Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Unspeakable Words, Chapter 6 - Cirrus

When Cirrus Alindal first began to study magic, he aspired to learn everything there was to know about the mysteries of the world. After years, he learned to accept that he could never learn it all. There was much that was unknowable, and that which was proven fact could be disproven. Truth was impermanent; it took wisdom to accept that. Cirrus endeavored to delight in being proven wrong, though it wasn't always easy. The prideful boy from his youth was difficult to overcome.

When he entered the shade's veil, he realized at once that he had stepped into a memory. He was outside Neith Temple on a stormy night. There were terrified clerics holding halberds with shaking arms. In the distance, Caona stalked forward in her porcelain mask, a black cloak sailing behind her. She dragged a large black coffin and carved a deep trail through the gravel.

But Cirrus was uninterested in bearing witness to a curated memory experience. Instead, he retreated down the path to the undercroft and disrupted the shade's expectations by hopping into the gorge.

He fell rapidly through several layers of memories before landing on the shore of a desolate beach. The sand was volcanic and the air was thick with fog. Still, it was an atmosphere the shade had chosen, which displeased him. He exerted his will by holding out his hand to dissipate the fog. In moments, it became a nice sunny day.

In the new environment, Cirrus was so far from where the shade expected to lead him, he could focus without interruption. He knelt and closed his eyes. He could feel himself physically in the undercroft and discovered he could exit the memory at any time. But he wanted to find the shade's teeth. He wanted to keep Eloise and Bryn safe.

He saw movement through his eyelids and opened his eyes. A blonde woman in a red silk dress was kneeling beside him. Curious; she wasn't a memory; she wasn't part of the shade.

"You aren't what I expected," he said to her.

She didn't look at him, only off into the expanse of the sea. She sounded tired when she spoke.

"It is easy to cast strangers as villains, to write their stories without humanity, to pretend they have not suffered."

"I only meant there are components to this haunting I had not anticipated," he said. "You are more than just a memory. You are a spirit."

"Is that what I am?" She asked as if she truly did not know. She gave Cirrus her eyes. Pieces of her identity flooded his mind. She was Helynne Vora, a lady of Morne once. She was the lover of Caona. She was killed by Caona's enemies. "I've been away from my body for so long," she said. "But I've been kept here in the dark. She will not let me go."

"Caona," he said.

"Yes," said Helynne. "She was good to me, but she was never good. That was a lesson for me to learn in life and in death."

"Is your body here in the undercroft?"

Helynne stopped to think. She squinted; the memories pained her.

"Yes," she said. "She left me in the magister's quarters. She said she would return after collecting what she needed to bring me back. I waited here. I wasn't given a choice."

He pitied her circumstance. Caona forcibly tethered her to a realm between life and death. He regretted that there was nothing he could do to help her. He hadn't studied much in the way of necromancy. Likely, the only one who could help her spirit rest was Caona herself.

Cirrus got to his feet. To his surprise, the environment around him changed. He was still beside a body of water, but it was Lake Fafalla rather than the Einalian sea. In the place of the beach was an abandoned campsite. Narah was standing on the shore looking up at the sky.