Eldritch Ramblings

1. Necris

The hills are uneven and steep. The ground is charred black, and everything from the trees to the clouds lie still, as though they were long dead. Centuries past, a great tragedy struck this place. In my mind's eye, it's all a blur. The high hills of Necris were plagued by war, anarchy, grief, and forces from beyond this realm. It all came to ravage the land, and has since left it in ruins. I turned over the old stones and sat in the weight of the past. My eyes saw the souls of a million dead, and my ears were filled with the cry of their screams as their flesh was torn asunder.

A heavy hand grabs my shoulder. I turn quick, unsure what cruelty will meet me next. In front of me is a wide, ghastly figure, dark and looming like the shadow of a tree. It stares into my soul and whispers something ancient. I can't understand, but I know in my bones what it wants; my mind. It wants knowledge. That which I've been cursed with. That which has brought me to this hellscape. I want to surrender to this daemon, let the visions disappear, and return to my mundane life. But it has no care for bartering; it's going to rip the images from my skull, tear apart my psyche, and leave me hollow. I plead with it, but it does not want to understand me. As my cries echo across the empty land, it extends its bony fingers and begins its dark ritual. In an instant I'm fighting inside my mind, holding together my being as a soulless evil tries to destroy me.

The ghoul was too formidable. It twisted the contents of my mind, nearly killing me. Blood poured from my ears, and some crushing force weighed down on my skull. In desperation, I ran, ran to the edge of the cliff and looked down below. Its face stretched down into infinity. The sea sat at the bottom, far and vast. It reached for me with its thin hand, shrieking once again. I still didn't know where I was, or what to do, but I knew that if I didn't act it would kill me. With great cowardice, I leaped from the peak and let the air deliver me into the ocean. But as I fell into the murky sea, I found myself further trapped in the abyss.

I am weak. My knowledge grants no power. Nothing can come from my fingers, or be conjured by my will. I have no blade, no bow, no instrument with which I can defend myself. I have no armor, no blessing, no protection. No hope. I am a mortal in a land of gods and beasts. I am futile. I am nothing.

2. The Caves Of Ghölt

The caves were narrow and jagged. The horde traversed them with ease, crawling and bounding as they chased me. Their snarls bounced against the rocks and filled my tired body with dread. They lunged at me with speed, saliva running wild from their mouths; they longed for my flesh as I longed for asylum. My feet cut on stones and skulls as I searched for an exit to the dark labyrinth. In my effort, I found myself deeper in the cavern. My run became a jog, and my jog a crawl as the ceiling came down on me. I was flat in a wet tunnel; my scent was still present, but the beasts couldn't reach me. I counted myself lucky as I caught my breath and went further into the dark.

My mind told me that something was there, watching. Its shape was lost in the shadows, but I knew it was to be feared. It stood there, waiting to see what I would do. But I did nothing, so it did nothing. And it did nothing, so I did the same, waiting for a sudden move or telling sound. But nothing moved, except the draft coming from within the cave, and nothing was heard except the great beating of my heart. 

I found an orb in the depths. It glowed fierce, providing comfort in the overwhelming darkness. I made my way down, climbing safely thanks to its light. With it, I could see all the cave’s secrets. Creatures hung and crawled all around me, small and passive. They moved about in their own way, not seeming to have any purpose, though as a collective they went away from the shining sphere. I came to the bottom of the cavern and reached out to it. Up close it was large and glossy, akin to a beautiful pearl. The one glimpse of beauty I had seen in this nether world. I reached out, infatuated. But before my hands could touch it, the heat of it began to burn my skin. I drew back quickly, not wanting to test whatever power was held inside.

I stared down at the pit, which ran deep and sat wide. I stood at its edge, wishing I knew how far it truly went. I could only see so much before it disappeared into the void. I took a stone and tossed it down. I never heard it land. I shouted into it and listened to the echo. My voice disappeared, never coming back to me. Curiosity kept me planted at the edge. So I looked down into the abyss, pondering what the emptiness could hold. And then, a light opened slowly at the bottom, unveiled by some thick cover. I squinted, trying to see what had revealed itself. Just as soon as I bent myself to look, I jumped back in realization. It was an eye. The eye of something sinister, something massive, which I had awoken from a deep sleep. I couldn't see all of it, but it could see me. It would follow me. It would remember me.

