The Blackbirds stood at the intersection. They discussed the next course of action. They focused on the local magical auras. They examined the mirrors. Cairee looked at the mirror some twenty-five or thirty feet away. Their reflections looked sixty feet away.
Dounia became very aware of the passing time. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out a little razor-sharp steel knife that she used for scoring glass. "Stand back." she demanded.
She unhooked her wrist and moved to the back of the line, past Zahra. Picking the next mirror, she used the knife to quickly score a small square in the glass. She then took the pommel of her dagger and cracked it hard into the square. If she did it right, it would break the glass without shattering the entire mirror. That would at least let them see what the back was made of.
Dounia cut the glass and then cracked it. A tidy squared, about the size of her palm cracked and the fissures halted at her cut lines. It then took a few more moments to pry the glass shards away. Each glass shard had a bit of silver coating on their backs while some of the silver remained attached to a cold iron plate. The entire process took he six calm heartbeats.
Cairee braced herself as Dounia tried to cut the mirror, worried the whole thing would shatter. But her friend skillfully pried a small segment away, leaving the rest intact. "Well done," she said, hoping that was the end of the fascination with the mirrors. "See that reflection down the hall? It looks like a dead end, but I think there is a mirror missing just to the right. It may just lead back to the main room of mirrors. I suggest we try the path to the left first, and if that's a dead end, we try this path leading straight ahead. If that doesn't work we'll go back to the main room and try the exit leading north east."
She started to lead her friends down the left hall.
"See that reflection down the hall? It looks like a dead end, but I think there is a mirror missing just to the right. It may just lead back to the main room of mirrors. I suggest we try the path to the left first, and if that's a dead end, we try this path leading straight ahead. If that doesn't work we'll go back to the main room and try the exit leading north east."
"Yes, no doubt the mirrors are placed to distract so it is wise to explore every path thoroughly and not jump to conclusions from what we think we can see from afar." Tymythy took one last look at the mirror Dounia had broken, hefting his usrief thoughtfully, then followed along.
Between one and two hundred feet down the left passage the path split. A quick look down this new side passage showed it continued for thirty or forty feet before veering right.
The team noted the new passage and moved on. The path continued to wind and wander hitting several sharp turns before coming to a room where the mirrors seemed to radiate from a central point.
As Cairee and Zahra came near the room Cairee could feel magical energy radiating from the room and Zahra could see a blur of unclear auras.
Knowing that they were getting scored on "keeping their eyes open", Dounia risked a quick glance into the room. She hoped that it wouldn't be too much.
”That seems special,” Tymythy remarked when it became apparent the zigzagging corridor was opening up into a room. Things had been too quiet for comfort after the initial assault of strange sights, enough to start making Tymythy jumping at shadows... or rather, the infinite reflections one couldn’t entirely avoid, with mirrors covering every surface but the floor beneath their feet.
”How do you want to proceed?” he asked, trusting for those far better versed in magic to make the calls of judgement here.
None of the mirrors reflected the team back.
Instead, Dounia could see the inside of a humble house. By the spirits and strange things of this world, it was so familiar The plaster cracked over strawbale walls. The centre of the room had a great rug with a large empty food platter. Seat cushions surrounded it.
There were well tended plants about the room including meter tall orange flowers in vases. Dounia could smell them. Aigul flowers And the smell made her feel like her mind was miles away. So familiar. Her memory stretched, ached to recall where she smelled it last.
A woman appeared in some of the mirrors as she entered the humble house and walked across the room. She was holding the hand of a small girl, maybe three to five years old. Dounia's hand went warm with the thought of it. Everything about the woman felt safe and warm and important.
The woman knelt down and looked at the little girl face-to-face. Her warm voice filled Dounia's ears.
"Cyra, this is your home now. Everything we have is now yours. You are safe and you are loved."
Dounia felt herself whisper, "Yes, Missus Ghali."
The woman's eyes welled up, "No, sweet little one. Please call me Qua." The woman stood up and looked about the room. She seemed at a loss and then a light came to her eyes. "Would you like to meet the twins?"
