Unearthed Legacy

[Zach Kaiser]

The list of things Valerie Durandal wanted was a mighty long list even during the best times, and in cases right now it grew even longer. She wanted a bath, she wanted something to eat, she wanted a nice, soft bed. She wanted to know where she was. She wanted beat Emil over the head a few times for screwing up the spell. But there was one thing she wanted above else.

I wish those things would stop chasing me! was the phrase that most often went through her head as she ran through the woods as fast as she could. They were black and icky looking, but more importantly she knew that they were violent, savage little beasts that probably saw her as a tasty (if small) meal.

Without any idea where she was--not even what country--she had no idea if there was any shelter nearby or not. But she did know that fighting them was useless, that there were far more than she could handle by herself, so she had no choice but to keep moving.

A break in the scenery ahead of her told her she was nearly out of the forest, or at least hitting a clearing. Please be a town, please please please...one with lots of big, burly guards with lots of weapons and spells. But as she emerged from the canopy her run slowed to a walk, until finally she stopped.

Ruins. Nothing but ruins. Not even recent looking, destroyed-when-the-world-went-to-hell ruins, but old ruins. The kind that were ruins before everything changed, before she'd been alive, before anyone who was alive or anyone remembered by anyone who was alive was alive.

Her heart sank at the sight, and now more than ever she was aware of just how exhausted she was. But before she could dwell too much on her depression she glanced over her shoulder and saw the beady little red eyes approaching, so with a wordless whine she pressed forward.

Perhaps at some point there was more than one building around, but now there was just a single one--well, what was left of one. Maybe it was a castle, or maybe a garrison of some kind, but it definitely wasn't the kind of place she'd consider entering if there weren't monstrous creatures out to eat her at her back. Lots of obstructions like half-collapsed walls lay around, and to her it looked like they'd finish keeling over any second. She gave them a wide berth.

It was as she was climbing through these that an idea stuck her--she might not have enough power to take them out, but a judicious use of it would surely slow the little menaces down! Pausing for a moment to gather her strength, she turned back towards her pursuers, who were not being as careful as she was in avoiding the fragile looking scenery.

"Oh dragon's breath of flame, burn my wrath into the souls of my foes..." She raised her arms to point ahead of her, palms out, as a red glow gathered before them, the gathering power ruffling her red robes. "Fireball!"

A ball of fire appeared before her and shot out immediately, aimed not at her foes as the verse suggested but at the base of a wall the creatures were currently moving around. On impact it exploded violently, engulfing the shades nearby in flames. The wall, however, remained standing.

Val bit her lip in a pout and stamped her foot. Of course, if it was really as close to crumbling as it looked it wouldn't have remained standing this long. While others might have decided it wasn't worth it and ran, she decided that she wasn't going anywhere until she paid her foes back at least a little for the trouble they'd caused her.

"Fireball! Fireball! Fireball! Fireball!" she yelled over and over again, rocking the ruins with explosion upon explosion until there was so much dust in the air that she could no longer see the wall or any of her enemies.

Doubling over, resting her hands on her knees, she panted from exertion. Maybe I scared them off? she wondered to herself. A groan emanated from all around her, the groan of straining rock. She grinned triumphantly and cheered silently. Not only did it seem like she'd scared off those nasty creatures, but she got her revenge on the rebellious spirit of the ruins as well!

It was then that the ground underneath her collapsed.

******

"Ohhh...owwwww....."

She awoke to the sun, blaring down on her from the afternoon sky. She felt like her body was one big, ugly bruise--a bruise that could definitely do for some food, a bath, and something softer to sleep on.

As her mind returned to her along with the last of her memories, she sat up with a jolt, suddenly on the lookout for approaching, ant-like menaces with little red eyes.

Nothing came. There was just the sun, shining down through the hole in the ceiling. The hole in the ceiling that was a good dozen feet off the ground. Where she'd come in through.

