The Empire Lament Amid the Wretched Rest | Thakath

[Ashuanar]

---

Slowly at first, paired with a rested yawn, his eyes opened. But he woke not to the shining light of day, but rather to the dim flickering of candles. He sat up in bed, and from there he examined them, and noticed something strange. They'd not burned much since he lit them, and though he felt as though he'd slept for an entire night, if what his eyes showed him was to be true then he'd only just now laid his head down to rest.

And yet now...

To his feet then, and he moved to the window with naught but what nature gave him as his covering and came to the great opening to look out upon the city. A warm breeze brushed past him as he gazed, and all appeared as it should, albeit a little still. So then he attempted to lie down yet again, but forcing his eyes proved fruitless. When he could no longer deny his restlessness he rose once more, donned his usual attire of shrouding white robes, and departed from his room. The quiet click of the door sounded unusually loud, almost echoing down the stone corridor. After which, only the sound of torchlight crackled in his ears.

Odd.

Though he'd only just entered into the hallway, he felt as though he was the only person in the whole palace. Only a short while needed to pass for this to more or less be confirmed - he should have encountered some kind of patrol by now. He should have encountered somebody by now. He came to an intersecting passage, and looked either way. Torches lit each corridor, but there was still no one to be seen. Either way continued to skirt around the perimeter of the palace, while straight ahead led into a frequented meeting hall. Surely there was someone within.

He moved forward, pushed open one of the large wooden doors and stepped within.

Though lit, it was dimly so, and the features of the hall were presented far more ominously than he'd anticipated. The hall was a fair size with many great pillars, each bearing upon it a grand statue. Some were the images of great mages or priests, and others bore a far more heinous visage. Murals lined the walls around them, though from where he stood they were masked in the dark that grasped at the rooms edges. Though, for all the room's apparent grandeur, it seemed that this was little more than a place where council members or some other officials might gather. At the room's center which was sunken by several steps, was a long and grand table with many chairs set alongside it - and it seemed even the furniture here was adorned with intricacy.

His footsteps echoed through the great chamber until he came near the table, where he stopped. At the far end there was a gathering of three individuals, and each of them were fast asleep.

 

[Medja]

Of the three who were gathered was the slumped over form of the regent Empress herself, Medja of Ragash. Silently she slumbered, as of yet undisturbed in the stillness of the night.

 

[Fieravene]

She entered thusly.

 

[Halul]

Youthful and a stranger to Thakath, Halul sat motionless in his seat, arms folded across his midriff and his head titled to one side as he slept. The Vizier's entrance did not cause him to stir, nor did his ringing footfalls. Thus the young man snoozed.

 

[Ashuanar]

Still was his gaze, captivated by the Star's beauty as she rested. But even in such a sweetly still moment, brevity of his awe was required. All of this was amiss, and of the three at the table only one he knew well. The second he knew barely at all, save for his name. Halul. The other was one of the Thakathi elders, but his presence and similar ailment begged more questions. If he were too afflicted, then likely most if not all others were as well, and if so, then who was behind this?

And so the Red Sun burned with thought over those who'd been listed away in soundless sleep, planted in his place as though his stopping would freeze time itself. And then in silence, he felt the dark of Night draw near. Her coolness brushed against his neck. He turned, and beheld her standing in the door - she who had mended, and she who had taken: burning blackness, eyes of fire. But his countenance showed no fear, and though his stoicism persisted his chin tilted up in just such a way.

He turned back to those who slept, saying almost casually, "I find it strange that it is both you and I who still stir."

He insinuated nothing, or only that perhaps they had been mutually fortuitous. In any event, of all the people he could have hoped to appear at a time like this, it was her. His eyes again upon her, and he saw her as all others would, saying, "what do you make of this?"

There were few who Ashuanar spoke to who he did not order, or demand. But if ever he sought something of Fieravene, only ever did he ask.

---

Medja | Fieravene | Halul ​

 

[Medja]

Still sleepin'.

 

[Fieravene]

Found it strange did he? Fieravene allowed him to think so and made no effort to clear the mystery of the circumstances they who were bonded on the ethereal level found themselves in. The dark elf stood in silence for some moments, red eyes panning about the immediate chamber before them and narrowing in unspoken thought. She sniffed and her nose wrinkled.

"It stinks of the ancients."

For the briefest blink the elf looked offended, but the expression swept away for one of continued and tethered curiosity. Smooth as a black cat, she descended the stairs into the room and quietly made her way down the length of the long table to where the Empress dozed. Removing one glove, Fiera reached her hand forward to press her fingers along the woman's neck, just under her jaw, and waited.

Thrum-thrum.

Thrum-thrum.

A steady heartbeat, lazy in her dreamings. Still alive, then, and a glance across the way gave her reason to assume so was the unknown man. This was no state to leave Medja in, and so the elf leaned down to whisper eldritch words into her ear. Symbols of the arcane alighted vibrant red upon her exposed hand, scars etched along every visible inch, an ageless power flowing down through her fingertips and into the woman's carotid artery.

Life a jolt of fire to the brain, Medja would find her sleepy spell immediately seared from her mind.

