Ashes of the Serpent

9th of Camince, 1485
 
I am writing this sitting beside the body of the axiomyte, in the ruins of his tower… The others have just started falling asleep, although my rest is nowhere to be found. The experience of the last two days is one that I never want to repeat, but I fear that it is just the beginning…
 
I shouldn’t be here… “What is it that you seek out there, in the desert?” Ravlor’s words keep repeating in my mind. What am I seeking out here? Why am I even still here? I look around at the rest of the party, taking their rest. Alucard, Rowan and Grimaldus all sleep… Inira now rests in the coffin I gave her, in my bag of holding… did I do the right thing? Hasim’s pile of belongings sit next to his sleeping baby, haunting me with the guilt of his death… if I hadn’t been so distracted, maybe I could have done something different and saved him. We saved the child yes, but at what cost? His father’s life? I should have known better. I should have seen it coming and done something to prevent it… been close enough to contain the snake within a dome of force sooner… but I wasn’t. I’d been distracted. And now, Hasim is dead, and his child is bound to walk through his life as another orphan…
 
What do I seek out here? What will I find? Love, perhaps… but even then, do I need to be out here for that? Could I not have both? Return home and have love? And even then… am I walking down a doomed path with Grimaldus? What is to become of us? He is a man, and not a particularly young one at that, whereas I am still fairly young for my race. I could quite possibly live another five centuries, whereas Grimaldus will likely be gone within the next five decades… is it worth it? Is it worth so much pain for so brief a time together? And what happens if we have a child? Would I have to watch my own child grow old and die while I am still in the middle of my years? These are questions that I cannot help but consider, as they keep intruding into my thoughts, into my meditations…
 
I feel as if I am standing at a crossroads, and no matter which path I choose is the potential for both joy and pain… but which is it? My people need me. The prince asked for my service, and the dragon in Runestone is seeking the genocide of my people… and Ravlor asked me to return and help… he never asks me for such things… he is usually the one sending me away, not asking for my aid…
I am torn, pulled in two opposing directions… and these past couple days have done nothing to alleviate this conflict within me.
 
But, before I get too carried away, I need to write of what has transpired… Hasim deserves it. No matter what life he lived in the past… he deserves to be remembered for what he sacrificed… for the good in him and the love he bore for his murdered wife and their child. His is a memory that will live on, among my people at least, if I have any bearing on such things…
 
The morning after I gave Inira my coffin that I retrieved from the back recesses of my father’s workshop, she found me before the others were awake. Inira is no longer herself at all… she claims that she is still the same person and still cares about us, her “friends”, but I think she is deceiving herself. How could the creature that she has allowed herself, nay, sought out, to become, care about anything but her own aspirations? She came into the room moving like a predator… her brilliant blue eyes are now yellowed, and slitted like a cat’s. Her skin has the pallor of undeath, without a spark of life in her. I wonder if I made a mistake, holding over some lingering loyalty for the girl she once was… am I merely enabling a monster?
 
She thanked me for “the use of the coffin”, as her bones were cracking, seemingly putting themselves in alignment. She seemed a bit taken aback when I told her that I don’t want it back… I don’t know why I found the need to say that, seeing as I gave it to her, but I said it all the same.

She started explaining what he goals are for the throne… she keeps claiming that she wants to become the new judge of the dead and that her ascending to that position will basically fix many of the issues with the world. She insists that she isn’t doing it out of a desire for power, but that she knows from her conversations with the Blood Lord that her taking that position would help prevent the issues in the Fugue plain and would help prevent the undead curse from running rampant.
 
Inira is truly delusional. She claims that she was within her right mind when she made her decision, that she approached Shard and asked for him to turn her into a vampire.
I told her that from my point of view, she lost Dekar, panicked, and made a rash decision.
She didn’t like it and reminded me that she had said she was going to do that, and that she always did what she said she would do. What she doesn’t understand though, is that there is a far cry of a difference between saying your going to do something, and actually going through with the decision to become an undead monstrosity, a mere reflection and mockery of your former self.
 
