neck snapping.
Seseh's white eyes rolled.
Before Valaria's life was finished, she heard a calm voice. "I forgive you." It was a voice she had never heard before.
Seseh couldn't help it. She was becoming weak. Her form melted through the vine. Seseh was dying. With all her strength, she focused her eyes to look up. Her tongue was already on the move and her head rose.
She wanted her last vision to be the bright cave lifeforms crawling above her. Such a beautiful sight.
Her upper dripping torso danced with a slow, convulsive movement. Seseh's eyes were closing as a portion of Valaria's spirit was carried down by the Death Wanderers.
"Thank you, Nyxith..." Seseh said before closing her eyes completly.
She was gone, melting and dripping loose down the vine.
Seseh, the former Queen of Cardamon, fell, disintegrating into clay-like mush from the vine and into the ravine beneath the tree--
Adeve felt the clay and mud that was once Seseh gather around her trunk and the eroded gorge. It felt nourishing.
Adeve's limb snapped and the branch along with the noose fell below.
'I forgive you.' The tree had whispered to the last of Valaria's spirit. 'I could see what you did was in an effort to preserve yourself. You did not want to feel alone. I cannot say that I regret your passing. You were a hateful and bitter creature. Never the less, I do forgive you."
The last trifle of Valaria's spirit clung to the Winds and listened to Adeve, the magicka sage fruit tree. The words sank into her. They came for the rest of Valaria.
The Death Wanderers flew up from below. They picked up what little was left, and took her to Abbadoth.
Her final Judgment had been carried out. Valaria the wretched had been banished from the world of the living.
Only Nyxith remained.
"It's time to go now." Nyxith heard a gentle voice like soft thunder. "You too are forgiven. For all your transgressions."
She saw him standing in the cave and he revealed himself as the Master. Then she saw his armour, his cloak of lapis, his beard, and flowing white hair. His red eyes glowed in the half-light of the cave. The Master's decorum was magnificent. His countenance was brilliantly beautiful and bright.
She felt the Winds gentle swirl around her.
It was time for her to leave and go to her new home. It was time for her to go to Hovenlla.
He gave a commanding nod and she knew she had been given permission to leave. The Master gave a warm smile and waved his hand.
The Winds vanished. A portal formed above her, the great cavern opened, and sunlight streamed out.
Soon Nyxith was lifted beyond the great Hallow. She journeyed past the stars, on swift steeds of space dust, into the direction of a dream.
The eroded revine became known to all those that dwelt in Hilltop; so it was called in their own language, Akel Vala, which means, Ravine of Valaria.
****
A chilling breeze blew across the North. The air was dry. A faint taste of ash permeated the area. Cawing crows, ravens, and blackbirds filled the air. The children looked at each other, distraught. Mirranda and her younger sister, Rose had a different, distant memory of their home.
Now everything was dead, even the trees.
The Spiderlings had come home, to where? Ezekiel held onto his wife, Aracnia as they roamed the dry, Hellish landscape. Mirranda, on stage six as a Spiderling, felt her spinal legs, abdomen, and spinnerets at full peak. Hair had developed, spreading all around her frame. She had reached full growth and Mirranda's healing saliva was gone from her body. A potent venom was seeping from her fangs now.
It was time for the family to rebuild. The siblings moved further away from their mother and started the process of reseeding. The children began the arduous work, using their legs to dig up dead soil. They made tools and cut down dead white trees. Rose collected the seeds from some and Mirranda replanted them in the ground.
This was their return home. Their home, now dead.
They would have to start fresh. They'd soon settle the North and the land would thrive again now that it seemed free of the elven Witch.
The siblings looked up as a breeze blew the dead, dry leaves and dirt around. Aracnia went to her children. The eldest, now eighteen, and the youngest on stage two. They would be the future of the North and would work hard to bring it back from the dead. Yet, Mirranda felt the need to explore the world of Fonde SSique. She had made the decision to do so as soon as the harvest and everything else ended.
"My children, it is time to take a break. Come with me." Aracnia signaled for them to follow her.
The two walked with her out of the clearing where they were planting. Aracnia led them into the tower. They entered one of the many cellars.
Acorns, fruits, nuts, roots, mushrooms, wildflowers, and herbs hung about. The foliage lay before them as Valaria had left it. An open canopy let in light from above. All the ingredients for food, sustenance, and healing were here in abundance. It looked as if nothing had died.
Ezekiel entered. "I can practice my alchemy as a spicer. I already have the knowledge yet, there's always room for improvement."
Ezekiel thought of all the medicines he could make.
From a corner, Mirranda grabbed Jars of rich, moist, alkaline soil.
"This should help the trees." She said.
Aracnia gathered plants.
Ezekiel found different herbs and flowers growing along walls and in little hollows.
As his mouth watered at the scent of thyme, onion, and rosemary, Mirranda frowned.
"You've not been feeling well."
"I have had a fever for days. Since I left Cardamon, my condition has worsened."
