The next day had dawned, but for Velentham, the next day was merely the next moment in a long line of nothing. As soon as he felt the light shaking at his side, as soon as his eyes opened to see Gilean leaning over him, reality flooded back with painful acuity. "FATHER!" he screamed.
"Velentham... I'm sorry. Try to keep your voice down. We aren't exactly out yet."
Velentham stared at Gilean, his eyes narrowing. The hatred he felt within him for the priest was at the fore. For Velentham, the fault that his father was not here rested solely - squarely - on the shoulders of the lesser Celestial. Still, the priest was right, and Velentham got to his feet, attempting to finish what his father started. "Without a portal we won't get in even if we spent all day climbing," Velentham said, staring in the distance at the tall spire atop which sat the City of Sigil.
"We're out of the hells though. There must be a way for us to proceed."
"Yes. Just... let me think for a moment." Velentham sighed into a whisper, "We needed you, father."
"Velentham... you are strong and your father believed in you. You can do this, and I will help you."
"Come," Velentham said. "We will fly east. We should find a city along the edge of the plane that will have a portal up."
Indeed, after flying only moments and at high speed, the City of Automata rose up before them. They landed at the gates and a gnomish guard in full regalia stepped before them. "Be ye friend or foe?"
"Friend, of course," Velentham said with a deep bow. "We have no ill intent, we simply need a portal to Sigil."
"I'm just looking to return home," Gilean said.
"Very well. Center of the city. Mind that you touch nothing you don't understand."
"You have our word."
The tiny guard opened the gate to reveal a city that seemed to rotate on giant cog wheels. Everything was mechanized, including the street sweepers that moved along with jerking, halting movements. There was absolutely nothing natural, and to punctuate their differences, the first words from Velentham's mouth were, "It's hideous," while Gilean said, "Wow, impressive."
They ended up walking into the main square, more of a circle than square, as the entire contraption rotated on cogs which revealed and disguised a myriad of doors. A woman sat on the bench that rotated along with the fountain in the center, contentedly reading, and it was to her that Velentham turned on his charm. "Greetings, madame. I was wondering if you could point my friend and I in the direction of the portal to Sigil?"
Velentham felt the familiar tingle through he body as he sent wave after wave of charming energies toward the woman. Helpless, she replied with a coquettish smile, "Wait three full turns and the door to the north will appear once more. Would you like to sit here with me and wait?" Velentham pulled himself up to his full height and began to bow but was halted by Gilean stepping in front of him.
"Thank you," Gilean said. "That's very kind of you. We will just wait over there."
Velentham, thwarted, gave a polite bow to the woman before following Gilean to the other side of the square. "There's really no need to influence people like that," Gilean said. "It's a bad habit to get into."
"There was no need for you to interfere. You have a bad habit of doing that, too, you know."
"People are entitled to their free will. You shouldn't interfere with that just because you can. Not unless it's necessary."
"Well I did nothing to her that wouldn't have naturally happened," Velentham said with a shrug. "I can't help what I am."
"Yes, but you don't have to encourage it. You can restrain yourself. Learn to minimize the impact. You do have control over yourself."
"You aren't my father. I don't need your guidance."
Paying no further attention to Gilean's words, Velentham rose at the first sight of the Sigil portal as it clicked into place. "There. Come on, before it vanishes again."
The two men rose and entered the door, finding themselves almost immediately in a new place. Whether or not it was Sigil remained to be seen.
Anguish
Only Gilean prevented Velentham from rushing after his father. Unfathomable pain, anguish so profound it made his chest ache, Velentham could only let out an animal cry of fury. Asmodeus' black shade recoiled for only a moment before seeming to digest the insignificant flare that exploded in his heart. Tears of rage and grief filled his eyes as the shade began to fill the entirety of the chasm. At last, Asmodeus began to take his shape as an absolutely massive hell lord. There was nothing left but to obey - Velentham roared out his hatred and changed direction - speeding for the portal to the Outlands.
Behind him, Gilean sent Blackblood careening with a ray of light toward the heart of Asmodeus. It connected, slowing the hell lord enough to allow both Gilean and Velentham to pass through the portal. With nothing to block them, the two rocketed over the town of Ribcage - causing an outcry of anger from the denizens that flocked there - and sailed far beyond into the forests.
