A spiral stone staircase descended into the depths of the lake, leaving the light of dawn behind in lieu of the warm green flames burning atop a few sconces that sparsely decorated the narrow passage.
Zephyr: We are close now, but be warned -- our souls are not the only ones wandering this place. Soon, the noise made by the others will become so deafening that any communication between us will be rendered nearly impossible... Even hearing your own thoughts will be difficult, for that matter. The previous bearers will cry out in pain, warning you of their eternal plight, advising you to turn back... Needless to say, that will not be an option. No matter how loud their pleads are or how much you wish to escape, I will not let you go.
Virno: Save it, Greed. I'm only leaving here when the sword is mine.
Zephyr's laughter echoed inside his mind.
Zephyr: Good... Let's see if your determination remains as unwavering once you enter the Swordhall.
Five minutes passed, ten, fifteen... Virno's descent felt as if it had no end. The only sound to disquieten the peace, that of Virno's footsteps and the only light to permeate the cold walls, that of a few torches. Yet, soon enough, a faint whispering began to invade his mind.
Past Bearers: ... Leave... Leave...!
As he made his way further down, their voice only got louder. Their whispers turned into the roar of a distant crowd and, not long after, it felt as if that very crowd was now directly shouting in Virno's ear.
Past Bearers: THE SHORT-LIVED TRIUMPHS OF YOUR BRIEF LIFE WILL NEVER OUTWEIGH THE COST OF ETERNAL SLAVERY. YOU ARE A FOOL TO SACRIFICE YOUR SOUL FOR SO LITTLE...
Virno: Shut up...
He had finally arrived at the bottom. There, an old but well-preserved stone arch marked the entrance of a long hall, at the end of which laid the sword and its pedestal. Though the blade rested serenely inert as if peacefully slumbering in patient wait for its next window of freedom, the way was paved with countless dried cadavers and dusty bones. Upon closing his eyes, Virno's divine sight could discern the presence of countless souls within the Swordhall, the very same ones rattling his mind tormented screams, which now seemed to reach peak volume.
Past Bearers: YOUR TIME ON THIS WORLD IS BUT A MINISCULE DROP IN THE OCEAN OF FOREVER. BEFORE LONG, YOU WILL FORGET EVEN YOUR NAME. EVEN YOUR FACE. EVEN YOUR DEEDS. ALL YOU ACHIEVE NOW WILL BE BUT A DISTANT MEMORY AND, GIVEN ENOUGH TIME, EVEN THAT FLEETING REMEMBRANCE WILL ESCAPE YOU.
Virno: SHUT UP!
Unyielding, Virno strode towards the pedestal, undeterred by the wails of the ones who had once walked the same path he now did. Whenever he blinked, he could catch glimpses of their countless hands gripping onto him, trying pulling him back and away from the blade.
Past Bearers: HE WHO WIELDS THE BLADE OF VICTORY LIVES AN AFTERLIFE OF DEFEAT. HE WHO BEARS THE SWORD OF GREED SHALL SUCCUMB TO THAT VERY SIN. MOTIVES, IRRELEVANT. INTENTIONS, WORTHLESS. TO SEEK IT IS, ITSELF, AN OFFENCE OF THE HIGHEST ORDER. TO GRASP IT IS TO SPIT IN THE FACE OF YOUR ANCESTORS.
Disturbed by the seeming hypocrisy in their words, Virno stopped in the middle of the Swordhall and exclusively directs his attention to the lost souls.
Virno: AND?! HAVE YOU NOT DONE AS I HAVE ONCE?! HAVE YOU NOT OFFENDED AND SPAT ON THEIR FACES, TOO?! I WON'T BE LECTURED BY FOOLS THAT WERE NO WISER THAN I...!
The spirits now congregated around him, embracing Virno with their ethereal bodies, continuing to haunt his mind with their pleas.
Past Bearers: HEED OUR WISDOM... CAST ASIDE YOUR ARROGANCE, FOR YOU HAVE EXISTED BUT FOR A SHORT BREATH. WE HAVE BEEN FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. WE WILL CONTINUE TO BE UNTIL THE VESSEL IS SATED... THEN, ONLY THEN WILL WE BE FREE. WHEN ITS SHACKLES ARE BROKEN ONCE AND FOR ALL AND THE GOD OF WIND TAKES REVENGE UPON THIS WORLD, THEN WE WILL BE FREE. YET WITH THAT FREEDOM, WILL COME THE OBLITERATION OF ALL WE HAVE EVER KNOWN. TURN BACK... LET IT STARVE. CARRY THE BURDEN OF ITS CURSE UNTIL THE DAY YOU DIE, AND IN DOING SO HONOR THE EFFORTS OF THOSE WHO, TOO, CARRIED THE CURSE BEFORE YOU. PROTECT OUR WORLD, AS THEY HAVE. DO NOT BRING IT ANY CLOSER TO RUIN.
YOU ARE READING
Tales of Undeath: The Von Virtus Chronicles
FantasyLong ago, in a world not dissimilar from our own, seven powerful mysterious weapons were forged. After centuries of dormancy, safely hidden from those who could abuse their power, one man's curiosity drove him to discover the resting place of one su...
