Lead and I Shall Follow – Orianna Èirigh – 4.07.2023
Jul 7, 2023 19:59:21 GMT
Velania Kalugina, Andy D, and 4 more like this
Post by Orianna Èirigh on Jul 7, 2023 19:59:21 GMT
OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA
When I awoke this morning the Cosmos gave me an omen of Woe.
On any given day that could mean any number of things. But something was about this day. Gerhard’s continued absence. Henri’s knock on the door. A request of help from the Stewards of the Staircase. I knew the optimism of Spring would not last into Summer. I had only hoped it would not end so soon…
Two new Infinite — Pantos (The Navigator), Henri’s Steward; and Azmodan (The Scriber); brothers of ‘The Gentleman’ — spoke of an open portal similar to the one I helped Henri close outside the City of Brass. Not only that, but Andromeda has been kidnapped, or gone missing. They were unclear.
I did not wish to believe that the Infinite who helped Gerhard find me would so easily betray the delicate balance the Staircase has by creating a portal that was already destabilising the Spheres. But as Azmodan pointed out, with the return of her father there is some doubt.
Could he be tied to this? He has not shown himself. But the possibility is one to keep open…
Calla was with us and from her last letter to me I knew she had already walked the Staircase once before without a Call. I was not going to let these Infinite trick her or any of the others into walking it without addressing that.
To my great surprise, and to Henri’s as well, there is a way for us to walk the Staircase without being corrupted by its alluring temptation. ‘All it takes is Will,’ and a thread from Henri’s scarf and we were able to travel.
Why did Gerhard not speak of this to me before?…
Heart still pounding, Orianna was glad to step off the Staircase and into the darkest, gloomiest forest she had ever been in. It took them all a moment to gather themselves. Henri was practically alight with fire in his grey eyes. Calla was pragmatic but full of wonder. Digs, ever nervous, was whipping his head back and forth, trying to assess if there were any encroaching enemies nearby whilst Robin’s mismatched gaze swept left and right all around them. Copernicus had wandered off but stayed within their sight though that was not very far in the dampening mist, whilst Lilia’s pale gaze scrutinised the ground in meticulous fashion. Orianna, meanwhile, was assessing what Plane they could be on. Dark and gloomy, forests dense and haunting, mists that dampened with the metal of her breastplate already starting to rust on the edges.
“We have come to Niflheim,” she informed the others. “We should be fine, so long as no dire wolves or dire trolls come this way…”
Her gaze found the distant red smudge of Copernicus’s back and willed him to not wander too far. Either he heard her or knew enough to not tempt it, but he was already slowly making his way back.
“Here.” Lilia’s soft voice draws all of their attention. “There is a silvery, viscous fluid…”
Copernicus walks back faster.
Calla gathers it in a vial that Lilia holds out as Orianna steps forward.
“May I?” she asks, holding a hand out for the corked vial. Calla gives her a discerning look. “I do not wish to keep it. I wish to use it to divine where we may find Andromeda.”
Copernicus comes up to their little group and sees the vial. His sharp intake of breath only confirms what she suspected.
“Her blood will help get us to her quicker.”
Her only hope was they would not be too late…
Having Copernicus help in the ritual anchored one side of it, our starting point. I had never used blood before in a divining ritual and Andromeda’s is unique in as many ways as an Infinite of the Staircase can be. It could explain why the answer came so clearly to the question I asked: What can be done to help free her from her captors?
At the time, I did not know what I do now. The voice that answered, the one I have come to associate with the Cosmos itself, was like a mother’s. It simply said “Seek the Fountains of Creation…”
Copernicus knew exactly where that was. Where the Plane of Fire meets the Plane of Earth.
The last time Henri, Calla, and I heard mention of a Primordial Incarnate of fire and earth was by another such being named Asteros, the First Flame, in the City of Brass. They spoke of a cousin, Magdara, the First Eruption. She had sought the rift Mister had allegedly left behind, but we had closed it.
This new rift was her latest attempt to get to wherever it is she wants to go…
The still beating heart is squeezed by the molten grip of Magdara’s hand as Copernicus roars in anger. The pit fiend charges, the rest of them stand back, uncertain of what to do or if this is the start of a battle Orianna is not sure they can win. She knows a fight is coming — all such things as this always lead to one place, conflict. But she wanted answers. What? Why? How?
