The smell was cloying in there. It permeated, so much so that his skin nearly felt permeable, as though it were nothing more than a paper-thin barrier between himself and the outside world. Then again, for all intents and purposes that's exactly what it was, especially in his case. No matter. It served its intention well enough, even down in that soggy, vaporous place.
Hefting his torch higher, Teeleh cast one glance back at his clean, dry study. A sigh heaved from his lungs. He would love to simply carry through with his procedure here, but sadly no amount of money could probably keep the guards outside from entering to check on him following the din he was about to create. A pity, really. He supposed he could have them executed easily enough. Money might not make a suitable muzzle for gabbing mouths, but it did hold a certain sway over the hang-man's noose. Depressingly, though, that would risk drawing attention to himself, and he loathed that far more than he loathed the considerable inconvenience of withstanding the irriguous sod below.
Stooping to roll up his pant legs so that they would not be sullied by the damp earth, the elf strode purposefully into the tunnel. His hand groped along the grimy dirt-carved wall until he found a protruding handle, and to this he gave a definitive tug. Behind him, the book case gave a soft rumbling, muted by careful oiling and tedious design, and closed him entirely in darkness.
Unperturbed, a quick motion with the torch ignited a line of sconces that traveled deep, deep down into the concealed passageway. Connected by tiny filamentous strings, they burst to life one after the other, bringing into sharp contrast the many statues lining the walls, encrusted in mud. Teeleh thrust the now useless torch into the ground by his feet and left it there, moving slowly, following the slope of this cavern. The sloshing sounds his feet made sickened him to his core, as did the gritty condition of the macabre artwork. Gargoyles grinned menacingly at him, emaciated forms punctuated by visible spinal columns and long, groping, gangly fingers, marked by sharpened claws. It was all for show, really. Not that he ever suspected that someone would actually have the intellectual capacity to find this place, but precaution was always wise.
And fear was an incredibly potent weapon.
Downwards he spiraled, for some undisclosed amount of time or other. Time immeasurable, retarded by the absence of the waning and waxing crystal light to define it. He knew of course that most of this was illusion, and traversing this less than illustrious hall only took a quarter of an hour. That, of course, was a disorientation he was used to. So much time he had lived in, over so many countless years. Like clockwork, the never-ending mechanism, it would continue on and on. The rising of civilizations and the falling of kings. Inevitable and utterly pointless, it all was. Often he pondered if he was missing some greater complexity, but in the end was always confronted with the realization that the only thing that would ever hold any real value was his own neck, the rest be damned. When push came to shove, the rest of society was always forced to agree. Dust in the wind, as it were, and in his dealings this became much more than an obscure metaphor.
Eventually, like the uncoiling of a tightly bound string, he reached the end of the passage. Here the muck and grime have way to a polished hardwood floor, clean and shimmering. Glancing downwards, he smiled as his blurry reflection looked back at him, removing his boots so that he would not grievously stain the soft golden hue. The floor was cool against his feet, a testimony to how deeply he had traveled, a reminder that he was now in the bowels of his impressive manor.
Striding across the room, Teeleh wound his way past shelves of neatly organized belongings: tightly bound leather tomes, alchemical paraphernalia, scrolls upon scrolls of documents written in his own hand. All of this he ignored, for it was not relevant in his current task. His movements assured and practiced as though he'd been through them countless times, he moved swiftly for the center of the room. Marked by a strangely archaic design that was depicted in a thick, ruddy, scarlet ink, the wood was marred by the image of a single circle, linked with countless outwardly spiraling loops. On one half, these vine-like pictures were shriveled and dead, their leaves crumpled from dehydration, the buds hanging desiccated and limp. Upon the other, flowers were bursting to new life, rejoicing in the coming of spring.
Removing the small parcel of ashes from his belt, he began to sprinkle the remains amongst the dead, decaying foliage, a smile of eagerness touching his lips. Round and round he went, pouring it out thoroughly, ensuring that the area was covered in the cremated deceased. With steps nearly faltering in anticipation, he stumbled backwards into the center of the living flora, his bare feet nestled among the painted leaves and petals. Again, the same smile cracked across his face, and he raises his arms slowly, intoning, the light in the room seeming to grow dimmer as his words echoed throughout. Simplistic, the incantation nevertheless held its own eerie foreboding:
“Dó tlexe ri dénâ€
I consume your life
He took a shuddering breath, and the fire shuddered with it, hinged upon his actions as though he were in perfect control of even his environment. The tips of his fingers twitched slightly, giving off their own faint glow, so subtle and hesitant a light that it was imperceptible to all but those who were trained to see it. He opened his mouth a second time, his heartbeat accelerating, eyes entranced by the image of the ashes spread upon the ground before him.
