Chronicles Chapter III

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garbled and gruesome, Her words are absurd.

Garden of Darkness (Part 1 of 2)

The adventurers requested what they had come all this way through the Honeycomb Forest and deep caverns of Chaveri to do: ask if Edenlline could return to be with the kin. They begged for such unity to be achieved, in order to ensure a safe future.

Edenlline dismissed the idea. “My dears, I alone cannot provide everyone protection from the universe’s grand dangers. I would need them all to be by my side to ever accomplish what I once did in the ancient past. . .” She huffed, becoming irritated, “I would especially need Veduro, ‘else I refuse to continue so frivolously. I miss Them.”

And what if we find Swa, would you then choose to return?

“You seek a quest that you have no records for. Veduro has been missing for many, many centuries. Ever since such pitiful battles between the bulbous blue monstrum and the volcano-dwelling worm, Swa vanished, as if into thin air.”

She took a shaky breath, sounding defeated, “I do not know where They are. But. . . I know that Cymer would have witnessed Their final moments. If there is anyone to know, it would be Him.”

“Unfortunately, Cymer has long since been locked away. Locked away somewhere that is unreachable even by His own children, His demi-gods. Only something just as powerful and in tandem; something connected to his dreamworld of Sallenin would know how to locate Cymer. . . A god of dreams. A god of nightmares.”

The adventurers fell silent, unsure what the goddess meant. They waited for her to finally elaborate.

A sequn stepped up, asking if the god of dreams She speaks of is the befallen son of Cymer who lurks in the depths of the steam wrought rainforest. She spites the sequn and tells them that She just stated that Cymer's demi-gods cannot reach Him. No, no, She speaks of a beast far worse than Ukiyo.

“You sequns should know already the benefactor of your dreamscape. Did you not know it is upheld by the very monsters you avoid in your lifetime? Cymer only has a powerful spirit world because He sold His dignity to the shadows, whereas I do everything myself. Even if my watchers pail in comparison to kosmos, at least they rest easy knowing it is I alone who watches over them.”

She huffed, getting angry and having to forcefully calm herself down. “Nevertheless, it is His dependency that may save His skin. If anyone can somehow get ahold of the Arch, despite how much it shields itself away in its Edwardian mansion, I know for sure that defiant creature can tell you exactly where Cymer is.”

“But you must be careful. As I’m sure your mother read to you in horrific children’s folktales, these are not beasts to be trifled with. They measure against you in ways unimaginable and I’m in no position to protect you.”

The adventurers ask how Edenlline expects them to speak to the Arch, or any lindost for that matter. They ask why She can't help them, since She seems keen on at least explaining.

Edenlline hissed and threw Her claws towards a window of Her palace, where there is nothing but darkness and dust. “Because I don't care what the outcome is from your little journey. I don't involve myself with you anymore, I just keep the spirits of my kin happy. Besides, I want nothing to do with that crowned shadow. Those disgusting banshees are the reason half my kingdom is suffering eternal torment… they never came to take the aura, leaving all these poor half-souled corpses to wander… all because they spite me. They purposefully keep my kin away from their deserved heaven.”

The adventurers are taken aback, feeling sorry for the Cardinal as they realize all She wants is for Her kin to go to their happy afterlife, but they were refused it.

They once again ask what they need to know in order to find this god of nightmares, not requesting the goddess to leave Her solitude again.

She sighs. “That is the tricky part, isn't it. If there was any way to get to the parallm plane without the help of a resident, I’d have already used it to get some well deserved revenge on those parasites. But, alas, there is not. If you wish to speak with the Arch, you need to find a shadow strong enough to bring you all to the alt-plane. In that case, you would need an adversary, or multiple minurs. Convincing simply one shadow would be hard enough.”

“There has to be a way to find Cymer or Veduro without involving monsters, right?” The adventurers pleaded, but no avail.

Edenlline only shook her head. “Don’t you think I would have gotten dear Veduro back if that was the case? Their rescue relies on Cymer and as much as I despise that blue monstrosity, he is needed. Especially for the answers you want, you’d need him too.”

The flames of Her mane died down and She returned to Her resting position atop the endless staircase. “I believe your best opportunity is present now though. This planet is the chosen ur-world of an adversary, it’s your best chance to contact the Arch. I know it bothers the people of the Verge regularly, but I recall those occultists mentioning it actually likes staying near Thistleweed.”

Edenlline watched as some of the ptitihians tried to speak, tried to argue, but She deafened the room and closed Her eyes. She needed the silence to fully tie off Her thoughts. She turned her attention to the group, irritatingly, and continued.