None of the mirrors reflected the team back.
Instead, Tymythy could see into the room and the streets of a small city lay out before him. Zhayalamar is the only city Tymythy had ever known and it was a crowded, stinking, place filled with wonders of architecture madly stacked, one building over another.
This place was not that.
Sand blew over great stone slabs set into the street. Massive monuments branched out of marble and sandstone walls. Great towers branched out in an ordered spiral with bridges attaching them together. A fountain gurgled with crystal clear water and over the fountain a sculpture of what Tymythy took to be a scale model of the city floated impossibly - like the island over Hallwn's lake. Great, gem like mirrors hung from archways that were decorated in carvings of bewildering mathematical precision.
A man ran into view of the mirrors and he was reflected here and there. He stopped. His dark blue robe with stars open slightly to show a shirt with a strange pattern of plates and Tymythy himself could feel the weight of it on his shoulders. Kizu'gina burned gloriously as the man held it and Tymythy could once again feel its' heat next to him.
Soldiers, men and women, with a practiced strength came to the man's side. They wore fine robes that likewise covered strange armour and held weapons of peculiar design. Longbows with the handle set closer to the bottom than the middle. Slim long bladed swords with grips nearly as long. Clubs nearly their height with characters carved in the length and studs all about. Crossbows with confusing complicated winches.
Several of the soldiers and many of the citizens of this strange place were clearly elven but they were taller and had a presence that Tymythy did not know of their race. Several of the elves had a nimbus of light about the tops of their heads.
A great purple sphere rocketed towards one of the monuments, blowing it apart. Rubble began to fall towards a small gathering of people.
Tymythy’s feet rooted to the spot when he realized he was in midst of another vision of Kizu'gina’s former master’s life. How easily the magic could take hold of one’s mind... and how well it knew what to show him to make looking away next to impossible. As before, what he saw was largely incomprehensible – strange places, strange times, soldiers in unfamiliar colours carrying weapons whose origins he could not place.
When something flew into view to detonate against a tower in near distance Tymythy found himself ducking by instinct – his brain might be shouting to him that this was a mere seeming, an image formed by magic, yet he could feel the enchanted spear in his hands pulsing with power, like a heart beating in tandem with its twin in the image of distant past. He wondered just who was choosing to show him these things – surely these were not simply random images. The first one had delivered pain hand in hand with knowledge. Knowledge that might be all lies and fabrications. But perhaps they were not. He felt Kizu'gina wouldn’t be reacting to mere random images... but then again, how could he tell? Magic was a mystery to him.
All he knew, whoever had grafted this dream knew which ropes to pull.
With an effort of will Tymythy lowered his eyes, bracing himself for another mental onslaught yet hoping his curiosity would come with some morsel of information.
When it had been Dounia's (possible) past, she'd been able to resist. But this (possibly true) glimpse into Cyra's childhood had her rooted to the spot. Dounia kept looking.
Zahra steeled herself as she felt the touch of magic. She knew that she would open herself up to the auras to try to help her team but she also knew that sometimes magic could overwhelm one's body.
Keeping her eyes open but fixed on the ground before her, she spoke the words she had learned to help her dissect magical auras.
As they walked the winding path, Cairee took the opportunity to murmur prayers over her friends.
They came to the entry of a new room of mirrors. Cairee paused, causing the rest of the group to scrunch up, huddling around her. Zahra was studying the magic they could both feel radiating from the mirrors. The cleric peered into the room, looking for the way out. It was impossible to do so without letting her gaze fall upon the mirrors themselves.
Everyone stopped just outside the room. Zahra and Tymythy moved their gaze to the floor ... Dounia and Cairee didn't.
Qua and Cyra passed from mirror to mirror and went around a corner, out of sight. If Dounia wanted to see where they went she would have to go into the room of radiating mirrors. She could still hear them speaking.
Cyra, "Could I be like their sister?" and Dounia couldn't help but whisper along.
