This is fine, Gandriel reassured himself glancing to and fro, his eyes narrowing, trying to make out the path beyond the unnatural dancing mists that had reach out to greet them, encompassing them in a soft and oddly cool embrace. He tried to ignore the dead silence that encompassed them, only broken by the occasional thump of a mused rock that rolled when stepped on, most definitely fine.
A twig snapped.
He nearly screamed.
"A bit jumpy are you?" Celeste, as he'd finally learned her name was, drew, cutting him a dry look. Her unbelievably bright star flecked eyes locked onto him, unflinching. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, stripping away his bravado piece by piece.
She could tame a viper with that look.
Under the moonlight she was undeniably striking, more so than any other fae women he'd ever laid eyes on.
His eyes glanced down and noticed she had been the one to step on a particularly large twig, had snapped it with a bit more force that her light steps could have made.
She was also unbelievably wicked.
She was toying with him.
I'm fine.
He supplied her a sultry grin.
"Hardly," he offered her an arm, winking at her trying to smooth over the edges, "however if you're scared I'd be happy to escort the fearful lady up the path." She gave him that flat stare, she wasn't buying it, not even for a second.
This is fine, he dropped his arm and shrugged his shoulders, making it seem like no great loss, it is all going to be just fine.
They made their way up the inclined rolling hills that surrounded the large structure, the moss and grass so thick and wet that it squelched with each step they took.
No signs of life stirred on the island, as though their arrival had sent any living thing into hiding, except those damn ravens watching their obvious approach, occasionally shifting their wings from their perch on the tombs stone top. Only the swirling eddies of the mist, directed by an absent force, like a conductor leading a silent symphony, accompanied them. The old dead trees loomed skyward, basking their grey-washed skeletons in the moonlight, no wind ambling their branches.
This sure didn't match the description he'd found in that old sodden leather-bound book in that rusty trunk in Marchedor, the one that described this place as a blooming peaceful isle that's silence brought enlightenment to whom ever stepped foot on it's soils. This was more like the excerpt from one of the horror tales weaved on All Hollows Eve aimed to scare the children away from creeping about the city at night.
It's position had appeared on that old damp map, an itty bitty tiny red dot centered in the vast expanse of ocean residing to the west of the main continent, almost exactly in the middle between itself and Prythian, due North from where that accursed wall had once sat.
The place where some hidden treasures of ancient times was supposedly hidden, if that soggy old molded journal was to be believed.
Based on his calculations it was at least three weeks travel under ideal conditions from Vanica. Two of those weeks had been supplied by the slave trade boat he'd conveniently offered his services to in the dead of night in Portmouth, ash arrows and knives aimed at his throat as he smooth talked his way into working with them. Convincing them that having an extra set of fae hands around would prevent any of them from getting their throats ripped out by any cargo they were sent to capture.
The last week, shortened to just under two days of sailing thanks to his storm magic, was supplied by Celeste, an expert sailor and prime navigator much to his surprise and delight.
She'd proven to be useful beyond just her initial purpose, even if his jaw still cracked uncomfortably when he opened his mouth.
He glanced side long at her, weighing his calculations about her gifts, watching with sharp eyes to see any peek of that forbidden magic rising to peek through. That magic that old scrying glass had shown him that would help him in his little predicament.
He saw none.
She had seemed relatively normal except for that temper and those looks of hers upon meeting her, but he could palpate the thrumming well of magic coiling beneath her skin. Something in Gandriel knew that he had made the right choice.
He quirked his lips, eye glistening.
She would do.
They surmounted the last hill, the mist beginning to peel away from them, dancing away, as they took the final steps towards the stone tomb that lay before them.
Now he just had to get into that tomb without pissing himself.
The thing was absolutely gargantuan.
Tall stone pillars loomed above them, cracks running parallel along the edges of their structure where vines peaked out, having over taken the ancient stone and crushed it beneath it's grasp. A low wide staircase laid at the lip of the entrance, it's pale surface almost blindingly bright in the moonlight and at its center in front of its stone sealed entrance, stood a black stone.
Just the sight of it sent Celeste's senses reeling, its other worldliness beckoning her closer. Its inky surface absorbed all the light cast on it, like a void that swallowed everything whole, so at odds with the bright tomb that surrounded it.