Exhaustion, pain, rage, frustration - each took their turn filling Velentham to the brim. He collapsed on the ground, howling and sobbing. He had lost the one being that would have done everything for him - did - everything for him. At Gilean's touch, he wheeled, snarling. "You... this is because of you... you did this... you made him sacrifice himself..."
"He made his choice... for you. Everything he did... he did for you."
Velentham knew it was true. He gripped the amulets around his neck, the last possession of his father and the only one he had left. "He put this on me so I could focus... once he took it off... he couldn't keep himself from doing what he did."
"He knew... he knew what would happen," Gilean said almost absently.
"Of course he did... he waited til the last to give this to me... he kept me in a stupor... so I wouldn't fight."
"Your father was a great man," Gilean said. "It falls to you to honor his greatness. Be the man he has always wanted you to be and he will live on in you."
Velentham slumped to the ground, clutching the amulets in his hands as he sobbed. Sleep, as always, dutifully covered him - forcing his exhaustion to quiet him and slip into dreamless slumber amidst the forested floor.
Behind him, Gilean sent Blackblood careening with a ray of light toward the heart of Asmodeus. It connected, slowing the hell lord enough to allow both Gilean and Velentham to pass through the portal. With nothing to block them, the two rocketed over the town of Ribcage - causing an outcry of anger from the denizens that flocked there - and sailed far beyond into the forests.
Exhaustion, pain, rage, frustration - each took their turn filling Velentham to the brim. He collapsed on the ground, howling and sobbing. He had lost the one being that would have done everything for him - did - everything for him. At Gilean's touch, he wheeled, snarling. "You... this is because of you... you did this... you made him sacrifice himself..."
"He made his choice... for you. Everything he did... he did for you."
Velentham knew it was true. He gripped the amulets around his neck, the last possession of his father and the only one he had left. "He put this on me so I could focus... once he took it off... he couldn't keep himself from doing what he did."
"He knew... he knew what would happen," Gilean said almost absently.
"Of course he did... he waited til the last to give this to me... he kept me in a stupor... so I wouldn't fight."
"Your father was a great man," Gilean said. "It falls to you to honor his greatness. Be the man he has always wanted you to be and he will live on in you."
Velentham slumped to the ground, clutching the amulets in his hands as he sobbed. Sleep, as always, dutifully covered him - forcing his exhaustion to quiet him and slip into dreamless slumber amidst the forested floor.
Speeding Things Along (1-2)
Sanria's mind tripped along the narrow line between the requests Colin had made of her, and the desire that sat coiled at in the pit of her stomach. Give up remembering or try to find a way to get everything in her old life back. She tired of the darkness - the looming black wall. She tired of the dreams - the green eyes and the man that accompanied them. If she could remember, perhaps the dreams would stop and the darkness would lift. Given what she knew now, she could fix her life and be able to know people she once knew.
In the sitting room, the thought hit her once again that she could approach Thasmudyan about speeding up her pregnancy. Colin didn't want her to do that either. He had expressed his fears - the idea that her ex-husband might be able to get her to remember not only her past, but him, was more than Colin wanted to think about. But Sanria's mind began to turn. It was possible to get nearer to this man she didn't remember by asking him to speed her pregnancy, then perhaps he would aid her in getting back her memories.
She found Thasmudyan in the library bent over the desk, writing. She had absolutely no recollection of the man at all, nor the child they had together lifetimes ago. She did find him handsome, but as for anything else - it was just as dark as everything else from her past. "Can I ask you a question? A favor, actually?" Sanria asked after approaching him.
"Of course. What's on your mind?"
"I... do you think... I would really like for Orn to have a sibling that ages with him and I... Do you think you could make this child like him?"
"You mean..."
"I - don't mean to intrude upon your abilities. Colin said I shouldn't bother you with it. I just... I don't know what you did before that made Orn grow like he has..."
"Well.. to focus the power is quite draining. I'd be fine, of course.."
"Then let's help Leandra grow," Sanria said, holding her hand out to him.
It worried her when Thasmudyan hesitated and wore an uncertain expression on his face. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Well, there is something else... It's a rather ...intimate experience."
"How do you mean?"