Qua, "I think they'd like that very much. You know, I think you look like them. Let's go see."
Dounia couldn't help but let some tiny words out of her throat, "Could I be like their sister?"
As soon as Tymythy cast his eyes to the floor all of the sounds and smells and sensations dulled. The voices sounded like there was a pane of glass between the speakers and him so that it was har dto make out what was being said.
Stone sprayed from the shattered sculpture even unto the feet of Old Ku'bara'sigi.
Tymyth could see peripheraly that several of the warriors with the king ran to the exploding monument to aid the family. One set of feet stopped and yelled back, "My LXXd! WhX Xo you faXXer?! WXX casX yXXr eXXs to the XXouXX?!"
Horns sounded but they were faint, almost the memory of horns. Tymythy thought he could see in the peripheral the king raise up Kizu'gina, speak to no one, "XXat have X dXXX", and charge further into the mirrored room. One of the guards called out in dispair, "XXX wesX sXXulchXr is fallXX!"
Tymythy thought the words so hard that they slipped out of his mouth, "What have I done."
As Cairee looked into the room she saw the blackness she'd felt earlier. It was in every mirror. There, inside the mirrors, there was no light or hope. There were no gods and life itself was absent.
A greyness began to fill the mirrors as her vision seemed to focus. Cairee's view was as if she were laying on the floor looking up at the ceiling. A familiar ceiling. It was the ceiling of the room for the worshiping of the family gods. It was her parent's home on Splitheel Hill. Over her knelt ... herself??? Younger than she is now but it was herself. This reflected Cairee looked paniced, desperate.
The image became clearer and clearer as the pain in Cairee's sides returned. She could taste blood on her tongue. She coughed up iron wetness from deep in her lungs.
The young Cairee pulled away repeating the same sounds, "On, on, on! enod uoy evah Tahw. Gnieyd s'eh!" and then the view of the mirror twisted. The ceiling slipped upward and the eyeline changed so that the view was from a standing position.
Cairee was standing up now. Her hands were reaching out before her. She looked down and Beheader was at her feet. It rose up from the ground and rolled into her hands ... wait ... her hands were a boy's hands. They weren't her own. They were a boy's and they now held Beheader.
Then it happened.
The view turned to either side. Arnie was on the left and Mar was on the right. They were pushing daggers into the reflections sides, pushing in slowly. There was a voice like it was speaking inside Cairee's head, "uoy deliaf ev'I ... nam dlo"
The view looks forward and into a shield hanging from the wall where Beheader once hung. In its' reflection Cairee could see Flyson in between her brother and sister as the quickly withdrew their knives.
A whisper escaped Cairee's lips, "uoy deliaf ev'I ... nam dlo"
As Zahra stared at the floor the noises and feelings she got from the mirrors faded. It was quieter than the first time. She could hear a sound like footsteps ... a door opening. Then the weak sound of voices.
Trying to keep his own word Tymythy looked away… but apparently that did nothing to shield him from the dangers of the vision, as from the corner of his eye he saw a hail of debris flying towards the king… and even as the rocks belted him, Tymythy could feel the bruises in his own flesh and bones. More importantly, though… while the voices had become just as muted as the images when not viewed directly, he could make out enough.
As he had looked down, so had the king in his vision. For what it was worth, it seemed he could affect the vision, just as it did him. Now, how far could he take that, and for what benefit? If he were to speak while focusing on the vision, would the king repeat his word? Would the people around him then answer?
Finding this out might just be worth a few more bruises…
The mirrors clouded over, draining all light and hope from the room. Cairee felt as if she was pulled into a living memory - the night Flyson tried to steal The Beheader. Except it wasn't her memory of the first time she felt Saiph's power as she healed his wounds. She was Flyson, and she felt every blade that was pushed into his body by Arnie and Mar. She looked around, hoping to see herself coming to save him. But all she saw was the reflection of Flyson, bleeding badly. She heard strange words leave her lips.
