Senerith's decision left a strange taste in my mouth, that of a surrender too swift. How could a guardian of such absolute devotion, whose every fiber vibrated in the name of her mistress, bend so easily, even under the word of a god? It was beautiful, certainly, this trust... but a beauty too smooth, too facile, like a lake whose tranquil surface might conceal troubled depths.
Yet, I perceived a subtle influence that Ethilos exerted over her, a particular hold. Perhaps it was due to her nature as a divine servant, a chord resonating more strongly when plucked by a celestial power. A bond of blue blood and ancient oaths that rendered her vulnerable.
Be that as it may, the die was cast. We all stood, united by a palpable tension, upon Gilliin's tombstone. The slab, of white marble veined with grey, was cold under the pale glow of the crypt's fireflies. Senerith stood a little apart, her gaze divided between a torn loyalty and a curiosity born of despair. Profaning the rest of the one she had loved and protected was a sacrilege that twisted her soul. You could see the conflict playing out in the feverish gleam of her eyes and the almost imperceptible trembling of her hands. But curiosity, that insidious serpent, had gained the upper hand over reason, and we with it.
Just as we prepared to act, Ethilos's voice shot out, sharp and authoritative, cutting through the hum of our uncertainties.
"One moment. Before anything else, it is imperative that the two young people place their hands on the stone. Without the touch of the last receptacles of Gilliin's essence, sealed by these spheres, the tomb will not yield."
His gaze settled on Raysley and me. We were the keys, the living echoes of a power beyond our understanding. With some apprehension, we pressed our palms against the icy surface. The marble seemed to absorb our warmth for an instant, then became pure inertia.
Rayzo, Estris, Hiyro, and I strained. The slab did not budge an inch. It was like trying to move a mountain. Rayzo's strength, capable of shattering oak doors, seemed paltry. The mana saturating the stone weighed it down far beyond its physical mass, creating an almost sentient resistance. Our muscles burned, our feet dug into the dusty ground. A collective grunt rose, mingled with effort. Push after push, with a grating of stone that tore through the sepulchral silence, the heavy slab finally slid, revealing the darkness of the vault.
"Nothing!"
The word escaped my lips, hollow, disbelieving. No coffin, no bones, no sign of decay. Only immaculately white silk fabrics, carefully arranged, lay at the bottom like an unmade bed. The tomb was empty, sealed for nothingness.
The shock struck Senerith full force.
"This is impossible!" she choked, her broken voice echoing in the crypt. "I was there... I saw her... I watched over her until the sealing! HOW?!"
Her world, built on a century of devotion and guilt, collapsed in an instant. All rationality was swept away by a tsunami of pure distress. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees, a raw sob tearing from her throat. Her body was wracked with convulsive tremors, her fingers clutching the cold ground as if for a last anchor. Raysley rushed forward, embracing her with bewildered tenderness, soon joined by Karla, whose gentle words tried to penetrate the wall of pain.
Ethilos, meanwhile, observed the scene with an indifference that chilled the blood. His face was a mask of detached calm. He took a final sip from his cup the gesture almost vulgar in this context then set it down with a precise little click.
"Senerith!" His voice thundered, sharp as a blade. "Do you remember the day of your corruption?"
The words acted like an electric shock. Senerith froze amid her tears, her gaze lifted to the god, devastated. Her eyes, drowning in sorrow, seemed to say she could bear no more suffering, yet she was condemned to it. Condemned by failure.
"What... what do you mean?" she whispered, an ancient terror resurfacing.
"Recall. Nearly a century ago. Two individuals presented themselves to you. You repelled them, but not without damage. They injected you with a massive quantity of negative mana. Their goal was not merely to corrupt you, Senerith. It was to crack, if only for an instant, the seal protecting Gilliin's body."
Each phrase from Ethilos fell like a hammer on an anvil, forging painful images in her mind, awakening a shameful memory. She curled in on herself, as if each word were a physical blow.
Within me, a dull rage, accumulated since our encounter with this cold, manipulative being, reached its breaking point.
"You bastard!" I exploded, my voice resonating with a force I didn't know I possessed. "God or not, your words carry weight! Do you think dumping the truth like throwing stones makes you wise? She failed, yes! She suffered for a century, yes! And you, you strut about as the 'God of Wisdom'? You are incapable of the slightest empathy! 'God of wisdom,' my ass!"
My anger, long contained in the face of his arrogance, finally erupted. He wounded with surgical precision, indifferent to the collateral damage to souls.
A leaden silence followed. The faces around me expressed a mixture of shock, dread, and disbelief. Defying a god like that...
"You didn't just do that?!" Hiyro whispered, eyes wide, as if expecting me to be struck down on the spot.
I turned my eyes to Senerith. Through the veil of her tears, her gaze met mine. There was no more distress, no more fear. Only an intense, profound, and silent gratitude. She didn't exactly smile, but something in her face relaxed, a glimmer in her devastated eyes. It was the look of a person offered a hand in freefall, infinitely precious.
Ethilos, for his part, considered me at length. His impassive expression first cracked with incomprehension, then with a strange glimmer. A short laugh escaped him, then another, more genuine. And that laugh grew, swelled, becoming a thunderous roar that seemed to vibrate the crypt's walls, a laugh full of genuine surprise and a form of... amusement?
"Incredible!" he exclaimed, catching his breath, a tear of laughter at the corner of his eye. "If someone had told me that one day a mere human would speak to me thus... I would never have believed it. But you are right. In part. True wisdom also lies in recognizing one's wrongs, even divine ones. I have been... brutal. The gravity of the situation does not excuse everything."
"Gl... glad you understand..." I stammered, still reeling from my own audacity.
"Senerith, my apologies," Ethilos continued, his tone serious again, but less cold. "But I had to make you understand the urgency. Something is afoot in the shadows, yet in plain sight, and if we do not act, this world will sink into a nightmare from which it will not recover."
"What exactly are you alluding to?" Karla asked, her researcher's curiosity momentarily overriding the surrounding emotion. Her face was tense, hungry for answers.
Ethilos let a heavy silence pass. His slight smile vanished, replaced by absolute gravity. He set his book down with extreme care, joined his hands before him as for a rite, and his gaze seemed to embrace each of us, weighing our souls.
"Then let us begin from the beginning."
His voice took on a different quality, ancient and resonant, as if he were quoting annals engraved in the stone of time.
"Three millennia ago, we the Nine Rajan, Gilliin, Nifilia, Jinoka, Thanifa, Xalan, Eneris, Kafka, and I, Ethilos made a decision with no return. We chose to sacrifice our physical existence, to scatter ourselves into the currents of the world, to seal away a catastrophe that threatened to engulf all of our creation. This force of absolute corruption, we named it the Miasma."
He paused, letting the word hang, sinister. Then, in a lower but even sharper voice, he added:
"Or more precisely, to seal away the one who controlled it, who embodied it. The being whom your Holy Church, Karla, venerates as the pinnacle of its pantheon."
A deathly cold seemed to fall upon the crypt. The name, when he pronounced it, was like a death knell in our skulls, icy poison in our veins.
"Alios."
Our breath caught. Karla's eyes, the Inquisitor's, dilated with horror mingled with absolute denial. Her world, her faith, her entire truth had just been shattered. The shock was not merely a revelation; it was an earthquake fissuring the very foundations of everyone's reality, promising to upheave everything forever.