"We develop a sort of empathy for each other... I can feel what you feel, and vice versa."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. I don't really remember anything. My day consists of the joy of a babbling brook, my son..."
"I'm not so sure you want to hear what goes around in my head, though..."
"Well... try me."
The blush that spread over Thasmudyan's cheeks, though faint, was enough to get Sanria to notice. Her curiosity was piqued, but something told her to give the man a way out. "I'm sorry. I suppose even you have things you don't wish to share. It's... alright."
"No, it's alright... just reminded me that there's another way to get the effect you're after... but it'd be inappropriate."
"What way? Please, you can say anything. I'll take no offense."
"You're married," he replied with a soft chuckle.
Sanria knew she was close to an answer of sorts. "Yes, but... I don't know how it could prevent you from speaking words..."
"So you're right. I can still speak words, can't I? Well, since you asked. My power gets released, unintentionally, when I... well, when I have sex with someone. In fact, it's already happened before, with Tarran."
"You had sex with Tarran? You'll have to forgive me, I don't know the name so I'm not sure if I should be... well... what I should think."
The look on Thasmudyan's face let Sanria know she was on the wrong track. "He's your son," the man replied.
"Oh...," Sanria replied, thoroughly embarassed. "I... well... I forget that I have more than Orn sometimes..."
"Not mine, though, but while you were pregnant with him, we... well, you know."
It struck Sanria hard. The woman in her past was definitely worlds apart from who she was now. The idea that she had cheated on her husband before her husband before this husband... "Perhaps we should... just start with healing me..."
"Yes, that's probably best..." Thasmudyan replied.
Sanria led Thasmudyan out to the stream beside the cavern and sat by the water's edge. The place was special to her - all the wonderful moments with Orn were spent here - watching the boy as he grew. It only seemed fitting to speed Leandra along here too. They would grow up close together, even if magic made them grow faster. "What do I need to do?" she asked.
"You don't need to do anything. Just take my hand."
Sanria did as told, feeling odd as Thasmudyan intertwined his fingers with hers. The man closed his eyes and Sanria took the time to look over his face. She could remember nothing of him. Nothing at all. The dark wall confronted her each time she tried to step backward in time. It was -
The sudden rush of healing life energy that blew through her was incredible, and took Sanria's breath away. It was as though every cell in her body was vibrating at the frequency of light, each in tune with the other, each in perfect concert with every other living thing around her. By the time it ended and they parted, Sanria could feel the affection the man held for her - and could feel her own body remembering something her mind could not.
In the sitting room, the thought hit her once again that she could approach Thasmudyan about speeding up her pregnancy. Colin didn't want her to do that either. He had expressed his fears - the idea that her ex-husband might be able to get her to remember not only her past, but him, was more than Colin wanted to think about. But Sanria's mind began to turn. It was possible to get nearer to this man she didn't remember by asking him to speed her pregnancy, then perhaps he would aid her in getting back her memories.
She found Thasmudyan in the library bent over the desk, writing. She had absolutely no recollection of the man at all, nor the child they had together lifetimes ago. She did find him handsome, but as for anything else - it was just as dark as everything else from her past. "Can I ask you a question? A favor, actually?" Sanria asked after approaching him.
"Of course. What's on your mind?"
"I... do you think... I would really like for Orn to have a sibling that ages with him and I... Do you think you could make this child like him?"
"You mean..."
"I - don't mean to intrude upon your abilities. Colin said I shouldn't bother you with it. I just... I don't know what you did before that made Orn grow like he has..."
"Well.. to focus the power is quite draining. I'd be fine, of course.."
"Then let's help Leandra grow," Sanria said, holding her hand out to him.
It worried her when Thasmudyan hesitated and wore an uncertain expression on his face. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Well, there is something else... It's a rather ...intimate experience."
"How do you mean?"
"We develop a sort of empathy for each other... I can feel what you feel, and vice versa."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. I don't really remember anything. My day consists of the joy of a babbling brook, my son..."
"I'm not so sure you want to hear what goes around in my head, though..."
"Well... try me."
The blush that spread over Thasmudyan's cheeks, though faint, was enough to get Sanria to notice. Her curiosity was piqued, but something told her to give the man a way out. "I'm sorry. I suppose even you have things you don't wish to share. It's... alright."
