Chapter Sixteen: The Earth Temple
A man stood at the edge of a cliff, dressed entirely in black. He was tall, lean, and ghostly pale, but otherwise normal. The only unusual characteristics were the short black horns protruding from his forehead.
The cliff itself was made of a dark rock, devoid of any kind of vegetation. It stretched down into the yawning depths—there was no bottom that could be seen, only a thick mist.
And in that mist, the man in black saw images of Human soldiers fighting nightmarish beasts in a faraway swamp. They were not advancing, but retreating…they had been falling back for several weeks, now.
They were Centralian legionaries, fighting for the last major obstacle standing in the way of victory for the forces of darkness. The man in black watched impassively as the fight raged on. The soldiers were more than capable in combat, but the monsters were much more numerous.
The images in the mist showed a giant of a man—long, bushy gray beard snaking down from his helmet, runite sword cutting into anything inhuman that stepped within its reach, shield emblazoned with the symbol and motto of Centralia flashing in the light…
The man in black curled his lip at the sight of the man and waved his hand. The images dissolved into broad green grasslands and rolling hills. There was a large city. A city of cobblestones, bustling plazas and marketplaces, opulent buildings, the Arena, and the palace in the center…made of brilliant, scarlet stone that sparkled in the sunlight.
"Why the black robes?" someone asked. Someone other than the man in black. "Changing up your wardrobe? It is odd to see you out of your customary red."
A second man emerged from the fog behind the cliff's edge, also staring into the images shown in the mist of the abyss. He appeared much older than the man in black; his skin was lightly wrinkled, and a white beard extended from his chin down to his chest. He was dressed similarly to the man in black, only he wore robes of varying shades of blue. This was only appropriate, as he actually was much older than the man in black.
It was the older man in blue who had spoken.
The man in black regarded him with barely-concealed hostility. "What are you doing off your cozy little island?"
"Thought I'd stretch my legs," the old man in blue chuckled. He nodded to the image of the city in the mist. "I'm sure you cannot wait to tear that place down brick by brick."
The man in black gave a snort. "Did you need to read my mind to figure that out, old man?"
The old man laughed again, quietly. "I hardly think you would behold the splendor of Tethys simply to admire. You have always had a fetish for destruction."
"It is nothing personal against the city itself," the man in black shrugged. He then hesitated, and seemed to reconsider. "Well, perhaps it is a little personal. If I were to say that burning Centralia to the ground would give me no pleasure, I would be telling a vicious lie."
"You will not succeed," the old man declared. "The Prophecy-"
The man in black interrupted the old man with a rumble of laughter. "Your precious prophecy says the Mahjarrat boy will end the war. I'm afraid it says nothing about saving Centralia."
Avis came tumbling into the dimension of the Earth Altar, landing face-first in the dirt. He picked himself back up and wobbled on his feet a little bit, fighting a desperate battle to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged.
After another wave of nausea, the boy lost the battle. He staggered over to one of the stone pillars, leaned against it, and heaved his last meal out onto the ground. He was careful to avoid retching on his feet or sandals.
There was a flash of light, and an older, salt-and-pepper-haired man in a dark gray traveler's cloak materialized. In one hand, he held a staff whose orb glowed with many different colors at once. In his other hand, he held a small, silver talisman that glowed a gentle brown.
Jerrod stowed the earth talisman that had allowed him entry into the altar. He arched an eyebrow as he saw his pupil straightening up from one of the pillars. The Cleric raised his other eyebrow when he saw the puddle of vomit on the ground. "Entering the temples still doesn't agree with your stomach, eh?" the older man observed.
"What gave it away?" the boy muttered, spitting residue from his mouth.
"The vomit, mostly," the Cleric replied in a flawless deadpan. He gripped his staff and pointed it straight at the puke, muttering something under his breath. The vomit itself grew a much darker brown and seemed to harden into a solid shape before crumbling away into dirt. Grass then sprang from the newly-formed earth.
"Nice trick," the boy remarked.
"A simple transmutation," the Cleric shrugged. "Magician's tricks; nothing worth wasting your training time over."
Avis gazed at the Earth altar itself with wary eyes. Like the Water altar, it was a large stone dolmen with the symbol of Earth—two curving, parallel streaks, almost like rolling hills—carved into the top. The altar glowed a soft brown as well, identical to that of the corresponding talisman.
There was great power in this place, humming through the air. The temple itself was a large cavern…but it was much more than a hole in the earth. The cavern itself almost seemed to have a breath, a heartbeat of its own. The power of the altar hummed in time with this life force.
Avis ran a hand over the rough surface of the altar. "So…do I sit on it like last time?"
Jerrod dragged over a boulder and sat on top of it like a common chair. "When you're ready, boy."
