Out of the Shadows, Part 19


The Oracle hangs slumped in her chains. You stare past her. Your expression is impassive... but inside your mind is in turmoil, as you understand for the first time the true danger that your mistress faces. The fear that must constantly haunt her, prompting her to take the measures she has.

Even now, images of the incomprehensible sadism you just witnessed play through your mind, making even the cruelties of the drow seem like child's play in comparison. The thought of it being done to anyone fills you with revulsion, down to the very bedrock of your soul.

The thought of it being done to Lily...

You do not consider yourself, by nature, a violent being. No, leave that to the deranged lunatics of the Seventh Circle. As creatures of raw, carnal pleasure, the incubi and succubi tend to prefer victories that leave even your enemies writhing at their feet in subjugated bliss, if at all possible.

But not this time. Not with this foe. Just from that short conversation, you know instinctively that no compromise can be trusted, not with a being of such malicious spite. If you want to permanently deal with the threat she poses, it will require far more drastic measures.

You don't know yet how you're going to accomplish it. In terms of power, the entity you just spoke to is so far beyond you that it's absurd. But then, direct power was never, ever the strength that you relied on from the very beginning. You trick. You convince. You manipulate. You find the angles.

Your enemy is a goddess. But you know goddesses can die.

And someday, somehow, you are going to kill kill Melca.

But that's the future. Right now you have immediate concerns, and time is of the essence. You snatch a ring of keys off a nearby peg in the wall, and after a few tries, you find the one that unlocks the Oracle's manacles. You lift her in your arms—her frail body painfully light—and carry her out into the hallway, toward the side door you noticed on your way in.

As you suspected, it leads to a tiny stone cell. Doubtless where they keep Ioni when she isn't performing her duties in the ritual chamber. You ease her down into one of the corners, not visible from the outside. Then you whisper for her to wait there, while you deal with Lady Eshosi. She manages to give you a weak nod in reply. With a parting kiss to her forehead, you shut the door again and head back to the ritual chamber.

There you lock yourself into the manacles. You shapeshift into the Oracle. And you wait.

The lack of vision is unsettling, as you hang there in the silence. Your facsimile of the ritual spikes through the eyes does not cause you any pain, but between that and the bandages, this form still doesn't have any eyesight. You did make your hands slightly smaller than even the real Ioni's, though. Just enough that you should be able to slip the manacles should the need arise.

Minute after minute goes by, until at last you hear a single set of approaching footsteps. The door to the stone chamber screeches open, and someone enters. They don't spare so much as a single word to you beforehand, instead going straight to the ritual. Offering the same prayers you did—to which you mimic Ioni's shaky response.

The female voice speaking them shows no sign of hesitation or doubt, her inflections animated with the breathless zeal of a true believer. From what the real Oracle told you, Lady Eshosi does this on a daily basis, and yet the fervent yearning in her voice shows no hint that this is routine for her. When she recites the Scripture, it's with kind of ecstatic passion most would reserve for a lover.

And when she takes up the whip and turns it on you, you can feel that same frenzy in every blow.

Lady Eshosi strikes with vicious force, showing no sign of restraint. Nor do you have the benefit of the boon you gave to Ioni. She lays into you, the barbs biting deep into your skin, shredding your flesh and sending blood flying. You cry out as Ioni did, even as you focus on your shapeshifting, using your control over your own form to stay exactly as you are, preventing your regeneration from kicking in and giving you away.

Then you hear the footsteps walking back around, and your tormentor kneels before you. "Oh Dread Melca the Twin-Aspected, Goddess of Suffering and Thorns!" she breathes. "May your whim bestow on us unworthy insects the knowledge to strike at our enemies! And may you find some small entertainment in our killing and our dying, as we work to bring forth the full measure of your bounty for this world!"

You tense your body, your muscles twisting and straining to match what you saw happen to Ioni. Then you slump, hanging limp in the chains for several seconds... before slowly raising your head again. "Speak, supplicant," you says, mimicking that echoing, sonorous voice as best you can. "What answers do you beg from your goddess?"

"I seek only to confirm that my path still hews to your will, oh Dread Melca," comes the grovelling reply. "Has any danger arisen that could threaten my design to claim the seat of the Matriarch? My heart yearns to enforce ever-more rigorous observance of your statutes, that the unworthy eyes of my people may see the terror of your glory!"

And with that, you see your opening. "There is a threat, my servant," you intone. "But it is not a threat from the enemies you expect. It is betrayal. Betrayal from one you have given too much trust. My High Priestess has proven herself disobedient. Even now she schemes against you, secretly compelling this Oracle to tell her the details of your consultations. She plans to use your secrets to destroy you, after she has bled you dry and you are no longer of use to her."

