Chapter 172: Mural (Patreon)

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Amelia couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she felt so confident that the woman was pretending to be someone else. There was something about this demon that, despite her face being covered, came across as… easy to read. There was this odd sense of familiarity exuding from her. Was it because her red eyes reminded her of Serena’s? Or was Amelia so adorably love-struck that anything vaguely Serena-shaped caused her brain to pump out oceans of dopamine?

“Hehe…” she chuckled to herself.

“Why… are you laughing like that, Miss Liona?” the demon asked cautiously, taking a small step back. Judging from her tone of voice, it seemed that she found Amelia’s sudden giggle in the cave a little disconcerting.

Great, Amelia thought, now she thinks I’m weird or something.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat. “Well then, Warrant Officer Devaren. Hey, can I just call you Faye? You can call me Lia.” She gave the demon an encouraging nod and, after a moment of slightly confused hesitation, got one in response.

Making friends already!

“I guess we're lucky,” Amelia continued. “Falling down here, I mean. Those wurms weren’t going to stop.” She looked around, peering through the darkness with aether-enhanced eyes. The subtle light from her wards was enough to get her bearings. “Looks like this was an underground river once. What—”

“One moment, Miss—I mean, Lia,” Faye said. She dug through a pocket and pulled out an obelisk-shaped crystal, no bigger than her palm. It was an aetherlight. When Faye twisted the two halves, aligning their aetherflow, it burst out in brilliant yellow light. “I fear my eyesight might not be quite as capable as yours. We are not all so aetherically talented.”

“Meep,” Barq meeped, slapping his tail down. The sudden light had surprised the skimmer, but a quick reassurance from Amelia was enough to calm the animal down. While she soothed Barq, she couldn’t help but connect Faye’s admission of her aetherless capabilities with Amelia’s own perception. This woman, a liar she may be about her name, was no threat to Amelia whatsoever.

“The cave continues,” Faye said, waving the aetherlight to illuminate the area. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, with their pairing stalagmites extending from the floor. The cave became more open further down. Faye climbed over some sandstone rubble, and Amelia followed cautiously behind, pulling Barq along by his harness. “I must thank you, Lia,” Faye said suddenly. The demon held the aetherlight high, silhouetting her against the wall. “You saved my life.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Amelia replied, waving a dismissive hand Faye couldn’t see. “Let’s get back to the surface. I can start burrowing upwards…” She spooled her aether up and began carving out a stepped passage in the sandstone caves. She made it a metre before a panicked shout cut her off.

“Wait! Stop!”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Look!”

Faye waved the aetherlight down the cave. There, the uneven cave floor gave way to something else. Smooth sandstone. Carved sandstone. There were steps, leading into a tall corridor. “We’ve found it!” Faye exclaimed. “This is what I was looking for!” The demon turned, her crimson eyes wide with excitement. “We can’t go up yet. We have to explore! These ruins have immense archaeological value. If you tunnel upwards, you could destroy something priceless!”

Now that didn’t seem like a lie. This demon pretending to be called Faye seemed genuinely enthusiastic about exploring ancient ruins. And, despite the questionable circumstances, Amelia was right there behind her. How many chances would she get to explore mysterious desert temples?

“Mmm, not a problem,” she said, feeling herself grin. She cut off her aether, but took the time to focus inwards and send reassurance to Serena through their inherent connection. She couldn’t talk with her girlfriend, but they’d both found they instinctively could feel the emotional state of the other through it. Right now she could tell Serena was above her, somewhere safe on the plateau. She wasn’t in any danger, so Amelia felt comfortable exploring.

And if the situation changed… Well, Amelia would blast upwards like the Yellowstone eruption of the twenty-fifth century if she thought Serena was under threat, precious ancient ruins be damned!

The steps had been carved into the natural rock, forming a semi-circle around a bowl-shaped depression. The centre was littered with dirt and sand, but through the refuse was a glimmer of something metallic.

“It’s a ritualistic structure,” Faye said, almost breathless. “It matches other Ashendi constructions. They must have found this underground river when they built the original complex. This would have been full of water. Look at the offerings, waiting here after all this—” Faye paused, her hand outstretched. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “We shouldn’t disturb without recording first, Lia.” She pulled her hand back and continued climbing the stairs.

You’re the one who reached out, Amelia grumbled mentally.

