The sensation of pushing into the wall was odd, not unlike entering a column of seawater. Roen felt her nose filling with the scent of iron and her mouth with the taste of salt. It burned, but just as quickly as they came, they vanished.
She instinctively tightened her grip upon Khadai’s hand, only to feel it evaporate within her grasp; just as he predicted, they were separated in this foreign place. She did not even see him vanish. The paladin had not even blinked, but he was simply no longer present.
The torch sputtered in the darkness as if the very flame itself was frightened, struggling. The walls stretched and groaned all around, coiling like intestines.
“Khadai!†Roen whispered into her linkpearl. No answer came. Composing herself with a steady breath in, she unsheathed her sword and held out the torch in front of her. The shadows only dodged and spun away from the light’s reach, as if it was a pitiful thing.
The tunnel continued. The colors of the wall began to shift like nacre, the blackness giving way to colors that can be seen by the mind but not by the eye. The color of regret. The color of forgetfulness. The color of longing. The strange iridescence forced her to avert her eyes, to focus on the void that opened like a maw straight ahead. Her peripheral vision fled.
Roen did not know for how long she had continued on her path before the cave shattered open with a bestial roar. The paladin threw up a hand in front of her eyes as the darkness gave way to blinding light. It was all colors and none that flooded her vision, and when the glare faded, a bridge hewn from diamonds stretched out in front of her. Below was a seemingly endless chasm from whence gusts of wind seemed to scream forth; to each sides of the bridge were impossibly high spires of ice and snow, jutting upwards toward the sky. The shadows of the cavern fled back to their crevices behind her and the torch finally sputtered, the fire dying as if in submission.
Roen studied the veil of clouds above. She could not see a sun or any discernible source of light. Just what is this place?
The bridge was the only way forward. The paladin steeled herself, her eyes squinting as she looked across the vast structure. There was but one way to go; but once she stepped on it, she knew she would be exposed, like an insect in the desert. A strong draft from below whipped her cloak around her and the paladin paused in hesitation. She took one careful step, and the bridge cracked with brittle brilliance beneath her armored feet.
All shall be well if you believe it to be so, Khadai’s last words echoed in her mind. She exhaled and took another step.
Visions of the world--the real world--came to her in flashes. It raced by her too fast, as though her mind were flipping through the pages of a book, without fully comprehending what she was being shown. Roen shaded her eyes with a hand, but she continued to advance. The diamonds beneath her feet groaned and its edges crumbled away but the frame held fast. As she crossed, the bridge continued to lengthen, leading her to another tall spire of ice. The clouds parted around it, revealing a celestial haze that seemed to weave itself around the unworldly architecture. Stars shined above this tower, and it seemed to reach the heavens themselves. The light here also seemed different. The ice-crystal walls were invisible behind a luminous fog and the air was warmer.
As the paladin approached the entrance, she noticed that her shadow paced behind her, stalking the boundaries of the fog. When she crossed the threshold of the carved doorway, her shadow did not enter. Roen narrowed her eyes as she saw it remaining behind, as if it was not precisely her own.
A thousand rich and blinding colors filtered through the ice within the tower, like drinking a kaleidoscope. The hues shifted with every step she took into the circular center of the tower, the walls revealing shining corridors that branched out in all directions. In each and every corridor, the paladin saw her own image staring back at her.
KNOW YOURSELF, a voice intoned through the vaulted space.
Roen spun about, but saw no one else. “Who are you?†she called out. There was no answer. Her own voice echoed through the tower, a strange cacophony made up of her own voice coming from each of the halls.
“It will reveal itself to you,†Khadai had said. “It will--or should--know what you are seeking. What you want. Even if you yourself do not know what that is.â€
Roen studied each passageway. What I want. What do I want? Each burned with a different glow, crimson red, sapphire blue, emerald green, and white pearly iridescence. She felt drawn to the one that shimmered with a blue hue as rich as the sky. She was always drawn to that color, it was her mother’s favorite.
But when she stepped in, she found that every facet of the icy wall was hard and with seeming limitless depth. As she continued into the chamber, azure wisps plucked at her senses. A voice reverberated again, THIS WAS THEIR SKY. The room opened, and an icy field spread itself before her. Up above, there was nothing in the terrifying emptiness but a hollow circle, a fierce old thing. The sky looked like glass, and the circle was pressed against it.
It reminded her of another crimson moon in the sky that she had glimpsed years ago. But that was when death rained from above. “Who’s sky is this?†the paladin called out again into the emptiness. She was again answered with silence.