“That’s all I have for you. Come back if you ever find Cymer and I’ll reevaluate if you’re worth my time and energy.”

Thus the ptithians were shunned away from Her temple as white fire enclosed the floor and the ethereal clouds covered the god’s figure and the endless stairs leading up towards Her. She was done speaking.

They followed her words. Some of them knew what She meant by “people of the Verge” and decided to go towards that, whereas others departed to speak to the thorny dwellers of Thistleweed. Neither of which was an easy trip, requiring travel through the dark grove.

As if the aurix wasn’t bad enough with its windiage and starving animals, the dark grove held the ominous and unknown, the briars and basilisks that filled the nightmarish bedtime stories of children and fears that persisted until adulthood. At least the dark grove was hospitable, the group passed cottages and camps as they followed the dirt road deeper and deeper.

Thistleweed was not a welcoming town. Its residents were strong and caring, but newcomers pestering their daily routine were not well-liked. Life in the midst of the grove was met with constant threat, no matter how many walls of thorny vines and wood were made, briars broke them down without issue. There was a rumor about Tthisteweed the adventurers had to adhere to; there was always a chance the ptithian you were speaking to be a vindiago in disguise.

Time spent among Thistleweed residents and members of the occult all led to the same answer that Edenlline had supplied: That a shadow was near the town. Although the Verge’s leader grimaced at the mention of the monster, as if having a personal vendetta, he refused to state anything more, not desiring to help.

The ptithians ended up in the same situation: Forced to explore the deep grove, all other options exhausted, but their attempts would be futile. It was as if searching for a ghost, except a ghost would probably be easier.

They passed by caravans and hunters, some dragging pelts behind them. none of them could help. Not until one lone taroot approached from the dense shrubbery when they were close to the river. She raised up and folded her hands behind her back, crookedly smiling as she got close and inspected some of the adventurers.

She asked if they were lost? Perhaps a brair hunting group that had gotten turned around? She mocked how some of them looked like they’ve wandered out from the underworld and only got deadeye stares in return.

“The Sage sent us to find a shadow. She said it’s somewhere around here. But… I think She just wanted to get rid of us.” One of the adventurers said.

“Old Eden? Why, since when does She speak to you?”

“We were in the Aurix caverns.” Another replied.

The strange taroot approached the one who answered. She tilted her head. “And… you’re looking for a shadow? You know they don’t live on Ptitheros right? They are… above us, literally, in the dark atmosphere, no?”

“The Sage said this one stays on Ptitheros.”

She giggled. “Oh, my bad. Then it must be true. A god wouldn’t lie.” She went back on all-fours and went back towards the dense bramble. “Well, you’re just going to end up lost the longer you spend out here. So, how about we wrap up your stupid little quest? Come on.” She snapped her talons to rudely make them all hurry.

She did not wait for the adventurers. They either took the risk and followed her or stayed behind by the river. She led the brave, yet stupid, ptithians deeper into the dark grove, where the canopy shrouded most sunlight. She was chatty, endlessly talking about various, useless things as she walked and pointed out all the reflective animal eyes that were watching the helpless ptithians.

Finally, she stopped and raised up on her hind legs again. She dramatically turned to the group and placed her arm over her head, rolling her eyes. Her acting was terrible. “The Great Sage has called upon you, our cosmic adversary! Show yourself, for thee—”

“Be quiet!” Something shouted from the trees. A lanky figure, darker than midnight, crawled down to a low branch and crossed his legs with perfect balance. “Shadows above, more hunters… great. Listen, I’ll never take the first strike. So if you all just go on your merry back to the Verge, nobody will get hurt. And you can tell your sorry excuse of a leader to shove a thorn up his ass.”

“They’re not hunters. They’re idiots who got lost in the grove looking for you.” The taroot replied, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nobody comes looking around here besides the 5th.”

“Yeah, well, Eden sent them apparently.”

The shadow tilted his head, puzzled. He knew that the Sage lied dormant in the ruins of Her kingdom, there’s no way the god had sent a group of misfits to him. Particularly since She hated his kind. “An interesting alibi. Khy, did you check their memories to see if such a thing were true?”

“No, sir.”

His shoulders sloughed and he fell backwards, flipping around and landing on his feet silently in the bushes. “I’ll do it myself then.” He said, gently approaching the group of ptithians. Many kept their distance, but some wanted to prove they weren’t afraid. They stood firmly in place and the lindost picked the closest to walk up to. He grabbed them by the horn and jerked their head down, reading through their recent thoughts.

He released the ptithian. They stumbled back.

