Tears of Heaven – Orianna Èirigh – 27.07.2023

OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA

I have waited long enough. If my encounter with Magdara has taught me one thing it is that I am being Seen and I am Known in a way where others appear to understand better than myself. I will not let this be so. Mister was the first and last to use me. No one else will do so ever again.

Father, Dad, if you are in Harnash, please wait for me. I am coming…



Replies from all, though I did not expect it, except for Henri. Will he come? I think so. Gerhard seems to think so too.

I am most cautious about what motivates him. There is still much about Henri I do not yet understand — and maybe never will. He is so different from me, so different from Gerhard. From before, it seemed like Henri’s motivations were for himself, for ‘something more’. But that led somewhere dangerous, all of which he remembers now.

But will Henri fall into the same pattern? Is what he seeks in this something to prove himself? To gain power? To earn approval or be seen as capable?

Might need to keep a keen eye on him, if he comes…



Lucky and Zari remind me of my own fathers. Zari, of course being like my dad, with Lucky being like my father. I was truly honoured to be told the secret they keep, of Zari’s true self. Even more so now that Lucky has told me Phystal, the First Slime, had imprisoned Zari in an attempt to find some lost secret or treasure. Apparently Zari was given something by one of the Nine Archwyrms — Kestrasz, the Tungsten Dragon. As of yet, he knows not what it is, but Lucky says he may know where Kestrasz can be found.

Catching Beets up on everything — excluding the more personal details of Calla’s connections, just as I had done with Lucky (it is not my place to say such personal matters to people whom Calla has not met or barely knows, nor does it instil any form of trust) — was monotonous though necessary. The beetle fairy seems to be unsure of many things and I was worried telling her too much might become overbearing. I hope she will be alright on this journey.

I was relieved when Calla and Henri arrived together. Each seemed eager to depart so I gave them a more succinct reason and history for my summoning them — including the prophecy the Platinum Lord had told me — and then we made haste toward Portal Plaza…


“You’re looking well, Calla. Keeping busy…?”

Henri’s voice faded into the background as Orianna began her ritual. None of the buff orcs, tabaxi, or centaurs seem to care that she is performing a divination ritual off to the side of one of the main thoroughfares but she wasn’t about to waste time looking for a quieter place. Yes they were under a hill, yes it was the middle of the day, but she had done much the same before in A-

Elsewhere.

Laying out small sticks of incense in a perfect half circle, Orianna places the two crystals from Grougaloragran she has kept despite their magic being spent, into the dirt on opposite sides of the forty-five degree angles away from her. Then, with deliberate care, she places her Star Cradle at the point between her knees, creating the perfect pyramid triangle. With its crescent shaped crystal beginning to glow, she begins to mutter under her breath, naming all the stars and constellations, in all their various names through the ages, in all the tongues she has mastered. She repeats them until they become a syncopated rhythm. Valethra curls around her neck, humming in a mewling purr that sounds like a ringing crystal. Ten minutes pass and all other sounds fade away.

Where do we go to find the next piece of the puzzle…?

All is quiet. She is far, far away. She is weightless in a vast void of darkness, lit by nebulas and stars, bursts of warmth and comfort in an endless unknown.

“Head to Vnees, then north into the desert…”

She breathes in sudden and sharp, the weight of her body complete and unfamiliar. Valethra jumps down from her shoulder as Orianna takes the time to acquaint herself with the length of her fingers, the reach of her limbs, and the strength of her legs as she gathers her things and stands.

“Well? Do we know where we are going?” Henri asks her.

Orianna nods. “We fly east, and then walk north into the desert…”



I have seen the Scorching Badlands a handful of times since moving to Daring Heights. Many trips to the desert metropolis of Kundar meant I skirted around its western edge, seeing it from a perspective I had not had before. But it was gazing at its vastness as we descended the lift system from Vvierkh to Vnees that true homesickness struck me.

How can I be homesick for a place I cannot remember?

Perhaps it was the breakneck speeds by which we flew that caused such feelings to affect me more easily. Or my own longing to see my fathers after these ten long years. Or even the fear of not being able to find them. Or perhaps a combination of it all. Either way, the heat of the sun quickly dried what little water I spared even as Valethra stayed close to me and slept in my arms…



At Orianna’s suggestion, the group rested for the hottest part of the afternoon, gathering their strength, ensuring their waterskins were filled, and bundling up for the steep drop in temperatures that would happen once night fell.

Her brief but potent hesitancy when they first arrived in Tecorvum was nowhere to be seen. This was her land, the place of her peoples, even if she could not remember them all by name or face. The desert was her home and always would be, probably. It gave her the confidence to lead Lucky, Calla, Henri and Beets into the vast sand dunes, and also fueled the spell she cast once they were a mile out from Vnees.