She groaned. Give me a break...ugh, I should have studied a levitation spell or two. There was no way she was going to be able to get back up there, not without either a very tall ladder or the power of flight.

Well, someone made this place, so they certainly must have made a way to get inside--and get out. Or so she hoped.

Reality, however, was not so pleasant. Many of the passages were collapsed, and those that were left only led further underground. Lacking any other option, she had no choice but to follow those that were open, backtracking when she reached dead ends, and ultimately traveling several stories below where she'd started.

Ugh, I'm supposed to be going up, not down, she complained to herself as she arrived at the bottom of another set of stairs. It was getting more and more unlikely that she'd find a passage that led back up the surface; maybe she should return, see if she could yell and get someone's attention. As though there would be someone around.

It was only a cursory glance over her shoulder back up the stairs as she considered going back, but it both likely saved her life and simultaneously filled her with dread.

The shades were back. Had they only just found her? Or were they following her for some reason? She didn't know, but what frightened her even more than that was the lone figure towering over them. He couldn't see the details, not by the lone magic light floating by her, but it was definitely the silhouette of a person.

Except his eyes glowed red.

"No...no no no!" She ran--she had no other choice. To use any magic here was to risk the entire place coming down on her. Adrenaline let her weary body keep moving faster than she'd been able to before, down hallways, more stairs, praying for an exit, knowing a single dead end would be her doom.

And then her luck ran out. The hallway ended abruptly, not even in rubble, but an empty room. "No!" She sank to her knees and looked up--there was a hole in the ceiling, but just like that first room, she had no way of reaching it. Desperately she looked around for something, anything, willing an exit to appear and save her.

There was something. A handle, sticking out of a smile pile of rubble in the corner, with a small chain dangling from it. A secret door! She ran to it, grabbed it desperately, pulling on it and pulling on it until it moved.

She tumbled over, the handle seeming to come with her, and she stood up again she panicked, fearing she broke it. She wasn't even that lucky--the handle wasn't a lever at all, but the handle of a weapon. A large dusty scythe. What good would that do her?

Slumping to the ground, clinging to the handle, tears began to blaze trails through the dirt covering her cheeks. Her last ray of hope was shattered--there was nothing to save her now. Some mage she'd turned out to be.

Nothing more stood between her and the shades she was sure were following her. She sat and cried, and waited for the end...

[Nayt]

. . . logos . . .

The general declaration of "word," logos. The root of all language, logos. The raw speaking tongue, the mental formulation of form and figure yet to be spoken, the dialect of reality, the singularity within basic social function--logos. Crying and whimpering, tearing up after shouting and rushing, but speaking all the same--that onomatopoetic logos, formed and rationalized to dictate the sound of duress, of anxiety, of fear, and of pain, all those emotions of misery that remained forever ingrained within her mind. They were like pictures she could never forget, all colors of horror painted on a different canvas for each different victim.

. . . logos . . .

How long had it been since she heard the spoken word, communication between intelligent being, human or god or beast alike, speaking a language for only those with knowledge to comprehend . . .? Something beyond the chirping of birds or chipping of small mammals racing through the corridors . . . how long had it been? When was the last time she conversed with another, or so much heard the voice of another intelligible being? Was it ten years? Fifty years? One hundred? Three hundred, five hundred, one thousand? She had lost count. Had she been sleeping all this time, with all hope lost, forever encased in eternal youth . . .

It felt as if she were parting her lips for the first time, as a corpse, rotten and decayed, possessing only enough muscle and skin structure to move its bones and vibrate partially lost chords to form some type of word--anything, everything, the first thing that came to her mind:

Hwæt . . . eart . . . þū?

The sounds were familiar, and would trail long and soft throughout the girl's mind, a soft, tired female voice of indiscernible age--not elderly, not a child, but far too tired to estimate a true age between. The voice itself was unfamiliar, but the words had a familiar quality, a similar sound to what the girl spoke, herself--an evolved Common that had to start from somewhere. Who are you?