The brittle blue barrier shuddered, as if it would shatter with the lightest of pressure. The empty moon suddenly flared red and hungry. The blue of the sky suddenly erupted with several dozen savage spears that rained down and pierced through the ice beneath her feet. Distant screams began to fill her ears and her head spun. She felt her stomach twist; somehow she could feel the fear of those who fell all around her.
Vertigo sent her senses spinning. All around, the field of ice shivered like a bubble. Was this even real? Why did all the terror that she felt that day when the blue sky was covered in smoke before bleeding red with ravenous appetite, why did all those memories return to her now? The sky was now black, as black as the void, and the red moon still burned. It trembled, and its surface cracked open. In between the fissures appeared a reptilian eye, and it glared at her, eager and greedy. The eye blinked, and the sky was devoured under a cascade of flame.
Roen fell to her knees, only to find herself back in the nexus of corridors, no longer in the chamber wrought with destruction. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and her vision was veiled with a pale blue tint. The memory of the eye throbbed in her head.
That salty taste returned in the back of her throat. The paladin shakily rose back to her feet, as multitude of her reflections continued to stare back at her from the other corridors. She let out a stuttered breath and steeled herself, this time stepping into the emerald vista.
The green permeated this chamber; it carried the scent of forests and of poison. Green was the color of life, even if it was wild or dangerous. Roen sighed with relief. After the last vision, she needed to see something else; that even after all that destruction, there was still life.
SOMETHING SOUGHT, the voice rang in the distance. SOMETHING LOST.
Roen found herself standing on the edge of a cliff, much like the one preceding the diamond bridge. Before her was nothing but a void of green lights. Rich and deep color of infinite depths and tints. It baffled and delighted her senses. A chilly wind brushed her cheek and she could smell the scent of pine. It reminded her of the forests that surrounded her childhood home. A part of her knew she could wander in this place forever like she used to. The mist was inviting, like a halo of northern lights.
A lone tree came into view, floating in the air; its branches were weeping and pulsing, stretching towards the infinite. The paladin squinted as she spotted something embedded in the trunk of the tree. Some kind of bladed, pointed instrument, carved of jade. From a hollow opening of the tree leaked blood. She did not know how she knew it was blood--it was the same soft shade of green as everything else--only that it was there. And yet, she could not leave it be, it was clearly wounding the tree.
The jade edge was sharper than it looked; even carefully grasping it by the flat of the blade, it cut a gash across her palms. Strangely enough she did not bleed and felt no pain, but the gash was a sickly green. The jagged edges of the instrument shimmered with light. Despite her wound, she pulled it from the bark with ease.
It felt light, familiar, but also... demanding. The tree was where it belonged. It had a purpose, a place. It was misused, and so was the tree damaged. The wound on the tree began to close, and as it did, the jade in her hand began to evaporate into dust. Suddenly, Roen felt a wave of disappointment and despair. Was it coming from the jade? Light reflected off of every speck of dust. The paladin blinked, her sight was dazzled, her perceptions confounded. As the last of the jade turned to dust, the tree began to wither.
Roen stepped back away from the dying tree, and found herself back in the nexus of corridors. From the vista that grew suddenly distant, she could hear mournful howls.
This is a test of some sort. Or… some kind of a puzzle. The paladin frowned and turned to the remaining corridors. She had entered this place willingly, she would see this through.
She stepped through the amethyst gallery, where the corridor was deep violet. The hue was like that of a glowing coral and the shadows drifted through the air like fish.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, her perspective confounded her. This place stretched away in every direction through a dusty purple haze, and it was as if she was floating in a cloud. The air was chill and crackling. Vast and shadowy shapes hung lifeless in the cloud, the fluid staining their silhouettes.
Once again, the voice returned, lifeless as leaden type. THERE WERE CASUALTIES.
Her sight suddenly pulled back. The violet haze coalesced together and condensed, smaller and smaller, tighter and tighter. It pulled together and began to crystalize. Roen tilted her head, and a jingle rang out. She canted her head the other way, and the jingle rang again. She blinked as she realized that the violet haze had solidified into a gem, and it chimed softly whenever she looked at it from a different angle. Beneath her feet, the floor had become a mirror, reflecting the purple night sky above, cresting over dry savannah and pillars of sand. The gem, an amethyst, floated gently above.
On the floor below her, were silhouettes, vaguely humanoid shaped. They reflected what was not there. In the corner of her eye, she thought she spied one of them moving--or did it?
Roen found herself reaching for the gem without thought. The amethyst and its teasing chime, it tugged at her memory. But when she closed her fist around the jewel, she felt the shape change. When she opened her palm, within her hand lay a familiar-looking memento, an earring set with an amethyst.