"Wake up, darling, or you're going to miss all the fun."

 

[Halul]

Entirely ignored by those in command of their wits, Halul remained comfortably asleep. Perhaps he appeared so at peace that the present company thought it inappropriate to rouse him from his slumber. Such wasn't the case, as a slight shift caused his head to tilt too far to one side. Would Halul be left alone much longer, he would wake up with a terrible stiffness in his neck.

Those that would leave a man in such a state were surely people of questionable character and suspicious morals.

 

[Medja]

Once relaxed hands became claws that gripped the table, nails peeling up scraps of finish as Fiera's spell pulled Medja from her stupor. Clay-laden bandages wrapped around parts of her body began to writhe and lash through the air like wild serpents, each seeking vengeance for some unknown slight. Some of them would instinctively wrap around Halul and effortlessly lift him from his seat as both consciousness and lucidity returned to the regent's mind.

"Nnngghhh--what in the fucking Hundreds'..." She groaned as she lifted herself groggily, feet still planted on the ground. Medja's perception of her magic was very steady and firm, a stable flow of arcane force that made the earth move at her beck and call. Fi's particular spell was...not that. It was volatile, even a bit agonizing, but effective at least. "Gods...where am I? What is happening?"

Medja looked about the darkened room, trying to gain an idea of just those very questions. She noted Fiera, then Ashuanar, then the unfamiliar body wrapped up in her tendrils. When did that happen? Oh well.

"What fun? Fuck, I have such a...bloody migraine." Medja griped, holding a hand to one of her temples and wincing. There would be hell to pay for this, whoever was responsible.

 

[Fieravene]

"Questions we are all eager to have answers for..." the dark elf said, making no apology for the pain her aid had caused the woman. Fiera gingerly brushed hair from Medja's face and tucked it behind her ear, giving Ashuanar a glance over her shoulder with a sharp look that told him to attend to his Empress.

Slipping away from Medja's side then, she moved around the table to the man presently held aloft like a hapless marionette. She reached up, curling her fingers deftly through Medja's tendrils, coiling them around her digits in a manner that could have been construed as lewd... especially given the saccharine look she gave the woman across the table, "Set the sleeping man down now, errant napping is only a crime in Mali."

She waited for his figure to be let down - gently or roughly made no difference to her - and then leaned in to check his pulse. Alive, just as Medja had been, Fieravene issued the same cleansing jolt to his mind and stepped away.

 

[Halul]

Having been returned to his seat, Halul slumped over the table, and upon receiving the dark elf's touch, his eyes burst open and cast a faint pool of blue over the table just under his face. The young man sharply straightened himself and took in the present company. A familiar tingle fired through his nerves and any residuals of magic within Halul perished in that instant.

Where was Nyjah?

"Ah," Halul pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he truly blacked out in the Empress' presence, after all the efforts made to meet her? "My apologies, Your Majesty."

Lowering his hand to his lap, he glanced up at the dark elf, then the man behind her and offered a short, polite smile.

 

[Ashuanar]

A slow and steady breath passed through him as he watched Fieravene's work. Her ways were mysterious to him, and her magic - remarkably adaptive. Not even this foul happening was beyond her interference and for this he was most grateful. Though it'd be a lie if he said the manner in which she chose to rouse Medja from her slumber did not illicit some frustration in him. He of course could not fault her, as he could hardly claim to understand the strain in which these magics caused - but he could not help but feel a tug from seeing the Empress' discomfort.

He'd not lash out in Fieravene, he knew all too well her intent and allegiance. But were it anyone else...

He'd tolerate no such thing again.

Peeled were his wounds, festered in the guilt of his inaction. Yet now, as always, he required them stifled, and so they were. The Night's sharp look prompted his action, and all too willfully did he approach. And indeed like serpents did the empress' tendrils approach. At first with fervour did they seek to ensnare, but before causing him pause seemed to realize whom it was they'd so hastily wrapped themselves around, loosely uncoiling as he drew near.

An affectionate hand drew near to her cheek, offering a gentle caress.

"Be at ease my shining Star, all will come to light."

After a moment, his attention turned briefly to the still sleeping blood mage, and then to Halul saying, "I hardly believe..."

Suddenly and rude, there was a great and thunderous sound like the bell of some tall tower. But it did not ring brightly as it would through the air, and instead it thrummed and droned, and almost felt as if the palace gently shook when it struck. It was muffled to them, but after its crashing repeated several times it was apparent it came from beneath them. Deep beneath them.

Another breath, and he cast a look to Medja, and then Fieravene.

Then a skittering in the dark.

The slamming of a distant door.

"I don't like this."

---

Medja | Fieravene | Halul ​

 

[Medja]

Medja had deposited the stranger back into his seat as requested, still not wholly aware that she had even lifted him in the first place. Thankfully he was neither harmed nor apparently upset by -- or even aware of -- his displacement after coming to. In fact, he had apologized to her. For some reason. How fortuitous.
"It's...fine."

The headache was already beginning to pass, she thought, and Fiera's suggestive glance was not lost on her. A mental note was made for later.