Apparently though, I never knew Inira in the first place, for she told me that she has always had a hunger for living flesh. So, apparently she’s been a monster the whole time… and Dekar knew too and helped her hide it from the rest of us.
 
I have come to the conclusion that she and I will never see eye to eye, not that I expected that at all. It is still a loss though, to come to the realization that I find so diametrically opposed to one whom I’d considered a friend, and had even managed to see past most of her necromancy.
 
Inira expressed concern for what Grimaldus is planning in regards to the throne, and suggested that I speak with him on the subject. I may, but then again, maybe I won’t. I have my own suspicions regarding the throne and they aren’t ones that make me inclined to get involved directly in what will sadly end up being a battle for the throne.
 
We argued. Inira claims that she is doing what is best for everyone, and that it doesn’t matter if it costs her her life, not that she has one anymore… because it is within her ability to help everyone. She doesn’t seem to comprehend that sometimes the best way that we can help is by remaining alive and ourselves… sometimes, the best way we can help is by being there for people… I am not claiming to be particularly good at that myself, but I’ve seen the impact that others have had… on me, in addition to other people… I know the impact that Ravlor had on me after the war, simply by being there, and taking me into the woods with him. That healing is something that I wouldn’t have found on my own. And I know the importance of our continued conversations have for me, as well.
I know the impact my conversations with Dekar had on me… and I am beginning to feel the impact that Grimaldus is having on me, and to be frank, a part of me is afraid of it…
 
I do not claim to have the same effect on others, but I hope that I do. I know that I’m not the best person in the world, but I really try to be a good person and do the right things, even when those things are hard.
 
I finally walked away from Inira, tired of trying to get through to her, when I’m not even sure she is there anymore… I did tell her to take care of the coffin, because my father made it; before I walked away.
 
A short time later, I received a message from Kent. He said that Megatsushi returned and it is happening again. If we help him, he will help us. My reply was to let him know not to try and resist the scry that I was about to do… I needed to see his location to be able to teleport to him.
 
Inira asked me if I would carry the coffin in my bag of holding for her, as she cannot carry it herself. I agreed, but reluctantly… this is going far beyond giving it to her… I don’t know if I am entirely okay with this…
 
- - -
 
We arrived in the Grippli village, it was empty save for Kent. I immediately turned behind some bushes and vomited. I need to stop doing that, but sometimes, especially when I’m under stress, I just can’t seem to bring myself to stop. It is getting better, I just wish it would happen faster…
 
At first, everything seemed alive and well at the village, albeit missing all of its inhabitants, but upon closer examination, and a dispel magic casting, the ugly truth was revealed. Everything was dead… the trees were losing a black ichor-like substance that was very reminiscent of the black substance that we encountered in Latria when we were facing the black goat.
 
Tracks led away from the village toward whatever the temple was that Hasim mentioned. My attention was almost immediately drawn to a pair of tracks among the others. I almost would have missed them, but for the fact that I recognized the shoes… they were Elven footprints, from two separate individuals. They moved like elves, and I recognized them as having the distinctive print of the same shoemaker who provides footwear to nearly the entire population of Egig Ero Fa.
 
We followed the trail until we came upon the temple mountain that Hasim was telling us about – they were holding his son in the mountain. Other members of the Serpent’s Tail showed up… Hasim’s behavior pointed out which one was the untouchable that he sought revenge upon. Words were exchanged, until another figure stepped up to join them.
 
Ravlor. Only, it couldn’t have been Ravlor, for I knew that he was in Alcarin with Doodles. He was heading toward the Eastern border, and he wouldn’t have lied to me about it… nor would he ever find himself allied with such people.
 