3. Bel-Noctis

His frame was massive and imposing. He stood so that the light in the chamber was completely blocked out, casting a large shadow over my thin figure. He spoke with a deep rasp and told of dormant evils and awful beasts. He said that my head was valuable, and that within me was power. I understood too well what he meant. He fed me chunks of charred meat and told me I would do well to stay near him. As he fed me, like a stray dog, I would have done anything he commanded.

On his head sat a dark gold crown, which had many points, twists, and ridges. Across his armor were a variety of jewels. Rubies and diamonds, amethyst and sapphire, emerald and topaz, all welded onto the black metal, to distract and impress. Alongside the gems were fragments of bone, of various shapes and sizes. They were taken from notable beasts he had slain in his long life. There were horns, tails, ears, and pieces of skull. His chestplate was brimming with history and accomplishment. It was mesmerizing, so much so that as he drew a black blade from his hip, I barely noticed the whistle of the air as he unsheathed it, and the dark energy that emanated as it set its sights on my neck.

In the center of the chamber was an altar. On it, a small creature was trapped in a glass case. Her delicate wings fluttered as she hovered in the air, and her body radiated with purity. The Bel-Noctis drew near her, devious intentions filling his mind. I knew this ritual. Those well versed in arcane matters could take the very soul of others, and use it to strengthen their own. The practice was demonic and fatal for the being that was used. So as the fairy's aura was ripped from her, I cried out to the dark warrior, pleading for it to stop. He tossed me back with his brutish hands. I hit the wall like I was an insect, miniscule in every sense. 

I watched helplessly as the fairy was robbed of its energy. The color drained from her skin, and the light faded from her eyes. Everything fragile and beautiful about her disappeared, like the moon banishing the sun from the sky. First it took magic, then moisture, and lastly color. The creature became a husk, devoid of all humanity. She fell to the bottom of her enclosure, a grey raisin turning into dust. As the Bel-Noctis finished stealing her soul, he let out a heavy breath and enjoyed new strength. Something in me turned over and convulsed before I fell to my knees, sick with guilt and disgust.

I thought I was saved. I thought that I had found another man, one who would save me from the wickedness surrounding me. But that same evil lived within him. He was not human, he only had the body of one, and he was no savior, for he had within him the heart of a monster. I dashed to the chamber's entrance, my heart thumping, pounding as I burst through the doors and ran down the stairs. I tripped halfway down, tumbling the rest of the way in a ball of panic. At the top of the flight he loomed, his blade drawn. He commanded me to leave before he ripped me apart with his blade. I heeded his warning well, having learned to respect those powers greater than me, and count no one as a friend in this wretched land.

4. Decalossus

It came forward from the fog, growling and bellowing, though it didn't want to communicate. Its tentacles were heavy and slow; they slithered along the ground, surrounding me. The Decalossus is a myth in a land of lies, an unbelievable being in a world where reality is undefined. But here it was, in the water, reaching out to me. I almost felt honored. But then I peered into the bog, and made sense of the moving shapes in the water. They were all it, thousands of appendages, all tied back to one amorphous blob sitting at the bottom of the worlds trenches. 

The lake is far from the rest of the land. After I fell, I ran for days. Whatever corner of hell I'm in, it’s desolate. Empty. I need to find the end of this nightmare before I'm consumed by it. But I've only found myself deeper consumed by horrors and corrupt visions. Maybe I'm hopeless. Maybe I deserve this. Only time will tell what fate this realm holds for me. 

Its tendrils were thick and fleshy, flush with water and mucus. It's skin moved up and down, as if breathing. It dripped with water, sludge, and everything else the bottomless lake held. The sight of them sent conflicting chills through me. As it's slimy arms drew near, I writhed with discomfort.

The murky green waters did not tell me much, but my mind told all. I could almost feel its arms reach up, starting deeper than what can be imagined and rising through the darkness. Its impossible length struck my heart with terror. If it wanted to, the Decalossus could crush mountains and split rivers. I stared down into the lake and felt small. Nothing I ever did, I ever could think to do, would compare to its existential stature.