"No, it's alright... just reminded me that there's another way to get the effect you're after... but it'd be inappropriate."
"What way? Please, you can say anything. I'll take no offense."
"You're married," he replied with a soft chuckle.
Sanria knew she was close to an answer of sorts. "Yes, but... I don't know how it could prevent you from speaking words..."
"So you're right. I can still speak words, can't I? Well, since you asked. My power gets released, unintentionally, when I... well, when I have sex with someone. In fact, it's already happened before, with Tarran."
"You had sex with Tarran? You'll have to forgive me, I don't know the name so I'm not sure if I should be... well... what I should think."
The look on Thasmudyan's face let Sanria know she was on the wrong track. "He's your son," the man replied.
"Oh...," Sanria replied, thoroughly embarassed. "I... well... I forget that I have more than Orn sometimes..."
"Not mine, though, but while you were pregnant with him, we... well, you know."
It struck Sanria hard. The woman in her past was definitely worlds apart from who she was now. The idea that she had cheated on her husband before her husband before this husband... "Perhaps we should... just start with healing me..."
"Yes, that's probably best..." Thasmudyan replied.
Sanria led Thasmudyan out to the stream beside the cavern and sat by the water's edge. The place was special to her - all the wonderful moments with Orn were spent here - watching the boy as he grew. It only seemed fitting to speed Leandra along here too. They would grow up close together, even if magic made them grow faster. "What do I need to do?" she asked.
"You don't need to do anything. Just take my hand."
Sanria did as told, feeling odd as Thasmudyan intertwined his fingers with hers. The man closed his eyes and Sanria took the time to look over his face. She could remember nothing of him. Nothing at all. The dark wall confronted her each time she tried to step backward in time. It was -
The sudden rush of healing life energy that blew through her was incredible, and took Sanria's breath away. It was as though every cell in her body was vibrating at the frequency of light, each in tune with the other, each in perfect concert with every other living thing around her. By the time it ended and they parted, Sanria could feel the affection the man held for her - and could feel her own body remembering something her mind could not.
Like a Good Hostess
No sooner had Sanria offered Thasmudyan a place to stay, than Colin asked if he was still staying at Throm's. "Colin... Throm is dead... I don't really think it's appropriate for him to return to a dead man's home." She stood before Thasmudyan. "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need."
Sanria had already walked behind the falls before realizing that Colin and Thasmudyan were still standing behind. She peered from the falls, watching as the men, unnoticed, spoke in low tones. She turned away with a deep sigh. She could not hear them, but she could only imagine. From the start, Colin had been behaving as though he were afraid. Afraid of what, she did not know, but Sanria could not help but feel as if she were being protected once more.
Once inside, when Colin had found himself looking after Orn, Sanria sat with Thasmudyan in the kitchen. The man was ravenous, but that did not concern Sanria. What she wanted to know was how after all his deaths, he managed to remember where she was left with nothing. To this, there was no answer, and a new concern cropped up. "Thasmudyan, why didn't he tell me I was engaged to Throm?"
"You'd have to ask him that."
"Ask who what?" Colin asked as he walked into the kitchen.
"... nothing," Sanria replied.
The conversation when back immediately to the lifestream, how Thasmudyan had been in it, how he had closed a hole, that Brin and Visha had vanished after it all. It drove Sanria mad. She could not remember, she could not join the conversation. At long last, Sanria looked over at Thasmudyan. "You are a healer," she began. "Can you help me remember?"
"Sanria," Colin chided. "What about what the druids said?"
Like a cowed child, Sanria rose. Colin did not wan her to remember anything. He was happy with where they were, but no matter how hard she tried, Sanria couldn't be. The black wall was sitting there, just as impenetrable as ever. She excused herself in a deep frustration, opting to keep her thoughts to herself as well as her desire to return to her former understandings.
Sanria had already walked behind the falls before realizing that Colin and Thasmudyan were still standing behind. She peered from the falls, watching as the men, unnoticed, spoke in low tones. She turned away with a deep sigh. She could not hear them, but she could only imagine. From the start, Colin had been behaving as though he were afraid. Afraid of what, she did not know, but Sanria could not help but feel as if she were being protected once more.