Just as Copernicus raises his arm up, a mighty arch that would fell any of them in one decisive swipe, Magdara twists her fingers and he freezes mid stride. Instead of toppling forward however it’s as if he has been gripped by a spell. The primordial grins, swings her arm to the side, and Copernicus goes flying. The concussive sound of him hitting the wall sends a shock wave of lava and stone down the wall as he begins to meld into it. Before any of them can think of reacting, all that’s left above the surface is his angry, raging face.
“Now, who’s next? Ah, how about you?”
Orianna did not even see Digs move forward. It was the blue kobold’s turn to be frozen, but instead of throwing him to the side, Magdara lifted him off the ground, ember eyes burning with amusement.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Thinking you could get a better vantage point? Tricksome little thing.” She turned her attention to the rest of them, smile growing wider. “Well? Anyone else going to try something?”
They all stood there, frozen.
“What are you trying to do?”
The question burst past her fear in a voice hesitant and shaking. Orianna had not intended to be the one to speak the words were already in the air.
One stone brow arches up. “Open a portal of course,” Magdara says as if explaining things to a simpleton.
That annoyed her and made Orianna stand up straighter. “But to where? And why do you need the heart of an Infinite to open it?”
“Where I want to go is somewhere beyond the far reaches. I wish to get to beings who were banished a long long time ago.”
A new form of panic was rising within her. Beings from beyond the Spheres? Outside of the Cosmos? Those who would seek to consume or destroy?
“Why? Such beings are dangerous. They are not meant to be here. They would see the Spheres crash, collapse! They would destroy everything.”
Magdara laughs low in her throat. “I want something of them. They are long dead, but what they have will help me and my cousins ascend.”
“Ascend?” she asks.
“Into our greater forms,” Magdara says.
Her mind was reeling. What sort of beings could help a Primordial ascend? Why risk the Balance of everything for such a thing?
Orianna looks to the others, to Henri, seeking some kind of anchor to ground herself to or someone to step up beside her and say something, anything. Instead she is given looks of apprehension, fear, uncertainty, and confusion, all from people very clearly out of their depth. They are speaking to a being that is a force of nature, the embodiment of every erupting volcano and if they are not careful they will become ash and dust in a matter of seconds.
“Oh, you’re all so boring. Come closer. Let me get a look at you.”
She was looking at Henri, trying to get his attention when Orianna felt her whole body stiffen. Then she was being dragged forward by some invisible force, stopping in a lineup with Digs on her left and everyone else on her right.
“There. Much better.”
Magdara smiles…
First there was Mister. Then there was Desathrax. Now, there is Magdara.
Infinite. Dragon. Primordial.
User. Corrupter. Destroyer.
O Great Cosmos, give me strength…
“Hello cousin.”
Orianna saw Calla blanche at the familiarity. This just after the eladrin had asked in a very academic tone if Magdara had heard the name ‘The Cartographer’ in Primordial. The surprises kept on coming and she could not help but wonder again at the Cosmos’ omen of Woe from earlier that day.
“What a shame one so grand has fallen so far,” Magdara continues, speaking not to Calla but to someone else. “Banishment has taken its toll I see. Cut off from your plane of existence would do that to you.”
It was clear Calla was not expecting what was coming by the way her eyes went wide behind the spectacles she wore. At first, it is the sound of tumbling rock, then it is of tectonic plates, and finally two simple but succinct words.
“GET AWAY.”
Magdara merely laughs and steps in front of Orianna.
The Primordial tilts her head to the side, squinting her eyes. Then she hisses.
“How are you here?!” Magdara spits as a molten hand flashes out to grip Orianna’s chin. The burn is dampened a little but that’s not what sends bolts of fear through her spine.
“The line of the Heralds was meant to be broken. How is it these dragons keep coming back?” She leans in close. “The Star Mother must be so proud to have you here.”
“I don’t-”
“Is this what you want, cousin?” Magdara says, cutting her off to look back at Calla, once again speaking to something — the Cartographer — that the eladrin carries. “Our ancient enemies returning to fight us?”
There is no response, from the being inside or from Calla herself.
Slowly, with the steady certainty only magma could have, knowing she cannot run, cannot escape, Magdara wraps her hand around Orianna’s throat.
“I can’t wait to break this line myself.”
Orianna gasps, struggling, trying to pull away, but her grip is like a vice. Her fingers flex, tightening. She cannot breathe. Already off the ground, Orianna begins to feel weightless, like some part of her is flying up as her vision grows dim.
What a waste.
He said those words. Mister. Andromeda’s brother. Now she is here, screaming in her heart and in her mind because she has no voice to scream aloud, calling for help that she isn’t sure will come. This time the suffocation comes not from the endless cold of the void, but the immense heat of magma crushing her throat, in the place where fire and earth collide.
