Chapter 23 - In Pursuit of Faith
"I never thought that you, of all people, would stick your hands into this sort of thing." Alleria bristled, "And for it to be blood magic of all things-"
"It was a hunch, I wasn't even sure it was going to work."
"So you just didn't think about what might happen if you were right?"
"You try and figure out what was meant to happen based on pictures, it isn't easy."
"All the more reason for you not to do it. And for what, some better ambience?" She stuck her finger in the air, pointing at the crystals overhead, which, while almost back to their original colour, had taken on a slightly red hue. "Very romantic, Danadrian, now all we need are some candles and wine."
"I did it so I could understand." He gestured to the statue behind them, which even now he hadn't taken his eyes off of. "They didn't just use blood magic for trapping their artefacts; it was intrinsically involved in how their people were born. He- he was a balancing force between the three Absolute Powers. And I don't think I need to tell you who the 'he' I am referring to is."
Her gaze slipped off him and locked onto the statue again. With its half-serpent, half-man form and enough minute details and transformations that made it hard to focus, it was unlike anything either of them had seen before. But he knew, and he bet she did too.
"What does the Athniuthian call him?"
She leaned down to read the tablet. Her frown was deepening. "Boraks, the Grand Blood-Shaper."
"Melgos. And as a God of Blood rather than Evil, it makes sense. He's the slice of the pie none of the others could take without upsetting the entire system."
She was looking at him with an expression that said she thought he was finally losing it, but eventually she nodded. "Right, I'll leave most of the theological discussions for you to talk over with yourself, but if you're saying that the snakes worshipped these four gods, then yes, that I can buy."
Having said that, she took one look at the statue of Boraks before spitting on it.
Opinions or not, he felt a shock run through his body. "Now why would you- I mean, I assumed, given our arguments, that you-"
"That I what? Actually gave a lick about this guy?" She jabbed her head at the statue without looking back, "Let me make it abundantly clear for you, Lightbringer, I argued the ethics and morality of Evil Magic and blood magic from a philosophical point of view. That's all. Regarding that one, he isn't worth the stool under my boots."
"He is the God of Evil, most sinful and vile of all the Gods, I just assumed…"
She put her hands on her hips. "Assumed what, that because Slathir and he are buddy-buddy, that I'd welcome him with open arms?"
"…Maybe?"
The darkening look in her eyes made him regret that comment, as well as swallow down others that he'd been preparing to say. After a moment's silence, she sighed and cast another disdainful look at Boraks.
"For an Angelica, and one so invested in matters of theology and history, you really don't understand how people work that well, do you, Danadrian?"
That comment threw him off a bit, but he slowly inclined his head. "I will… take that as constructive criticism."
"It's not an insult, nor is it criticism. It's just a fact. You argue ethics well, even with your skewed view, and even with no knowledge of the world beyond your religion, you were able to deduce so much from so little here. But if you'd read more books, or better yet, spoken to more people, you'd understand how limited your view really is."
He blinked. "I- yes, I believe that's accurate. And I assume you know more."
She stared at him. "Far more. Even if you set aside what you learn from simply growing up and living… you know that I read books."
"Yes."
"Well, I read a lot of them. A lot. It's a pastime. But from reading them, I can tell you with confidence that, while certain things make sense in isolation, and when you draw the broad strokes of them, it all might add up perfectly, in practice, you will find that there is a factor so few consider that throws everything into chaos. What do you think it is?"
It was as if I blinked and suddenly found myself in a schoolroom lecture.
It wasn't something he'd expected from the Demon. After thinking hard and running his hand through his hair, he snapped his fingers.
"People."
"That's right. People. Statistics might tell you that a majority of Carathiliar prefer spicy foods and elaborate banquets, but that doesn't change the fact that when you go speak to one on the side of the road, they may prefer a simple cabbage soup. Stories and bardic tales may claim knights to be paragons of chivalry, valour, and might, but none of that matters when you encounter one of the Western Crusades, who would cut you down for so much as smiling in their direction." She gave him a long look. "And even if a religion or faith tells you that those who worship a fell god are heathenish and barbaric, chances are you probably won't notice that the god of the baker you bought from and your god are locked in centuries of strife."
That hit a bit closer than he would've wished. He breathed in slowly. "So educate me, if you will. What do they say about Melgos in Demagain? Judging from your reaction, I assume he is less than loved."