“So you know about this place?” she asked tentatively. At her words, Faye froze, aetherlight held high.

“No,” came the answer. “I mean, not this place specifically. The sandstorms in the Salaban Bowl constantly unearth hidden treasures. I’m talking runic artefacts, Written weapons. That sort of thing. The Ashendi were talented Writers, long before the first Word was ever Spoken. We, uh, stumbled across this place…”

Amelia frowned. Was this a place you just stumbled across? They had to fix an ancient mechanism in a lighthouse under attack by djinn to get here! Did this ‘Faye’ really just come across it? No… There was more to this story.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Two weeks,” Faye answered. “We wouldn’t have stayed so long if we hadn’t realised the extent of the complex. It has all the hallmarks of Ashendi construction, the old pyramid builders. It must be thousands of years old, this place. Ancient history…” Faye trailed off, a note of wonder in her voice. Then, she continued, “But it’s not just Ashendi, there are signs the site was occupied by other cultures. We’ve found Dakian geoglyphs, and even signs of Surian influence in places. There are murals as well. Perhaps only a few centuries old, written in Hakian.”

“You… know your stuff,” Amelia said. Wasn’t Menes proud of his Arakian and Hakian ancestry? What did he call it again? His sperehand? He had linked it to the ancient desert tribe of the Ashendi, who built most of the pyramids. “Any Arakian signs?” she asked, stepping up to the entrance of the large corridor.

“Arakian? Not that we’ve seen,” Faye answered. The demon looked at her momentarily. “I have nothing to hide about my purpose here, Lia. For what reason did our paths cross? You’re not Arakian yourself, evidently. But…” Faye looked her up and down. “You came from Ishaq, correct?”

Amelia blinked. “How’d you know?”

“Your clothing. Distinctively Ishaqian. That and your sandskimmer…” Faye raised the aetherlight, casting yellow light across Barq’s smooth back. “The skimmer tack is of Hakian style. Ishaq doesn’t raise skimmers, so you must have come through the Golden Path. But why…?” The demon trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“You’re quite observant,” Amelia said.

“I’m told that a lot. It can annoy people. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Strangely, Amelia found herself liking this mysterious demon. “I’m contracted as an icemage. I help keep the kitchen cool and the rest of my group alive. It’s pretty warm out there”—she jerked her thumb upwards—“so I’m quite capable.”

“Yes… you’ve demonstrated,” Faye said slowly, her gaze fixed on Amelia. “But why are you here?”

To find the shard of a splintered god, Amelia thought.

“Training deployment,” she said.

“Deployment…?” Faye frowned. “You’re not military, though?”

“How can you tell?”

“Your posture isn’t good enough.”

Amelia groaned silently. Honestly! Her posture was quite good enough, thank you very much! Serena had taken her through plenty of etiquette sessions. Although… at some point during Kenhoro, they had dropped off in frequency. They’d discovered other, more pleasurable activities that they preferred instead of memorising what the exact usage and order of dining utensils were.

“I’m a civilian contractor,” she said, “but I was trained in Asamaywa Academy.”

“Asamaywa?” Faye’s eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

“Mmm. Didn’t graduate, though. Wasn’t for me.”

“And how many are in your group?” Faye asked. “Where are they from? Which commanding officer are you under?”

“Are you interrogating me?” Amelia asked. It was meant to be a playful question, but there was a subtle earnestness in Faye’s tone that she’d picked up on. For some reason, she felt like she was under suspicion.

Not like I’m the one pretending to be someone—she stopped, catching her thoughts. Oh right. I am pretending to be someone else. What a strange situation she found herself in.

“I…” Faye paused. “I’m sorry. We’ve been… under attack.”

“Attack?” Amelia tilted her head. “Djinn?”

“Djinn?” Now it was Faye’s turn to tilt her head. “No. Southern mercenaries.”

“Mercenaries?”

“Under the employ of Murakami Takeyoshi.”

Faye looked at her expectantly. It was not an unfamiliar name. In fact, it was a name Amelia had only recently heard for the first time. Spoken by Serena when they’d met Sarafina in Ishaq.

“Murakami Takeyoshi,” Amelia echoed. “The leader of the Crimson Reapers?”