"Last time, it felt like someone lit me on fire," the boy muttered. "I don't like feeling like I've been lit on fire…"
"Haven't we already had this conversation?" Jerrod frowned. "Something about you whining like a little girl, and me saying something encouraging, and you deciding to go ahead, be a man, and get Awakened?"
"No," Avis shook his head.
"Ah," Jerrod nodded once, frowning slightly. "Well, then, why don't we just pretend that it's already happened and skip to the end, shall we? The altar awaits."
"Fine…" the boy muttered, climbing onto the glowing dolmen and sitting cross-legged in the center. "If this hurts like last time, though, I swear I'll tan your hide next time we spar."
Jerrod grinned. "I look forward to it. Now close your eyes, little Mahjarrat."
Avis did as he was told, shutting his eyes and taking slow, deep breaths.
"Feel the Anima Mundi flowing through you. Feel the energy of Air and Water burning within you. You are Mahjarrat. You are the elements," Jerrod droned, his voice gradually blending into the background. "Feel the power of Earth simmering inside you, almost like it is trying to break free. This place is a nexus of elemental Earth energy, and your Anima Mundi feels it. Stop tensing…let the energy flow into you, let it spark your own power."
Avis took another deep breath, and forced himself to stop resisting the humming energy of the altar. He felt a tugging sensation in his gut, and then a moment of agony, like he was being encased in frozen steel. In the Water temple, he had felt this way when suddenly exposed to the pure, raw elemental energy of the altar…but this time, the pain only lasted for a few moments before it subsided into mere discomfort.
Jerrod raised an eyebrow, watching as the glow of the altar intensified, pulsing rapidly. A semi-visible vortex of greenish-brown energy was whirling around the boy, who had begun to rise gently into the air. Last time he'd been unconscious, but now he was fully awake.
The boy had also reverted to his Mahjarrat form—his human visage had all but vanished, replaced by a living skeleton. The bones glowed a bright white, making it difficult to see through them as one would be able to see through a normal skeleton's. The eye sockets glowed a piercing scarlet, as well—the same color as Avis's eyes. And interestingly enough, if looked at very carefully, one would be able to see the boy's human face faintly flickering over the skull, like some kind of ghost image. And the skull itself burned with a cold, white fire—the same light that shone from the rest of his body.
Basically, he'd turned into something resembling a Lich. Jerrod had no idea if that was the true form of a Mahjarrat. No one really knew for sure what a Mahjarrat's true form was—the Menaphites did not call them the 'Faceless Ones' for no reason. But every Mahjarrat the Cleric had come across always seemed to revert to this strange Lich form…so perhaps it was their basest appearance.
But back to more important issues.
The young Mahjarrat's white glow began to intensify, along with the vortex of greenish-brown energy swirling around the altar. Jerrod's other eyebrow slid up to join its twin. Though the Cleric had already witnessed this once, it was still every bit as mind-numbing as the last time.
The ground began to shake lightly, and the light grew too bright to look at. Jerrod was forced to avert his eyes. The altar started to pulse with a blistering heat. The Cleric manipulated the air around him into a shield of sorts, keeping the worst of the heat at bay.
Eventually, the light grew so fierce that the Cleric could not see anything but blinding white, no matter where he looked. He couldn't even see his own hands when he held them right in front of his eyes.
Then, after a steady minute or two, the light subsided, the quaking ceased, and the energy returned to its original, soft hum. Avis was lying on his back, breathing heavily. He was still in his skeletal form—every time he breathed in, the white glow around his torso burned slightly brighter.
Now that the blinding light had subsided and Jerrod was able to see Avis clearly, he ended up chuckling quietly to himself.
"What's so funny?" Avis asked. In his Mahjarrat form, his voice came out disembodied and gravelly—which was slightly unnerving for anyone who was used to hearing his 'normal', higher-pitched voice.
Jerrod had encountered his fair share of Mahjarrat in the past—Enakhra, Sliske, Azzanadra, to name a few…and Hazeel, too. He'd seen Mahjarrat in their Lich form many times, and it wasn't funny in the slightest…but they had all been wearing robes, or battle armor of some kind.
The sight of Avis, however—a frightening skeleton with bright, glowing white bones, a fiery skull, scarlet orbs for eyes…wearing a boy's cloth pants and an open black vest. It was an amusing spectacle.
Jerrod pointed this out to his pupil, still struggling to stifle his laughter.
Avis wasn't quite as amused. "This feels weird enough as it is, alright?" the boy-skeleton huffed, flexing its finger bones and clacking them together. "How do I get…uh…get back?"
The Cleric shrugged. "How should I know? I'm not the all-powerful, shapeshifting skeleton…in a boy's vest," Jerrod lapsed back into laughter as he added that last remark.