Whatever they were looking for, that stone served as a marker and warning to any who tried to access the crypt, Celeste was certain. Gandriel stopped next to her, his tan skin glistening in the humidity under the moonlight, his golden hair having curled at the ends as it'd dried.
"Do you feel anything?" He asked, sliding his gaze over to Celeste, hands stuffed casually in his pockets, "any tug or pull?"
A pause.
"No," Celeste shook her head, a shiver racing up her spine as she felt the gaze of the ravens on her, watching, her entire being shuddering at the wrongness of this place, "all I feel is awful and an immense sense that this is a terrible idea."
"Try anyway." Gandriel signaled towards the tomb door before them, quirking a brow at her.
She cut him a look. So help her if this moron got her killed on this island—
It was like a drum, suddenly brought to life, throbbing when it sensed her. She nearly collapsed when she felt the first vibration rip through her, shaking her very core, calling to her, demanding her attention.
Void, this thing was beyond even darkness, it was the feeling of emptiness of a pit that none could escape-
I've been looking for you, a feminine voice cooed, it's wispy tone dancing, come see child, come see what awaits.
Celeste felt her eyes widen, palms suddenly coated in icey sweat as she glanced towards Gandriel who's tan skin had blanched, his lips pulled tight as he looked at the tomb as though it might eat him.
She gave him a look, asking if he had heard the voice.
He gave her a small nod.
Why do you hesitate?
Celeste felt like she was going to vomit.
She felt herself take one step, then another, directed by an invisible force tugging her forward. Somehow she could not find the will to stop it, the feminine presence pulling her forward as though by some invisible strings.
I will tell you want to do, it purred, that empty feeling caressing Celeste's energy, you need only let me lead.
Gandriel stood behind her, those sharp cat like eyes watching, assessing.
As if reciting an old rite, something she'd done a million times, she circled the monolith once clockwise, her boot clad toes tapping almost soundlessly against the stone base as the voice whispered in the night-
Once for the guardians who lie in wait,
Copper corpses twined in armor of might,
She felt herself stop, the world around her silent and slow, a fog overcoming her senses, she turned and circled again counterclockwise,
Twice for the daughter, come too late,
Inky darkness seeping, beckoning the death of light,
She stopped again, the temperature having dropped suddenly that her breath fogged in front of her, an icy presence holding her palm as it turned her clockwise once more,
Thrice for the mother who lost her mate,
On your knees, may death ascertain your rite.
Stepping forward Celeste laid her flat palms across the monolith, the strange circular markings beckoning her. As her skin made contact with the stone the marks flared to life beneath her hands, turquoise light thrumming. Releasing a breath through her nose she tried to focus on it, whatever it was, calling out to it tentatively with her energy.
Much to Celeste's surprise and chagrin, it responded back, viciously.
Celeste grunted in pain as it lashed out against her energy, barely having the time throw a shield up around her mind, a skill she'd nearly forgotten how to use, as it barreled straight for it, intent on tearing through her. It practically chuckled in delight at her touch, wrapping its energy viciously around her, pinning her.
Thank you.
Her eyes flew open, she couldn't move. Her hands were bound to the stone.
A low rumbling and creaking cried out in the night, sending the seven ravens cawing and flying in various directions, terror coating their tones as the stone slab behind the black stone opened, a stale wind rushing out of the tomb to meet them.
As the door stopped it's motion the stone let go, Celeste's hands sliding free from the prison that held her. That dark voice still called out to her in delight, an ancient wickedness cooing at her in immense gratitude.
Whatever she had just done, she was not supposed to have. Never in a million years was that to have been opened.
Her heart thundered in her chest, her limbs quaking, the force having just drawn on her power, her very life force to break whatever seal had held that tomb shut.
The presence shifted, crawling back into the recesses of the open tomb, an eerie hum echoing out of it's depths.
Celeste sunk to her knees.
Light footsteps approached behind her, the lazy trot of a lion who had successfully captured it's prey. Celeste glanced up to that golden face, her shoulders still quivering.
"Well done," Gandriel complimented, though a prominent waver was in his voice. He patted gently Celeste on the shoulder before offering her a gloved hand, "Let's go."