Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 187: Secrets of the Vale

Part One:

In the weeks that came and went, Syris couldn't have been in a worse mood, staring over the small pyre of bones, Ancient celestial blood and hair, a goblet of Wine, and raw golden ingots crackling over the fire. The gold had long since liquified, tarnishing the wine blood and hair in a sort of pentagram. Flames shot up in a small pillar of light, singeing the top of the ceiling until it was burned.

Rage couldn't have surged itself faster in Syris's chest as she screamed a cry, thumping her fist over the ground. "WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER ME!" She roared, tears threatening to fall. "WHY...Why!... Why."

"I'm fifteen now, Father. I've never been fifteen before. I've never even had a friend before. How odd. Every day, I call for you. Every night, I sing your name like you taught me when I was young.

What happened to you appearing when you heard my voice? What happened to... What happened to appear when I called for you." Try as she could, Syris could not stop the tears from shrieking down her cheeks. "He killed her, you know. That damn demon... Belius. He tore her apart and made me watch. And then he did the same for me.

He tore off my skin, tore out my eyes, then my fingers, hands, legs, and yet I still could not die... Still, he didn't allow us to die."

She sniffled, shuddering as though what happened was just yesterday. "He...He raped Mother. And might have done the same to my corpse. I don't know. I somehow died. But we called for you.

We begged him, you know. Yet where was the Great Solomon, the Wise King? ANSWER ME, FATHER, I KNOW YOU CAN HERE ME! WHERE WERE YOU!"

Bashing the pyre away with her bare arms, a cry that came from Syris's depths tore itself from her throat. She howled until blood slid down her lips.

"I hate you... I hate you... I... hate... you... Father."

***

It was morning when Syris stepped out of her room, welcomed by a bright hug, "Syris!" said Ren. "Wanna have some breakfast?"

"Join us," Said Altair brightly. "Thaan said this place has the best pancakes."

"I don't like pancakes."

"..." Altair jerked Ren away, who happily floated into his arms. "Never talk to her again."

Syris found her smile. "Waffles are so much better."

"Waffles!" Raised Altair with a belly full of fire. "Women, you are snorting something you're not supposed to? Waffles are inferior in every way. Crunch, softness, aesthetics, taste, smoothness, and—"

"Waffles are just better." Said Syris as a matter of fact.

Altair might have drawn his sword had Reina not been holding on to him laughing.

"Come on, let's eat. Art refused dinner last night," said Ren gleefully.

"That's because dessert was far more appetizing," he said a little dreamily.

Ren was as red as an apple.

Syris beamed. "Altair, you like sweets?"

"Ren makes the best sweets. Two moist buns as sweet—"

Streams of mist rose from off Ren's head as she hurriedly covered his mouth. "Food. Let's get some food." she hurriedly said, jerking Syris away leaving Altair laughing.

Syris felt she was missing something, but before she could say a word, Ren found them a chair in the dining hall.

"You two are weird," said Syris

As breakfast was served, Syris felt last night's remorse dwindle the more she laughed and drank. She hadn't known Altair long, much less Ren. But had felt coming to Yarwin had been the best decision since she reincarnated.

The idea to come to Yarwin had been something of the spur of the moment. She was bored, both mentally and physically, stuffed by the need to remain hidden within the Aros estate, monitoring if House Aros was making progress in forcing Earth's king into opening their borders.

It was all a tedious affair that allowed her to grow in peace without worry of assassinations. But Syris was bored. The only time she wasn't was with Altair.

Exploring the topic of politics and civil liberties as they ate amongst each other, laughing and cracking jokes with each other. By the time it was time to turn in for the night, Syris lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling with a content smile.

"Father... If you don't talk to me anymore... then I won't talk to you anymore," she swore, tears falling down her cheeks. "But I swear to you and the One, I will kill Belius, myself, for what he did to Mother..."

Syris pulled herself from off her bed, glaring towards the skies, unsure if her Father was listening or not. She clenched her fist till blood oozed from her palms alongside the gums of her mouth. "I swear it. Even if I have to die once again, I swear I'll kill him. With or without your help."

****

Part Two:

Outside, Altair stared up at the Seven Thrones of Light that stood above the city of Vesim, crowning the city with their light. As blinding as the stars of the Myriad Heavens, they blazed like suns within the darkness. They had appeared a few weeks ago, and yet, despite their radiance, almost no one seemed to notice their arrival.