"He's less than anything," she snorted. "Most views on the gods tend towards a neutral understanding. They are gods in Andwelm and hold no sway over Demagain. Which is why it says a lot that Melgos may be the most widely detested god amongst my people."
"Amongst the worshippers of Slathir?"
She shook her head. "Not just them, though they are the most numerous. There are at least three major religions amongst Demons, and it's generally impossible to get them to agree on anything, with one exception. That exception is Melgos, whom we know also as Erivithas. He, almost all despise."
"Why? I mean, that sounds quite reasonable-"
"Because of what he and his followers do."
"He has followers there?" That didn't surprise him, really. You could find devotees of a vile God anywhere, like a snake's nest in the jungle or rats beneath floorboards. They were always there.
…Now, where did that analogy come from?
"His followers amongst Demons are twisted, hateful creatures, such that when the Talradians slay them I feel not an ounce of empathy." Her smile was cold. "Rather, I appreciate them for their services."
He couldn't really find it in him to refute her. Her face was often so emotive, even when she thought he wasn't looking. And even when she hid so much of it from the world, he thought he'd only seen her face look like that once before. It was a cold look, filled with disdain as she glared at the statue one last time, horns blazing. Then she turned and walked back to their 'camp,' not once looking back.
Is that… what I look like?
"We need to get moving soon. And quickly."
She looked up as he followed her, stooping down to check his backpack. "Why quickly?"
"Because those crystals sent a burst of mana out of every hole they could find. Which means if, and that's an if, we are being tracked by the Demon Hunters as you suggested, they will know where to go. Released mana leaves traces to follow."
That got her moving quicker, and she helped him scoop dirt off the floor to put out the embers of their fire. She must have noticed how his gaze trailed to the statues, even when he wasn't doing so on purpose, because after a minute she spoke again.
"And is that the only reason you want to leave?"
He jerked and met her eyes. "You said your piece, so let me say mine. I sought the answers to this place out of curiosity, nothing more. And yet, if anything, what I found here left me all the more unsettled." He shook his head, "You are not a woman of faith, Alleria, so you may not feel it the way I do. But I imagine this is what it feels like for a Carathiliarian or Talradian to walk across the tiles of a Church. I am unwelcome here."
He gripped the shoulder of his cloak tightly, where his brooch was pinned. Maybe he thought it might bring him some warmth, or security, against the encroaching darkness. And against that which he would swear before all the Gods lurked within it.
. . .
They left not long after, heading out one of the side passages with as quick a pace as he could muster. Which, for once, was quite quick, with Alleria's legs almost healed fully, and her body rested from hours of sleep. That, combined with their longer-than-usual encampment in that hall, meant they made great progress, climbing another set of stairs that had him convinced they were getting closer to the surface. They had to be.
Unless they were underneath a mountain. Somehow. Wait, no, there weren't any mountains this close, and the Enur Venadin were weeks away anyhow. There was no chance they'd made it that far. But this was a hilly region.
A nagging whisper doubted they'd find a way out. How would an entrance to a complex as vast and ancient as this go unnoticed?
There are ruins across the Domain, many of them could be hiding entrances or openings that no one even knew to look for.
Was that logical reasoning, or just wishful thinking? The longer this went on, the farther they walked, and the more those two were becoming the same.
He raised his sword to shield his eyes as a bright burst of Light evaporated in front of them. The traps had continued, which he wasn't sure was a good thing or not. But thankfully, he hadn't yet felt any more Abyssal Magic, and the Void Magic spells he assumed were there… well, they were inconsequential as long as they stuck close to one another and inspected the areas where they stopped for breaks.
He'd had these thoughts before, but the fact that they'd trapped this place at all was strange. Alleria had spoken at length about dungeons and labyrinths and whatnot, but if he was to put his own spin on her theories, then he'd say-
"What if it used to be a pilgrimage site?"
"Sorry?"
He spread his arms out. "This entire place, what if it were used as a pilgrimage site. You mentioned before that these traps likely weren't set up to kill everyone. So they are either a security system or a test." He lifted his blade. "What if possessing a blade like this was part of the test?"
She frowned and closed her eyes briefly, thinking. "I can see it. But what about these tunnels? You think traversing these was part of some sort of religious journey for them, and for what? Just kneel in front of some statues?"
"It is as you said, there is much that people will do that defies logic or reason. Faith, I think, is the most powerful driving force behind cultures."