You hear a short intake of breath from Lady Eshosi. "That... that heretic!" she snarls. "To abuse the office you bestowed upon her!"

"Indeed..." you say. "She must be dealt with. And there is no one I trust more than you to execute my vengeance for this transgression. To be my scourge against their perfidy." Even without eyesight, you can feel Lady Eshosi puff up under the praise, and you decide to lay it on even thicker. "In fact... once the rot infecting my Church has been expunged... I will need to replace them with new representatives. Including a new High Priestess. One who has proven faithful to my decrees."

"Oh, greatest of all goddess!" You hear a frantic rustle of clothes, telling your sensitive ears that the drow has prostrated herself reverently. "I am ever your devoted servant! I... I will do everything in my power to live up to this great honor and responsibility!"

Perfect. Merely inciting a feud between the leaders would have been a grievous blow in its own right. But by inflaming the twisted combination of Lady Eshosi's zeal and ego, you're causing her to see herself as a reformer, a herald of an entirely new order. And the more she becomes a threat to the very foundations of the entire Church's power structure, the more they will be forced to side with their corrupt High Priestess, and against their former allies in the nobility.

After all... why settle for a mere clash when you can goad them into a full-blown religious schism?

You spend the next few minutes expertly feeding her desperate desire to serve the goddess she thinks is talking to her... along with her equally desperate desire to prove herself a servant superior to all the faithless, lukewarm pretenders she sees in everyone else. You whip up her emotions until she's eating out of your hand, certain that her deity is revealing a grand destiny to her.

"Now heed these next words carefully, my servant," you say, as you start wrapping up. "This Oracle I am speaking through knows the evidence of the High Priestess' crimes, and she is complicit in them. You must go quickly and find reliable soldiers. Trust no one in this Shrine. Once you have such a fighting force, return here and take the Oracle into your custody. I am confident that you can extract the information you require from her."

Then you lean in closer, injecting a note of warning in your voice. "But you must be swift. And attract no attention. If the High Priestess even suspects that you are investigating her crimes, the first thing she will do is eliminate the Oracle, and attempt to cover it up. If that happens, your only chance to salvage your destiny will be to seize the records she keeps, before she can destroy those as well." You don't actually know that the High Priestess keeps such records... but given the sheer volume of information that the Oracle must be giving to her—and its value—it's a good bet.

"I will!" says Lady Eshosi. "I will be swift, my goddess! I will depart immediately!" And suiting action to words she darts for the door—though not before abasing herself three more times. For some time you simply wait there, until her rapid footsteps disappear from even your superhuman hearing.

Then a smirk crosses your face. You slip the manacles and walk out into the hallway, turning your blinded eyes in the direction of the door at the far end. Now you just need to get Ioni out of here. And the biggest obstacle will be the pair of guards on the other side of that door.

Which means that it's time to get a little reckless.

Picking up speed, you race down the hallway, bursting through the door. If you could have seen it, you imagine the expression on the guards' faces would have been priceless. The blind, abused, chained-up young Oracle they were supposed to be guarding suddenly darts past them, faster than they can react. You swerve left, racing deeper into the Shrine, your footsteps echoing on the stone. Even blind, your senses are superhuman enough that you can have a strong sense of your surroundings, and you can also hear the two startled guards as they recover and chase after you.

Soon you round a corner, passing momentarily out of your pursuers' sight. You immediately shapeshift into another high-ranking drow—one you saw on your way in—and reverse course. You collide head-on with the guards as they round the corner themselves, the impact sending all three of you stumbling.

"What is the meaning of this?" you shout in an outraged voice, pointing in the direction you were just running. "Was that just the Oracle I saw run past me? How could you two be so inept as to let her escape? You will be flayed alive if you do not recover her before the High Priestess learns of this!"

The guards—now even more terrified—run past you at breakneck pace. You, on the other hand, walk back to the door they've now left unattended. As you walk, you yank one of the smaller tapestries off the wall, pulling it behind you as you head for Ioni's cell. The girl raises her head again as you enter.

"No time to explain," you say. "I need to conceal you. Just trust me, this is our best shot." The Oracle is clearly befuddled, but she allows you to lift her slight frame and roll the fabric around her. Then you lift the bundle under your arm, quickly exiting the way you came.

You avoid most direct scrutiny on the way out, but you know that you'll need to make it past the guards at the Shrine entrance. Rather than try to avoid their attention, though, you walk toward them confident and fearless, timing and positioning your approach so that you first attract the attention of the one that—to your expert gaze—seems least confident.