[Zach Kaiser]

Startled at hearing a voice other than her own, Val frantically looked around the room, but could see no one. She couldn't pinpoint its origin, though, and that only frightened her further.

"W-W-Who's there?!" she shouted.

The silhouette she saw earlier was decidedly male, but her terror-stricken mind could not recall that detail. Therefore she could only assume that the voice came from the only other things she seen--the monsters that seemed to be stalking her.

"Don't kill me," she pleaded to the darkness, as though the voice spoke from somewhere beyond the magical light that hovered over her head. "Please, don't kill me."

She clung even tighter to the weapon she holding; it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing to a heap on the floor.

[Nayt]

Mīn nama is . . . Xibtrae . . .

Xibtrae, she had introduced herself. A woman, her voice less fatigued with every passed word, yet all the same, as if she'd not spoken in thousands of years--were it true. She had lost count after one. The days and weeks and months passed by and a whole calender had changed, and she gave up hope for the opportunity to part her lips again.

Perhaps soon it would be clear that this came not from the beast, nor was it a sound imparted to her ears--no, it was a voice plugged into her mind, spoken as if whispering into her brain.

This girl was in trouble. Once she moved her mouth and readjusted herself within her vast loneliness, she started to see again, and slowly feeling was coming back--and she felt a pang of anxiety and fear, and the soulless voids that crouched all around . . .

And she was just a girl, this victim, a young girl--

. . . ic mæg . . . helpan þē . . .

I can help you, she said. I can save you, she declared. For all lost hopes, there was a chance of finding it somewhere, be it in life or death--or in the kind heart of a long forgotten soul, no longer capable of physical feeling, for it resided deep within the past, or even from a lost young girl, a true victim of circumstance, who'd die if she hadn't provided this lost soul a reason to breath . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

"X-Xibtrae?" She stumbled over the foreign sounding name, the name of a woman she could not hear but rather that spoke directly to her mind. Or so it seemed. She didn't know what was going on, and she was in no condition to give the matter deep thought.

She latched onto what the woman said next. "Help me...?" With the way the situation had toyed with her heart until now, she scarcely dared to believe it. If this hope too was crushed, she didn't know what she would do...

"Please," she begged, "save me!"

The darkness seemed to be closing in on her...whether a trick of her mind, a result of her pursuers, or her light spell was fading, she felt like she was seconds from being overtaken by it.

[Nayt]

Dōn mid . . . āhātan mē . . .

Make a pact with me, declared Xibtrae.

At first, she questioned herself. Why was she doing this? On a whim, she was helping the girl--and why? Was it a drive to keep this girl safe, this girl that she had never met before? Or was it a drive for someone to talk to, to keep that person safe, so perhaps she may speak with her more . . .

Eal ēow dōn . . . is cweþan . . . ofer mec . . .

All you must do is repeat after me . . ., she had tried to rush her words, but it hurt so much. Even with the mind's voice, she had not used it in such a long time that she could barely withstand speaking a long sentence, but now, she had to try--and it was difficult. Her accent made it sound different, her accent similar to that found in Ulster, but even stranger than that, perhaps dating back even farther, but not so different that it was indecipherable:

Existo licens, bellus animus--

--Consummo quas pro caelestis--

Xibtrae.

Incantations that the girl would feel progressively lighter and lighter with each spoken word, if she dare to speak them--if she dare to risk it.

[Zach Kaiser]

The woman who called herself Xibtrae's words were getting harder to comprehend. The phrasing was more complex, the accent thicker, the words themselves too foreign. But Val thought she got the gist of it.

"A pact...?" Of course, she'd heard of such things; there were all kinds of magical pacts, made to demons, angels, magical beings, monsters, even with the gods themselves.

The next part was especially hard to understand, but she believed she needed to repeat what was said after, in a language clearly different from the one she'd been speaking in until now. That language she was more familiar with...many spells and ancient texts were written in it, though admittedly she was much better at reading it than speaking it.

