Blaidd sniffed the air as if that would clarify anything. Something was wrong. There was a tension in the Capital's atmosphere like he had never felt before. Quietly, he took one longer step as he followed behind his mistress, closing the distance just a little. Surely, she was aware. Yet she had told him nothing. He would have to be content to wait.
Looking up to the golden glow of the Erdtree, it almost seemed reddish in his eyes. Well, sometimes. Of course it could not fade. His eyes were just too used to the vivid red of Ranni's hair, seen from behind.
That she had told him nothing did not alarm him at all. He was her shadow, and so he could not move until she did. He would follow her every footstep. His only regret was that, as a god in waiting, there were many burdens she could never share with him. Call it blasphemy, but he did not see why there was a need for new Empyreans, new gods-to-be. Was not Marika Eternal? Surely, the Queen could spare her children these burdens?
The sound of his armored boots on the smooth tile of the Capital's walkways was the only oddity. He was the only thing to be wary of, here in the heart of the empire. Yet, why did his fur bristle with anticipation? Had he seen something in his mistress' expression?
His eyes traced the fallen form of the ancient dragon Gransax below them. So colossal that its body could never be removed from the city, yet even it had fallen before the power of Queen Marika. Yet Blaidd's nerves would not still.
He and Princess Ranni had been raised almost as siblings. Yet the dividing line had always been there. When they played as children, she never left his sight, was never allowed to hide in their games. He had always been watching her. What had he missed? What had clever old Iji recognized that he hadn't? Why did she insist on keeping that vermin Seluvis close?
He wanted to reach for his sword, the symbol of his oath. He wanted to hold something firm and real to calm the anxious tension in him. But to do so in the Capital would shame his mistress, and he would never do that. Leyndell was safe, eternal and flawless. Of course it was. It had to be. Its only rival was the House of the Moon, and yet that house too was taken under the Erdtree's boughs. Even now, Princess Ranni went to tea with the Queen.
Blaidd almost ground his teeth. Almost. To do so would make him seem a snarling wolf. He could not cause alarm. He would not shame his mistress. Something was wrong, and it would be his failing as her shadow if he could not find it in time. If he was not as wise as her, he would have to be all the more observant.
The air seemed almost unnaturally still in the Capital. Always did, as if a gust would disturb the frozen eternity of Leyndell. The moon changed its shape, but the Erdtree never seemed to grow or bear fruit or fade. Yet, the scent β the scent was changing.
At last, they reached the Queen's audience chamber, and his mistress approached the door. On either side, it was flanked by Finger Crones. They looked at the pair with blind eyes and rang the horrid bells on their staves.
"Your fingers! Your fingers! Present them and be judged!"
Blaidd and Ranni each stood before a Crone and extended one hand. After a moment of fierce gripping, the women stepped back and rang their bells still more. Blaidd suppressed a canine urge to whimper.
"The Lunar Princess Ranni approaches with her shadow! The Empyrean of the Staff is worthy!"
Ranni's face remained impassive, but she raised a hand for them to calm.
"Tell the Queenly Mother I have come for our teatime."
Before the Crones could shriek any more, all sound ceased.
α πΌππ₯ππ£, ππͺ πππππ. α
The voice of Marika, the voice of God, was something you felt in your marrow. There was a note of dread, of your blood freezing like you had been caught in the midst of some minor sin. And yet, it revived you straightaway with a promise you would be forgiven. Somehow, it was still the most frightening thing Blaidd had encountered.
Attending priestesses opened the great doors, their entire lives dedicated to this menial labor. Who else could be blameless enough to open the way to God? Yet, Blaidd pitied them. They did not know Marika, did not love her as he did Ranni. There was a cruel line between being a well-loved tool and being a disposable one. He was akin to Ranni's own flesh and would walk her path to the end. What life was their for these women if they fell ill or otherwise broke? Or if Marika thought she had no need for them?
The pair entered the sanctuary, and the great doors closed behind. Clouds of golden incense hovered over the floor, and the overwhelming scent assaulted Blaidd's nose. The scent of the capital was changing, but he could not use his keenest sense here where it mattered most. It was like walking blind. A sidelong glance sent the perfumers a few steps back at least.
"Princess Ranni greets Her Holy Majesty, Queen Marika the Eternal," his mistress said.
There was an odd humor in her voice, made crisp by a tone that implied they shared some private joke. Blaidd noted it but said nothing. As Ranni genuflected, he did so without thought. Such was his nature as her shadow.
The Queen was above all. In the sanctuary, that was literal. She sat in a chair suspended above a root of the Erdtree that wound through the temple. It was almost funny, if one didn't mind committing blasphemy by saying so. And there was good reason not to.
Quietly, Blaidd eyed the monster which loomed behind the Queen. If Marika decreed they all must die, there was little Blaidd could do. Just as he had been made as the young Empyrean's shadow, a deeper dark had been given to the prior generation. On a balcony which seemed to ooze its own shadows crouched Maliketh β Death of the Demigods. Blaidd was half-wolf, a man reshaped by the Fingers to be a faithful beast. Maliketh was one of the last beastmen, servants of the Fingers since the very beginning. His physical presence and the conviction in his fierce gaze oppressed Blaidd's own instincts with the force of natural law.
α πππ‘ π π π₯ππ πΌπ£ππ₯π£ππ ππ π¦π£ππ€π π₯πππ, π¨π π£π₯ππͺ πππ¦πππ₯ππ£. α
The Queen stepped from her seat into the perfumed air of the chamber. Red-gold light spun from her shoulders, and she descended on radiant wings as glimmering leaves fell about her.
It was wrong. They shouldn't have seen that. That era had passed. Blaidd's every muscle tensed, and he looked to the elder beast. Yet the Queen's Shadow remained placid. Was this calm born from certainty, from unshakable faith in Marika, who was his sister, Queen, and God? Blaidd looked quietly to his own mistress. There was only that cocksure smile, sure as always.
Author's Note:
I'm not really back, so don't go wild. This is only going to be a short piece β exactly ten chapters. In the meantime, if you want a laugh, take a map of Lordran and put it over the Lands Between so that the Great Hollow and the Stone Dragon archtree line up with the Erdtree and Haligtree.