“Xup, ni dó drem dénee.â€
Die, so I might live.
Slowly, ever so slowly, with a lethargy that was infuriating, the dust began to shift. Moving upward in a manner that crept rather than billowed, like dozens of tiny insects coming together to make a single coherent form, the ashes rose. If his heart was beating faster before, it exploded now, his excitement making the beat entirely irregular. He closed his eyes and continued his chanting, his tone monotone and low, soft, yet commanding.
“ Dó tlexe ri dén. Xup, ni dó drem dénee.â€
“ Dó tlexe ri dén. Xup, ni dó drem dénee.â€
“ Dó tlexe ri dén. Xup, ni dó drem dénee.â€
Up to the empty ceiling, spotted with hanging stalagmites, the verbal charm echoed. The firelight in the sconces around him fell to a dull, dying glow, and then spontaneously burst to life again, a flickering sickly green. Reflected in his eyes, he was rendered pupil-less, his corneas entirely consumed by the nauseating color. Not like the living green of trees or grass, but a squeamish green, reminiscent of bile, of rotting things. The smile grew wider, until he looked like one of the grinning gargoyles that lined the tunnels. The ashes finished their shifting, taking on their final, humanoid form, completely with a slowly swaying tail and feline ears. Arms moving up further, fingers groping towards the malformed, gray impersonation of the fenki victim Barsidious had killed. He spoke directly to it, whispered as though conveying a sense of intimacy with it, his quivering tongue coming out to deliver moisture to his now dry lips.
“Dó tlexe ri dén.†He rasped, rattling breath, heaved from desperate lungs. Fingers twitched, eyes widened to their limit, lips parted to show gritted teeth as spittle hissed out, as though the process was taking a physical toll upon him, causing him pain.
The powdery, eyeless face jerked towards him, muzzle raised as if to sniff the air. Its movements were animated by particles following in its wake, giving the feel that it was in slow motion. Beneath its malformed paws, the deadened vines began to pulsate softly, dull-green sheen, pounding to the rhythm of the fire and moving upwards into the insubstantial wraith like an infection. Soon the glow had completely encompassed the undead creature, and an expression of panic, muted by the lack of brows, was unmistakable. The mouth opened wide to reveal a black, hollow interior, agonized enough to give the impression of a scream even when there was none.
Water flowing from an aquifer and into irrigation channels, the green, nearly tangible light poured past the painted lines, following dutifully to wrap themselves up Teeleh's ankles, travel up his legs. Centering itself on his left breast, hovering over his heart, it made his body quake with the power. His fists now clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms, the elf spat out the final words in an animal-like shriek. “Xup, ni dó drem dénee!â€
The fenki came apart at the seams. Dissolved, revealing a detailed skeleton complete with vertebral column and tiny, multitudinous fangs. It collapsed and was absorbed into the convoluted pattern, spirited away along its length, where it became one with the light that hurtled itself towards the dermorian and bowled him over with a force that sent him flying back into the wall.
The fire snuffed out and left the room in pitch darkness. Minutes ticked by, an hour. There was total silence, the sort that is so encompassing it's nearly deafening in its emptiness.
Finally, rustling belied the presence of life. Teeleh groaned, unable to make out any details, and stumbled towards the wall. He cursed beneath his breath and repeated a simple red way spell many times before he managed to get a spark, but when he did, the wall-hung torches re-lit. Groggy, taxed from his efforts, he made his way towards a long narrow mirror that was affixed to the wall and studied his appearance.
A young face looked back at him, surely not any older than forty cycles. At least thirty had been knocked off of his physical body. Turning his head left and right to examine the rosy pallor of is cheeks and youthful prominence in his fully fleshed face, a satisfied smile of contentment now graced his lips. It faltered as he felt something coarse and gritty against his tongue, and he scowled as he reached lithe fingers inside to pull out a clump of soft white fur.
Ah, side effects, he thought, casting the thing into one of the torches.
And he simply stood to watch it burn.