Once again Orianna placed the two crystals of Grougaloragran into the earth, before tucking her fiendish legs underneath her thighs to then rest her behind on her cloven feet. Except the spell she was casting this time was not one that would divine from the heavens but would instead commune with the earth.

“O cradle wrapped in the embrace of the Cosmos…”

Orianna begins to drag the crystal top of her staff across the sand in a large, arching circle all around her.

“…earthen form of pillars and strength that holds us…”

The circle gets deeper and deeper as she continues around and around and around.

“…keeping us here, tethering us to root and stone…”

A trail of fire starts to follow in the wake of the crystal as it is dragged across the sand.

“…before joining the Night Mother’s embrace…”

Orianna has her eyes closed but she sees the ring of fire threefold in her mind even as she feels the heat around her in the cooling air. She breathes in deep the smell of smoke and sand.

“…tell me… do the borders between Realms hold true?”

As she asks the first question the outermost ring bursts outwards and she feels herself go with it. Within three miles Orianna does not sense any influences from other planes of existence. She takes another deep breath.

“…Tell me… are there powerful Realm-Touched beings within my sight?”

The second ring explodes out in a wave of radiant fire. As it passes north-north-west of where she and her friends are, some of that light catches on a figure and then half a mile further out, it touches another, one made of the elements. To her friend’s Orianna’s face remains calm and serene but internally she frowns in concern, worrying at her lip. She takes a final, deep breath.

“Tell me… are there people, plants, animals, or elsewise kin that are prevalent?”

The final ring bursts outwards and the first of the two begins gets another illumination of radiant fire catching on it. Then the spell ends.

As she opens her eyes the others are looking at her. Orianna gathers the two crystals, using her staff to help herself get up, and steps out of the circle of glass that has formed from her spell. She tells them what she learned.

“Before we depart, perhaps some poetry to help bolster us,” Lucky offers.

Some of the worry eases from Orianna’s brow as Lucky recites the draconic verse. She does not know how he always manages to always pick the right piece, but as Lucky’s expertly lyrical, smooth, gravelly baritone voice carries them forward the young tiefling commits every word to memory…






“Perhaps we don’t rush into the mysterious cave covered in ice crystals, hmm?” Henri says, holding out a hand to block Orianna from doing exactly that. The look she gives him would have withered the heartiest of plants but Henri did not seem deterred, instead he put himself more in the way.

“The Primordial Incarnates that we have been at odds with have been from the Paraelemental Planes. We’ve met maga and ooze. We have heard of smoke. That leaves ice.” He looks pointedly at the icicles covering the simple stone entranceway.

Some part of her knew Henri was right but at this moment she did not care. Someone was down there struggling to breathe. It could be her parents, and Orianna was not going to debate the possibility of danger to herself when they — or someone else — already was.

“Fine. Noted,” Orianna said, before stepping past him to run inside.

Protected from the elements, the stonework inside showed what the entrance did not; this place is beautifully adorned with all sorts of illustrations, frescoes, and carvings. But Orianna sees none of it. She moves swiftly into the dark, down the stone steps that start immediately after the entrance, the others close behind.

All too soon they come into a room that is no larger than thirty feet across and wide. It is even darker down here, so only those of them with the ability to see in such conditions — everyone, except Henri — notices the very large dragon with its wings spread wide, and long graceful neck holding up their elegantly horned head gazing down into the centre of the room. Behind its head is a four pointed star, cradled by what appears to be a crescent moon, shining with light. Across its entire body and on its wings are an infinite number of carved stars, full of constellations both familiar and foreign to her. The age of this place is probably lost to time but her quick academic guess would be it is older than most civilizations.

Other than the dragon, in the centre of the room is a beautifully carved pedestal with many and various types of dragons swirling around it. The top is elegantly carved… but something is missing. A piece, clear as day, that is obviously meant to sit there. It is upon seeing this that they all notice how it feels like the whole room is being embraced by this dragon.

But none of that matters to Orianna as her gaze comes to rest upon the fiendish looking man slumped up against the wall, clutching at an ice covered stab wound to their stomach.

“FATHER!” Orianna screams…



It was him! Barely alive, struggling to breathe, frozen to the wall and one foot in the River. But he was there! After all this time, all these years…



Orianna pours healing light into her palms as she puts her hands onto Rimmon. Her father is here! But why? Where is dad? What happened here and how long has her father been like this?

Please do not die on me!

Her healing magic pours into her father but he does not wake up. Orianna’s heart squeezes and panic rises anew. There is ice all over his body, making his royal blue skin look darker than it should. Without thinking, she tears open her pack and pulls out a book, one she has carried with her since Ash- since before. Orianna flips it open and starts tearing pages out, creating a pile that she lights with a simple druidcraft. But it is not enough. The ice is not staying melted, it just keeps coming back. She’s about to scream for help but Calla is already there beside her.

