Invitations from a Myth

Descending the winding stone staircase, Zerin's footsteps echoed down the dusty stairs as he deviated from his usual path. He chose to explore the third floor.

As he arrived at the third floor, he was greeted with and expanse of the cold marble flooring, filling the long wide hallways, the crimson hues of the long rug, a scarlet river winding throughout the expansive space. Coupled with the ethereal glow of the red moonlight streaming through the ornate windows at the hallway's end. The air felt heavy as the quiet hallway echoed his steps

 

Venturing into the vacant chambers that aligned the hallway, Zerin's gaze swept over the chaos that greeted him. Beds were overturned, curtains hung in tatters as if they were hacked with daggers, chaos filled the cluttered space of the rooms. Yet besides the disarray he noticed another peculiar sight.

In each chamber he explored, the moon imagery was a constant, especially the room filled with portraits filled with depictions of the goddess.

In this gallery, each depiction of the mysterious goddess had a visage that shifted and transformed, leaving no clear, consistent image. Some portrayals captured her essence as a paragon of beauty, shown with her embodying all the conventional, traits of allure and grace. While others delved into the realm of abstraction, portraying her in a complex assimilation of shapes and symbols.

 

Amidst the expansive catalog of representations, one particular image stood out, a nightmarish image. Her form was twisted into a grotesque mosaic of mismatched limbs. Legs contorted into arms, arms morphed into twisted horns, her body more akin to a monstrosity. Its vile nudity laid before him, that churned his stomach with a primal sense of revulsion.

 

'Disgusting...'

 

Amidst the chaotic imagery, Zerin stumbled upon symbols on the canvas, which color was that of blood, the symbols being the seven phases of the moon.

 

Searching further Zerin stumbled upon a dusty book, that drew him in, upon opening the book and sifting through some of the pages he had a brief understanding of the story the book told.

 

The book spoke of the goddess in vagueness, never fully siting a name, or specific features to her, instead she was described by her actions, as a guardian of the lands, a revered figure believed to hold the key to the people's extended lifespans.

 

Delving further into the history surrounding the goddess, Zerin uncovered a tale of ancient peril that befell the people, a cataclysmic event, that almost completely destroyed the kingdom. But due to the goddess's swift intervention, this event was avoided. The narrative became almost nonsensical, before it picked up again, where it spoke about her selfless sacrifice, offering herself to shield the people from impending doom and bestowing upon them a relic—The [Crimson Needle], which the people received it as a symbol of protection.

 

As Zerin pieced together the fragments of this depicted past, a troubling realization took root in his mind, lingering like a shadow.

 

This revelation left him stumped, what would be his course of action now? If their goddess is dead, then what the hell is the point of all of this?

 

Leaving the room, Zerin took both the book of sigils and the book of the goddess's history and bolted up the grand spiraling staircase back to the courtyard, where he saw the darkened red hue of the sky, the Priest was nowhere in sight.

 

'It's already evening?'

 

Zerin felt like he had only been down in third floor for maybe an hour or so, but in reality, he had spent most of the day on that floor.

 

With a heavy sigh escaping his lips, Zerin pivoted on his heel, his footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone floors as he made his way towards the cellar. The dim torchlight at the cellar door flickered ominously.

 

As Zerin's knuckles knocked against the heavy door, the sound reverberated through the corridor like a drumbeat. Yet despite his persistent knocking, there was no answer from the other side, no creak of the hinges, nothing.

 

"Where did he vanish off to?"

 

Zerin scratched his head as he retraced his steps back to his quarters. He pushed open the door and was relieved to see his room was still intact. The crackling fireplace, casted a flurry of moving shadows onto the bed where the slug laid, its body shifting as it inhaled and exhaled.

 

Settling down on his bed, he opened the book of sigils and began reading the first few pages, as the methodical breaths of the slug filled the room alongside the ceaseless fire brewing in the fireplace.

 

Upon opening the book, his eyes immediately were drawn to the title that said, 'Seven Sigils Of The Goddess'. From the waxing crescent back to the waning crescent, but the sigils were much more than just the phases of the moon, there were much more intricate symbols in play, symbols Zerin has never seen before were grafted into the phases of the moon to complete a sigil.

 

'These are the same symbols that were etched on that painting... Are you telling me I have to learn all seven of these?!'

 

The loud snoring of the slug interrupted Zerin's thoughts as he threw a blanket over it as its muffled snores blended with the sounds of the crackling fire.

 

Moving away from the slumbering slug, Zerin crossed the room to the crackling fireplace. He carefully placed the new book beside his expansive collection of artifacts gathered from the castle: a tome engraved with the face of the king, a portrait of the latest royal family, and a bloodied envelope.

 

Zerin's hand grazed over the books before he saw a bloodied envelope, avoiding the crimson blotches that sprinkled the envelope he opened it.

 

Dear Alden,

You understand my current state better than anyone. Remember the love our family once shared. Dark times lie ahead for you, and you've already sensed their approach. Your older brother has concealed his feelings; once expected to be the next king, he now knows it won't happen. Perhaps he resents me for it. But you, my love, could never accept this fate, could you? You resemble your father the most, but do not follow his path. He obsesses over preserving me as my time draws near. He was fortunate to have me for ten more years, and I gave him Jayden. He knows the truth but keeps it buried in his heart.