“Former leader,” Faye said. “The Crimson Reapers were taken down last year. Takeyoshi escaped to the South, where he rebuilt his mercenary empire with the aid of the lawlessness in the Passage. I believe his group goes by the name of the Red Hands.”

Red Hands? Amelia thought. Wasn’t that the group Menes mentioned as being particularly violent in the Passage? “How do you know they worked for him?” she asked.

“We caught a survivor after one of their attacks,” Faye said. Her jaw clenched momentarily. “The admiral… made him talk. They are Southern tribal fighters. Promised Written weapons and red crystal. But something must be motivating Takeyoshi to attack beyond that. There must be something valuable here he wants. We’ve been trying to find the lower levels.” Faye clicked her tongue. “I didn’t expect to get down here in the way I did.”

“You don’t seem to be worried that I’m one of those mercenaries,” Amelia said.

“If you were, why would you save me? Besides, our attackers have been Southerners. You are…” The demon paused, examining Amelia in the low light. For a brief moment, she was worried Faye would see through her Kanaxai disguise. “Half-Samino, half-Cerulean… You have the dark hair of the East, but not the horns.”

“You’re very observant,” Amelia said.

“People keep telling me.”

“I’m from Noheim,” Amelia said, echoing her official backstory.

“Noheim?” Faye nodded. “I’ve spent time there. Engineering work. The smog made it miserable, didn’t it? At least they’ve fixed it now.”

“Yeah…”

“And if you were one of our attackers, then what could I do?” Faye said, shrugging. “You must be first… second—no, with that external ward you cast. A third-circle icemage. That’s very impressive, Lia. For someone as young as you. How old are you? Twenty-five? Why weren’t you able to graduate? I would have assumed you would have caught the eye of Lord Inoue there. She has a talent for talent.”

Amelia felt like she was being read like a book.

“Shall we, uh, continue?” Amelia gestured to the long corridor, trying to change the subject. “I’m excited about exploring as much as you!”

Faye sniffed. “Archaeology is a growing science, Lia. It’s not merely exploring. But yes, we can continue. Will your sandskimmer be fine?” She nodded at Barq.

“I think so,” Amelia said. Barq seemed nervous, which wasn’t a surprise considering what they’d just gone through. He seemed determined to stay by Amelia’s side, practically bopping her with his hovering body. She wouldn’t leave him alone, either. It would be scary to be down here alone, in the dark. “He’ll come with us,” she explained. “The corridor is wide enough. Skimmers are great sensors. He can warn us about any danger.”

So they began walking.

The corridors were built from sandstone slabs, each carved with a relief. They weren’t artistic representations up to the standards of modern art, but they were enough to see what they were of. Animals mostly. Birds, fish. She even saw a skimmer.

“Look, Barq,” she whispered, pointing. “It’s you!”

“Meep,” came the reply.

After a hundred metres they realised the corridor was slightly curved. Were they in a small section of a giant ring? It took another few minutes of walking before they reached their first branch. They could keep going, or turn into the circle and head down a new path, steeply carving downwards.

“I would have hoped we would find a way to the surface,” Faye said quietly. She raised the aetherlight. “I can’t see the end,” she said.

“It’s about fifty metres,” Amelia said.

“Your eyesight is excellent, Lia.”

“Thank you, Faye.”

“Let’s head down carefully,” Faye said, taking the first tentative step. 

Amelia followed, and they walked in silence for a dozen seconds before a memory sparked in her mind. It was something that brought a smile to her face.

“We better hope they didn’t set up a boulder trap,” she said.

“Boulder trap?” Faye paused, turning. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you know,” Amelia said. “We would walk halfway and then step on a pressure plate and then a boulder would drop from above, and we’d have to outrun it to the bottom to survive! Like in any good dungeon design!”

“Dungeon… design?” Faye looked extremely confused.

“Yeah, like…” Amelia sighed. She couldn’t exactly explain how this temple reminded her of one of the raids in the game she played in her own world. Her character had been quite adept at dodging rolling boulders, poison arrows, scorpion-filled pits and everything else. “All I’m saying,” she continued, “is if I designed a secret ancient temple, I would fill it with traps to keep looters out.”

Faye didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Lia…” she said slowly. “In a bedtime story, maybe…”

“It’s just a thought,” Amelia muttered.

They continued walking. It might have been Amelia’s imagination, but she swore Faye started being more careful where she walked. Well, if there were any traps, she was ready to defeat them.