Her vision blurs as tears as the edges begin to darken. Her ears ring with the sound of something clear, like a bell. There’s a flash of silver, quick as the hawk in a desert, and for a moment Orianna wonders if the burning she feels in her lungs is Magdara’s form pouring into her body. Then there is silver mist all around her, cooling, comforting familiar.
A figure, a man, in a long brown coat, hair wild and unkempt, brushing his shoulders, stands in front of her. Hands help her up. She is coughing. She is alive. He’s here, her earth, her anchor, her heart.
Gerhard holds onto her as he turns to look at Henri. “Will you help me close the portal?”
Magdara screams…
We stopped the First Eruption, for now, but she will return. “You cannot kill me in my own realm.” was what she told us. It had weight, like the Primordial Promise Asteros said to me.
What does the Primordial’s Promise mean? Did Asteros know who I was when we met? Do they also seek that which is beyond the Stars to become something more? Do they too wish to ascend? What does this “ascension” mean?
Henri collapsed after Magdara erupted so Calla tried to use Andromeda’s heart to help Gerhard close the portal. Afterwards, when speaking to her again about what the corruption of the Staircase does to someone, I could see she did not truly want to let any of it go. I would be hypocritical if I was against her joining the thing that will probably allow Gerhard and I to stay together for many many years to come. But after Henri’s recklessness nearly destroyed not only his life but Gerhard’s as well, I wanted to make sure Calla knew why she would want to join those who walk the Staircase. She seemed to understand.
After that, we returned to the Prime Material. Henri was upset with his Steward, Pantos. He mentioned feeling abandoned, left alone to grow listless in waiting for the next task. That Magdara was right in calling him “the errand boy”. He can be a petulant child, one who has the entitlement of a King… But at that moment I could not help but wonder if Henri is lonely…
A few pages after this journal entry, Orianna seems to have written a heading and two names with accompanying monikers, and locations underneath. The first she moved from an earlier entry. The second is new, the rough sketch of a captured moment from the fight that ensued upon Gerhard’s arrival.
Continued in ‘You Never Call Any More’ 💫
When I awoke this morning the Cosmos gave me an omen of Woe.
On any given day that could mean any number of things. But something was about this day. Gerhard’s continued absence. Henri’s knock on the door. A request of help from the Stewards of the Staircase. I knew the optimism of Spring would not last into Summer. I had only hoped it would not end so soon…
Two new Infinite — Pantos (The Navigator), Henri’s Steward; and Azmodan (The Scriber); brothers of ‘The Gentleman’ — spoke of an open portal similar to the one I helped Henri close outside the City of Brass. Not only that, but Andromeda has been kidnapped, or gone missing. They were unclear.
I did not wish to believe that the Infinite who helped Gerhard find me would so easily betray the delicate balance the Staircase has by creating a portal that was already destabilising the Spheres. But as Azmodan pointed out, with the return of her father there is some doubt.
Could he be tied to this? He has not shown himself. But the possibility is one to keep open…
Calla was with us and from her last letter to me I knew she had already walked the Staircase once before without a Call. I was not going to let these Infinite trick her or any of the others into walking it without addressing that.
To my great surprise, and to Henri’s as well, there is a way for us to walk the Staircase without being corrupted by its alluring temptation. ‘All it takes is Will,’ and a thread from Henri’s scarf and we were able to travel.
Why did Gerhard not speak of this to me before?…
Heart still pounding, Orianna was glad to step off the Staircase and into the darkest, gloomiest forest she had ever been in. It took them all a moment to gather themselves. Henri was practically alight with fire in his grey eyes. Calla was pragmatic but full of wonder. Digs, ever nervous, was whipping his head back and forth, trying to assess if there were any encroaching enemies nearby whilst Robin’s mismatched gaze swept left and right all around them. Copernicus had wandered off but stayed within their sight though that was not very far in the dampening mist, whilst Lilia’s pale gaze scrutinised the ground in meticulous fashion. Orianna, meanwhile, was assessing what Plane they could be on. Dark and gloomy, forests dense and haunting, mists that dampened with the metal of her breastplate already starting to rust on the edges.
“We have come to Niflheim,” she informed the others. “We should be fine, so long as no dire wolves or dire trolls come this way…”
Her gaze found the distant red smudge of Copernicus’s back and willed him to not wander too far. Either he heard her or knew enough to not tempt it, but he was already slowly making his way back.