The fog was dense and heavy. I could feel the moisture collecting on my skin, reminding me that in this nightmare land, I'm still mortal. Still human.

It wanted me not for my curse, but for other knowledge. The knowledge of it. As its massive tentacles towered over me, I knew it was real. The depths were its home, but in truth, it lived in obscurity. It existed in the back of minds, and beyond comprehension. For it, this life was perfect. This life was necessary. As I bore witness to its great arms, my grand knowledge mattered not. I would die like oh so many other wretched souls, whose bloated corpses lived at the bottom of the swamp.

5. The Witches Of Vry

I knew all their names. Their faces. Their past. But their titles were too old to speak, and their history too vulgar to stomach. Though, even in all their darkness they... were ravishing. Their eyes shined like the moon, its power resonating deep within them. Their dark complexion and black make up filled me with fear and desire. They drew near with their instruments of torture, their grace shinning through the thin fog around us. I was bound by my wrists and ankles, and dragged back to their lair. As much as I'd have liked to, I didn't resist. Every second since, I wish that I had.

My mind flashed with images of squirming bodies and severed limbs. Many had been trapped on this table before, and had the contents of their mind forced out of them. The witches and I were one and the same. Our knowledge of this world was immense, and it was a power we used well. But now they've come for me. Turned on me. There is no compassion in this world. No sympathy, no alliance, not even among the like-minded. I'm sure they'd rip each other apart if they didn't draw strength from one another.

The pain touched every inch of me, sharp and burning as it sat on my skin. Every second was another slow eternity in hell. I lay there, my chest gaping. My innards were ripped, twisted and squeezed. My blood soaked their hands and ran down their arms, staining their hazel skin. As they forced screams of agony from my mouth, they giggled. Giggled. I was dying, full of fear, and they were laughing. It was sickening. It was enraging.

What I shouted were secrets. Elder and demented. They plucked at my soul and forced them from my mind. It lasted for hours, my mouth spilling all that was hidden and ancient. I cried a thousand tears as they fed off the horrors of my psyche 

Their blood dripped from my hands, as theirs did mine. The ax was great and heavy, but it proved useful. As I swung I felt crazed and satisfied. Their bodies fell with a dull thud, and their heads rolled across the ground with a certain humour. I was quick to gather myself, having little remorse for my captors. I made my way out of their hut, and stumbled naked into the woods of Vry, delighted with my newfound triumph.

6. The Gate

The portal was massive, and limitless. It burned great, as if the light of every star in the sky was bound by this frame. My eyes were full of its features, and my mind was full of possibilities. I had a taste of how vast the universe truly was, and my soul longed for more. I thought of my dull reality, my boring life. Every taxing morning and slow afternoon. I didn't want it back. I didn't miss it. Why would I? 

Comfort and safety mean nothing. They do not offer anything. They do not make life. To live is to be in peril. Nothing I've ever done has mattered, not until now. Here I am wanted. Everything I do and say matters. Every act is important, done in the name of discovery and survival. I am special. I am a target. I am valued. 

I had faced great evil and lived. I've traveled this dark world and come out victorious. No threats have bested me, no cage can hold me. I am unbound and uncontested. I am great. This is my realm, this is my kingdom. With my luck and my knowledge, I will become a God.

Something calls me from the other side. It's a name I haven't heard in ages, from a voice I barely recognize. It was a different man that loved her. A man who couldn't have known who he was or how important he would be. How powerful. She wants me back. So do the other faces I left behind. But I didn't even love her enough to remember her name. 

To the ignorant I must seem mad. To the wise I am a messiah. I've finally found purpose. In this land of madness I stand here alive. Throughout the countless encounters I've been granted the reward of survival, while thousands of others have fallen under the weight of expectation. This land cannot phase me. It cannot hurt me. Here I can be the master, under the thumb of no one. 

I turn my back to the gate. Whatever lies behind it is insignificant. This realm is where I belong. This hell is my haven. I return to the shadows, enlightened and complete. I'll never walk in fear again, because now I know better. This nightmare is where I belong. This nightmare is where I belong.