I am dying, and by the time you read this, I may already be gone. Please care for our child. Protect him, my knight. He is special, destined to be king—I can feel it. As a token of my love, ______. I know you won't value this gift; you were never one for materialistic things. For what it's worth, I made it myself, so perhaps you could hold onto it when you are near your new baby brother, so I can be with him.

With all my love,

Mother

 

(The gift in question was blotted out by blood, seeping through the envelope and corrupting the darkened ink of the letter.)

 

Zerin delicately slid the blood-stained letter back into its envelope, his fingers lingering, on the corners of the bloodied envelope before placing it atop the stack of books. A sense of unease gripped his heart, a sensation of trespassing into personal matters of others made him uncomfortable.

 

Stepping away from the fireplace, he sunk into the comfort of his bed, the luxurious mattress, dipped slightly with his weight as the velvety sheets accepted him.

 

A sudden knock on his door caused him to jump slightly.

 

He sat there and waited for the priest to invite himself in like he always did, but to his surprise it was followed up by another knock.

 

'Now he has manners all of a sudden?'

 

Zerin stood up from the bed.

 

"Alright… Alright… I'm coming."

 

Zerin walked towards the door and opened it, and on the other side was a face he didn't expect. It was Wisteria.

 

"Look who it is... The girl who drank herself sick and left me to clean up the mess! And she didn't even say thank you."

 

Zerin teased slightly immediately causing her to blush.

 

"Oh, so you're going to hold that over my head forever? I was having a rough night, okay?"

 

She stuttered, while blushing profusely out of embarrassment.

 

"Oh... I forgive you then..."

 

Zerin spoke in a sarcastic voice.

 

"Wow, forgive me? How gracious of you,"

 

She replied quickly with and exaggerated roll of her eyes.

 

"I'll try to remember to grovel properly next time. Maybe even write you a thank-you card for all your heroic efforts, ~My Lord."

 

Her tone was playful, matching Zerin's teasing, though her eyes sparkled with amusement as she invited herself into his room.

 

Zerin's face ticked as he tensed up.

 

'She is getting too damn comfortable!'

 

She walked calmly across the room and sat on his bed, her hand petting the slug tenderly as it slept. Her eyes then drifted off to the books that were placed on the nightstand.

 

"Heavy reader huh?"

 

"Those books are for training..."

 

"Oh really?"

 

She picked up on of the books, which was the sigils for the goddess, her eyes lit up in intrigue as she opened to the first page.

 

"Is this real?"

 

Zerin shifted over sitting next to her on the bed,

 

"Yes, those are the sigils I have to perform"

 

Zerin pulled out a crimson string from his pocket that emanated a red hue.

 

"I have to weave this into sigils"

 

"What is that?"

 

"My blood..."

 

"So, you really are the Lord..."

 

"Can we stop this already?"

 

"Sorry... My father used to always tell me as a kid that the Lord's blood would shine, with luminescence it's just fascinating to see it in real life, outside of his crazy stories..."

 

She laughed slightly.

 

"What else does he know?"

 

"I personally I don't care to listen to all his other stories... but if you want to speak to him, you can, I bet he would love to ramble for hours with you."

 

She smiled brightly as she set the book down back on the table.

 

"Maybe you could get him to talk if you come to the festival."

 

'I completely forgot!'

 

"Is that why you are here?"

 

She nodded slightly, a faint blush filling her face.

 

"I was told... I mean... I want you to come."

 

Her face became more red.

 

"Sure, I'll go then, I would like to know more anyways about your goddess."

 

She nodded as her blush faded,

 

"Are you going like that?"

 

"Like what?"

 

"I mean it's fine if you want to dress simple... The goddess doesn't judge."

 

"I don't even know a thing about fashion."

 

She smiled slightly as she stood up from the bed holding his hand, pulling him out of the bed.

 

"I can show you."

 

He led her towards his closet, and she seemed to light up like a kid at a candy store as she picked out a bunch of outfits, but all of them seemed way to fancy for Zerin as he declined all of them.

 

"Can I wear something a bit simpler? I don't want to stand out."

 

"But you are the--"

 

Zerin's gaze slightly angered stopped her from finishing her sentence as she sighed.

 

"Fine..."

 

She turned back to the closet and quickly whipped up and outfit that Zerin found way more suitable, it wasn't too fancy, but it wasn't anything to scoff at it.

 

The outfit she managed to assemble consists of a tunic-like top in a shade of grey. The fabric seems light, with long sleeves that are slightly lighter in grey, providing a subtle contrast. Around the waist, there is a black sash adorned with white moons shifting through their phases.

 

Zerin got dressed into the bathroom and came out, though he didn't properly fix the sash.

 

"The sash is the most important part, Zerin."

 

Zerin smiled nervously.

 

"I told you I had zero experience with this..."

 

She sighed slightly as she helped him, fixing the sash, tying it allowing the rest of the cloth hang down on once side.

 

She backs up as she examines him, a smile slowly unfurled on her lips.

 

"Much better..."

 

The echoes of rumbling drums clashed with the air, causing her smile to falter. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face as the rhythmic beats ramped up to their crescendo.

 

"The festival has started!"