Chapter 253: Ancient Mural

 

  The sun settled below the horizon as night stretched across Glimmer Grove forest. Soft fluorescent lights glowed in hues of pinks, blues, and greens over the leaves of the canopy, casting an almost ethereal luminescence over Undergrowth. But there was no light over Shadow Lake, its black waters were as dark as the infamous shade wall.

  It seemed eerie to the drows of Undergrowth that such a lake, only a league from the city, could hold an atmosphere of its own; a dark gloom that wrapped around itself and threatened to pull anyone into its cold depths.

  The sunken temple that had risen from its black waters had only spurred more rumors of the lake. Common folk feared the temple was filled with the spirits of the dead, hungry to curse any who might cross their path. Merchants were eager to search the temple’s ancient rooms for lost treasure. And Aristocrats desired whatever powerful magical secrets of old the temple might hold. Yet none of them dared visit the half-submerged ruins in the waters of chaos.

  Few dared wander near the black shores of Shadow Lake, fewer dared visit the lake at night. The elite guards of House Thorn preferred to stand watch on the shore at night, a healthy distance from the temple. Even the archeologists who spent their days studying the ancient ruins of the temple refused to stay past sunset.

  Yet there was one drow who had gone inside the temple at night or more accurately he hadn’t left the temple in over two days.

  Lord Gregor Sientia stood alone in the deepest recess of the sunken temple. He was thirsty, hungry, and so tired. Yet he waited all the same…

  Gregor wrung his hand anxiously as he glanced back and forth between the old stone doorway behind and the dark hallway in front of him.

  Suddenly, a burst of orange sparks scattered in the darkness, startling the tired scholar.

  Gregor took a hesitant step back and licked his dry lips, “W-who’s there…?”

  “Relax, my friend, you are safe,” said a powerful but gentle voice.

  A cloaked figure emerged from the dark hall. She pulled back the hood and her hair fell across her back in a bundle of dark curls. Two dimples formed in her brown cheeks as her red lips smiled wide.

  Gregor fell down on one knee and bowed his head low, “Lady Holo, you made it!”

  “Did you think Lady Thorn’s watchdogs would stop me from coming?” Holo said, an amused glint in her eyes.

  “Never,” Gregor smiled. “The guards are just Lady Thorn’s way of displaying her power, but the real problem is she wants to know what lies inside the temple, and she always gets what she wants.”

  “Perhaps, but not here. If Lady Thorn tries to exert her will over this temple or your family, she will only find bitter disappointment, you have my word.”

  “Thank you, my lady!” Gregor tried to stand, but stumbled.

  Holo reached down, grabbed his shoulders, and lifted him up with ease. “You look exhausted. What happened?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

  Gregor smiled weakly and adjusted his glasses, “You need not worry for me, my lady. A good night of sleep and I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” She glanced behind him, “Is that…?”

  “The door to the innermost chamber, yes. My personal assistant found the entrance two days ago, but only I’ve ever been inside.”

  Holo walked past the stone doorway with slow, careful steps, “Does anyone else know about this place?”

  Gregor followed a few steps behind, “Just my assistant, but she knows nothing about the chamber. No one else has even been down to this floor.”

  “Very good,” Holo mumbled as she looked around.   

  The chamber was shaped in a curving tunnel. Murals and strange sigils decorated the walls, ceiling, and floor. Depictions of giant monsters, powerful spells, and complex structures were the subject of many of the murals. 

  Holo surveyed each one carefully, searching for anything that might give her a sign of the knowledge she needed. “Have you managed to decipher any of this?”

  Gregor nodded earnestly, “I’m quite proud to say that I have, my lady. And truth be told, it was no small feat. I spent most of my time on a particular mural, one I think might be relevant to your inquiries.”

  “Oh?”

  Gregor slowly walked in front of Holo, careful to not scrape his boots across the murals on the floor. “This way, my lady.”

  Holo nodded and followed him down the winding tunnel all the way to the end of the chamber, where a large wall sat. Only a single mural was depicted on the wall, the artwork stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling.

  “What is this…?” Holo muttered, wide-eyed.

  The mural was composed of gem shards, faded paint, and cracked engravings that depicted a large open field of grass cloaked in a sky of dark storm-ridden clouds. 

  A lustrous golden dragon flew upwards into the sky with outstretched wings and a woman clad in black armor rode atop the dragon’s shoulders. Only the woman’s face was uncovered, revealing long jade hair billowing around. She had a narrow jaw and a long rigid nose, with dark lips outstretched in a warcry. Her bronze skin and silver eyes practically glowed in the torchlight.

  Holo traced her fingers across the dragon and rider, “I think I’ve seen her before… that woman.”

  “You have?” Gregor asked, surprised.

  “When I was young, I saw her in a very ancient painting. Queen Ananta…”

  “The last queen of the fabled Vesir queendom,” Gregor nodded. “And her dragon, Vismarya. Or so the mural says.”