"Enough!" Cairee pulled her eyes from the mirrors, clasped her pendant, and prayed. Then she clasped Dounia's hand and again led her friends into the terrifying maze.
Dounia had rarely felt so evenly conflicted. She knew she should look away, but she desperately wanted to see. And this vision wasn't dangerous like the last one was. At least not physically. So far.
The herald hadn't mentioned Cyra - had she been adopted? A foundling? Or was this lies and trickery? Merely a distraction to prevent them from getting through the challenge in a timely manner. Already they'd been here almost as long as they'd been in the portcullis challenge.
She felt herself pulled forward by Cairee, and went willingly. She kept her eyes open, looking for the child she'd always thought of as her sister, to try and figure out who she really was. If there was a chance this was true, that Cyra had saved her life, then she owed her at least that much.
Everyone felt the rush of healing light coming from Cairee. The light bounced off the mirrors so than nothing within thirty feet went untouched.
Cairee guided everyone by the rope into the heart of the room. She could surmise there was an outermost wall and followed it until they returned to Dounia's mark at the point where they entered. The space was hexagonal and had three other entries/exits. All the while she could feel resistance in the rope from Dounia, Tymythy, and Cyn. She could feel her widened awareness of the world fall away.
As the group went around the corner Dounia could see the reflections change. She was entering another room. The room was small and had two nooks set inside. One had a bedroll. The second had a crib and in it were two infants.
Qua, "Cyra, meet your new brother and sister. This is Alsqr." A chubby child with thin dark hair burbled and chewed on a wooden ring. "And this ..." Qua lifted a little girl out of the crib. "This creature with the infinitely curious eyes is my youngest by thirteen minutes, Dounia." The child reached out and grabbed a lock of the young Cyra's hair and the real Dounia could feel the pinch. In the air was new baby smell.
There was the sound of the front door flying open and a voice came from the first room. A man of almost forty years, remarkably hansom with dark hair, entered the room. He wore common clothes but had his shoulders covered with a delicate shawl. He was already yelling before he came into view. His smell was familiar, coffee and silica.
"Can you believe those authoritarians! The Maittiyil Elves sit back and weave impossible labyrinths of bureaucracy while their foot soldier dwarves crack the whips. I can't believe it's taken so long for ... what's this?!" The man stopped mid-sentence to regard little Cyra.
Qua handed Dounia to Cyra, who could barely hold the child, and grabbed the man's arm to lead him away from the nursery. Cyra snuck to the door's edge to listen in.
Qua, "THAT is Cyra and her parents were lost today in that riot you were a part of, Kay. We're taking care of her now. You promised me when we decided to have a family that you were done with this! What, those three boys come to town and all your promises melt away?"
Kay looked furious, "That urchin! There is no way ..."
Qua, "You measure your next words carefully! You can go in that room and welcome our new daughter ... or you can go through that room and pack your haversack."
Kay stared into her eyes and his crossness vanished, "You're right. Whenever I fall into the passion of taking care of these people I forget. You always bring me back. How can I claim to fight for these men and women and not take care of someone who has lost everything. Forgive me." He smiled and kissed Qua on the forehead.
Qua looked at him dubiously, "Good. Go in and welcome her. I'll start a broth."
Kay winked, "Fish? or Lamb?"
Qua smiled and her shoulders dropped, "Lamb."
They parted and the man came into the nook room. He knelt down in front of Cyra who still held little Dounia. He smiled broadly and looked at the young Cyra like she was the most important thing in the world, "Young Cyra, I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. This strike has taken so much from so many and still we have to find the courage to fight on. Please be welcome in my home. We will keep you safe. You will never be hungry. Just remember ..." His smile cracked off his face to reveal, slightly yellowed teeth, and the breath of an old tobacco chewer "... you're no blood of mine."
He took little Dounia from her and place the child back in her crib.
Cairee led the team to the first exit on the left of where they came in.