“Ashendi constructions often have an inner sanctum,” Faye explained, her footsteps echoing in the sloped corridor. “In the deepest parts. Considering how far underground we are, we might be approaching this place’s sanctum. Although it’s so big it might have multiple. We must… we must be the first people to walk here for centuries, perhaps even millennia. Look at these carvings. They are definitely the Southern branch of Urda. They’re in the classic form of the Ashendi Old Kingdom. There’s Bain, the Beetle God—Oh! There’s Falin, the Ant God. Isn’t this—”

Faye's growing excitement was briefly lost on Amelia as her mind became preoccupied with a strange realisation. It felt weird to even think, and certainly not something she could casually bring up. But…

Faye smelt like Serena.

Was she imagining it? No, she wasn’t imagining it. She knew what Serena smelled like. Her nervous system was aligned to Serena’s scent as much as her soul was to her shard. Perfect harmony. Zero chance of mistake. But that didn’t explain why…

Could it be that—

“Look, Lia!” Faye’s excited voice dragged Amelia out of a strange thought. “They have a rendition of Rhaknam! Do you know what that means?”

“Uh? Oh, sorry. What?” Amelia blinked. “What does it mean?”

“Rhaknam was born during the Long Discordancy. Well, historians debate the century, but the point is he wasn’t around when the Ashendi first built this place. They must have returned and added his image down here! Maybe it wasn’t the Ashendi. This could be Dakian… no, they favoured geoglyphs. It’s a shame they don’t include a reference scale, although I suppose that would be asking too much… Ah, our path ends!”

The sloped corridor ended in another corridor, this one much wider than the one before. Barq had plenty of space to move now, but he stayed obediently by Amelia’s side. While the skimmer kept close, Faye didn’t hesitate to move away, waving her aetherlight high, revealing a massive mural that ran the length of the inner wall, stretching as far as Amelia could see.

“These are histographic murals!” Faye called out. “It’s how the Ashendi recorded the events they experienced. This is… this is an unbelievable find, Lia. Even if there aren’t any runic artefacts, the value of this is something else. Seven hells, I didn’t bring my camera! I hope Faye, um… I mean. Look at the detail!” She pointed at part of the mural. It was a battle of some kind. Dozens of characters fought in faded, painted armour.

“It should be chronological,” Faye said. “We walk anti-clockwise to go forward in time, and clockwise to go back. This battle is… hmm…” She held the aetherlight close. “I think it’s one of the defences of Suria. Yes, look, they’ve drawn rockburrowers. This big one must be Amlaq. Is this before the Empress… quick, Lia!” Without waiting for a response, Faye speedwalked ahead.

The demon moved the aetherlight over the mural slowly, vocalising the story. “Amlaq attacked Suria,” she murmured. “A human kingdom, fending off the Eternal Night. Look, here they represent the Long Discordancy as a black moon. That’s quite common in old writing, you know? So Suria held strong. Amlaq sent its spawn and allies first, but it wasn’t enough. Eventually he joined in, determined to crush them. Suria still held. Held… until… Ah. There she is.”

Faye had stopped at a part of the mural. There, a huge spider crested the horizon. The mural went on to show the spider battling with Amlaq. From the rapid lines and faded colours that must have once been vibrant, the authors of the mural must have been trying to communicate spellcasting.

“Child of Mura…” Faye breathed out.

“The Empress, right?”

“This must be her crusade against the Titanlord,” Faye explained. “She defeats Amlaq. Look, this must be her invoking the Third-Word!” The demon pointed at a large section of the mural, dedicated to the Empress in her spider form, with a hundred rays launching out of her, reaching the very top and bottom of the wall. The next part showed her crushing Amlaq, and with it…

“The land was broken,” Faye muttered. “Suria destroyed, and in its place…”

“The Shattered Isles,” Amelia finished.

“It’s just like we were taught,” Faye said. “Look, it has the Empress taking her Cerulean form.” The demon raised a hand, as if wanting to tentatively touch the Empress before pulling her hand away. “Best we don’t touch the mural, Lia,” the demon said. “It will be fragile after all this time.”

You’re the one who was going to touch it, Amelia thought with an eye roll.