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Another spear of Light flew through the darkness and shattered against the invisible barrier in front of them. In a twisted sense, the lack of any glowing slime down the tunnel they'd taken meant these spells were even less effective. With the price being that they were back to trudging through complete darkness.
The darkness sent chills down his spine, such that when magic spells sent to kill them appeared, he was almost happy for the brief burst of light they brought, fighting back the encroaching shadow if only for a moment.
"I still think it's strange for a dungeon of all things to have such religious significance for them. Why couldn't they build something like this above ground? Surely it would be easier than carving out entire pathways and halls beneath the earth and then constructing a labyrinth within it."
He nodded. "I agree it is a strange way of going about it, but frankly, we know nothing about their culture, save for their Gods and what, presumably, their people looked like. So I believe they had some reason for building under here."
He gestured to their left, where, as they turned, a gaping hole in the wall was revealed. It wasn't the first they'd seen, but it certainly might have been the largest. A cylindrical tunnel leading deeper into the earth, completely impractical for a bipedal species. But for snakes…
"You're ignoring another possibility, Danadrian."
"And that is?"
"That this place wasn't originally built underground at all. It might have been a holy site for these snake-people, yes, but aboveground instead."
He turned and ran his eyes over her, making sure she hadn't somehow concussed herself without noticing. "Are you… but that is impossible. How exactly do you think something like this-"
He swung his arms around, carefully keeping his sword facing down.
"-just sort of sinks beneath the ground? Climate change?"
"It's ancient, older than the First Age for sure. Can you say for certain that it couldn't have happened over the course of hundreds and thousands of years?"
"Even if that happened, which the likelihood is it didn't, the Carathiliar would have some records of it, or stories, or at least myths. You don't just forget a structure like this, just like you don't just forget a civilisation made of giant snakes."
"I've read the Human histories, or at least a lot of it. You would be surprised how vaguely they remember even the First Age. All of it is the stuff of myths and pseudo-histories so vague they couldn't have possibly happened. And if this place is older than that, well, much was lost when the Ages began."
He breathed out. "I still don't see you giving me any real way that this place could have sunk or been buried beneath the earth itself. There's never been any geographical upheaval that big; the consequences of it would have changed the entire geography of the region."
"And how would you know? You can't even…" she trailed off and likewise came to a stop. As their argument had grown, so too had their pace, but now she ground to a halt. He turned back to look at her.
"Alleria?"
Her eyes were darting around with that look that said she'd come to some sort of realisation, the sort of realisation that worried her, and he said as much, waiting for a response.
Instead, she slowly looked back up at him, eyes widening somewhat. "Danadrian, you do know about the Collapse, right?"
He frowned, then opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about.
Fire broke against their back, dissipating as its mana was reflected back. They both flinched and turned as another bolt flew to the same effect.
There aren't any spells like that here.
"Alleria-"
He heard footsteps, voices, the first real noise they'd heard that wasn't coming from them. And now he wished he could continue going on in silence.
He turned to her, but she'd already grabbed his arm.
"Run!"
They darted down the passage as the voices grew louder, and a third spell burst behind them. He could see figures giving chase now, their forms barely visible amongst the darkness. He wasn't sure how much longer they'd keep firing off spells that before they realised it wasn't-
A bolt fired from a crossbow narrowly missed his shoulder. Right, they figured it out.
They hit a fork in the road and paused. He saw that Alleria was poised to dash right while he'd begun turning left. It took him a second to feel what she'd been schooling him in for days now; fresher air was coming from the right. He redirected himself to follow her, but those seconds they'd lost making the silent decision were precious.
"Demon scum!"
A figure flew past him unnaturally fast without so much as glancing at him. He turned slowly, too slowly to stop her, forced to watch as a sword pierced its way towards Alleria, ready to skewer her where she stood.
A blade drew in a flash and deflected it. The figure's momentum halted, and he saw through the shadow a familiar face.
Her colourless eyes were fixed on the Demon before her as her face, white as snow, snarled. "I see you have finally stopped running, Demon."
Alleria raised her sword, the glow of both horns and blade illuminating her face, which was fixed in a glare at the Talradian. "I see you've caught up."
Her horns flared in fire, and their swords met in near-identical thrusts that bounced against one another.
Danadrian spun around as the shouts from behind them reached their apex, and the Demon Hunters appeared, bearing sword and magic at him.
The latter vanished the moment they reached him. Several lights flickered and disappeared entirely, and their mages hesitated, caught between getting to their leader and the sword that barred their passage.