  Holo pulled back her hand and marveled at the image, “Vesir… the queendom of eternity and mortality… Someone once told me stories of the legendary queendom lost in the Sundering. Tales of a place where titans walked among mortals, one in blood and fate…”

  Holo spun around and looked at Gregor excitedly, “Do you know what this means?!”

  “Um, maybe?” he said hesitantly.

  Holo laughed, a bright brilliant sound, “The lost queendom of Vesir existed in the Age of Titans. This temple was built in the Age of Memory, thousands of years later. I never thought I’d see such a clear depiction of the Age of Titans here! This is incredible!”

  “Yes, I can hardly believe it myself,” Gregor broke into a smile.

  “Tell me more of this mural,” Holo said eagerly.

  Gregor checked his journal, “Well, from my translations, it seems the mural is depicting some sort of battle or war, it’s a bit vague in nature. Queen Ananta seems to be leading an army of…” Gregor pointed down at the bottom of the wall, “Them.”

  The bottom corner of the mural depicted a vast array of soldiers. They all wore silver armor but that was where the similarities ended. Every soldier was different, from their height, to their color, and even shape. 

  “As you can see the soldiers all seem to be of different species.” Gregor raised his index finger, “But they are all wearing the same silver armor, which coincides with the bit of engraved script right over here on the tile below. It roughly translates to, ‘Queen Ananta rallied all the people of the land to face off against the ruthless scourge.’”

  “I’m assuming ‘the ruthless scourge’ is the army coming up behind the Vesir army?” Holo pointed at another spot in the mural.

  The soldiers of the second army were organized in large battalions, each battalion clad in armor and weapons different from the rest. Unlike the first army, the soldiers here seemed to be of the same species, at least within their own battalions.

  “Actually, I think they both are a part of Queen Ananta’s army. Both armies may not march as one, but they are flying the same flag,” Gregor said. “Honestly, it’s all a bit confusing.”

  Holo slowly glanced between both armies and smiled to herself, “Actually, I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s nothing important,” Holo said apologetically. “So, if both armies are allies, then who are they fighting? Where is this ‘ruthless scourge’?”

  Gregor walked to the left side of the wall, where the mural’s grassy field met a blood-red field covered in bones. “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

  “The dead…? No, dead dragons…!” Holo furrowed her brow. She glanced above the grave of bones and stiffened.

  A horde of pale grey monsters flew above the scarlet field. Leathery black-taloned wings stretched out from the backs of the snarling beasts. A pair of curved black horns sprouted above a wide forehead, and a long jaw jutted out below their flattened snout where thick tusks protruded from a mouth filled with dozens of fangs. 

  The mural portrayed a scene of death, the monsters were tearing apart dragons with ease like snapping a pair of twigs. They feasted on the dragons’ flesh and souls in a bath of blood that rained down on the graveyard of bones below.

  “The ruthless scourge…” Holo whispered.

  Gregor nodded grimly, “...The scourge of Unildyr.”

  “This is what Lord Kaleidrog feared…” Holo mumbled. “These are the Unildyr.”

  Gregor cleared his throat, “Um, forgive me, my lady, I think there has been a bit of a misunderstanding.”

  “What…?” Holo wrinkled her brow.

  “These aren’t Unildyr. These are, uh…” Gregor glanced at his journal and compared his notes to the sigils inlaid in the tiles, “Ah, here we are. These monsters are called Kalden Obitus - I’m not sure I’m reading that right - ahem, anyway, in the common tongue they simply translate to Dragonbane.”

  Holo frowned and shook her head, “Wait, these aren’t Unildyr? Then where are the Unildyr?”

  “Um…” Gregor scratched the burn scars across his cheek, a habit he did when anxious.

  Holo grabbed his shoulder reassuringly, “What is it? You can tell me.”

  “W-well, according to the mural’s text, Queen Ananta and her forces did fight against the scourge of Unildyr, the Dragonbane. And the Dragonbane were created by Unildyr. But,” Gregor pointed to the ceiling, “That is Unildyr.”

  Holo slowly looked up, past the Dragonbane, past the armies, and past Queen Ananta. Her eyes settled on the dark clouds forming above the mural’s battlefield. She hadn’t noticed it before. The clouds formed an indistinct face, a face of anger and rage, screaming down on the armies below.

  Holo’s eyes widened, “Unildyr… is a person…?”

  “More like an unfathomable being. Even the builders of this temple didn’t understand Unildyr’s existence very well. The mural depiction of him is simply a conjecture, who knows if Unildyr was even a he or if such a word could be applied to such a being... However, if these writings are correct,” Gregor wrung his hands nervously, “Then Unildyr is not from the ten realms, he is a creature of the Null itself, a dark visitor in our world.”

  Holo stared at the image of Queen Ananta and her dragon charging into the sky, into the clouds… “Ananta and Vismarya fought this thing? They fought Unildyr?”