In any other situation, she would have hesitated, deliberated, thought upon it...the words sounded like a spell, and one of the first rules of being a mage was not to cast something unless you were absolutely sure what it was going to do and how it worked. It was a rule, admittedly, she should have heeded earlier when asked to help cast a spell by a friend.

But what choice did she have? If she did nothing, she would surely die. And there was nothing but nothing to do--she was shaking so hard that she doubted she could stand even if she tried.

Taking several deep breaths to calm herself and quiet her sobs, she focused. "Here goes..." she muttered, but what she was really thinking was, please work.

"Existo licens, bellus animus--"

She could feel the magic taking effect...affecting her.

"--Consummo quas pro caelestis--"

It was as though something in her was being lifted, simply by saying the words.

"Xibtrae."

[Nayt]

The shadows beheld azure, a pristine and perfect hue of light molding to a brilliant blue, an aura of power amassing a greater supply of light than the girl prior could ever muster with even a power not tainted by fatigue. It could blind any human being who looked upon it, the form of pure spirit, untouched by human hands, untainted by spell construction: Qi in its rawest form possible. It presented no damage, though, only a kick of wind and a flutter of nearby debris--and nothing more. No damage would come to the creatures . . . yet.

It was like breathing for the first time--like opening her eyes as an infant, like hearing the wind of chaos as a true innocent being, and feeling it upon her skin as a clean slate. That was how it felt to her, to Xibtrae, to experience the sensation of the real world--the land she never beheld with her own two eyes . . .

But Val was gone. It was the woman who sat in her place, whilst the light that had poured forth, to blind nearly anything that looking up it, faded progressively with each passing second, to be nothing more than a mist within ten. It was long enough for the young mage to realize what had happened, to know what it was like to exist solely within her own mind, to see a glimpse into the mind of the Trapped. It was not of Xibtrae's intent, however, but the only option available to Val to ensure her survival, for the girl hadn't the energy to swing the scythe on her own.

Her skin was such a light gray that in the light of the mist, it seemed like a smooth, soft, and exquisitely warm shade of ivory touched only by the slightest gray. Her auburn hair was cut short and hadn't changed no matter the thousands of years that had passed, or however long it had been, while portions of her bangs, both closest to her ears, were at length of her sternum, separate collections of hair permitted to maintain that length as a decision of style, back when she had the luxury of such worries. Her hair covered her ears, and ornately decorated horns, a part of her very biology, extended back, parallel to her skull, starting from behind her ears and extending further back. She had marks upon her skin, obsidian forms etched into her pristine skin like tattoos, tribal etchings on both sides of her flat, exposed belly, and creeping up both sides of her body and around her modest breasts.

Xibtrae, a woman who any onlooker, be there any intelligent enough to discern it, could conclude to be somewhere in her middle to late twenties, sat huddled upon the floor, her knees pressed up against her naked chest, her body devoid of clothes where she sat. Her eyes struggled to open as her fingers twitched and reached to feel for anything and everything, her mind elsewhere beyond the thoughts of how the dust and dirt looked like such a prominent stain upon her skin . . .

"Se . . . middangeard . . ." she whispered, her accented voice weak and cracked for lack of use.

[Zach Kaiser]

The girl named Valerie disappeared, replaced by the woman named Xibtrae, completely unclothed with one exception--upon her wrist was an ornate, emerald colored bracelet. Only that, and the orb of light that floated just overhead--dimming with its power source removed--told that anyone else had been there at all.

The darkness was...perturbed. It could sense that something changed--something that went beyond simply a change in forms or mass. The mass of red eyes hesitated, the small beads of crimson light swaying back and forth in uncertainty...all save for the pair that was several feet above the rest, which rested on Xibtrae, unwavering.

Another teleport? Where am I now? The young girl's voice would ring in Xibtrae's mind now that their places reversed, confused and relieved. She did not know her new location, but there were no enemies, so it seemed safe.