His brow furrows as you approach, tapestry under your arm. "Uh... ma'am?" he says hesitantly. "What are you doing with that tapestry?"

"Taking it for restoration, obviously!" you snap, directing a look of such affronted scorn at the man that he quails before you. "Were you not told? Or do you really mean to suggest that I would make improper use of such a treasured relic? In such an obvious way? The High Priestess will hear of your impertinence!"

"No!" the male drow says, bowing before you. "No, your Eminence! I apologize, I... it was wrong of me to question you. Please forgive my offense."

You sniff, stalking past them contemptuously. The others make no move to challenge you, falling in line as they see the first guard crumble. You walk right out the front door, and into the streets beyond.

Ditching the tapestry is your first priority. Once you're out of sight you duck deep into a side alley and toss that part of your burden aside. You hide Ioni while you find a different, less conspicuous covering, eventually stealing a blanket from an unsuspecting laundry line. You also steal a lamp and some oil before you return, which you use to set the tapestry alight, burning the evidence.

Then you bundle Ioni in the blanket, transform into a different drow, and emerge out onto the main thoroughfare once again... just in time to see a large armed group running toward the Shrine. The warriors are led by a female drow in rich robes, who you suspect is Lady Eshosi. They cluster menacingly around the guards at the entrance, until the High Priestess herself emerges. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We must speak with the Oracle!" says the well-dressed drow, and her voice does indeed match the one you remember from the ritual chamber. "We demand to take her for questioning!"

The High Priestess flinches in embarrassment. "The... Oracle?" she says. "I... I cannot do that. She... she has... fled her cell. We're still trying to recapture her."

"You expect me to believe that?" Lady Eshosi says incredulously. "You're just getting rid of the evidence! We know that you were spying on the Oracle's sacred consultations!"

The High Priestess splutters, caught off-guard by the unexpected—and true—accusation. "Wha...? That's... preposterous! This is... this is all a setup! You traitorous whore, you're trying to find an excuse to get rid of me!"

Lady Eshosi draws her sword, a long, curved blade. As one, all her subordinates follow suit. "Stand aside, traitor," she says. "We will conduct a search of the premises, before you can destroy anything else that incriminates you."

"You overstep yourself!" the High Priestess shouts, raising her hands and channeling fire to her palms, even as the guards on her side also draw their blades. "I will not allow some puffed-up politician to dictate terms to me, not here on the ground Melca has claimed for her own!"

"Hah! It is I who have Dread Melca's favor! Not you, and not your corrupt clergy! You will all face the consequences of your indolence and impiety!"

"You lunatic! Heretic!"

Whistling innocently, you turn and walk away, your delicate cargo held bundled in your arms. You don't even look back as the sounds of violence erupt behind you, blade clashing against blade, screams of rage and pain mingling together. You even hear several thunderous explosions and blasts of searing flame... but you just keep on walking, as the sounds of all-out war fill the courtyard of Melca's shrine.

It isn't long before you reunite with your allies, all of them hiding behind one of the young mage's illusions again at the rendezvous point. They are also joined by a new arrival: an elf. He glances over at you with a mild, faded look, as though he's not all "there". It's always hard to tell with elves... but you suspect that this man is quite elderly indeed, even for one of their kind.

You raise an eyebrow. "Is he the prisoner Lady Mykra was holding?"

Khaytala nods. "The only one," she says, in a tone that suggests she doesn't know what to make of it any more than you do.

"Looks like you picked up something as well?" Verika asks, indicating the rolled-up blanket. You oblige her curiosity by rolling back the blanket a little, revealing the tortured Oracle beneath. Verika's eyes widen, and then she looks up at you, shocked.

"She helped me," you say, simply and quietly. "She helped me a great deal. I promised her I would get her out of that shithole in return."

Verika's expression softens, and she looks down at the girl again for a few moments. When she finally glances back up at you, there's a different look in her eyes. A bit less tense. Like she's seeing you in a new light. "I understand," she says. "Let's get everyone back to the camp. We can talk more there."

You escape the city much as you did before, eventually returning to your now-familiar cave. Belan is horrified when you unroll the blanket completely, revealing the full extent of Ioni's scars and injuries. The young healer immediately takes charge, and you lay her down on her front in front of him. He starts reciting a spell, and soon his hand is glowing with a warm green light, which he places gently on Ioni's back, running it up and down. The girl lets out a small, grateful sigh as the magic takes effect.

Rising to you feet, you look down at the blind girl. Verika approaches from behind, moving to stand next to you, looking down at the girl as well, her own expression troubled. You stand there in silence for a while... until you judge the time right to raise another question with her.