He crossed blades with the first to reach him, blocking his attack and knocking him back. Before he did more, though, he was knocking aside another blow from beside him. Then another.
Thus began his fight, knocking and blocking sword thrusts and ducking to the side when he heard the telltale snap of crossbows. He didn't know how many there were, only that their strength in numbers was being hampered by the narrow passage. Which didn't mean much considering there was still only one of him.
He slammed his hilt into the chest of a Talradian, who staggered and fell back. He ducked back again, making another swing wide of him, and he slashed his sword across.
"Theivan!"
A thin line appeared through the cloth across his neck. He staggered back, coughing. Then the cloth began to stain red, and he fell, blood dripping from his mouth. A red pool formed around him, and he stopped moving.
Danadrian… backed away. He stared at the body of the Demon Hunter, then at the edge of his sword. Blood dripped down the edge of the blade, the sharp blade now, and he felt his stomach churn.
No longer a weapon to hold back. A blade that kills.
Another blast of fire disappeared above him, and the Demon Hunters were continuing to advance, their colourless eyes, if they could, would have been crimson with anger. Danadrian was forced back more and more. The best he could do was keep himself unharmed, and they kept coming like a tidal wave. How many were there, a dozen? It was enough.
The tunnel shook. Dirt and dust fell from the roof, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the residual aftereffects of mana disappear around the radius of his sword. And the shaking didn't stop.
Alleria-
. . .
Keleiva was driving a wedge between her and Danadrian.
The Talradian hadn't yet scored a hit. but the same could be said for her, and with each attack, she was forced back, farther and farther. It was only when their speed had outpaced Danadrian that she understood why. The ground beneath her shook as the Talradian's eyes gleamed.
Their swords met again, and this time the force of the earth was behind hers. Alleria the swordswoman clashed with Keleiva, each blow a mirror of the other, both wielding their weapons in one hand. But hers lacked the same power and force. She backed against a wall and ducked as her enemy's blade bounced against it, sending her reeling.
One cut. One single cut is all we need, and she shall as they all do.
She shook her head. That she had drawn and fought with this damned blade was the only reason she was alive. She had Danadrian to thank for that. But how long her hold would last was another question entirely.
The ringing of battle filled her ears, and she spotted him, backing away as she was, having just cut down on the Demon Hunters. He was outnumbered, and yet she felt he still had more of an advantage than she.
The swordswoman wavered, her hold on it slipping. She tried to focus again, gripping the handle harder. Gods damn it all, she was out of practice. That was the last thing a Demon of House Elevar wanted.
Keleiva struck again with a slash that could either take her head or her hand. She parried, knocking it aside with grace, opening her up perfectly for the thrust both knew was coming.
Instead, she found herself gripping the thinner blade with both hands, swinging it down in a downward slash that lacked all grace or training.
The Talradian's eyes widened as she threw herself back, the stone shaking and shifting with her. Alleria pulled her blade back up and cut upwards with as much force as she could muster behind the blow. She blocked it, and one glance at beneath her told her how. The earth itself had swallowed her feet, holding her in place.
"That isn't one of mine," she growled.
She slashed downwards again, faster, and she blocked it, but shifted backwards. Before she could even open her mouth to retort, she redirected her blade to the side, catching it in a horizontal slash. She pulled it back and slammed into her with her shoulder, knocking both of them off balance.
She cut across from the other side and watched as rock amassed there, forming a layer across half of Keleiva's body. Her blade should have caught on it, but instead it bounced, and the rock shattered into pieces.
The Talradian's snarl grew wider and wider. But as she stepped back again, the shaking earth stopped. Her eyes widened, and Alleria resisted a smile. Because even though she couldn't see it, she knew exactly what had happened.
Her mana had vanished.
Danadrian spun past them both, pursued by her supporting Demon Hunters, many of whom were now sporting cuts or bruises despite their armour. The mages that she could see had looks of abject horror across their faces.
"You alright?"
He grimaced; he'd taken a light cut across one of his arms. "I had to block one with my cloak. You?"
She levelled the sword. "It could be worse, but it could be a lot better. Any idea how we're supposed to get out of this mess?"
Keleiva was steadying herself, and her eyes were wrathful.
"Keep running until they get tired?"
"That's an awful plan. Kill them all?"
He squirmed. "Only if we have no other option. And I really do not see how we could do that in the first place."
"You are a disgrace, siding with her kind." The Talradian spat on the stone beneath them. "You know, I never did like the way you prats talked down to us, but at least they had better sense to not ally themselves with demonic wenches."