Once inside, when Colin had found himself looking after Orn, Sanria sat with Thasmudyan in the kitchen. The man was ravenous, but that did not concern Sanria. What she wanted to know was how after all his deaths, he managed to remember where she was left with nothing. To this, there was no answer, and a new concern cropped up. "Thasmudyan, why didn't he tell me I was engaged to Throm?"
"You'd have to ask him that."
"Ask who what?" Colin asked as he walked into the kitchen.
"... nothing," Sanria replied.
The conversation when back immediately to the lifestream, how Thasmudyan had been in it, how he had closed a hole, that Brin and Visha had vanished after it all. It drove Sanria mad. She could not remember, she could not join the conversation. At long last, Sanria looked over at Thasmudyan. "You are a healer," she began. "Can you help me remember?"
"Sanria," Colin chided. "What about what the druids said?"
Like a cowed child, Sanria rose. Colin did not wan her to remember anything. He was happy with where they were, but no matter how hard she tried, Sanria couldn't be. The black wall was sitting there, just as impenetrable as ever. She excused herself in a deep frustration, opting to keep her thoughts to herself as well as her desire to return to her former understandings.
Darkness Closing In
Telfenham had decided on the plan long before. He had known when they evaded the Bladereavers what had to happen. He had known when he watched his only son sink deeper into his own mind, stayed only by the amulet he had wrought that hung about his neck. He knew it would take everything and he knew he had to give anything. When he told the story of Asmodeus it was just the beginning. But to take off his amulet in the ninth level of hell was the solidifying factor of his suicide.
He shouted orders to his son to aid Gilean, which he knew Velentham, though pained and panicked, would follow. He sped ever faster toward the crevasse, propelled by not only his spells, but his very essence. He locked his heart with the deepest, darkest, and most ancient in all the Nine Hells and sped toward it like an arrow to its mark. The closer he came, the darker became his mind.
Telfenham was far ahead of Velentham and Gilean, yet he was still connected. He felt his son's heart - the terror. He telepathed with the last of his sanity, "Ahead - it is ahead... blue... black... portal. Go to it... go through it... fly out of Ribcage beyond to Sigil. Do you understand?!"
"I WON'T LEAVE YOU!" Velentham shouted aloud.
"Nor... will I. We all go!" Gilean telepathed.
"No time... for this... you two will do as I say."
From the depths of the Serpent's Coil rose the darkest of shapes. It seemed to fill the crevasse with the frozen chill of evil. Demons that had risen to give chase suddenly veered off and fled. The size was more than emmense, and Asmodeus himself rose in the shade. Telfenham turned back to look at his son and Gilean. "GO!" he screamed.
Telfenham knew what he had to do... and it had to be done now. To ensure the safe passage of his son, to get his nephew home, to set right what he had done in bringing Gilean so far away and enabling his son to get away with so much. He only hoped that his son would learn, would grow, and would understand.
With the last of his strength, Telfenham let his mind go. The fury of rage flooded his veins as he dove straight into the heart of Asmodeus' massive shade. He let his rage dismantle him, his light spilled from his skin - all was bright, then - eternal darkness.
He shouted orders to his son to aid Gilean, which he knew Velentham, though pained and panicked, would follow. He sped ever faster toward the crevasse, propelled by not only his spells, but his very essence. He locked his heart with the deepest, darkest, and most ancient in all the Nine Hells and sped toward it like an arrow to its mark. The closer he came, the darker became his mind.
Telfenham was far ahead of Velentham and Gilean, yet he was still connected. He felt his son's heart - the terror. He telepathed with the last of his sanity, "Ahead - it is ahead... blue... black... portal. Go to it... go through it... fly out of Ribcage beyond to Sigil. Do you understand?!"
"I WON'T LEAVE YOU!" Velentham shouted aloud.
"Nor... will I. We all go!" Gilean telepathed.
"No time... for this... you two will do as I say."
From the depths of the Serpent's Coil rose the darkest of shapes. It seemed to fill the crevasse with the frozen chill of evil. Demons that had risen to give chase suddenly veered off and fled. The size was more than emmense, and Asmodeus himself rose in the shade. Telfenham turned back to look at his son and Gilean. "GO!" he screamed.