[Nayt]

How strange it felt to run her fingers over the dirt and feel rocked beneath her fingers. Had she the time, she'd have done this for hours, simply indulge in the sensory experience of being real once again. She hadn't that opportunity, however, which although disappointing, was the entire reason she was outside once again.

That darkness . . . it wasn't a part of this world but it was familiar, she had seen it before--but where? With blurred vision, she stared at it, up at the creature standing over her. These spiritual voids . . . they were hungry, and it wasn't just flesh that they feasted on. No, that was just a byproduct, a flavor of sorts. To them, spiritual energy had no flavor, and raw meat simply added to it. Xibtrae would have been a filling meal, enough to satisfy a cadre of shadows for multiple lifetimes. If they were to devour her, that is. It was not beyond the realm of possibility, for the woman in her state of reawakening senses was at her weakest.

Which was not to say that she was inherently weak. Xibtrae was much better off than the girl that had found her, she just needed to get used to moving first. With her arms braced against the rubble, she tried to stand--shakily. It had been so long since she had a true physical body, she'd almost forgotten how to use it!

But the woman managed. She was five feet and six inches tall, an inch or two above the average height for most women in the world, and thin--not emaciated, but thin. Xibtrae had trouble standing, though; she was hunched over, not used to dealing with gravity. She'd not said anything to Val, concentrating solely on movement again, all the while hoping that she had that luxury of time, and would not be sent straight into a life or death situation right out of the gate--and though very much possible to crash course her way through movement again, not particularly the most comfortable scenario.

[Zach Kaiser]

Val continued to comment and explore her surroundings, unseen to (and ignored by) Xibtrae, and unaware that the woman could even hear her.

The darkness was cautious--while the meal before them was a far greater one than it had once been, it knew that larger meals made for more dangerous prey. So it--he?--held back the hordes.

But the prey appeared to be weak and wounded--likely incapable of defending itself. But caution was still necessary. A single, ant-like, pitch black body hobbled forward, approaching Xibtrae with almost curiosity. If left alone, it would poke and lightly scratch at her leg with its claws.

There was another option open to the newly released woman, albeit one that would also require some mastery of movement. Overhead her head, as Val had noted earlier, there was a hole in the ceiling. Someone of the mage's physical abilities had no hope of reaching it, but it was no longer her in the dangerous situation...

[Nayt]

. . . pain . . . ?

Was this pain?

Physical pain? The act of bleeding, for something scratched her leg whilst poking at it--one of those spiritual voids. Xibtrae winced. It had been just as long since she experienced physical pain, could her body take it? Was she so sensitive to it now that something this small could make her cry in pain. No; Xibtrae only winced at it. The only thing different about her body was that she'd forgotten how to use it; she retained all resistance to pain, the capabilities of running a great distance, and jumping significant heights on her own. She was still strong, she'd just forgotten how to use that strength, having gone so long without tapping into it.

Reflex still existed, though.

Without warning, Xibtrae's leg, the near ivory color of her skin tainted by a dark red from individual slashes across it, lifted with excessive quickness, and plunged toe first down. She'd land her foot on the flat of her big toe and permit her foot to settle down, onto the ball of her foot then her heel. The motion was extremely quick, though, and would kick up a slew of dust into the air, and perhaps even a dark mist, as if her foot struck down within that quick, powerful reflex, the shade that had been cutting at her skin would find itself dead--and the others that looked one would find a reason to be cautious of her . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

The minute shade had hardly any time to contemplate the seemingly lack of defense of its prey before a foot crashed down upon it, smiting it from existence and leaving only a thin black mist behind.

In the darkness, red eyes swayed nervously once more, except for the pair above the rest, which narrowed. Shades were creatures of instinct, not intelligence, but every so often one would somehow acquire the ability to reason. And this one reasoned that their prey was more trouble than it was worth at the moment.

Shades don't communicate in words, but if they did what he conveyed to them would have been patience. The prey would wear itself out eventually, just like the previous one did.

