Isfet-Iah - Shadow Flickered

Isfet-Iah's shadow flickered along the cavern walls behind Baltukhasar's muscular form. Water or no water, it made no difference to the vampire. Upon entering the egg-shaped cavern, however, his indifference evaporated. Isfet-Iah flickered to the cavern's highest point to survey the terrain. Were the grotesque carvings commentaries on the First Emperor's hypocrisies – or satirical depictions of doomsday cults? Support existed for either interpretation.

The exaggerated themes of lust and gluttony were expressed with a consistent style. That style derived from a source Isfet-Iah knew well. These carvings depicted human figures twisting into and around one another like serpents. In the source material, however, serpents twisted through one another. Before giants invaded the mundane world, territory presently claimed by the Thousand Priestly Kingdoms of Samarasikri and Maharagolkun belonged to snakes. Isfet-Iah and his ancestors waged perpetual war to prevent the snakes from winding farther north.

It was the giants, however, who threw them back across the Southern Sea.

The serpents practiced many arts. Not all were dark. In necromancy, however, their craftsmanship outshone all others. When the giants came, Isfet-Iah turned to the magic of his enemies for an advantage against them. Whoever constructed this egg-shaped chamber had also turned to the snakes. Isfet-Iah learned from the serpents directly. The architect of this place was forced, by the passage of millennia, to pursue indirect sources.

That was not to say the architect's spells were woven badly. The chamber was a masterpiece of shadow magic. Isfet-Iah refined his theory of the valley. The ancient giants leveraged the Gloaming Realm's nearness to deconstruct what they wanted to remove from the world. Recognizing that, the architect of this chamber's formation aspired to deconstruct his or her own mortality. The Willow and Gloaming Realms trafficked in concepts and metaphors, not realities.

The architect employed an academic metaphor to create a loop. Engineers might deconstruct puzzle boxes to understand how their gears functioned. Scholars might deconstruct arguments to examine how well the propositions held up. Ordinarily, deconstructing the nature of death would not forestall dying. The Gloaming Realm, however, deconstructed reality – and locked its pieces away. By studying his mortality, the architect locked away the concept of his dying. 

In the mundane world, the chamber was little more than an awful tomb. On its floors were corpses. Behind its balconies were alcoves filled with rotting scrolls. In the Gloaming Realm, however, it looked quite different. Isfet-Iah crossed the veil. There were advantages to being an ancient vampire. In the Gloaming Realm, the alcoves were not limited to their mundane size. Each one contained a library of tomes and grimoires. Glyphs flickered over their ethereal pages.

These libraries contained the deconstructed pieces of the architect's mortality.

Isfet-Iah knew better than to trespass in that place long. Although he was mighty, forces that could contain him existed. That was particularly true in the Gloaming Realm. He slipped back across the veil and watched Baltukhasar progress through the chamber.

It surprised Isfet-Iah that the werewolf's intrusion failed to provoke a response. The chamber had not been disturbed in several thousand years, however. For all that time, its architect studied death to avoid dying. It might take some time for an intrusion to register. Because he drowned before entering, Baltukhasar was just another dead thing lumbering around in gloom.

Perhaps he wouldn't register at all.

But if the werewolf and his companions succeeded in opening the chamber, and living air once again intruded into that profane space, Isfet-Iah felt certain there would be a response. Should he intervene? The vampire had grown fond of Pin Fun and felt reluctant to lose his new vassal. Meals had restored some of Isfet-Iah's sparkling luster, but it would be imprudent to consider himself at full strength. A lich who studied death for millennia would make a formidable opponent.

Isfet-Iah could kill the werewolf. That might prevent the others from entering the chamber. It was hard to kill someone cursed with lycanthropy, however. The effort would take time. Combat would also provoke a response from the lich. If he could find the lich in the Gloaming Realm, Isfet-Iah might strike first and end the battle before it began. In his youth, Isfet-Iah would choose that option. He had learned a lot, however.

Killing the architect of a shadow domain in that domain was a tall order.

Killing the werewolf might also accomplish nothing. With its curiosity aroused, the Abbey would eventually breach the chamber. Isfet-Iah refined his theory about why the Abbey was constructed at all. Its motifs differed from those of the egg-shaped chamber. The Abbey was constructed by someone who learned of a presence in the spire and wanted to contain it – or exploit it.

The Abbey's present occupants were unaware of that history. They possessed esoteric strength and martial conditioning, however. With a mystery beneath their feet confirmed, they would study their records until they discovered some reference to the hidden danger. Then they would attack. It would be spectacular. It would also unleash a lot of violent passions.

Isfet-Iah teleported to Sanguine Eclipse.