Avis muttered something on his breath and sat back down. He was painfully aware of his transformation, and he was not enjoying it. It was impossible to describe…but if anyone ever asked Avis what it felt like to be turned into a living skeleton, the boy would simply reply, "Not good."
If Avis still looked like a boy, he would have closed his eyes. In his current form…well, Jerrod wasn't exactly sure what he did, but the burning scarlet eye sockets dimmed and winked out. The Cleric supposed that was the boy-skeleton's equivalent of closing his eyes,
Avis took another deep breath, and concentrated on himself. His human self…or appearance, rather. Maybe it wasn't his true form, but he didn't want to go walking around as a glowing, flaming skeleton. That wasn't the best way to not attract attention. And it was also what the form he'd lived his entire life thus far in.
As the Cleric watched the young Mahjarrat concentrate, that flickering, almost invisible ghostly image of his human features started to solidify. As flesh began to reappear on his body, the bright glow of the skeleton's bones subsided and vanished. The cold white fire that burned from the boy's skull vanished as well. The only part of the Lich form that remained were the eyes,
Circles of black appeared in the centers of the two burning scarlet eye sockets. The circles grew a little more in size while the rest of the scarlet shrank to make a circle around the black centers—forming an iris and pupil, respectively.
Avis opened his eyes and took another deep breath, grateful to be breathing with normal lungs again. He glanced down, touching his stomach, feeling the newly-reformed flesh. He then moved his hand up to his chest, where he felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Yes, he was definitely back in human form.
Jerrod stood up from his boulder seat and stepped over to the altar, hoisting his pupil down from the stone dolmen. Avis wobbled on his feet again, but didn't throw up, thankfully. Probably because he'd already heaved up anything that might have been in his stomach upon entry to the temple.
"Well?" the Cleric asked. "Was it as bad as last time? It did not look it."
"No, it wasn't as bad," the boy admitted. "Still kinda hurt for a little bit, but it went away…and I wasn't knocked out, either. When the actual energy in me was sparked…in the Water Temple, it felt like I was on fire. This time, I only felt uncomfortably warm, with a lot of pins and needles."
"I think having two elements already Awakened made it much easier for the Earth energy to release," the Cleric surmised. "When we Awaken you for the final time at the Fire Temple, I would imagine that it will be even easier."
"When are we gonna get to do that?" Avis asked, a gleam lighting up his eyes. "Will I get to shoot fire from my hands, finally?"
"If you want to perform for an audience like a conjurer of cheap tricks, then yes," Jerrod grunted. "If, however, you desire to stop two angry Gods from destroying the world, you'll probably end up doing much more with the fourth element than…ahem…'shooting it from your hands'."
The boy decided not to reply. He had long since gotten used to his mentor's borderline cynical humor. While the things Jerrod said might have annoyed or affected him in the past, they did not faze him any longer.
The Cleric had taken note of this, as well, a long while ago, and had decided to keep the boy disciplined by threatening to whip him into next week during the next sword sparring bout. Once, a couple weeks ago, Jerrod had actually broken his pupil's jaw during a sparring bout, so Avis knew better than to take his mentor's threats lightly.
Jerrod and Avis left the Earth Temple without any further delay.
Teacher and student set off back into the woods of the Avarrockan Hills, eager to put some distance between them and the glowing ruins that were actually the entrance to the real Earth altar.
Though it was practical for them to avoid landmarks like the temple, Jerrod had another reason for getting back into the woods as quickly as possible. He had a gut feeling that staying anywhere near the Earth Temple would be a very bad idea, and he'd learned—after over forty years of fighting nightmares and coming out the other end alive—to trust what his gut told him.
And his gut had been right.
The sun had barely begun to set when a beautiful woman in a crimson cloak emerged from the shadow of a large tree near the entrance to the Earth Temple.
Enakhra stepped forward and strode right into the dimension of the Earth altar without any difficulty. She removed her hood when she appeared in the cavern that the altar was situated in, taking in a deep breath.
She then walked over to the altar and laid her hands upon it.
"Mm… Still warm…" she murmured.
The altar was not actually warm. What Enakhra felt was a sort of 'afterglow' of the massive energy surge that had occurred as a result of Awakening Avis. Judging on the feeling of the altar, Enakhra guessed that she'd missed her quarry by several hours. She pursed her lips, tempted to return to Bandit's Hollow and spill some blood…but she quickly forced those urges back down.
The she-Mahjarrat turned away from the altar and teleported back to the outside world. At first, she was at a loss when she wondered which direction her quarry was going in. Then she remembered how Jerrod the Lightbringer was Awakening her son.
A crude method, taking him to the elemental temples…but apparently effective.
The boy was already proficient in Air, and he'd already been Awakened at the Water and Earth altars…which left only one temple, and therefore only one direction for them to be traveling in.
Enakhra gave a faint, wolfish grin as she started heading east.