Danadrian took a deep breath. "Keleiva. I know we're both dead in your eyes, but you should really learn when to quit while you're ahead. Why follow us?"
"That's PRINCESS Keleiva to you, you light-blinded fool. You should at least show some respect to your killer before you meet your end."
He cast a look at her, just as confused as the one she wore. Princess? She assumed the entire royal family had been killed during the Destruction, or if they had survived, had met their end afterwards, either at the hands of Demons or at the onset of old age.
"Meeting my end wasn't on my list of things to do today, Danadrian? How about you?"
"Definitely not."
The Talradian's snarl became a grin bordering on mania. Oh, oh dear. She'd seen that look on Demon Hunters before, Talradian and Carathiliarian alike. It was the look of someone who was slipping into obsession, who could see nothing else but death in front of them, and wanted it more than anything else. Nothing Andwelm could offer would sate that hunger, that gluttony.
"Let the earth be your resting place then, by the hand of Creation, let it be done."
She raised her hand, and the entire hallway began to shake and convulse. Danadrian flinched, "She'll bring the entire damn tunnel down on us." He lunged forward, sword streaking outward towards her, towards something only she couldn't see.
Before he could even get there, though, she paused, and her head snapped around like a deranged doll.
In a cold voice, she muttered, "What?"
One of her mages, stationed behind the rest of them, had been staring as the situation escalated. He kept staring now, as colour left his face.
Then he collapsed, wisps of mist curling away from his body, which had barely a scratch on it. The woman beside him turned.
"Huh, what are you messing around for-"
She cut off and went still. Like the first, her face lost all colour, some sort of mist trailed off her body, and then she collapsed on the stone.
Dead.
The Demon Hunters spun around, shouting words of warning.
The shadows shifted.
A figure burst out of the darkness, cloaked, with sabre in hand. The nearest Demon Hunter pulled their sword up and fell, as a single cut from the blade pierced their arm. All it took was one look at the sabre, dimly glowing blue, to make them all back up, then retreat, as two more were cut down in seconds.
Alleria's vision clouded, the noises and shouts around her becoming background buzz, unfocused. She looked down at her own sword and gazed at her shaking hands.
Ah, so this was what it felt like.
Someone was shaking her arm. Danadrian grabbed it and began pulling her.
"I think now is the perfect time for that plan of ours. Come on."
Keleiva had completely forgotten them, now staring with a mix of horror, rage, and fear at the figure before her. The last thing she saw was the Demon Hunters splitting apart as the figure cleanly ripped its way through them. Then they turned a corner, and Danadrian was pulling her farther and farther into the darkness.
. . .
They came to a halt. Danadrian, panting for breath, put a hand on the wall for support. The adrenaline was subsiding, leaving him bereft of energy. Once he'd caught his breath, his eyes began adjusting to the dark room they were in. He raised his hand to instinctively call the Light, but one look at the sword in his hands reminded him that it wasn't about to happen any time soon.
"Alleria, you alright?"
He could see the dark outline of her figure learning against the wall, head in her hands. She didn't respond.
"Alleria?"
'Ah- yes, I mean. Yeah, I'm fine."
Her voice sounded ragged and shaky.
"What on Andwelm was that?" He half-muttered to himself. "A person? Another person?"
Her head turned to look at him. A voice spoke.
"Turn around. Slowly."
He froze, sword already half-risen. He began to slowly edge around. Alleria's face, illuminated dimly by her green horns, had gone pale.
He turned and saw the cloaked figure, his sabre raised till it was just below his chin.
"You are no Demon Hunter."
"You talk when I say you can, Lightbringer." The figure practically growled at him. "I will cut you down where you stand if you so much as mention me in the same sentence as them."
"Who are you?"
"Did I stutter?"
He raised the blade higher. Then his focus shifted. "Alleria of House Elevar." The figure turned his head to her, as one hand reached for his hood. "You are commanded to return to Demagain by the High Court, to answer for your crimes against Demonkind."
The hood fell, and a new colour banished away the darkness. Spiked, red horns of ethereal flame rose from short, black hair and a face permanently held in a snarl. His amber eyes pierced them both with a look that screamed death as much as the Talradian's had.
Danadrian swallowed his pride and asked again.
"Who are you?"
But it was his companion who answered.
"His name is Gellron of House Wrathius. Son of Cadmus and Anaderia. My- my brother."