Out of the Shadows, Part 18
You raise your head, your eyes narrowing as you gaze at the tortured young girl, and the entity puppeting her. Melca is smirking with Ioni's lips, as she continues to speak. "What do you wish to learn from me, hellspawn? A way to turn the tables on your mistress, perhaps? So you can slip your leash and fuck her until she is your whore as well? Or perhaps you seek the vulnerabilities of your other prey? If you're having trouble with young Ravahorn, I know some delicious weaknesses of hers that—"
"Why Lily?" you interrupt. "Why did you go to all that trouble, just to install someone with no experience on the throne of Kovora?" No experience and no desire to serve Melca's sadistic whim, though you choose not to remind the goddess of the latter part.
Melca pauses, than lets out a disappointed huff. "That's all you want to know?" she asks. "The girl is of the ruling bloodline. A direct descendant of the woman I made a bargain with so long ago. Swearing herself—and her posterity—to me in exchange for power."
"Then why didn't you just make a new bargain?" you ask. "There shouldn't have been anything to stop you from finding another Chosen One. I'm sure there have to be plenty among your followers who would be willing. Were they all so incompatible? Was it really easier to search the whole world for years, looking for one little girl hidden in a convent?"
Melca doesn't immediately reply, instead regarding you in silence for a moment. When she finally speaks, you can hear disdain in her voice. "And why is her fate so important to you, that you would spend your one question on her? Don't tell me you actually care for the little wretch?"
"It's the responsibility of a summon to look after their summoner's well-being," you say neutrally. "I'm enjoying this chance to corrupt mortals here on the Material Plane. And I have no interest in returning to the Second Circle until I have more souls to show for it."
"Really." You can hear skepticism dripping from the word. Then Melca twists the Oracle's face into a cruel, sneering smirk. "Well then, hellspawn. If you truly wish to understand what makes your mistress so special, it's an easier thing to show than tell. And it may even provide some more... motivation... for your efforts against those heroines, if you truly understand what your precious 'Lily' has at stake in this conflict."
She beckons you closer with the finger of Ioni's right hand, then twists it in the manacles to hold it palm-outward. You step forward, not letting her see any hesitation, and place your matching hand against hers, thankfully the one that does not have the brand. You don't want to advertise that to her any more than you have to.
The world twists around you, and suddenly the cramped stone room around you is no longer visible. You don't think your physical body has been moved... but you can tell that this is no mere illusion. Instead, your perception itself has been displaced, allowing you to observe events from somewhere else entirely. All so that Melca can show you what she wants you to see.
You stand in a huge courtyard that extends in every direction, its worked stone hard beneath your feet. A moonless, starless night fills the sky above you. And surrounding you on every side, you see row upon row upon row of upright steel coffins.
Under each and every one, a raging flame howls up from a hole in the ground, filling those claustrophobic enclosures entirely with a searing inferno that bursts out of the various small chinks and viewing holes in the metal. Those gouts of fire are the only thing to escape from the coffins.
And the constant, suffocating stench of burning meat.
And the screams.
And over all of it, looming in the darkness, the sense of a vast shape. A formless presence that was bathing in those endless, hopeless shrieks of suffering, torn from uncountable throats. Reveling in their wailing pleas for mercy with an unquenchable, primal glee.
The sheer unfathomable weight of the torture hits you like a hammer right to the stomach. Your senses as an incubus are attuned to drink in the sensation of debauched pleasure from mortals, not pain. But encountering such a bottomless abyss of agony feels as though you've ingested acid—as though it's corroding your soul from the inside out. You jerk back, reeling away until you slam into the far wall, gasping for breath. The vision cuts off, ending as soon as you break your connection with the Oracle.
That wasn't anywhere in this physical world—of that you're certain. That was a glimpse into Melca's divine realm. You clench your hands into fists to hide their trembling, horror and anger swirling inside you until you can barely tell one from the other. "What the fuck was that?" you demand. In that moment, even your composure cracks visibly. "Don't tell me those were—"
"Souls." The smile on the Oracle's stolen face is as smug as any you've ever seen, and you can tell that Melca is pleased with the effect that had on you. "To be precise... the souls of all the past Witch Queens who failed me. Suffering their due punishment."
You stare at her, incredulous. "That punishment isn't yours to deliver! It hasn't been in the hands of the gods since the last War in Heaven! Souls go to reincarnation, one of the Heavens, or one of the Hells! You all signed the fucking treaty!"
But Melca's smug smile doesn't diminish. "Oh, I am well aware of what the Celestial Treaty says, hellspawn," she says. "I was one of the deities involved in its drafting, after all. And when I saw which way the wind was blowing, I managed to slip in particular language here and there. Language that—when considered together, under very specific circumstances—allows for certain... preexisting arrangements... to still be honored."
It's obvious that she's relishing the chance to gloat about her accomplishment to someone else who understands just how impressive a feat of deception it truly was. Private afterlives run by unhinged, egomaniacal gods and goddesses were one of the things the Celestial Treaty was supposed to put an end to. But despite that, she managed to get hers grandfathered in, preserving the deal she'd made with Lily's ancestor.
And now, in perfect, horrifying clarity, you understand why Melca was willing to go so far to chase down your mistress. Because she isn't just a Chosen One of Melca. She's a Chosen One who can operate under pre-treaty rules. No wonder the Witch Queen is such an incredibly powerful champion; Melca wouldn't have had to jump through nearly the same number of hoops in order to achieve that as she would with almost anyone else.