Sweet words from the most comforting voice she knew filled the regent's ears. A familiar hand graced her cheek as it did, and Medja's bandages seemed to know by instinct who had approached her.
"Dear sun..." She murmured, the pounding in her head ceding even more. Medja quite liked having Fi and Ashuanar in the same room together, now that she thought of it. Another mental note was made.

Then came that dreadful, rumbling recital and the concerning sounds that followed. Ashuanar's assessment was appropriate.
"You're not the only one." She agreed, dropping to one knee to place her fingers upon the floor. Her eyes glowed dimly as her magic went to work, her senses extending into the stone. For a moment she could feel the nearby vibrations of movement as a picture of the surrounding architecture began to paint itself in her mind. Then the vision became indistinct as the vibrations increased beyond measure, perhaps from somewhere deep below.

Before she could get a proper sense of what was happening beyond their immediate area, some sort of feedback spiked into her head, causing the sorceress to cry out in pain and grab her head again. The bandages whipped and swatted at the ground around her of their own volition, seemingly as perturbed by the sudden pain as their owner was.
"What in...the First Sage's name...?" She muttered, fighting to regain her focus. One more try, less range this time. A feeling, like footsteps. Perhaps many? Not far, just a few rooms away. "Not exactly useful information, but we're not alone in here. Something is coming this way."

 

[Fieravene]

Offering the revived man a faint bob of her dark brows, Fieravene receded from his side to assess the state of their current location. Checking doorways and windows to find them clear while Ashuanar tended to Medja, she gave pause when the ground loosed a concerning rumble.

"Indeed?" she replied to Medja's news of company, "Then it would behoove us to not be caught flat-footed or cornered. The south hall is clear, we should make for the tower." There they at least had the advantage of a defensible position until they had a better grasp of just what was going on.

 

[Halul]

Harrowing discordant notes birthed caution in the young man as he rose to his feet. Halul paced a few steps so as to assess himself. Satisfied, his attention returned to the present company.

He was a stranger to these lands and people and knew very little of the ways of things.

Survival is the ability to walk on strange sand, Nyjah had told Halul before. The young man stepped forward, presenting himself to the three.

"I shall be in your care," he began with a voice sounding like it was taken from a charnel house, "And my blade is yours, should the need arise."

 

[Ashuanar]

Ashuanar afforded a final quick assessment of the surround and their current situation. First Fiera and he, now joined by Medja and Halul, alone - but not alone - in this place. Having witnessed Medja's distress in using her magic, he surmised some kind of power which sought to hinder her. Luckily Fieravene had seemingly suffered no similar plight, and Ashuanar as of yet was uncertain and unaware of any developments against him. His knowledge of Halul made this impossible to know in his case, but he would likely say as such if he experienced any... difficulties.

"Then it would behoove us to not be caught flat-footed or cornered. The south hall is clear, we should make for the tower."

"Agreed."

"And my blade is yours, should the need arise."

He nodded, saying, "let us hope such a need eludes us." Then he nodded between all three of them and said quietly as he started forward, "let's go."

As they moved out from there, through the doors and away from whatever presence drew near, there was a change in the air. Stagnant and stale - it indeed wreaked of the ancients in this place. And as they went there was no other sign of any of the Thakathi, at least not yet.

Coming near to the place they sought, there was another sounding of the great bell in the deep - or whatever it was.

Another distant door slammed. And then another. Then several all at once and the crashing of great gates.

Then the sound of footsteps. Few at first, then suddenly many, getting louder. Drawing near.

"Run," he urged.

---

Medja | Fieravene | Halul​

 

[Medja]

The vibrations coursing through the ground were an incomprehensible cacophony. Try as she might, Medja couldn't trace direction, number, shape, or source from the white noise that was being channeled through the building. She really didn't like this. It was, for her, as if she'd been blinded. What was next?

Run,"

That was a notion she found herself agreeing with. As hastily and naturally as any other time, she cast the simple spell which pulled her aloft, and silently thanked whatever gods might have still been looking out for their meager group that she could at least still perform that small feat. Something was definitely hindering her magic here, but it seemed that minor spells didn't set off whatever was spiking her head when she tried to use her tremor sense.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to cover our retreat effectively! Be quick!" She hollered as she flew in the direction that Fi had pointed out. Anything had to be better than here.

 

[Fieravene]

Didn't need to tell her twice to be quick. Fieravene was many things, but too prideful to run from incoming unknown danger was not one of them. She hastily made her exit from the room with the others at her side and lead the way along the south hall toward the silhouette of the tower at the end of the temple complex. They were met with no guards ... no anyone, and Fiera found this to be particularly strange.

Where was everyone?

Where was Medja?

Ah, floating, of course.

"Darling," she called to the woman as she doubled back and held a gloved hand up for her to take, "you must learn to float a little faster." With a smirk, she clasped Medja's hand tightly in her own and tugged her along at pace with the others.

Upon reaching the perimeter wall to the tower she gave pause at the open doorways and turned to look back. Still couldn't see anything, but she swore it appeared as though darkness were creeping in like a fog through the compound.

"Get inside - light torches. Lots of torches. Every torch you can find!" darkness was no foe to her, but she couldn't speak for the others.