Hexe - The Great Exodus

[CH. 0030] - Winterqueen

The Great Exodus was a monumental event that rippled across the map and occurred mere Falls before my birth. Its magnitude was such that, even as I pen these words, the echoes of its impact are still reverberating, and the wounds of the Menschen are still trying to heal.

I know it drives a shift in the tone of my narrative in this chapter, a deviation I embrace only because it is essential for understanding the world that shaped me.

In recounting these events, my sources have been those whose paths crossed mine—some coloured by personal biases, others less so. In every tale, I've endeavoured to sift through the layers, separating fact from fiction, the embellished from the understated.

This task is always challenging, especially when these stories are interwoven with my own life's story. Such was the case with King Xendrix Kaspian. His tenure may have seemed fleeting, yet it was anything but insignificant in the grand narrative.

After all, no villain's role is ever truly minor.

Little has been documented about the evolution of Xendrix's alchemy, but there were certainly more than a handful of eyewitnesses to his inaugural use of it. It is widely accepted that the moment he resurrected a fragment of the Spider Spirit with a single drop of crimson blood marked the first instance of necromancy on the entire continent.

To any mage, regardless of race, it is basic knowledge that life force—Nehsem—should not be harnessed for casting spells, much like one would not consume spoiled meat to nourish the body.

Hence, it did not surprise me in the least to learn that this solitary act could have awakened a calamity that now threatens every corner of our world.

I secured the authoritative records of these occurrences from the esteemed halls of the Capitol Palace, provided by a confidant whose trustworthiness is beyond question. For their safety, I shall keep their identity shrouded in secrecy within the annals of my writing, as the mere thought of any harm befalling them due to my actions is unbearable. Delving into these documents, I unearthed the origin of the dire threat we face today: the Lamias. Known in Humans as the Nightmares.

In the aftermath of the resurrection of the forty-four spiders, a collective oversight occurred. It appeared no one considered the necessity of their capture, perhaps assuming they would instinctively return to their origin, the Spider Spirit. This assumption, unfortunately, proved to be a catastrophic error in judgment.

Meanwhile, as my parents made their way to the verdant lands of Faewood, a vast armada of vessels—from modest boats to big ships and sturdy cogs—commenced the task of transporting throngs of people to the bustling port of the Fisherman district of Ormgrund.

Such journeys are rarely undertaken alone; the hidden corners of these seafaring vessels often harbour uninvited guests. Typically, these stowaways are harmless creatures like mice or small reptiles. However, in this particularly ominous instance, the unseen passengers were none other than the newly resurrected spiders.

Unbeknownst to the travellers and crew, these spiders, imbued with an eerie otherworldliness, lurked in the shadows of the vessels. Their presence, silent and unseen, spelt the beginning of a series of events that would soon unfold into a tale of unforeseen consequences and chilling horror.

According to the accounts, there was but a single survivor: Abio, known as Abio, the Nameless. At the tender age of five Falls, Abio witnessed a massacre that stripped him of everything familiar.

I dedicated countless hours to studying the reports, their pages worn from my meticulous examination. In my quest for clarity, I extended an invitation to Abio to visit my office in Regulus, seeking a direct narrative from someone who lived through the ordeal. When he arrived, his eyes carried the weight of his memories, a silent testament to the horrors he had endured.