“Here.” Lilia’s soft voice draws all of their attention. “There is a silvery, viscous fluid…”
Copernicus walks back faster.
Calla gathers it in a vial that Lilia holds out as Orianna steps forward.
“May I?” she asks, holding a hand out for the corked vial. Calla gives her a discerning look. “I do not wish to keep it. I wish to use it to divine where we may find Andromeda.”
Copernicus comes up to their little group and sees the vial. His sharp intake of breath only confirms what she suspected.
“Her blood will help get us to her quicker.”
Her only hope was they would not be too late…
Having Copernicus help in the ritual anchored one side of it, our starting point. I had never used blood before in a divining ritual and Andromeda’s is unique in as many ways as an Infinite of the Staircase can be. It could explain why the answer came so clearly to the question I asked: What can be done to help free her from her captors?
At the time, I did not know what I do now. The voice that answered, the one I have come to associate with the Cosmos itself, was like a mother’s. It simply said “Seek the Fountains of Creation…”
Copernicus knew exactly where that was. Where the Plane of Fire meets the Plane of Earth.
The last time Henri, Calla, and I heard mention of a Primordial Incarnate of fire and earth was by another such being named Asteros, the First Flame, in the City of Brass. They spoke of a cousin, Magdara, the First Eruption. She had sought the rift Mister had allegedly left behind, but we had closed it.
This new rift was her latest attempt to get to wherever it is she wants to go…
The still beating heart is squeezed by the molten grip of Magdara’s hand as Copernicus roars in anger. The pit fiend charges, the rest of them stand back, uncertain of what to do or if this is the start of a battle Orianna is not sure they can win. She knows a fight is coming — all such things as this always lead to one place, conflict. But she wanted answers. What? Why? How?
Just as Copernicus raises his arm up, a mighty arch that would fell any of them in one decisive swipe, Magdara twists her fingers and he freezes mid stride. Instead of toppling forward however it’s as if he has been gripped by a spell. The primordial grins, swings her arm to the side, and Copernicus goes flying. The concussive sound of him hitting the wall sends a shock wave of lava and stone down the wall as he begins to meld into it. Before any of them can think of reacting, all that’s left above the surface is his angry, raging face.
“Now, who’s next? Ah, how about you?”
Orianna did not even see Digs move forward. It was the blue kobold’s turn to be frozen, but instead of throwing him to the side, Magdara lifted him off the ground, ember eyes burning with amusement.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Thinking you could get a better vantage point? Tricksome little thing.” She turned her attention to the rest of them, smile growing wider. “Well? Anyone else going to try something?”
They all stood there, frozen.
“What are you trying to do?”
The question burst past her fear in a voice hesitant and shaking. Orianna had not intended to be the one to speak the words were already in the air.
One stone brow arches up. “Open a portal of course,” Magdara says as if explaining things to a simpleton.
That annoyed her and made Orianna stand up straighter. “But to where? And why do you need the heart of an Infinite to open it?”
“Where I want to go is somewhere beyond the far reaches. I wish to get to beings who were banished a long long time ago.”
A new form of panic was rising within her. Beings from beyond the Spheres? Outside of the Cosmos? Those who would seek to consume or destroy?
“Why? Such beings are dangerous. They are not meant to be here. They would see the Spheres crash, collapse! They would destroy everything.”
Magdara laughs low in her throat. “I want something of them. They are long dead, but what they have will help me and my cousins ascend.”
“Ascend?” she asks.
“Into our greater forms,” Magdara says.
Her mind was reeling. What sort of beings could help a Primordial ascend? Why risk the Balance of everything for such a thing?
Orianna looks to the others, to Henri, seeking some kind of anchor to ground herself to or someone to step up beside her and say something, anything. Instead she is given looks of apprehension, fear, uncertainty, and confusion, all from people very clearly out of their depth. They are speaking to a being that is a force of nature, the embodiment of every erupting volcano and if they are not careful they will become ash and dust in a matter of seconds.
“Oh, you’re all so boring. Come closer. Let me get a look at you.”
She was looking at Henri, trying to get his attention when Orianna felt her whole body stiffen. Then she was being dragged forward by some invisible force, stopping in a lineup with Digs on her left and everyone else on her right.
“There. Much better.”
Magdara smiles…
First there was Mister. Then there was Desathrax. Now, there is Magdara.
Infinite. Dragon. Primordial.
User. Corrupter. Destroyer.
O Great Cosmos, give me strength…
“Hello cousin.”