“Child of Mura,” Faye said again, pointing out some carved lettering under the Empress. “I think this calls her the Harbinger of Goodlight. Bane of… Badlight? No… Darklight. Interesting. I haven’t heard that title before. This whole mural”—Faye cast her aetherlight, gesturing down the curved corridor—“must have been added after the Long Discordancy. They must have wanted to record what happened. But why here? What’s so special about this place?”

“You can read this?” Amelia asked, nodding at the ancient script.

“I’m good with languages,” Faye responded casually. “Once you know enough, picking up new ones is relatively straightforward. Look, the mural ends here. Is this blank space? No, I think this is vandalism. Why would someone…?”

Faye’s voice faded in Amelia’s mind, for her words had triggered another memory. A recent one of when she’d discovered the numerous graffiti in the lighthouse, written in all kinds of desert languages that none of them could read. What had Serena said?

Nina would know, Serena had explained. She’s good with languages.

“There’s no way…” Amelia murmured.

“There’s no way!” Faye shouted, anger in her voice. “Someone’s destroyed the beginning of the mural! This is where it would start. This should show us the beginning of the Long Discordancy. The continent collision… why would someone want to hide it!? Look, Lia! The vandalism goes on and on until the South was invaded. What else is missing…”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Amelia said. The woman claiming to be Faye hadn’t heard her and had moved ahead, practically jogging around the mural. Amelia hurried to catch up, running past the broken part. A small part of her mind made the connection between the broken mural and what Speaker Asrar had said, but the rest of her mind was focused on something more immediate.

“The mural splits,” the demon called out. “It’s telling two stories at the same time. The top is the story of the Empress, and the bottom is what the South went through while it was happening. It shows the Empress communing the First-Word of Hellfire while the South was facing ecological collapse. And here, you can see the desertification and Amlaq wreaking havoc when the Empress is communing the Second-Word during the Second Crusade. Which means, over here…” Faye ran on ahead.

“Wait up a minute!”

“It’s the battle against Anathema’s champion,” Faye said, excitement dripping from her voice. “Look, that’s them fighting. The Empress with her spear, against the blade of darkness!” Amelia just caught the sight of the Empress locked against a shadowy figure before Faye moved ahead. “But the Second-Word wasn’t enough. The Empress called upon a greater power and communed the Third-Word! It’s just—oh Moons, is that her…?”

“Will you just wait!” Amelia shouted. “I want to ask you…”

Amelia trailed off, her eyes moving to the mural in front of her.

It took her a few seconds to realise what she was seeing.

And even then, she didn’t understand it.

The Ashendi had recorded the Empress communing the Third-Word. From Diego, Amelia knew this would be the moment the Empress took in her shard from a shattered god, but the Ashendi hadn’t represented it quite like that. There, in faded ink, was an image of the Empress, kneeling before the fabled God of Hellfire, who was bending down, bestowing upon Elana the right to invoke its name and with it, grant her the Third-Word.

That, Amelia at least understood. What she didn’t understand was the form the supposed Third-Word god was depicted as taking. She looked closely, making sure her eyes weren’t tricking her.

The god was a demon.

But not just any demon.

A demon with four arms.

Mighty black wings.

A wicked tail.

And horns with a very familiar pattern etched into them.

The same hornweaving pattern Amelia had applied to Serena’s horns in the Passage.

The same hornweaving pattern she had chosen when…

She breathed out slowly.

She didn’t understand.

Why did the Third-Word god’s likeness match that of her game character, Dreadmage Thornheart?

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Hi everyone, here's your chapter!

Been a busy week. Me getting back to the gym and sorting some life stuff out. In Amelia news, I've started a casting call for an audiobook narrator. Auditions last until the end of October, so hopefully we can find someone! The casting call is here if anyone's interested :)

Oh man, what a chappie! Part of why this chappy took more than a week was that I was worried I would screw it up and not get what I wanted across. I think I did a good enough job, though! I do want to reiterate that the series will stay true to the themes and declarations made all the way back in chapter one that the world Amelia is in isn't a game world. As in, it's a real, physical, other world existing in the same universe as her version of Earth. I'm not going to pull any rugs out from under you and suddenly have Amelia discover a level-up system or anything, don't worry! (She doesn't need the help, anyway :))

As usual, thank you for the support! I'm absolutely delighted to see the book doing so well on Amazon. Thank you all for rating and supporting it!

As always,

Till next time!