“Tch, tch. Gods sure are skilled liars, aren’t they? She insults us as parasites and manipulators, but we never lie. It’s very, very hard for us to lie. Oh and don’t worry, I know that’s hard to believe.”

He crossed his claws over his chest and looked at droplets of sunlight streaming through the forest canopy. His masked face almost emanated a smile. “So, from what I gathered from your friend here, who might I add is constantly thinking about food, is you seek consultation with the Arch because Edenlline thinks the Arch knows where Cymer is?”

Some adventurers nodded.

“And therefore, you need an adversary to get you there?” He hissed. “Ugh, I hate that word. I hate that it follows me… But… I suppose I’m not up for dealing with your stupid goddess anytime soon, so, I can get you where you want to go.”

The adversary counted up the group. He paced around them, they herded like frillen immediately to keep some safe distance from his barbed tail and raised horns. “However. Intrinsically, that means you have to trust me.”

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Chronicles Chapter II

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As Above, So Below

The archeologists published their findings. They would name it the End’s Beginning City. A conclusion was reached; an age of kin unknown to modern-day Ptithians once lived on Ptitheros. The ancient kin had come and gone, likely gone extinct. In murals amongst the city and from statues on temples and homes, the old kin worshipped the four Cardinals too. But, the question is, why did these ancient kin leave no trace? Actually, they did. The End’s Beginning City is massive, far out of proportion to the average Ptithian, but a perfect fit for the few Colossal skeletons that have been found.

The Colossals were the Cardinal’s first kin.

It was preached that the Colossals were here, just like “us”, but now they were gone and left to rot. Few traces left behind and this was intentional and the Cardinals’ doing. The Cardinals gave up on their ancient kin, leaving them to slowly disappear from their world. If this happened in the past, who’s to say it couldn’t happen again. . . after all, all of the Cardinals no longer directly influence the modern-day kin.

No one can say for sure if history will repeat itself, but the End’s Beginning City foretells a fate far worse than a natural downfall of civilization. Stained murals depict a doomsday, detailing that when an Architect stops caring for its world, another one can try to sabotage or take it.

Information and rumors are spreading like wildfire. Only a few believe there is truly a doomsday around the corner, but many desire to rekindle a connection with the Cardinals just in case. Ptithians desire to bring Ptitheros back to its former glory, back to what it once was and push it a bit farther into the next age. Architects working with mortal kin is a new concept now sweeping the globe.

Ptithians become deeply afraid that their world may one day collapse or another Architect will arrive to steal it. Some brave Ptithians decided that there must be something they can do, right? If such a rumored doomsday is coming then there must be a way to prevent it.

These brave, likely stupid, Ptithians have set out on a quest to meet face-to-face with the one Cardinal they still know the whereabouts of. The elegant Sage of the North, Edenlline, mother of wyverns, gryphons, and rubasyns. Deity of the Sagekin religion and creator of the ancient capital.

It is said she lies deep within the ruins of Chavei, the ancient capital. Hidden away through crumbling corridors and cavern pathways covered in gravel and fragments of bone from the once rotting corpses of her previous devotees. Beyond such, there she exists in her temple; alone and emotionally depraved from the attention she once thrived upon. She is empty of life and will. She has lost everything, but she continues to protect the shattered remains of what she once loved.

Despite the dangers, Ptithians desiring this mission ventured into the honeycomb forest. The honeycomb forest, also known as the aurix caesin, was once a glorious, amber-leaved haven full of beauty and life. It is now a root-infested, accursed landscape filled with grief. Somber cries bellow from the husks of dead trees, fog settles on the ground every night, and monster shrieks echo from their burrows beneath the dry soil.

Windiages wander this landscape. Terrifying monsters, once residents of Chaveri who worshipped Edenlline, now cursed to forever remain a rotting body hungry for endless blood. They constantly seek their next meal and will attack anything on-sight. It is absolutely necessary to carry a weapon in order to survive a treck through this golden hell.

The broadest path through the forest, en route to the most used cavern entrance from previous adventurers and research teams, passes by the chasm that was once the place of a bustling clan called the Aurix. The now-territory of Woarii is all that remains of the lineage who created the Aurix Clan, a large group of Ptithians who called the golden forest home. They resided there long before the windiages began crawling out from the subterranean darkness. The Aurix members thrived here… until the cursed lands pulled them down too.

The clan’s homes and bodies collapsed, crumbled into the ruins below. Windiage were released through the wound in the ground, forcing those who survived to move quickly. Most went south in search of safety. Old houses can still be found on the outskirts made from burrowed-out trees. Some of the venturers may have family history to discover in these recent ruins, especially those native to Woarii.

