Gylda
? 1304 AE?
Undulating dunes of sand rolled and crashed in a landscape ravaged by time. Everywhere Gylda looked; the landscape swelled and swallowed the ruins that rose around them like bastions to the night. In the sky a gibbous moon glared down despondently on a landscape that was out of time, its blue light the only source of illumination in a land without cloud or stars.
Gylda fought to keep her footing as the sand beneath her feet moved and rolled like waves. Desperately she held to Aliana's hand as the undulations threatened to push them apart. Her sole thought and purpose was to get to the ruins on the edge of the horizon. They rose from the chaos of the swallowing sands like a citadel, hard and unyielding. Dark and ominous it stood tall as the sands broke on their walls like the sea on rocks during a squall. Her feet could find no footholds as she fumbled her way across the landscape, her hand was sweaty and ached from the pressure she exerted on her daughter's as she half dragged her in her wake.
Her eyes focused on the dark ruins, her lips moving in a silent litany of prayer to the spirits as she fought her way towards the citadel, her face wet with a steady stream of tears as she grew more desperate. Her hair wafted around her head, blown by an unseen wind that pulled at her. Thought became meaningless, time even more so, as she made her way across the desert.
In what felt like an age she finally found her way to the monolithic structure, her eyes followed the curve of its façade in wonder. Desperately she sought an entrance to the building, slowly edging around it, always careful of the sand dunes that crashed against its walls. Up close she saw how weathered the building was, the base slowly being eroded by the force of the sand. It was made of stone as black as pitch, and, where protected from the elements, was as smooth as silk. Using her left hand, she gently felt along the buildings dark surface, feeling along quietly looking for a door or hand hold that would allow her access into its vast space. Aliana was a weight pulling at her right arm, tugging gently as the dunes pulled at her. Ignoring the feeling, Gylda continued onwards.
She sighed softly as she found an opening between two bulky pillars; slowly she eased herself between them, taking care to maneuver Aliana in before her.
The inside of the structure was vast. Without the light of the moon it was as dark as a yawning grave. Goosebumps erupted along Gylda's arms as she stared into a space with no light. Cool stale air played about the loose strands of her hair as the emptiness of the area became apparent with a tingle along her spine. Worried about her choice in destination, Gylda swung Aliana in her arms and tucked her head under her chin. Taking a deep breath she began looking for a stairway that would lead to higher ground. She closed her eyes tightly; knowing their search for light in this dark place would hinder her search, and instead focused on the feeling of the air on her skin and her sharp sense of smell. Using small shuffling steps she was able to move forward, in her arms Aliana clattered and knocked as she made her way across the uneven flagstones of the floor.
Every few steps, Gylda would stop and sniff the air; while stale it didn't have the dry burning quality as the air outside. After her fourth or fifth stop, her nose detected just the faintest trace of smoke, breathing deeply and trying desperately to slow the thudding of her heart, Gylda tried desperately to pinpoint its location. Then, picking up her pace, she made her way towards where she thought it originated.
As she grew nearer the air grew less stale and took on the smell of molding things. Taking deep gasping breaths she fought her way forward, stumbling more than once. Soon she tripped over a stairway. Still with her eyes closed, she gently moved Aliana to her left hip, careful to keep her head rested against her shoulder. Using her right hand she groped along the wall and slowly made her way up stairs that were steep and high, obviously made for someone far taller than she. On the edge of her hearing she began to hear a song, an old song, one that very few Norn knew and even less the true version. At first she thought that the madness of this place was eroding her mind, but as she made her way up the stairs it became louder and more lilted, the singer obviously not caring if she was heard. The stairway was spiralled and there were no doorways along the side her hand brushed against.
Gylda didn't know how long she climbed the stairway; in this place time was meaningless. All she knew was that she needed to reach the top of the monolith and that once she was there everything would be all right. The presence of the song helped her greatly. It bought her comfort and helped ease the desperate tension that plagued her since finding herself in this desolate place. After what felt like an age, the smell of smoke became stronger and a dim light played about the edge of her eye lids. Being careful not to blind herself, she eased her eyes open and allowed them to adjust to light that ebbed around the next turn in the staircase. She breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of smoke and the dry smell of books, then, adjusting Aliana in her arms, made her way forward to the light where the singing was originating from.
