From Silver and Chaos

Souls in the dark.

Chapter Three: Souls in the dark. 

I stepped forward and that step echoed into the open space. Great columns of shimmering black stone, veined white held up a ceiling crafted with coloured artistry. There were gossamer curtains that fluttered in the light air, like ladies dancing in nothing but pale blue shimmer.

Along the veins of marble, were silver stories carved into them. I traced them with a finger-tip, recognising some of the script as Ekini. Some I didn't, but everything in this castle felt older than the village beyond its doors. The children left us at the doors, clustering outside.

Niam and Murhall guided us further inside. Every step sounded like a single note and as we walked together, our footsteps sounded like a haunting melody that rung high. Nothing moved inside the dark walls. Light streamed in through the high arched windows, but I saw no dust rising in the illumination of sun.

It felt like I was breaking centuries of silence by walking here. Silver burned behind my breast-bone, the marks etched into my skin pulsating. Nervous energy consumed me.

"What do they call this place?" I whispered.

Murhall answered. "Maethryn."

With bruised fingers, I brushed the hilt of Heslan's knife.

Figures moved out of the corner of my eye, but when I glanced towards them, they vanished with a sigh. Unease trickled down my spine. I had walked near death before, but now it seemed like there was tangible threads here. Whispers of life drifting past me, too quick for me to catch.

The hallway ended abruptly.

A great room, built like an Elven sanctum loomed. Circular walls surrounded us and pillars lined an outer pathway. There was a viewing platform above, with doorways covered by dark gossamer curtains. Viewing booths.

Four thrones.

The same four thrones stood there, with their slanted and uncomfortable seats. One was still cut down the middle, jagged and wrong.

"Four thrones for four Seekers." A familiar voice surmised.

Niam and Murhall bowed their heads, retreating. The Lady stood swathed in red and gold this time, with a circuit of gold placed on a bald head.

"Aviana Birchwood" She spoke in a voice that was soft, yet insistent. "You have come, finally. I am Isobel. Once the last Seeker, but no more."

"Not since Dratlan."

She smiled sadly. "Not since Dratlan."

A shadow of wings moved behind her, softly beating. It felt strange, to be so close to the culmination of so many of my questions. The feeling burned in the back of my throat and I felt a flash of fear – as ragged and vicious as a beast. "You know I have questions."

"I expect you do."

Like everything in the Abyss, Isobel was eerily beautiful. Her skin was dark, laced with silver scars, much like the marks on my own skin. Words in Ekini were etched into her skin, shimmering in the sunlight.

She walked as if weightless, rounding the great throne-room. "Do you miss your home, Aviana?"

"Immensely. I hope that you can help me get back there?"

She tilted her head, her eyes glittering. "You hold the strength of two of my brothers and you expect me to help you?"

"I've been a Seeker for a wet few months. You have been Seeker for...centuries?"