The so-called safe cavern entrance is located on the broken plateau. Even with some construction and ropes leading down from past expeditions, skills in spelunking are certainly recommended, even with wings. The caverns are lined with steep slopes and dark corridors. The lights from fire and foe lanterns can barely penetrate the shadows. The venturers know that death could lurk around every corner, ready to attack and snap their legs or neck. As they get closer to the city, pits of coal and long-dead torches can be found and lit, but the light provides almost nothing. The glow pulsates down the tunnels, edging the Ptithians further and further towards their inevitable end.

As the adventurers approach the outskirts of the once-city, the caverns begin to show their age. Mining efforts, crumbling walls, piles of stone bricks. Then small buildings, little houses and poor district shops. Banners with writing catch the breeze blowing through the tunnels. Small houses turn into full-fledged streets, with abandoned fountains, plazas, and rotted wooden doorways into large cathedrals and apartment complexes. The inner city may be desolate, but it is still as grand as it once was. The ceiling rests high, high above, a great wound in the hearth now covered in only roots and canopy rather than solid rock. At one point in time, the sky was visible… this place, easily escapable, but no longer. The structures tower above and signs creak, the skeletons of those lucky enough to truly die litter room corners alongside dust and sand. Glowing eyes stare from the windows high above, growls echo in the distance, water drips rhythmically and the wind continues to howl.

Crushed corpses litter the entrance to the magnificent marble temple. It looks as if it were taken straight out of the stories of Babylua, these once praying Ptithians spent their final moments on their knees and begging for their god to save them. She did not. Even within these dreary caves, the temple shines. Free of dust, but not free of cracks and scratches caused by the windiage trying to tear it apart.

A god lies within.

Edenlline, Sage of the North, rests atop the massive marble staircase. Clouds, dreamy as can be, drift across the floor and the ceiling high above mimics false stars and holy light. The walls extend all around, filled with books and artifacts. Shattered glass covers the edges of shelves and gold glints from the fiery glow coming from the Architect’s flame-slicked mane and eyes.

Edenlline begins to move as She sensed a presence enter Her final domain. Oh, how She wished to be left alone, desiring Her rotten beasts to kill the adventurers. Nonetheless, She allowed them time to speak about their worries to Her.

“Are any of you Sagekin?” She asked, then fell silent, the glow in Her eyes dimming.

The Architect was informed about the recent archeological discoveries, as if She did not already know exactly what the explorers were here for. They snapped at Her, grasping for stable words in an air of potent silencing magic and uncertainty, telling Her that they now knew about the collossals and that She had let something utterly terrible happen to them.

Would you also let something so terrible happen to us?

. . . “The collosals did exist before you. They called Ptitheros home, with many of the other creatures you now reside with as well. However, they were not the final product. You see, there is always a method at hand. The universe guides us into what a world should appear to be, and it is simply said: the kin before you were a mistake. Thus, they were removed, and the process was started yet again. You may call it an extinction if you so desire, but be aware, the process has been conducted many, many times on the very ground you walk upon.”

Edenlline bowed Her head, “Be not afraid of your end. None of us have intentions of wiping the slate again. Since our last agreement, you are the final product.”

The adventurers were left the think. She said the gods had no intentions towards purposefully causing the downfall of the current kin, but all of them had still abandoned their world. Some sort of answer had to be reached, or else, would the mural’s depiction of the end-times be true? Would the gods’ abandonment lead to a disaster cause by outside forces?

They requested what they had come all this way to do: ask if Edenlline could return to be with the kin. They begged for such unity to be achieved, in order to ensure a safe future.

The Architect dismissed the idea. “My dears, I alone cannot provide everyone protection from the universe’s grand dangers. I would need them all to be by my side to ever accomplish what I once did in the ancient past. . .” She huffed, becoming irritated, “I would especially need Veduro, ‘else I refuse to continue so frivolously. I miss Them.”

And what if we find Swa, would you then choose to return?

“You seek a quest that you have no records for. Veduro has been missing for many, many centuries. Ever since such pitiful battles between the bulbous blue monstrum and the volcano-dwelling worm, Swa vanished, as if into thin air.”

She took a shaky breath, sounding defeated, “I do not know where They are. But. . . I know that Cymer would have witnessed Their final moments. If there is anyone to know, it would be Him.”

“Unfortunately, Cymer has long since been locked away. Locked away somewhere that is unreachable even by His own children, His demi-gods. Only something just as powerful and in tandem; something connected to his dreamworld of Sallenin would know how to locate Cymer. . . A god of dreams. A god of nightmares.”

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