It staggers belief. And she's held onto this exception since before the signing of the Treaty. Which means... some of those souls in that divine torture chamber have been there for millennia. Suffering with no respite and no chance to be reborn. You lick your lips, then speak again, struggling to keep your voice even. "Lily. You showed that to her. Like you showed me." It isn't a question.
"It was only fair that she know the consequences of failure," observes Melca mildly.
"And... what exactly do you consider 'failure'?" you ask. "What determines whether a Witch Queen is sent to that place or not?"
The goddess laughs. "Why, whether she's dead or not," she says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "As long as she's out there? Doing my will in the mortal world? She hasn't yet failed. I am even generous enough to shield the Witch Queens from old age itself... so long as they retain my favor, that is."
And there it is. The final, terrible nail in the trap that Lily is so hopelessly caught in. The reason why it was impossible for her to ever accept the heroines' offer of surrender. The reason why someone so innocent would summon a demon against her enemies, making a show of corrupting them even while trying to save their lives. Because if she loses Melca's favor, then sooner or later, she will die.
And she's seen the fate waiting for her when she does.
"I trust that we understand each other now, hellspawn," Melca says. "And now that I have indulged your insipid curiosity... I will tell you what I require from you. You will continue to defend my Kovora against the threat of the heroines, of course. But there is another task I have for you, one particularly suited to your degenerate abilities. You will seduce and impregnate your mistress. With a girl."
"And if I don't?"
The smile on the Oracle's face turns ugly. "It has not escaped my attention that the Second Circle is in quite the stir at the moment. The Lust Queen is attempting to conceal it... but I have my sources. And I'm told they are hunting a dangerous criminal, one who actually managed to give the slip to Taharial herself."
With an effort, you keep yourself from giving the slightest reaction, even as Melca continues. "I am also told this particularly capable individual escaped via a summoning. And—by the most curious of coincidences—it happened right around the same time you appeared in our world. Almost as curious as the coincidence that his description matches yours perfectly."
Then all pretense of the mocking smile vanishes. "So fuck a girl into the womb of that cringing little bitch, hellspawn," she snarls. "Do it, and the reward will be generous. But if she isn't pregnant by the time I lose my patience... then the Lust Queen might just learn which world this fugitive she's hunting has escaped to."
And with that, the Oracle shudders, slumping in her chains as the possession ends. You exhale, not letting your control over your expression waver. Just because Ioni has control over her body again doesn't mean that Melca has stopped paying attention to this place.
However, even though your expression is guarded, inside your mind is racing. This is far, far worse than you could have ever imagined. Not once did it even occur to you that Melca could have circumvented the basic principles of the Celestial Realms to this extent—rules that have been in place for far longer than you've existed.
And yet... even as you understand for the first time just how badly the deck is stacked against you, you also discern a few hidden advantages in what you've just learned. It's clear that Melca does not want to give up this special toy to which she's become so accustomed. Which means she will at least be hesitant to cause Lily's death. If her bloodline dies out, Melca will lose the unique opportunity it provides. Forever.
Similarly, if the exception she created is tied to the Witch Queens of Kovora, then you suspect that Melca cannot afford to lose the nation either. If Kovora is conquered by the heroines, then that might ruin her aims as well. If so, then she can ill afford to dispose of her most powerful pieces while the situation is so dire.
Which means you aren't without leverage against her as well.
Then again, it's not something you should rely on. The pride of a goddess like her is a terrible thing... and if you push her too far, she may just decide that the risk of losing her toy is a price worth paying to take her vengeance on you.
Either way, you need to figure out your next step. Even in the face of these earthshaking revelations, you can't forget that Lady Eshosi might arrive at any moment for her own consultation. With everything you've now learned, you need to decide how you want to manipulate her.
You're confident you can make a decent impression of Melca after what you've just observed... but that supernatural dissonance in her voice will be a hard trick to mimic. You decide you don't want to risk drawing too much attention by too many extraordinary pronouncements or demands in a row. One such demand, though... that much you feel confident you can get away with.
The easiest thing to do would be to send Lady Eshosi to some exposed location. You doubt you could convince her to dispense with her guards entirely without arousing suspicion that something is wrong, but you could at least put her in a position were even Relis alone could easily take her out, especially with advance knowledge of where she will be.
Then again, while that might get rid of her in the long term, you doubt that will stop the riot itself at such a late stage, resulting in both danger to you and a bloodbath for the slaves. With what you know now, you could send someone to hunt Lady Eshosi's agent tomorrow... or you could convince her to abandon the plan herself, right here and now.
You could also reveal how the High Priestess has been abusing her position in the Church to spy on Lady Eshosi, hopefully kicking off a conflict between the noble and her power base. While not as final or as certain as an arrow through the skull, it would certainly be damaging, and wouldn't require you to even send Relis tomorrow.
There is, after all, only one more day left before the Festival. And you still have a great deal to do.
Complicating everything even more is that you have no idea what Verika will learn on her mission to investigate the war room, nor what Khaytala and the others will discover after springing the mysterious prisoner from Lady Mykra's custody. What opportunities—or threats—will they expose that you may also wish to devote resources to on your final day of preparation?
You don't know. But you'll have to make your decision as best you can.