And so gradually the red eyed voids of spirit faded into the darkness until only the humanoid one remained, giving Xibtrae one last look before disappearing into the shadows.

It left her alone for now, but she would be able to detect them on the edge of her senses, keeping out of her way but watching and waiting, for any moment she may let her guard down...

[Nayt]

Xibtrae had forgotten how to use her limbs after so long, but there were some things couldn't be forgotten. Certain motor skills contributed to the "fight or flight" instincts, and she almost always committed to the former, and rarely the latter. It just so happened that she knew how to fight, and her muscle memory kept a perfect record of what she was capable. A reactive attack was easily possible, even though she'd find difficulty in doing it again at the moment, without it being purely reactive.

And she did. As the shadows slipped away, she found herself in a predicament. She couldn't do that again, not with the same speed. Xibtrae did it again, and wound up stumbling forward, nearly falling to the ground. The shades were still near, though, she could feel them--she had to stay up.

So the woman balanced herself, still hunched over just a bit, and she released a sigh. This was going to take a lot more effort than she originally thought--though, that didn't mean she was any less confident in her ability to defend herself. Xibtrae reacted well, and she knew that much.

"þu eart sætung," she whispered, "On fruman."

You are trapped, for now.

Again, she tried to step forward, this time with better results. Due to her last stumble, she lacked the opportunity to hold onto something. Though this wasn't as bad of a crash course in basic movement as she had feared, it was still a bit disturbing. Xibtrae would just have to get through it for now . . .

All the while, now that the shadows--although still near--had retreated just a bit, Xibtrae spoke to Val. Her whispers would be heard within the world Val saw, whatever that world may be. It could very well be the opposite of what the normal Utopia looked like--it all simply depended on her, and the mind and spirit that remained in tact.

"In ever gesundfull eardungstow."

In a safe and harmless haven.

[Zach Kaiser]

While Xibtrae was dealing with her shade problem, Val had been taking in her surroundings. At first her vision was blurry, the world around her vaguely defined; as time passed, though, features came into focus, and she found herself in a room.

The room itself was fairly large...she couldn't actually guess the dimensions of it, because trying to focus on its borders made her dizzy, and she could swear that every time she looked something changed a little. Or perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

She didn't dwell on it too much, because there were a few features that caught her eye--mainly a large bed, ornate, soft looking bed stacked with fluffy pillows on one end, and in another part of the room a large, glossy white bathtub, and in yet another, a table piled with the most delicious looking food she'd ever seen. When she could pay attention without making her head spin, it seemed almost like a room made for a princess straight out of a fairy tail. It was only the knowledge that this wasn't her room that kept her from running to one of the features she'd spotted, and the lingering doubt that this strange new place was completely safe.

It was around this time that Xibtrae's voice entered her head again, she once more got the disconcerting feeling of hearing a language that she knew she didn't know, but at the same time being able to understand it.

Huh? Trapped?! Though Val was speaking aloud in her world, Xibtrae would hear her the same way Val heard her: directly from her mind.

Val looked around, forcing herself to ignore the mind-numbingly dynamic dimensions of the room, and take account of what was there. All kinds of things, just about everything she'd ever need, excepting that the room did not contain a single door or window.

That made her nervous, but Xibtrae had assured her it was temporary, and that it was safe. If it had been a male voice she was hearing in her head, a male that somehow whisked her away to a pretty looking room, she would have been very suspect of his motives. (Unless he showed himself, and was young and dashing and handsome, in which case she'd probably swoon a bit.)

But Xibtrae, judging by her voice, was decidedly female, and while that eliminated the possibility of a charming prince saving her, it did prompt far more trust in her.

W-Well...thank you for saving me, she replied, though she still a bit nervous. Where is this, though? This place is weird. And how long am I going to be trapped here? It would be difficult to say how much of her "speaking" was actually aloud and how much were her thoughts, which weren't necessarily completely private anymore.