I called out to the elf, demanding to know who the fuck it was.
“Now, my dear, that is no way to speak to a former teacher of yours.” His pompous voice made my skin crawl. “We must, after all, adhere to their traditions… respect their parlay, for now.” Professor Berthold… formerly of Egig Ero Fa… just the thought of him was enough to make me feel like I needed to bathe.
“You dare to call me “my dear”, professor?” I spit out.
“I see you have finally found love? A pity, we could have shown you so many things…” his voice crawled over me, taking me back to my early years at Egig Ero Fa, before I’d fully learned how few people can be trusted.
“Change your form!” I demanded harshly.
“I think I shall just remain this way…” he taunted. “After all, I might arouse a little bit of anger out of you… a little fire for once…”
 
I had only been at Egig Ero Fa for a few short years when it started… the comments, the looks… eventually, they tried to corner me after class. It was the first time I’d ever manifested my ability to use misty step… one minute they were standing far too close to me, asking where my fire was and saying that they would teach me many things… and the next moment, I was outside in the hallway. Without even thinking, I turned and ran as fast as I could for Filandrel’s office. I was shaking by the time I knocked on his door. I didn’t understand what was going on with them, didn’t understand why two professors of Egig Ero Fa would think to behave in such a way. Filandrel looked up as I entered, all concern as he asked what had happened. I think he was surprised, judging by his reaction. He simply placed his hand on my shoulder and said that “It will be dealt with.” I never encountered either of them at Egig Ero Fa again…
 
“You always did lack passion for what you did… it only took a few dead friends to make you finally see the light.” He lectured.
 
I asked him where his cohort is, for the two were never far apart. He said that his companion was in the pyramid, although he likely might be already on the way to the city to parley with the dragon.
 
“You always were a filthy fucking rat.” I told him, making an effort to have my voice drip with disdain.
“You’re calling me a rat? It was you who lifted the curse on the city, after all…” he paused, a smirk growing on his stolen face. “Wait… huh. Curious… seems you’re clueless after all. A shame… I thought you would have grown by now…”
“What the fuck do you want here?”
“We wish to deal with the dragon. The creature out west, the imperial dragon, wishes genocide upon our people, and you are over here, choosing to make an enemy of the one being powerful enough to challenge him.” He lectured. “We could save our people. We could even use this throne to, perhaps, parlay for our own immortality.”
 
“Change your form.” I insisted, feeling like I needed to take some kind of control over the situation, if only in my mind.
“No.” He said with a chuckle. “What, does this bother you? Have you told your lover about him?” He glanced pointedly at Grimaldus. “Perhaps they’re competing for you. After all, the elf will win… he will die, at some point, he will die.”
 
“Inara.” Hasim leaned in. “Is he bothering you?”
 
“This is why we don’t interbreed, you know.” Berthold called out, looking at Secilia. “It always turns into such a disappointment.”
 
“Is he bothering you?” Hasim repeated. “I can’t make out what he’s saying.”
 
“Of course he is.” I told Hasim, repeating the gist of what was being said. “Do you not see the form he dares to take?”
 
Hasim nodded and began to move away. Before he could do anything, Inira uttered a spell and darkness covered the area of ground Berthold, the untouchable, and much of the other Serpent’s Tail forces. Screams sounded from in the darkness.
 
The fight that broke out was intense. After some time, a massive, gargantuan snake appeared. Then everything went to shit. The snake ended up eating Hasim, Secilia and Grimaldus. Grimaldus and Secilia made it out, but Hasim… Hasim was far too injured, and he died before anyone had the chance to heal him.
 
He did manage to say something to Rowan, but I didn’t catch all of it… I’ll have to ask her about it later.
 
Grimaldus and Kent made a beeline into the mountain, and when I caught up, they’d already killed the serpents there and Grimaldus was holding Hasim’s baby in his arms. Kent was running around frantically and freeing all of the grippli from their cages.
 
That is when I teleported all of us out, to the axiomyte’s tower. I was fully expecting to find myself back in his magical cage, but instead, I found myself in a ruin. We made our way down and found the axiomyte’s body laying in his workshop, next to a warded adamantine box.
 
Hasim’s baby was crying. Grimaldus turned his breastplate and cloak into a makeshift cradle, but still the child cried. I was going to soak some of my rations to make a porridge for the babe, but Rowan handed me some goodberries instead. I mashed them up in my hand and fed them to the baby. Fortunately, it worked, and between that and a lullaby, the child finally slept.
 
Now, I just sit here, writing as I stare at the body of the axiomyte… where do we go from here?