"Then you could do what you do best, Father. Be a spicer and make something."
She gave him a smile and hugged Ezekiel. "I have been practicing," he said.
Ezekiel had noticed Aracnia moving from one part of the cellar to another. She was still gathering things together. She looked pale. More so than any Spiderling should be with a sweaty forehead and palms. Her skin had flaked off her long Spiderling legs. The same was happening to him.
"No worries, Mirranda. I'll be fine. Let's get back to work." He didn't want to worry her about his concerns.
The North had to be remade for her and Rose.
With all the jars of rich, moist, alkaline soil, it was now time to feed the tree seedlings. Mirranda and Rose carried the jars. The children patted the soil deep into the ground where they had planted the seeds. The sun's rays beamed over the area.
They stood, went back to the tower, and looked for a place to sleep for the night--
Time passed. A zeni'ziah (a year).
When the girls walked outside, they could hear the cries of birds. They saw that the trees had grown. The new hours passed, life awoke and the North had been nourished. Mirranda took time to gather a meal from the cellar.
Aracnia walked along the many dark steps and shafts. She reached her old, cavernous cave city below the dark tower. She fell to her knees, crying tears of sorrow and despair, and felt the loss. Aracnia remembered in her sobs the echoed torture of her people.
Aracnia clenched the dirt beneath her feet. She held within her hand the aged grains of golden sand. She starred at market stalls, roads, sleeping quarters, gardens, and monasteries, all in ruin. Piles of the dead were strewn throughout.
She cried over memories. How few. Yet, how they crept through her fingers. Friends and family through her fingers to the deep. The deep of the pit below. A memory of clans and their sons and daughters left to die alone. The memories of men and women she loved with all her heart. Those who had lost dreams and aspirations. She remembered those shattered by the foul demon she only knew as Valaria.
Aracnia coughed and dropped the dirt seeping through her fingers while she wept. She could not grasp them any tighter. She could not save one of her pitiless waves of memories and had to move on.
Aracnia stood up.
It was time to clean up her once-precious city, it was time to bury the dead.
In the middle of a wall, where the gates used to be, was a void. A place where Valaria had dropped those who would not follow her. Aracnia picked up stones and covered the cavern.
She spoke a simple word of remembrance and walked to a pile of bones. They were skulls of men and women killed for rebelling against the elven witch. Her eyes fell on them as she gathered the old remains into a basket. She carried as much of her people as she could, layer by layer. Part by part. Piece by piece up the stairs and out again, then down and up again.
She began digging the graves at the top near the tower, building a small cairn of rocks for each dead. She glanced at one that had already been prepared days ago. Her head lowered and she wept again as she thought of that single grave.
"WHY?!" She cried, "Why did you have to go first?!"
He was a spicer, an alchemist, a medicine man. For her, it didn't make sense.
Yet, Aracnia composed herself once more, seeing her girls close by.
He had looked pale. Much more so than any Spiderling should. He had a sweaty forehead and palms. His skin had been flaking from his Spiderling legs.
The same had been happening to her.
"No worries, children." She whispered to herself. "I'll be fine." She didn't want to worry them about her illness. The North had been remade for Mirranda and Rose. Yet, there was more to do. Once her task was finished, Aracnia went back inside and resumed closing up the ruined city.
The tower belonged to the two as their home now--
Time past. Two zeni'ziahs (years)
Rose and Mirranda emerged, their faces were older.
"Let us go and see Mother and Father," Mirranda spoke, taking her younger sister by the hand.
Rose had entered stage four of her development as a Spiderling. She was fifteen and her spider abdomen was taking on a fuller shape. The growth of her teeth had slowed and stopped. Rose's poison was thickening, but at this stage, it wouldn't be a quick kill if she bit anyone.
They walked a beautiful homemade path, traversing through strong, tall trees. Above them, long webs hung like hammocks over ever-growing gardens. The duo walked silent, sharing a somber moment. Every leaf and branch twitched to make their presence known.
Rose sniffled and suppressed a tear. They were still near the tower. Yet, it felt like they had come a long way. Miranda had watched Aracnia and Ezekiel grow sick as the years flew by. She saw them coughing and shedding, growing weaker. Now she watched Rose reach adulthood.
They approached Aracnia and Ezekiel.
"We're close, Rose." Mirranda paused for a moment.
There they were. They were standing in the near distance.
A howl rang out. Rose screamed and cried. Mirranda knelt down to her and helped her stand. Rose's emotions were in a tangle.
"My sister. Oh, my dear, sweet sister." Mirranda sobbed. "No worries, Rose, we'll be fine. Let us go see our parents." Her Spiderling arms scooped Rose up. They set off again while Rose regained herself.
It was as if someone knocked the wind out of her. Finally, they approached their parents laid to rest under a small cairn of rocks side by side. They had been buried next to the place of their people. As their daughters approached, Rose and Mirranda both wept and fell to the dirt.