Orianna saw Calla blanche at the familiarity. This just after the eladrin had asked in a very academic tone if Magdara had heard the name ‘The Cartographer’ in Primordial. The surprises kept on coming and she could not help but wonder again at the Cosmos’ omen of Woe from earlier that day.
“What a shame one so grand has fallen so far,” Magdara continues, speaking not to Calla but to someone else. “Banishment has taken its toll I see. Cut off from your plane of existence would do that to you.”
It was clear Calla was not expecting what was coming by the way her eyes went wide behind the spectacles she wore. At first, it is the sound of tumbling rock, then it is of tectonic plates, and finally two simple but succinct words.
“GET AWAY.”
Magdara merely laughs and steps in front of Orianna.
The Primordial tilts her head to the side, squinting her eyes. Then she hisses.
“How are you here?!” Magdara spits as a molten hand flashes out to grip Orianna’s chin. The burn is dampened a little but that’s not what sends bolts of fear through her spine.
“The line of the Heralds was meant to be broken. How is it these dragons keep coming back?” She leans in close. “The Star Mother must be so proud to have you here.”
“I don’t-”
“Is this what you want, cousin?” Magdara says, cutting her off to look back at Calla, once again speaking to something — the Cartographer — that the eladrin carries. “Our ancient enemies returning to fight us?”
There is no response, from the being inside or from Calla herself.
Slowly, with the steady certainty only magma could have, knowing she cannot run, cannot escape, Magdara wraps her hand around Orianna’s throat.
“I can’t wait to break this line myself.”
Orianna gasps, struggling, trying to pull away, but her grip is like a vice. Her fingers flex, tightening. She cannot breathe. Already off the ground, Orianna begins to feel weightless, like some part of her is flying up as her vision grows dim.
What a waste.
He said those words. Mister. Andromeda’s brother. Now she is here, screaming in her heart and in her mind because she has no voice to scream aloud, calling for help that she isn’t sure will come. This time the suffocation comes not from the endless cold of the void, but the immense heat of magma crushing her throat, in the place where fire and earth collide.
Her vision blurs as tears as the edges begin to darken. Her ears ring with the sound of something clear, like a bell. There’s a flash of silver, quick as the hawk in a desert, and for a moment Orianna wonders if the burning she feels in her lungs is Magdara’s form pouring into her body. Then there is silver mist all around her, cooling, comforting familiar.
A figure, a man, in a long brown coat, hair wild and unkempt, brushing his shoulders, stands in front of her. Hands help her up. She is coughing. She is alive. He’s here, her earth, her anchor, her heart.
Gerhard holds onto her as he turns to look at Henri. “Will you help me close the portal?”
Magdara screams…
We stopped the First Eruption, for now, but she will return. “You cannot kill me in my own realm.” was what she told us. It had weight, like the Primordial Promise Asteros said to me.
What does the Primordial’s Promise mean? Did Asteros know who I was when we met? Do they also seek that which is beyond the Stars to become something more? Do they too wish to ascend? What does this “ascension” mean?
Henri collapsed after Magdara erupted so Calla tried to use Andromeda’s heart to help Gerhard close the portal. Afterwards, when speaking to her again about what the corruption of the Staircase does to someone, I could see she did not truly want to let any of it go. I would be hypocritical if I was against her joining the thing that will probably allow Gerhard and I to stay together for many many years to come. But after Henri’s recklessness nearly destroyed not only his life but Gerhard’s as well, I wanted to make sure Calla knew why she would want to join those who walk the Staircase. She seemed to understand.
After that, we returned to the Prime Material. Henri was upset with his Steward, Pantos. He mentioned feeling abandoned, left alone to grow listless in waiting for the next task. That Magdara was right in calling him “the errand boy”. He can be a petulant child, one who has the entitlement of a King… But at that moment I could not help but wonder if Henri is lonely…
A few pages after this journal entry, Orianna seems to have written a heading and two names with accompanying monikers, and locations underneath. The first she moved from an earlier entry. The second is new, the rough sketch of a captured moment from the fight that ensued upon Gerhard’s arrival.
Primordial Incarnates
Asteros, the First Flame, City of Brass
Art by Manda [Twitter]
Magdara, the First Eruption, Fountains of Creation
Art by Alexander Mokhov [ArtStation]
Asteros, the First Flame, City of Brass
Art by Manda [Twitter]
Magdara, the First Eruption, Fountains of Creation
Art by Alexander Mokhov [ArtStation]
Continued in ‘You Never Call Any More’ 💫