“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?†a voice called out from behind her.
She instinctively tightened her grip upon Khadai’s hand, only to feel it evaporate within her grasp; just as he predicted, they were separated in this foreign place. She did not even see him vanish. The paladin had not even blinked, but he was simply no longer present.
The torch sputtered in the darkness as if the very flame itself was frightened, struggling. The walls stretched and groaned all around, coiling like intestines.
“Khadai!†Roen whispered into her linkpearl. No answer came. Composing herself with a steady breath in, she unsheathed her sword and held out the torch in front of her. The shadows only dodged and spun away from the light’s reach, as if it was a pitiful thing.
The tunnel continued. The colors of the wall began to shift like nacre, the blackness giving way to colors that can be seen by the mind but not by the eye. The color of regret. The color of forgetfulness. The color of longing. The strange iridescence forced her to avert her eyes, to focus on the void that opened like a maw straight ahead. Her peripheral vision fled.
Roen did not know for how long she had continued on her path before the cave shattered open with a bestial roar. The paladin threw up a hand in front of her eyes as the darkness gave way to blinding light. It was all colors and none that flooded her vision, and when the glare faded, a bridge hewn from diamonds stretched out in front of her. Below was a seemingly endless chasm from whence gusts of wind seemed to scream forth; to each sides of the bridge were impossibly high spires of ice and snow, jutting upwards toward the sky. The shadows of the cavern fled back to their crevices behind her and the torch finally sputtered, the fire dying as if in submission.
Roen studied the veil of clouds above. She could not see a sun or any discernible source of light. Just what is this place?
The bridge was the only way forward. The paladin steeled herself, her eyes squinting as she looked across the vast structure. There was but one way to go; but once she stepped on it, she knew she would be exposed, like an insect in the desert. A strong draft from below whipped her cloak around her and the paladin paused in hesitation. She took one careful step, and the bridge cracked with brittle brilliance beneath her armored feet.
All shall be well if you believe it to be so, Khadai’s last words echoed in her mind. She exhaled and took another step.
Visions of the world--the real world--came to her in flashes. It raced by her too fast, as though her mind were flipping through the pages of a book, without fully comprehending what she was being shown. Roen shaded her eyes with a hand, but she continued to advance. The diamonds beneath her feet groaned and its edges crumbled away but the frame held fast. As she crossed, the bridge continued to lengthen, leading her to another tall spire of ice. The clouds parted around it, revealing a celestial haze that seemed to weave itself around the unworldly architecture. Stars shined above this tower, and it seemed to reach the heavens themselves. The light here also seemed different. The ice-crystal walls were invisible behind a luminous fog and the air was warmer.
As the paladin approached the entrance, she noticed that her shadow paced behind her, stalking the boundaries of the fog. When she crossed the threshold of the carved doorway, her shadow did not enter. Roen narrowed her eyes as she saw it remaining behind, as if it was not precisely her own.
A thousand rich and blinding colors filtered through the ice within the tower, like drinking a kaleidoscope. The hues shifted with every step she took into the circular center of the tower, the walls revealing shining corridors that branched out in all directions. In each and every corridor, the paladin saw her own image staring back at her.
KNOW YOURSELF, a voice intoned through the vaulted space.
Roen spun about, but saw no one else. “Who are you?†she called out. There was no answer. Her own voice echoed through the tower, a strange cacophony made up of her own voice coming from each of the halls.
“It will reveal itself to you,†Khadai had said. “It will--or should--know what you are seeking. What you want. Even if you yourself do not know what that is.â€
Roen studied each passageway. What I want. What do I want? Each burned with a different glow, crimson red, sapphire blue, emerald green, and white pearly iridescence. She felt drawn to the one that shimmered with a blue hue as rich as the sky. She was always drawn to that color, it was her mother’s favorite.
But when she stepped in, she found that every facet of the icy wall was hard and with seeming limitless depth. As she continued into the chamber, azure wisps plucked at her senses. A voice reverberated again, THIS WAS THEIR SKY. The room opened, and an icy field spread itself before her. Up above, there was nothing in the terrifying emptiness but a hollow circle, a fierce old thing. The sky looked like glass, and the circle was pressed against it.
It reminded her of another crimson moon in the sky that she had glimpsed years ago. But that was when death rained from above. “Who’s sky is this?†the paladin called out again into the emptiness. She was again answered with silence.