Ezekiel and Aracnia had passed on.
Rose's big Spiderling black eyes lifted to the sky as she breathed deep of the crisp cool air. Their parents had left the North for them.
The siblings held hands and said nothing, not even a whisper. Only a whimper. Neither needed to say anything. Both carried a painful emptiness in their hearts.
Neither of them wanted to leave the North, yet, Mirranda knew she had to go. It was a choice to leave and find herself. She placed her hope in Rose. She felt that her sister was old enough to survive on her own. Soon the grief subsided. The pain faded and Rose turned to Mirranda who wiped her face. Mirranda's wide eyes filled with more sparkling tears.
"I have to go out, little sister." Mirranda hugged her. "You're old enough to look after the North." Mirranda felt that adventure was waiting. She wished she could stay longer.
The young girl kissed Rose's cheek as she held Mirranda's long arm tight. Rose looked up at her.
"I can't," Rose murmured back. "I'm afraid you won't come back." She struggled to keep from crying.
"Rose, I am with you." Mirranda shivered, remembering the catacombs below Cardamon, and clung tight to her little sister. "I will always be with you, until the end of the age." Mirranda paused, then continued. "Until the ends of Fonde." She sighed. "No worries, sister. I'll be fine."
She let go and Mirranda turned away from the cairn. She was ready to see the world, she was ready to start living.
Time passed. Two zeni'ziahs (years)
The North stood as bright as the sun. To those passing, they'd never recognize it. It was a perfect oasis and felt welcoming. For Rose, it was home. The sun's warm glow lit up the ground and the trees, sending sparkling rays to kiss every garden and blade of grass.
Birds chirped as they swooped above. Sparrows and Warblers fussed over flowers. Ravens, blackbirds, and crow alike had fled. The Northbound tower stood majestic.
Rose was now at stage six. Spiderling spinal legs, abdomen, and spinnerets had reached adult size. Her hairs developed quick. She was poisonous and could protect herself if need be.
Rose walked out into the bright day.
After much walking, she stopped at the cairn of rocks. She thought of Mirranda and how she had left the North.
Rose missed her, yet knew she was alright. She spoke in a whispered tone.
"No worries, Mirranda. I'm fine."
She lived out in the North, the New North her family built. Rose had felt sadness, yet, it wasn't something she couldn't bear. She was happy, held out hope, and knew that better times were ahead.
****
She finally awoke.
Valaria had noticed her surroundings. Her lips felt chapped. She looked at her skin, expecting it to melt and fall apart but she couldn't even feel the essence of Seseh or Nyxith. Her flesh was spectral blue.
Valaria stood on a platform.
"I'm in Abbadoth."
Fireballs fell from an endless black sky. Water boiled and smoke rose. There was no way out but forward. She walked barefoot. White pillars stood on either side and she felt the searing heat. The screams of the tortured dead pierced the hellscape.
Valaria walked on until she came across a small barge. She climbed aboard and it continued on the lake of fire. The ferryboat stopped at a great crenelated wall and a fortress beyond it.
Two Death Wonderers lounged on either side of a looming door carved into the wall. A red-clad monster with horns and tentacles watched her as he guarded the door.
The only sound besides the screams was the giant's incessant yawning. "Hello there! I need a name." he greeted her. The beast yawned again, opening his large mouth enough to show two sharp fangs. This made Valaria smirk.
She could feel at home in a place like this. Her lips curled, "Valaria, and you are Lord Abbadoth I presume."
He laughed "No, I am Creeu. My lord Abbadoth is within the fortress behind me." Creeu nodded at her and stepped aside. His body glistened near the flames. "Come!" The great doors opened.
She stepped onto a platform and strode to the other side. Valaria saw massive steel chains hanging from iron rafters above her. In each corner was a creature locked in a cage. Even more cages hung outside the chambers containing burnt souls that couldn't die. They felt the gnashing of teeth from the many-eyed Death Wanderers. To one side were butchery hooks from which hung rows of screaming corpses, clawed and burned.
In front of her was a very large dais. On it, covered with rusty chains was a small creature. Valaria walked closer and raised her head.
Valaria blinked and looked close. It seemed to have pointed ears on its head. It was breathing, still alive.
"Abbadoth?" Valaria questioned. It meowed and licked its paw.
Valaria tilted her head in confusion and remained silent. It answered with a downcast expression. Puzzled, Valaria walked to the side of the dais and plopped down on the searing ground. Apart from the constant screams and flames, there fell an awkward silence.
Valaria turned her head and looked up. There was no doubt about what she saw. Her eyes had not deceived her. There, on the dais, lay.
She broke the silence, "Abbadoth... Are you a kisa?"
Abbadoth sighed. She glanced at him. He did not answer. He only stared forward.
It seemed as if he was lost in thought. Valaria also turned away and looked out, lost in thought.
All was silent as the grave aside the screaming. Abbadoth gave a short, low, discouraging meow.