Telfenham knew what he had to do... and it had to be done now. To ensure the safe passage of his son, to get his nephew home, to set right what he had done in bringing Gilean so far away and enabling his son to get away with so much. He only hoped that his son would learn, would grow, and would understand.
With the last of his strength, Telfenham let his mind go. The fury of rage flooded his veins as he dove straight into the heart of Asmodeus' massive shade. He let his rage dismantle him, his light spilled from his skin - all was bright, then - eternal darkness.
Clarity
Velentham did not know how much time had passed - his mind was locked in a state of perpetual rage and lethargy. The glow in his eyes blinded him to everything but the darkness of evil which seemed to be everywhere. His mind cleared only at his father's touch, "Velentham, come. We must prepare to leave at once."
"Will we battle them?" he asked, staring out at the dragons in the sky.
"Let us hope not this time..." Gilean said.
"Long ago," Telfenham began, "a celestial name Asmodeus was born and thrown from the realm of Elysium. He was ejected so far, so fast, he shot through the plains and made that crevasse you see. This citadel... is not the true citidel. It is in that hole... along with his body."
At the mere mention of the name, Velentham grabbed his father by the shoulders. "Why? Why did you do that?!" Velentham knew about the legend. He knew the consequence for speaking the name aloud. None had ever survived longer than a day after speaking it.
"We will fly hard, fly fast... once we leave this tower, they will see us and they will follow. There will be no time for hesitation. You will have to follow me to the portal and question nothing."
Why his father did what he did, Velentham did not understand. It upset him greatly, but perhaps the myth was nothing more than a childhood tale meant to make new Celestials behave. "Are you ready?" his father asked.
"Remember, question nothing, and move with haste. Your life depends on it."
"All of ours do," Gilean replied.
At the last moment, in horror, Velentham watched his father take off his own amulet. With nimble fingers, his father placed it upon Velentham's neck, and with a look of pain filled regret, the elder Celestial lept from the spire and into the sky.
"NO!" Velentham lept from the spire but no matter how hard he strained, he could not keep pace with his father. Far behind them a black dragon caught wind of the excitement, it's undulating body coiling through the air to close the gap. Still, Velentham sped after his father. "FATHER! NO!" He knew then what the elder meant to do, and he had to do everything in his power to stop him.
"Will we battle them?" he asked, staring out at the dragons in the sky.
"Let us hope not this time..." Gilean said.
"Long ago," Telfenham began, "a celestial name Asmodeus was born and thrown from the realm of Elysium. He was ejected so far, so fast, he shot through the plains and made that crevasse you see. This citadel... is not the true citidel. It is in that hole... along with his body."
At the mere mention of the name, Velentham grabbed his father by the shoulders. "Why? Why did you do that?!" Velentham knew about the legend. He knew the consequence for speaking the name aloud. None had ever survived longer than a day after speaking it.
"We will fly hard, fly fast... once we leave this tower, they will see us and they will follow. There will be no time for hesitation. You will have to follow me to the portal and question nothing."
Why his father did what he did, Velentham did not understand. It upset him greatly, but perhaps the myth was nothing more than a childhood tale meant to make new Celestials behave. "Are you ready?" his father asked.
"Remember, question nothing, and move with haste. Your life depends on it."
"All of ours do," Gilean replied.
At the last moment, in horror, Velentham watched his father take off his own amulet. With nimble fingers, his father placed it upon Velentham's neck, and with a look of pain filled regret, the elder Celestial lept from the spire and into the sky.
"NO!" Velentham lept from the spire but no matter how hard he strained, he could not keep pace with his father. Far behind them a black dragon caught wind of the excitement, it's undulating body coiling through the air to close the gap. Still, Velentham sped after his father. "FATHER! NO!" He knew then what the elder meant to do, and he had to do everything in his power to stop him.
Brief Respite
Telfenham and Gilean both arrived on the ground, blasted by a downdraft but able to keep themselves from further harm by landing more delicately. Velentham laid on his side, howling with pain, his baying echoing with the sound of hundreds of Gelugon feet as they tromped down the sides of the pit. "Hurry, we must get through the portal," Telfenham said, encouraging Gilean to heal his son.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
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