Beside the Prince, Thanatos and Zagreus stood watching with interested smiles.

"Two more days," said Zag excitedly, ready to stretch his muscles. "Then they'll make their descent. I can't wait. I know Lucifer and Beezubub from Hell will descend, as well as Archangel Gabriel and Zadkiel from the Eternal Heavens. I wonder if we'll see some ancient families."

"I must say... Lady Tenebrae did something unthinkable for her child." Thanatos mused aloud, peering deeply at thrones and then at Altair. "Due to the Shadow Proclamation, I can't go into too much detail, but their entire state of law and order within the Myriad Heavens began with the Night Mother for her child's protection. She even selected all the Tower Masters."

"Mother was so powerful?" Altair couldn't help but ask.

"Powerful?" Thanatos shook his head. "The form you see in Tenebrae is merely an avatar, an image that represents the consciousness of the Primordial Elements. That sort of power, however, is limited. Primordials, while eternal, aren't necessarily powerful like most people at their level. But in Tenebrae, Luna' Mythra, and the others, they tend to be ancient.

And I mean extremely ancient before the concept of time was created. The knowledge they possess about their Elements is without equal. That is a truth that has existed since the beginning of creation and stands firmly even to this day."

"The mythos of Tenebrae is so profound and wrapped in such secrecy like Luna's; it would take a Dao Cycle merely to explain it all. Your Mother has taught many of the greatest evils and greatest virtuous men and women, Angels and Fallen, without discrimination. The amount of favors owed to her was enough that no one within the Myriad could stop her from what she was doing."

"No one?" Questioned the Prince.

"Maybe Mephisto... but even he was once a disciple of Tenebrae. There is a reason we all refer to her as Night Mother. She is truly a god in the truest sense." Thanatos said, smiling. "All other Gods that claim dominion of the Darkness are merely imitation in comparison to her might and knowledge."

The more Altair heard, the more his heart ached. He fought back the tears, trying not to appear like a boy before his two bannermen. Yet even they could see the mist gathering in his eyes.

Zag and Thanatos turned towards the skies, measuring the Seven Thrones, allowing Altair to wipe his tears. They could sense the divinity of each throne, bleeding far outpacing the divinity of their original bodies.

"It's astonishing how powerful cultivation can take you,' Zagreus mentioned quite grimly, "I knew I wasn't the strongest, but for such thrones to carry such power... Can you imagine how powerful they are?"

"Remember when the Silver Devil descended into Madness at the loss of his Mother? All of the Twelve Realms nearly shattered as he tore at the Weave. He was but a boy then. A child. There are just some powers out there that can't be explained, cultivations that can't be measured." Thanatos casually said with a hue of melancholy.

He glanced at the now poised Altair, lifting his lips as a thin, invisible cloak of the Essesne of the Vale chung over the surface of his skin.

Altair himself did not seem aware of it, much less Zagreus, who constantly stood by his side. But each day, it was growing.

Thanatos narrowed his eyes, "Altair, Tell me about the Vale."

"Huh? Why do you want to know?" Altair questioned, a little taken back. "

"Enlighten me, I'm curious."

Altair felt there was a bit of a trap but didn't sense danger, merely curiosity. "The Vale... the best I can describe it is the absence of darkness. Raven said the Vale was the final resting place of the dead, but I feel... No, I know that is only one 'Aspect' I've touched upon. Fallen Necromancy was granted to me because of it." He opened his palm, summoning a kindling of Vale.

"The Darkness seems like a barrier, a sort of domain or gatekeep to this ancient force so old it seems. But its characteristics appear like a black flame, yet it doesn't burn, but like darkness, it devours."

"I don't quite understand it, but I am trying to create a new aspect with the aid of the Vale... However, it's rather difficult. But I feel like the secret lies within the 'Heart of Darkness' that beats in my chest." Altair touched his chest, feeling the thumping of his heartbeat expanding and contracting, channeling blood throughout his body. He could feel he was changing.

Every day, he felt a little different.

It hadn't been obvious at first, but the more he channeled the Vale, the more he began to feel his sea of consciousness changing. It was growing but also striking.

'You are the Vale,' the memory of Raven's words echoed through his mind returned, almost as if the memory fragment was there seeking his approval: To speak into existence.