  “Insane, I know,” Gregor winced.

  “...Who won?”

  “Queen Ananta, but only barely.” Gregor glanced back at his notes, “The translation is pretty rough, but it seems the Vesir queendom was on the losing side, until they used something called… ‘The Sword of the Vesir’? Queen Ananta wielded the sword to turn the tide of the war and eventually defeat Unildyr.”

  Holo stared at the wall with a frown, “The queen isn’t wielding any sword in the mural. Do you have any other notes on the sword? What it looked like? How it worked? Its last whereabouts?”

  “I’m afraid not, my lady,” Gregor admitted. “All I know is that the sword helped kill the Dragonbane and defeat Unildyr.”

  Holo narrowed her eyes, “You keep saying defeat Unildyr. Why?”

  Gregor wrinkled his brow, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”

  “You just said they killed the Dragonbane, but defeated Unildyr. Are you saying they didn’t kill Unildyr? Are you saying Unildyr didn’t die?"

  Gregor shrugged, “I’m simply repeating the words I translated from the mural’s sigils. I suppose the mural never used the word ‘kill’ when referring to Unildyr. But I think we can safely assume he is dead, yes? …Yes? …Lady Holo?”

  Holo’s face had grown pale, a faint tremble ran through her hands. “...Few things from the Age of Titans have survived the test of time. But someone like this… someone who could spawn dragon killers…? They could survive.”

  “But that doesn’t really make sense, right?” Gregor laughed nervously. “There are too many holes, too many questions. If this Unildyr being was still alive, why have we never heard of him before? Why are dragons still alive? Why aren’t there any of these Dragonbane monsters flying about terrorizing the land?” 

  Holo swallowed hard, but said nothing.

  Gregor cleared his throat, “And if by some ridiculous chance Unildyr did survive all this time, perhaps he simply left the realms and went back to the Null?”

  Holo’s eyes widened in dawning horror, “Or perhaps he was trapped under a mountain for the last three ages… Until the mountain erupted and a stupid girl found him 900 years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Gregor frowned.

  “Lord Sientia, are you there?” a voice called out hesitantly.

  “Someone is coming!” Holo whispered.

  Gregor raised his hands, “Wait, that’s -!”

  But Holo’s form had already disappeared in a burst of orange sparks.

  “Shit!” Gregor yelled.

  He sprinted back up the chamber’s tunnel, wincing each time he stepped over a mural tile. He reached the chamber’s doorway in a matter of seconds, but he was too late. Holo held a young woman by the throat and had her pinned to the wall. The woman gasped for breath and kicked feebly, trying to escape to no avail.

  “Wait, please!” Gregor screamed. “Don’t kill her! She’s my assistant!”

  “She’s seen us,” Holo said coldly.

  Plum’s face darkened a shade of blue as she wheezed. With shaky hands she gripped Holo’s wrist and channeled purple mana. Slim mind tendrils of purple light emerged from her hands and attached themselves to Holo’s arm.

  “That won’t work, kid,” Holo smirked and tightened her grip.

  Plum’s mouth gaped open like a fish, but there was no sound, no gasp of air left. The glasses slipped from her nose and fell with a crack. Her arms and legs went limp and her eyes rolled up. 

  “Wait, my lady! Plum is loyal, she will not say anything!” Gregor fell to his knees and bowed his head to the floor, “Please, my lady. She has a bright future ahead of her, please don’t take that from her! Please.”

  Holo looked at Gregor with a mixture of regret and pity. After a few tense moments she sighed, “I hope you’re right,” and released her grip.

  Plum collapsed to the floor with a hard thud. She wheezed weakly and tried her best to scramble away from Holo. Gregor ran to Plum and helped her up to a sitting position.

  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” Gregor said in a soothing voice. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay on the upper floors.”

  Plum rubbed her throat and glanced fearfully at Holo. “...Your wife was getting worried about you, my lord,” she said in a raspy voice. “It’s been two days since anyone last saw you. Lady Sientia pleaded with me to come find you. I-I didn’t know you were… I won’t tell anyone about your mistress…”

  “Mistress…?” Gregor asked.

  “Hah!” Holo laughed, “Gregor is a good man, but I’m nobody’s mistress.”

  “Then why are you…?” Plum mumbled.

  “Don’t ask anyone questions, child,” Gregor said sternly. “You saw nothing tonight. And as far as you’re concerned, this chamber, no, this entire floor does not exist. Do you understand?”

  “...I understand,” Plum nodded slowly.

  “Good girl,” Gregor smiled and handed Plum her broken glasses. “Now go home and get some rest.”

  “...Yes, my lord,” Plum bowed her head and with a painful grimace she pushed herself to her feet. She glanced nervously at Holo, before she walked away with an unsteady gait.

  “I really hope you’re right, Gregor,” Holo said quietly.

  Gregor sighed, “Plum is a sensible, level-headed young woman. She’ll be fine.”