Hexblade's Charm

Three and then some - Just Give Me A Reason

The Realm of Torment. A dark, desolate landscape under black clouds, the stars no longer visible – just like in Melandru's Domain, only here, where Abaddon had been imprisoned long ago, there was no soft, warm light, no comfort, no life. Just the twisted, tendril-like trees, as dry and cold as the skeletons littering the ground.

And the screams. Oswald was practically glowing, delighted at the torture that filled the island. Here was where the twisted, evil and corrupted people of the world were banished to spend an eternity in torment. This was hell itself.

"You know, people always talks about the drama and mystery surrounding a departed's will. But most of the time, it's a dead giveaway", Oswald cackled from the back, but noone paid him any mind.

For Malyck, the worst thing (even worse than the tension of the last two weeks) was seeing the still glitching Hexi stand at the railing and stare down with this look of panic and despair on his face that the Sylvari knew all too well. This was what Hexi saw in his nightmares; the people writhing in pain, gouging their eyes out, breaking bones, throats hoarse from decades, centuries of screams. The eternal suffering of the Realm of Torment. Malyck knew that Hexi had once spent time here, back when he was aimlessly floating through the Mists, appearing and reappearing in random locations without his own control. This was the worst place he had ever been to, the one to which he had never wanted to return.

He stepped up next to the warlock, who was caught in his own world, and gently reached for his hand. Hexi pressed it so hard his knuckles turned white, but Malyck didn't flinch. It was all he could do. He knew they had to talk, and soon, but not now. Not like this. He felt Hexi's pulse through his fingers, beating way too fast. His hands were feverishly hot; they had been for days. Malyck bit his lip and stayed close, their shoulders almost touching, and not a word fell until they finally reached the Sanctum in the middle of the Realm.

The library, the safe haven in the midst of hell, was set in the middle of an icy lake. Mists were creeping above the surface of the water, surrounding the building mysteriously and parting the black smoke above: a star-filled sky opened up only above the small hill. Winding paths were piraling up to the blinding white dome of the building. It was quiet, but for some reason the stillness of the place gave it more of a peaceful than an eerie air.

Oswald let the Candy Corn down next to a terrace, and everyone jumped down. The library seemed quiet from the outside, but as soon as Oswald pushed the ornamented door open, they heard the fluttering of wings – at least that was what they thought until they saw the swarms of magical books gliding through the air inside. Elegantly, they curved around reddish trees that grew up towards the glass window set in the dome, behind which the starry sky was visible. And all around the magnificent room were bookshelves, balconies, tasteful little sitting corners, stylish decorations. The dignified smell of old paper, ink and knowledge.

Malyck practically had tears in his eyes. "This is even more beautiful than Melandru's Domain", he whispered. His words echoed in the empty space, and he clasped his hand over his mouth for fear of disturbing this oasis of peace.

"Yes, it's quite lovely", the Mad King said loudly and continued to destroy the aura of dignity by adding: "It is a downer, however, that it's situated in the midst of these burial plots – they're the last thing we need!"

The look Malyck gave him was so icy that even Oswald stopped making bad puns. Instead, he cleared his throat and said: "We should start by seeking a safe room for us to spend the night. Clearly, this place is deserted as well; one must really wonder where everyone went lately. Hopefully we're not surprised by any more of these creatures. I believe there should be a circle of protection around the lake outside, but one can never be too careful."