She could feel some of her borrowed power drain. She lifted her hand into her hood, stroking Ousel. "How are you doing? Can I ask for a few more feathers?" Ousel plucked at her wing and dropped a sleek dark feather into Cairee's hand. She raised them solemnly to her heart, and then her forehead. "Mods Iws Lwo," she chanted softly, then tucked the feather into her hair.
Dounia felt a stab of pain enter her heart at the harsh words. Shaken from the vision, she cried, "Father! Shame on you!" Was that why Cyra had spun a story of a benevolent father-king far away? To erase the memory of a man who had treated her poorly?
Clinging to Cairee's hand, she said, Let's get out of here."
She lifted her hand into her hood, stroking Ousel. "How are you doing? Can I ask for a few more feathers?"
A tiny whisper, "I feel safe. You move like an arrow. I know you'll land on the other side."
Zahra kept her eyes downcast but cocked her head at the sound of footsteps, a door opening, and muffled voices.
She felt for the magical auras and was pretty sure there were three and that they were the same as before. She shared her findings with the others. "However, the divination aura feels stronger than before. But why?"
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”Another vision of the life of the previous wielder of this spear,” Tymythy murmured, looking intently at Kizu'gina in his hands. ”I don’t know what it intends to show us… but this time I realized the vision reacted to my actions. When I looked down from the mirror, the image of that lord did as well… and the people around him commented to it. So… I would like to experiment, the next time such a vision takes me. To find limits to the interaction.”
”It doesn’t feel like what I saw was without meaning… it’s almost if someone is using the vision to share some knowledge with me they think I need to know – for whatever purpose I can’t begin to guess, as this seems to me an awfully complicated way of dropping a hint. Unless it is Kizu'gina’s magic that is somehow connecting me with its past, using the mirrors as a medium. Still. Someone is trying to tell me something. I think I should try to learn what that is.”
But that was all she could tell ... without looking directly at the mirrors.
A wave of anxiousness rushed over her but it wasn't as strong as before. Not looking was keeping whatever pain the mirrors caused at a distance but Zahra was learning less and less about what the visions showed.
[ooc](Please make a will save. Normally the DC would be 16 but you have been averting your eyes consistently so for you the save is DC10. Success means you take 2hp in psychic damage. Failure means you take 2d6)
As Cairee led the group around the mirrors Tymythy could see the reflection of different parts of this strange city. At one point he watched the ceiling and walls reflect the image of a triumphal arch and The Blackbirds walked through its' opening. Beyond the arch stood King Kubar'sigi. His hair rustled in the forced air.
A shadow shot over all. It was like the shadow of the wyvern from the orcs hunting challenge but much larger. Kizu'gina didn't quiver at its' appearance. For the space of a glance, the reflection of a great beast shot by in the sky and disappeared behind buildings. A streak of silver-white.
Warriors came, surrounded the king and waited for his commands.
In the direction the shadow flew a great explosion errupted from behind the majestic marble buildings. The cloud rose up and a wave of hot wind rumbled between structures to nearly blow people off their feet and coat everyone in sand. Kubara'sigi held firm as the others admired and looked to him.
In the sky the flying figure was tossed backwards and collided with a bell tower, demolishing the top of the structure. Tymythy could see it now. A dragon with silver-white scales but smaller than he expected. Its' body was lodged in the broken tower top.
Then a second explosion to the King's left.
Then a third to his right.
All turned back to watch like they knew where the fourth would happen and sure enough a southern explosion.
A woman crawled out from behind a building. Her chain coat was covered in dust. She yelled from the distance, "My King! The city ... the city is fallen!"
Dounia glanced at the mirrors and all she saw were the endless reflections of her team. The other visions were gone.
Cairee looked to the floor and couldn't see what was happening. The feeling of Beheader in her hands disappeared. She could feel a rush from behind her. Her peripheral vision told her the walls of her old family home were rushing past like she was walking backwards quickly.
A backwards hop and she was in a window. The thrill of being somewhere she wasn't supposed to washed over her.
Also, odd numbers round down so you took 5hp damage earlier.