“I’ve got something- I just- Nnngh!” Calla tries to pull at the lock on a book but it doesn’t budge. “I just need to get into this-”

The eladrin pulls out a pouch of small tools, ones Orianna does not recognise but can guess their purpose. The tiefling reaches out a hand and rests it on Calla’s shoulder.

“Help me save him, Calla,” she says. Her eyes shine brighter as magic moves from Orianna’s hand to Calla’s person. The other woman nods, deftly whips out the tools and goes to work. In no sooner than six seconds the lock snaps open and there’s an exclamation of delighted surprise from Calla.

Orianna has turned back to look at father, ripping out page after page to keep the fire lit, to keep him with her. It is a face she recognises… and yet there is an unfamiliar story written over every curve and line. For a moment she is scared that this may be their last moments and she is burning books to keep him alive when all she wants is to know what happened to him and dad.

She turns to her friend. “Calla?” Her friend’s name is laced with panic.

“I got it!”

With Calla’s help, they melt the ice away. Then, as Calla flips through the unlocked book, she touches Rimmon’s chest and a wave of amethyst energy passes over him. The ice clinging to his skin and filling the stab wound turns to crystals then shatters, becoming a fine mist of water. There’s a moment of brief relief before Rimmon lurches forward…



I don’t know how long I cried. Henri saw it all but I don’t care.

I wish Gerhard had been there with me.

I wish I had come sooner.

“If wishes were fishes the desert would be an ocean.”

My father told us what had happened. Abrax, the First Frost (one of the Paraelemental Incarnates) kidnapped my dad and stole the crystal foci — one of the pieces of nine. It was extremely dangerous that he had it (of which I had no doubt) but before I could even breathe a word of following them, father said we had to speak to the stars…



“She is coming.”

They all turned to look up into the clear night’s sky. It began to move, stars flitting from one point to another, moving and shifting, coalescing into a familiar shape.

“My daughter. I do not have the energy to talk to her. Are you ready?”

Orianna looks to her father. Though he is exhausted and injured, Rimmon’s gaze pierces through her with all the resolve that a Deputy Archivist of the Grand Archive would have. She is thrown back to a time she cannot remember, when she was but a child, only to slide back to the present, the weight of responsibility resting on her shoulders.

She nods…



Her voice is not loud or booming. It is gentle, gracious, the voice of a mother.

It is a voice Orianna has heard many times before.

“You have summoned me, my heralds, and I have come. What is it you require of me?”


On unsteady legs, Orianna steps forward. “The First Frost has taken your crystal foci.”

“This is very bad news, Orianna.” The tiefling winces. Stellarum continues, “The foci must be returned.”

“Then we will go get it?” Orianna looks at her friends. They all nod.

“I sense the foci is no longer on this plane.”

She was too late. If only she had not been scared, hesitant, or unsure she could have prevented this.

“I’m sorry.” The words aren’t enough, but they are all she has. The feeling of failure hits her hard.

“You do not need to be sorry, my child. You were where you needed to be at the time you needed to be there.”

Orianna did not know how to take that.

“The First Frost isn’t working alone,” she says, trying to push back her inner doubts. “There are others, Incarnates of the Paraelemental Planes. They seek that which would be better off left alone.”

Stellarum closes her eyes, dipping her head forward in elegant sorrow. “I feared this day might come…” Her head rises again as she looks down at Orianna. “How much of the story do you know, my daughter?”

“Decent parts of it, I think. Although…” She glances towards Henri. “I do not know if we know exactly what they are after…”

“The Primordial Behemoths are what they’re called,” Henri says, promptly, as if he was just waiting to give the right answer.

Stellarum nods. “The Behemoths were their original forms, created in the Dawn War, and were their greatest weapon, nigh unkillable so long as the elemental planes existed. That was why the World Dragon created us, The Nine — Archwyrms, to fight the Behemoths — and we did, for a long time… until we collected enough power to banish them beyond everything.” She pauses. “But we knew that would not be enough. They would eventually reform on their Plane. So we built four locks.”

She spread her wings wider and the stars within help illustrate her next words. “These locks are conduits that spread the energy that creates the Behemoths evenly across the Elemental Planes. However, in doing this the Incarnates were born — smaller, less powerful versions of their Behemoth predecessors. The locks have keys, which we split amongst the nine of us.” The stars swirl and the images dissolve into nebulas. “If the Incarnates get all four keys they could open the locks and the Behemoths would, in time, reform.”

“Then everything would be… undone.”

Stellarum nods. “It would be chaos once again…”



We spoke for… I do not know how long. I will do my best to summarise what was discussed.