Around the turn, the stairway ended abruptly in an archway, bright light spilled out of it and illuminated the black stone that the citadel was made from. Girding her loins, Gylda made her way into the light and found herself in a vast library. Shelves ascended on either side of her into the darkness of the ceiling, ahead of her they swept immeasurably into the distance. Being careful to not jostle her child, Gylda made her way forward. Her strides were sure and strong, no longer the shuffling gait she used in the darkness below. Using her ears as her guide she made her way towards the source of the song, taking passage ways and cramped openings between the shelves that marched their way across the room.
The song grew louder as she went, the voice singing it was sure and feminine with a slight lilt on the words. Listening carefully, Gylda could not place the accent, although some of the words and phrases were familiar to her only because she had heard her great grandmother using them.
She rounded the corner and found herself in a clearing surrounded on either side by towering bookshelves. Pillows and blankets were strewn around haphazardly, and tables were cluttered with scrolls and writing materials. In its centre a large crystalline structure stood, glowing with a luminescence from within. In front of it sat a small humanoid, its hair was fire that flickered and burned around its head. The voice emanating from it feminine as it explained to the crystalline structure the names and purposes for the Spirits of the Wild. When she reached the last verse, she turned her head to where Gylda was standing and smiled beatifically as she reached the last syllable.
"Gylda" she said, her voice husky from singing. Her eyes glowed like emeralds and her skin shone lightly.
Gylda eased herself into the light of the clearing, carefully stepping over the clutter in her way. As she grew closer to the figure she noticed its diminutive height and deduced it to be human. Standing she would be double the size of Aliana.
"I'm lost." Gylda rasped; her voice grainy and small.
"That is one way of looking at it," she said, looking up at her from the floor, taking note of her sand covered gown and bare feet.
"What is that in your arms?" she asked, taking in the sight of her clinging to the child in her arms.
"My daughter," she said, shifting her in her arms, bringing her head beneath her chin and taking in the scent of her hair, "Her name is Aliana."
"Ah" She shifted and dropped her eyes. The smile, that had bought dimples to her cheeks, fell and her eyebrows came together in face that became suddenly grim, the opposite of what she was before.
"I think… I think I was like this too… When I arrived. Don't worry," she mumbled, bringing her glowing eyes to Gylda's, "It gets better."
She tried once more to smile, but it lacked the openness of her previous one.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"Um… Desolation I think? I knew once, but it's been so long." She shrugged then unfolded herself from her seat on the floor. "I am, um, sorry for the mess. I can honestly say I wasn't expecting company."
Gylda's eyes followed her as she made a half-hearted attempt at tidying the area. Her heart was thudding and sweat was beginning to form between her shoulder blades. This strange creature had an air of familiarity to her, although Gylda could not place it.
"Do I know you? You look so familiar."
The woman stalled, and then glanced at Gylda. Being careful not to spook her she made her way towards her, and, using a discarded pile of books as a ladder, climbed up until she was eye to eye with her. She bought a hand that was small and feminine with long tapering fingers up to Gylda's face where she cupped her cheek, gently running her thumb across the contours of her face.
"I can see why it likes you." She said, following her fingers with her eyes, a slight smile playing about the edges of her cupids bow mouth. "You are perfect, although I say that about all of my offshoots."
Gylda frowned at her then moved out of her reach.
"What are you saying?" she asked, anger blossoming in her voice.
"Only that my blood runs as strong in you as my daughter." She said, looking forlornly at where she stood. "And that it appears the sacrifical trait stands strong."
She tumbled down from the book pile, landing haphazardly on her feet. Then, looking up at Gylda, she bent down at the waist, stretching her arms out on either side of her. A cruel, self-deprecating smile playing across her face.
"Welcome to The Watchers Lair, child. Abandon all hope ye who enter here."