Tymythy set his jaw in anticipation of pain to come but did his best to face this third vision with his head held high and eyes set forward. Some force was gifting him these visions of the ancient lord’s life, and he had no particular reason to think them as pure fabrication. So he should strive to learn of them what he may… and, if the lord did indeed mirror his actions, hold himself as befitted a warrior lord, so as not to bring shame to Ku'bara'sigi’s memory.
Explosions. Screams. Sound of stomping feet as warriors rushed to Tymythy’s – no, Ku'bara'sigi’s – side. Despite the strangeness of the vision it seemed all too easy to become absorbed in it – something he would do well to keep in mind. He squeezed the usriev in his hand, trying to use the feel of solid metal in his grip to anchor his self.
Another tower shattered, this time by the body of a silvery dragon – what manner of being could toss around a dragon like he might a half-sack of potatoes? Could this be the wyrm whose blood Zahra shared? Or perhaps its kin? The creature here looked magnificent, true, but… not as massive as he Zahra’s tales had made him see Silimiel in his imagination.
A warrior pulled herself from a pile of rubble that had almost buried her, voicing her desperation. To Tymythy, this seemed as good a chance to test the limits of interacting with the vision.
”As long as there is life, hope, too, survives,” he said, turning his head slightly in the direction the woman was from Ku'bara'sigi, hoping that, were the lord to mimic his gesture, it would seem as acknowledgement of her presence. ”Give me a report, warrior. Details. Information, too, is a weapon, one that we may turn against our foe. What hostile forces still remain on the field?”
Either this would work and the vision accommodated his action... or he would end up feeling foolish. A cheap price to pay, considering.
Zahra's stomach rumbled as she smelled the familiar smells of her mother's cooking. Her ears strained to hear what was being said but they were so muffled. The sorceress paused mid-step when she recognized her own voice speaking to her mother.
If only she could be certain that these visions were to help and not mislead. There was a huge part of her that wanted to look but she also didn't trust herself to not make things more difficult for the others. She just needed to get through this challenge without being a liability like she had been in most other challenges.
She couldn't help but feel anxious as she wrestled with her feelings about the visions. Was she making the right choices?
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Everyone could hear Tymythy call out, see him grip his weapon while Zahra did all she could to stare at the floor and avoid looking in the mirrors.
But in the mirror Tymythy could see the King do the same! Was he puppeting the old master of Kizu'gina? Or was he acting out the kings actions instinctively copying the truth of the past?
The dark-skinned warrior dressed in badded metal and closest to Ku'bara'sigi looked to his king with a flush of pride, "The old king has returned!". Somehow Tymythy instinctualy understood the man's name to be Nabu'alpa'usur, who was also called 'Usur'. The other warriors raised their waeapons and cheered!
The woman stumbled forward. "Silimiel has engaged the stranger in the black cloak. They seemed to argue even as they fought. With the dragon repelled the stragner has gone after the Me'za'kar." It came to Tymythy that the woman's name once was Tash'lul'tum, who was also called 'Tash'.
Me'za'kar? How did Tymythy know this was the term for centres of power?
Usur, "With the Me'za'kar down the prisoners will escape! With the gererators damaged they could take out the entire city!"
A man with one long braid, who was named Hammu'rappi and called 'Rabby' yelled to his king, "My Lord? What is your wish, do we face the Stranger or head west and clear the way for evacuation? Is the evacuation horn to be sounded or the horn for war?!"
Tymythy looked about the mirrors. He saw the other warriors: Hamilcar (Ylcar), Bomilcar (Bilcar), Abdastartos (Artos), Puabi (Pu'a), Enheduanna (Enhee), Semiramis (Zemi), and Belshazzar (A'zar).
Zahra recognized a converstion she and her mother had. Though she didn't remember the words enough for her to understand what was being said.
Nisma's voice, "You XXXe wXth LXXy HaXXXXX XXr X lXXX XXme toXXX. How arX XXXngs bXXXXXn yXX?"