The brittle blue barrier shuddered, as if it would shatter with the lightest of pressure. The empty moon suddenly flared red and hungry. The blue of the sky suddenly erupted with several dozen savage spears that rained down and pierced through the ice beneath her feet. Distant screams began to fill her ears and her head spun. She felt her stomach twist; somehow she could feel the fear of those who fell all around her.
Vertigo sent her senses spinning. All around, the field of ice shivered like a bubble. Was this even real? Why did all the terror that she felt that day when the blue sky was covered in smoke before bleeding red with ravenous appetite, why did all those memories return to her now? The sky was now black, as black as the void, and the red moon still burned. It trembled, and its surface cracked open. In between the fissures appeared a reptilian eye, and it glared at her, eager and greedy. The eye blinked, and the sky was devoured under a cascade of flame.
Roen fell to her knees, only to find herself back in the nexus of corridors, no longer in the chamber wrought with destruction. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and her vision was veiled with a pale blue tint. The memory of the eye throbbed in her head.
That salty taste returned in the back of her throat. The paladin shakily rose back to her feet, as multitude of her reflections continued to stare back at her from the other corridors. She let out a stuttered breath and steeled herself, this time stepping into the emerald vista.
The green permeated this chamber; it carried the scent of forests and of poison. Green was the color of life, even if it was wild or dangerous. Roen sighed with relief. After the last vision, she needed to see something else; that even after all that destruction, there was still life.
SOMETHING SOUGHT, the voice rang in the distance. SOMETHING LOST.
Roen found herself standing on the edge of a cliff, much like the one preceding the diamond bridge. Before her was nothing but a void of green lights. Rich and deep color of infinite depths and tints. It baffled and delighted her senses. A chilly wind brushed her cheek and she could smell the scent of pine. It reminded her of the forests that surrounded her childhood home. A part of her knew she could wander in this place forever like she used to. The mist was inviting, like a halo of northern lights.
A lone tree came into view, floating in the air; its branches were weeping and pulsing, stretching towards the infinite. The paladin squinted as she spotted something embedded in the trunk of the tree. Some kind of bladed, pointed instrument, carved of jade. From a hollow opening of the tree leaked blood. She did not know how she knew it was blood--it was the same soft shade of green as everything else--only that it was there. And yet, she could not leave it be, it was clearly wounding the tree.
The jade edge was sharper than it looked; even carefully grasping it by the flat of the blade, it cut a gash across her palms. Strangely enough she did not bleed and felt no pain, but the gash was a sickly green. The jagged edges of the instrument shimmered with light. Despite her wound, she pulled it from the bark with ease.
It felt light, familiar, but also... demanding. The tree was where it belonged. It had a purpose, a place. It was misused, and so was the tree damaged. The wound on the tree began to close, and as it did, the jade in her hand began to evaporate into dust. Suddenly, Roen felt a wave of disappointment and despair. Was it coming from the jade? Light reflected off of every speck of dust. The paladin blinked, her sight was dazzled, her perceptions confounded. As the last of the jade turned to dust, the tree began to wither.
Roen stepped back away from the dying tree, and found herself back in the nexus of corridors. From the vista that grew suddenly distant, she could hear mournful howls.
This is a test of some sort. Or… some kind of a puzzle. The paladin frowned and turned to the remaining corridors. She had entered this place willingly, she would see this through.
She stepped through the amethyst gallery, where the corridor was deep violet. The hue was like that of a glowing coral and the shadows drifted through the air like fish.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, her perspective confounded her. This place stretched away in every direction through a dusty purple haze, and it was as if she was floating in a cloud. The air was chill and crackling. Vast and shadowy shapes hung lifeless in the cloud, the fluid staining their silhouettes.
Once again, the voice returned, lifeless as leaden type. THERE WERE CASUALTIES.
Her sight suddenly pulled back. The violet haze coalesced together and condensed, smaller and smaller, tighter and tighter. It pulled together and began to crystalize. Roen tilted her head, and a jingle rang out. She canted her head the other way, and the jingle rang again. She blinked as she realized that the violet haze had solidified into a gem, and it chimed softly whenever she looked at it from a different angle. Beneath her feet, the floor had become a mirror, reflecting the purple night sky above, cresting over dry savannah and pillars of sand. The gem, an amethyst, floated gently above.
On the floor below her, were silhouettes, vaguely humanoid shaped. They reflected what was not there. In the corner of her eye, she thought she spied one of them moving--or did it?
Roen found herself reaching for the gem without thought. The amethyst and its teasing chime, it tugged at her memory. But when she closed her fist around the jewel, she felt the shape change. When she opened her palm, within her hand lay a familiar-looking memento, an earring set with an amethyst.
“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?†a voice called out from behind her.