A Taoist at heart, the ancient vampire decided to let nature follow its course. Pin Fun had succeeded in partially uncovering a stone door. Consistent with Isfet-Iah's current theory, the entrance had been purposefully buried under packed rubble – and further blocked with the effigy of a wrathful kirin. Someone had known about, and responded to, the phantom menace.

The egg-like chamber was a ritual site, not a fortress, and the architect who constructed it did not fear attack. Baltukhasar smashed through an upper corner of the door quickly.

"Climb up the cliff," he told the gigolos. "The air is heavy and toxic."

His voice sounded heavy and toxic. The gigolos went up. Baltukhasar continued smashing the plain stone door. Then he started pushing and pulling away the boulders which had buried it. The gigolos praised his muscles. Baltukhasar left the kirin statue alone. Finished with his labors, the werewolf lay on a rock above the entrance to the chamber. 

Slowly, color returned to his skin.

"That's a bad place in there," he said. "I'm not sure what the Count of Arlu is looking for, but I am sure I don't want him to get it. We should go around and open the other side to help clear the air."

"Are you going back in?" asked Pin Fun. "You'll have to suffocate again."

"We'll all work from outside this time."

Knowing what to look for, and about where to look for it, it did not take long to find the other entrance and smash it in. Baltukhasar then held his breath, ran down the entrance corridor, turned the interior door to open it, and retreated. Isfet-Iah took that opportunity to slip back into the chamber. Unexpectedly, a hundred lantern flames flickered to life as fresh air circulated into the chamber. The shadows they cast were eerie, hypnotizing, and beautiful despite the garish carvings.

Once satisfied that the air could support life, Baltukhasar and his gigolo monks started down the entrance corridor. Isfet-Iah felt the pressure from an unseen opponent rise.

The werewolf and living mortals entered the main chamber.

"The lights weren't on before," said Baltukhasar.

"It's…," said the Incense Master, "not what I was expecting. But that's to be expected."

"Any idea who built it?" asked Baltukhasar.

He held out some jewelry he had collected.

"My art is music," said the Incense Master, "not history. Maybe one of the boys…."

Isfet-Iah's primal instincts flared. Danger had arrived. The ancient vampire felt secure, but the prospect of battle excited him. If Pin Fun used Sanguine Eclipse exceptionally well, he could win. That was unlikely. But Isfet-Iah's vassal had a solid chance of fleeing.

Bones resting on the central platform swirled like the eyewall of a typhoon. A towering, disfigured, corpse-like being took shape. No sooner had it begun to rage unintelligibly, however, than Isfet-Iah's primal instincts flashed code red. Something incomparably dangerous was approaching fast. Isfet-Iah nearly lost consciousness. He couldn't move.

Everyone in that chamber fell under the gaze of Heaven. Except it wasn't Heaven.

Hell King Hades had arrived.

He looked like a bronze golem as tall as the room. This was not a projection of the god. It was the god. Isfet-Iah could not comprehend how such an eventuality came to pass. Nothing in the chamber's magical formations suggested an ability to summon the King of Hell. The idea was preposterous.

No. It was impossible.

The lich wailed in despair. The King of Hell laughed. Golden chains exploded from the ground, wrapped the lich like a spider's helpless prey, and yanked him down. Isfet-Iah concentrated on becoming nothing more than a shadow on the wall. It wasn't enough. The King of Hell's head turned slightly. Isfet-Iah was doomed.

"Wait, wait, wait!" said the astral projection of a little girl. "Not that one!"

The three little ghosts appeared. Only the King of Hell and Isfet-Iah could see or hear them.

"Wait, wait, wait!" said Harlecuin Sols.

"Not that one!" said Nin.

The King of Hell laughed again. It was the sound of a grandfather laughing kindly.

"What's this?" he asked. "Why would three little saints intercede on behalf of a vampire?"

The three little saints twisted shyly and waved their hands, insisting they weren't saints.

"The world is full of bad people," said Nin. "More than ever!"

"But our vampire population has reached historical lows!" said Harlecuin Sols.

"We need the vampires to eat the bad people," said Iba Algi.

"It's the Circle of Life!" said Harlecuin Sols. 

"Fine," laughed Hell King Hades. "Maginobilius was my prize, anyway."

The King of Hell vanished. The three little ghosts fluttered around Isfet-Iah.

"Are you really going to turn Cute Boy into a vampire?" asked Nin.

"Does getting turned into a vampire hurt?" asked Harlecuin Sols.

A dozen ghostly children appeared. Another dozen followed. Then more after that. They looked around the chamber in awe.

"Was Hell King Hades really here?" one boy asked Nin.

"He was!" she said. "He was as tall as the room!"

"Oh my gosh!"

Isfet-Iah had no words.