Searching For The Darkness
As was often the way; the regiments of the Underking’s army were making their way through the chrysol lit streets of Mekalia. Some grumbling of sand in their boots, others uncomfortably shifting their helms realizing that some such bug or vermin had made its way under the armor. Many more were commenting on the welcomed sight of their home and the growing ache in their souls to find the comfort and peace that came only when they laid upon their own beds.
Aasha watched as her mother and father made their way tenderly down the stone covered city streets. Her mother holding onto her father’s arm, Aasha was unsure as to who was supporting whom. Running to greet them, she felt the strength drain from her whole body as her eyes fell upon the wounds covering not only her father’s robust form, but also her mother’s tiny frame.
Gathering her strength about her, Aasha took hold of her mother’s hand and helped to guide her father to their home. After attending to her parents and seeing them both put to bed; fed, cleaned, symbiote and poultice covered, Aasha made her way back to the main square, hoping to hear some word of what had befallen her parents upon their last journey from the earthen home.
The bustle of the city was intoxicating. Heralds of the Underking made their way through the streets bellowing tales of the valor and bravery shown by the Mekalian soldiers. Children ran unattended into the late hours of the night. Their parents were being cared for by their grandparents: a task such as that required that no little ones be under foot, else the bandages would be spoiled, tonics spilled, poultices ruined. But none spoke of the tragedy that had assaulted the forces.
It seemed almost all minds were flooded with the awareness of joyful reunions occurring throughout the city, and the overwhelming good fortune that although many were mortally wounded, none were lost. Those sentiments were resounded by the cheerful city bells ringing out, echoing richly through the city; from the Sanctum of the Deepdark to the Menagerie of Telon where the beasts rumbled in protest of the Gnomish celebrations. As such, not even whispers were spoken of the battle waged and by whom, or what, the injuries were inflicted.
Aasha knew, from the many times her parents had returned from war, that in the nights to follow the meeting hall would be filled with soldiers of all ranks discussing the plans for the next assault, but she could not wait for these meetings to find out what befell her parents. Even if she had the patience to wait for these sessions, she knew that she would not be able to attend. Although she was the child of a very skilled Warrior and an immensely talented Cleric; a team renowned on the battlefields of Telon, Aasha’s skills as a Blood Mage were yet to have been proven among the military elite. Therefore, the council doors would be closed to her.
Worry laid upon her face, unmistaken by any that she passed. Never before had her father refused to speak with her about whom or what assaulted the troupes outside the safety of Mekalia. There was only one she could trust. One who would follow her to the ends of Telon itself, seeking not only the knowledge of what had assaulted her parents, but also vengeance for that assault. Walking, eye closed, and full of purpose, she made her way to a dark crevice in the city wall, from whence a putrid smell caught in the stale city air.
Goner; a foul beast, grated his talons along the stone covered ground and gnashed his teeth fiercely. He protested Aasha’s arrival and raised his massive clawed limb to strike, lowering it, finally, when he recognized her scent and retreated into the darkness beside his master. There; meditating upon a stone, hands soaked in blood, the rotting remains of a skull resting in the basin formed by two small, Gnomish hands, was the one Aasha sought.
Quietly, barely a whisper parting her lips, Aasha spoke. “Zakonax, awaken.” The dark eyed Gnome turned his face to hers. Deep set eyes told more stories of his life than would ever pass his lips, for his was a secret way. A way that many considered rude, unflinching: more so, unappreciative of other lives and liberties. He simply saw it as the only path for a Necromancer to follow: ever living in that place of none light and none dark. Dancing on the razor’s edge that was the fine line between the abyss and the land of the living soul; Zakonax dwelled there, content.
Zakonax set the skull aside, dusting his hand upon his cloak, he reached out to her. “What troubles you, young one? Your face wears worry as I have never seen it, and your soul screams out in torment. Have you forgotten it is my calling to hear those screams most profoundly?” Aasha lowered her eyes from his and spoke once again in nothing more than a whisper, allowing her rage to cut the stillness like a dagger. “I must know what befell my parents. I must know what beast tore at my father like a dog with a ragged toy. My mother, her eyes bleed! What has she seen? What trauma has caused the gods to send her such visions that they leave upon her face trails of her life essence itself?” Nothing more needed to be spoken. Zakonax knew Aasha would rest none until she found what had caused such pain to her parents.
Turning with a shudder to Zakonax, Aasha spoke gravely. “We must find companions, for I fear this quest is one that will take our lives should we move alone. We will travel the lands of Telon seeking knowledge, power and understanding of the ancient mysteries. We will take with us all those willing and wanting to join. We will follow the paths laid before us as the gods see fit. But of my quest, we must never speak to any, else we will be seen as more than the eager minded students in hopes of finding knowledge. We must keep this cloak upon us, taking only those that the gods choose for our companions. We can take comfort in the knowledge that this will not be a betrayal to our companions; for those in our company will too wear an illusion upon themselves so as to keep their true purpose or cause solely to themselves.”
Nodding lightly, a simple agreement, Zakonax and Aasha departed from Mekalia before dawn. As the sun broke hard and unrestrained upon the earth, a dark omen came upon them. A sandstorm whipped its way across the dunes, tearing and ripping all in its path, but nothing would keep them from their most challenging of tasks; creating a family with whom they could feel secure, be trusted and trust.