4 of the Archwyms are awake

• Stellarum Tenebris (The Starlight Dragon, Star Mother, Night Keeper, Wyrm Queen)
• Thodrazz (The Garnet Dragon, The Gemstone Prophet, The Great Seer); met Henri under the moniker Thromdax; to call upon him is simple, need a garnet
• Azharul (The Morion Dragon, Judge of the Dead, Guardian of Souls); servant of Kelemvor
• Kestraz (The Tungsten Dragon, The Hammer of Justice, The Righteous Dragon); servant of Bahamut

Advised to leave the other 5 Archwyrms to slumber in peace.

• Archwyrms cannot/do not fight each other

Elemental Planes Primordial Incarnates:

• The First Mountain; Calla’s patron; was cast out of their Elemental Plane (By whom?) and has not recovered yet
• Astaros, the First Flame; located in the City of Brass
• Incarnate of Air?
• Incarnate of Water?

Paraelemental Primordial Incarnates:

• Abrax, the First Frost; located in the Frostfell
• Magdara, the First Eruption, located in the Fountains of Creation
• Phystal, the First Ooze, located in the Swamp of Oblivion
• Glastor, the First Smoke, been seen in the Court of Sorcery often

• The Court of Sorcery has secrets, and old spells/magic → “find the Lady in the Well”
• Incarnates of the Paraelemental Planes are the ones most likely to create an upstart, most likely to become the new Behemoths if they get to the bodies and attune to the energy of the Elemental Planes; Will use the Staircase to achieve this if possible.
• If they do, all other Primordial Incarnates will merge with the new Behemoths → cease to be as individuals/eight separate beings
• The locks were created and are located in Paraelemental Planes.
• Incarnates seem to hate the Archwyrms for the past; Stellarum watched over them all for a time (Why? As a guide? To keep an eye on them? Because of guilt?)
• The locks and keys are divine in nature, thus not easy to destroy
• 4 keys, split into 8 parts, with Stellarum’s crystal foci being the ninth piece; cannot activate the crystal foci without the other pieces
• Each of the Archwyrms hid their piece somewhere secret
• Dad is still alive, most likely in the Frostfell → through Dad they will activate the crystal foci
• Tamworth, my great-great-great-grandfather, was killed by an amethyst dragon, who was not an Archwyrm…

“We will find the keys, I promise,” Orianna says.

Stellarum gazes down at her, consideringly. “Before you do. You will need something. I gifted my descendants with a staff. My Star Cradle.” Orianna’s violet eyes go wide. “Mine is lost beneath these sands. Find it.”

“It’s not in... A-” She winces.

“No. Not there. But it is… close. Within what used to be my temple. It will return my heralds to their proper power. Too long has my line not held its rightful place.”

Proper place? What could that be…

“How can I call upon you? What if I need you?” Orianna was starting to feel the panic of uncertainty rising within her chest

“You will not,” Stellarum says not unkindly. “The time of the Archwyrms is long past. It is the time of you mortals and heroes. You have all the power you need.”

Perhaps she sensed Orianna’s doubt, not in her friends but in herself. Though she did not come closer, Orianna felt the stars tip towards her as if bowing their heads in supplication. “Know this, daughter: if you ever need me, all you need do is reach out.”

With her eyes glowing as bright as any of the stars in the great Star Mother’s wings, Orianna nods.

Stellarum swept her gaze across the rest of them. “It would be unkind of me to let you walk away from here. Allow me to take you back where you hail from.”

Her wings descend down and it would be frightening if not for the fact that it felt so familiar to Orianna. She remembers the prayer her dad taught her from an early age and repeats it now, closing her eyes as she holds on close to Valethra and her father.

O my Mother, stretch Yourself over me, that I may be placed among the imperishable stars which are in You, and that I may not die…



The Star Mother left us a gift — or possibly more of a guide. I have been studying it since the others left, memorising the symbols, their placement and who we know of so far.

From R to L, clockwise from the top:

Four pointed star cradled in a crescent moon	Stellarum Tenebris, The Starlight Dragon
Seven pointed star surrounded by a blue flame	unknown
Erupting volcano surrounded by black smoke	unknown
A dragon’s eye made of garnet	Thodrazz, The Garnet Dragon
A brilliant burst of iridescent light	unknown
Gunmetal grey hammer with scales	Kestrasz, The Tunsten Dragon
A dragon egg enveloped in a pearl bubble	unknown
Small copse of trees, vibrant and green	unknown
A dragon skull made of black stone	Azharul, The Morion Dragon

In the centre is a multi-coloured orb. Before they left, Calla and Henri said it represents Azgorath, the Ninefold Dragon, creator of dragons, possibly even the universe…



Continued in ‘The Stars Cross Paths’ & ‘Ten Years Is A Long Time’ 💫