Zahra's voice, "I XXX't XXXw. SXX is XXXXXXg me sX muXX but XX feels ... fXXXy."
Nisma's voice, "Mmm."
Zahra's voice, "SXX's XXXXyX watXXXXg XX liXX XXe's wXXXinX XXX me to Xreak in XXXX. SXX'X XXXXing me sXXXXts like I'XX nXXXr XXown XXX she XXXer XellX me XXXXt XXXXelf. HXXX you XeeX the XXXtuXXs in her XXXX? She XXX sX XXXXg and I XXXXX sXX Xas a XerforXXX of sXXX kXXX. A XXXXer? Why can she tell me how XX XXcus and see XXXic and, I don't XXXw XXXthXXX XXXXt her, XXX XXXXXd she be XX XXld?"
The real Zahra could feel her throat tighten anxiously.
Nisma's voice, "She XXXXs tXXt yoXX XXXXX abXXXXXy is dXXXerXXs. If people find XXX they will Xry to force you iXXX a schXXX, or XXXXX, the city XXXl Xake yXXu XXXXXpeaX. She XXX beXX X CCrt of tXXt worXX for a XXXX XXXX. LXXXXX to her. EmXXXXX her Xaution. Above all keep thXs Xetween yXX and X and LaXy XasXXna."
Zahra's voice, "Yes MXXXXr, I knXX."
A nearby door closes quietly then the vision was gone and would never come back.
I see you did make a perception check and the spoiler before this reflects that - sorry
My last couple of posts are filled with errors and things that should have been deleted
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”Me'za'kar. Tash'lul'tum. Hammu'rappi. Hamilcar. Bomilcar. Abdastartos. Puabi. Enheduanna. Semiramis. Belshazzar,” Tymythy murmured, trying his best to commit the unfamiliar names to memory even as the vision faded and left him back with the others, none worse for wear but saddled with a host of new questions.
”It worked,” he said, sounding like he could scarcely believe his own words. ”I spoke, the words were echoed by the lord in the vision, and the people around him answered. Ku'bara'sigi was fighting on the wyrm Silimiel’s side against some unnamed enemy. Human in form, I assume. Fighting… and arguing. Which to me suggests the worm knew his opponent.”
”I still don’t know for what purpose I am shown these visions from times long past, but I am convinced a reason there must be,” he said, giving the usriev in his hand a long look. Personally, he was convinced the ancient spear had something to do with what was happening, not that he could prove his theory.
”Me'za'kar. Tash'lul'tum. Hammu'rappi. Hamilcar. Bomilcar. Abdastartos. Puabi. Enheduanna. Semiramis. Belshazzar,”
Having made a ring of the room, Dounia was relieved not to hear any further voices. True or not, they were painful, and she was relieved for the reprieve. She admired Tymythy's courage in seeing this as a learning opportunity, despite the risk. But then again, he seemed to be seeing visions of an old dead guy, not his own family. "Shall we go north?" she said, rubbing her head, which still ached. They were standing near a SW exit. "This probably goes back to that first vision room."
Cairee could feel the whoosh of air around her as she fell backwards out of a window. Her whole body flinched and she stumbled forward a step, pulling Dounia with her. It was a relief to feel the ground beneath her feet. She looked back at her friends. Dounia and Zahra seemed clear headed. Tymythy was staring at his usriev with wonder. Cyn and E'gama had been quiet for a while. Everyone was, thankfully, still together.
"Let's keep staying to the left," Cairee said, guiding them to the 12 o'clock exit. Please Saiph, let this be close to the end.
When Cairee looked to Cyn and E’gama she saw E’gama holding his friend tight. Cyn was whispering, ”Why? Why was she with HIM? They knew each other, E’gama. They were FRIENDS!” She spat out the last words in disgust even as she whispered.
E’gama pleaded with his own eyes screwed shut, ”I beg you to stop looking. It might not be lies but it is already got a hold on you. ”
Cyn, ”No. No, I’m ok now. I’m prepared.”