I hadn't slept long—only three or four hours. When I awoke, I felt well rested. Apparently, being nourished by the phoenix's creatures (I even tried not to call them slugs, they were too disgusting) had had a positive effect on my body. It was just a shame that the regeneration had left dark scars. And now, having pulled a small chair out of my little room and sprawled out in it, I looked with displeasure at my left arm, which had turned almost black all the way to the elbow. I had only pulled on boots and pants. I'd sent my four priestesses to bed, and at the moment, only Eirin and a couple of priests from the Golden Guard were guarding me. But while the latter were truly busy protecting my precious body, keeping an eye on the surroundings and watching with wary eyes the rare soldiers or mages going about their business, the vampiress was literally devouring me with a devoted and passionate gaze.
The chair I was sitting in was quite uncomfortable, so I had to cover it with a piece of rather beautiful fabric with a curious texture and prop it up against the wall of the building that, before our arrival, had housed the quarters of the local guard officers. From where I sat, I had a view of the ruins of the Ishakshi suburb. Every now and then, a shadow would flit among them, but if it weren't ours, the conversation among the duty mages would have been brief: a couple of weak mass-effect spells, and that would be it. I could also see a column of the dead—about two thousand of them had survived the battle and were now herded into one large crowd. The undead would occasionally emit a variety of simple sounds, from groans to short growls or wheezes. Sometimes I thought they were talking to each other—what's wrong with Akhesh? The undead were controlled by two or three dozen senior priestesses—I simply couldn't be bothered to count the priestesses and Atretas priests strutting around the crowd of undead. If I'd been asked, I'd have told them to put them to rest completely and not bother with their control. They were useless in an open confrontation anyway. But Eltruun was currently in charge of the parade, and venturing into her henhouse (or viper den) would mean making an enemy out of nothing. On the other hand (I remembered this from a previous life), the soldiers guarding the camp needed at least some variety. Ugh. I already have a split personality because of the elemental, and with this argument, I'll earn myself a real breakdown...
Sighing, I rose from my chair and went to the bedroom to get the bhatell, but after I sat back down, Aerisnitari appeared from around the corner and, approaching, asked:
- Have you rested yet, Asheras?
"I'm glad to see you," I chuckled in response and, starting to clean the bhatell, added: "Surprisingly, I've fully regained my strength."
Having torn a handful of black pellets from the fruit's interior and popped one into my mouth, I looked at my ancestor. I can't even imagine calling this incredibly beautiful and stately woman "grandmother." Human grandmothers are old, wrinkled, and sit on benches, but for Eldar—both Light and Dark—it's not unusual for your great-great-great-grandfather to look better than his distant descendants. True, while humans say age is revealed by the neck, for Eldar it's the eyes. The older the Eldar, the more piercing their gaze, which, like an invisible hand, probes, weighs, and compares with a vast bank of memory and life experience. I wonder if it's true that after five thousand years, a member of our people voluntarily enters the Darkness? It's more likely a joke or a legend. In all recorded history, not a single Athar has lived to even half that age. In the entire existence of our aggressive civilization, only a dozen Orin and a couple of Atretases have survived to this age: Irenthel at Khitan and Sherot at A'seatr, who earned the right to a connecting prefix in their names for their service to their Houses... But for the Light Ones, this list is much, much longer. Needless to say, the ruler of the Blue Forest, Illuil ri Se, will soon turn five and a half thousand years old—an unattainable age for the Athar...
It seemed I hadn't been paying attention to my facial expression while these thoughts were racing through my head, and Aerisnitari was able to read my emotions without any difficulty. She approached me and asked softly:
- Did something happen?
An unfamiliar high priestess appeared from behind her, holding a folding camp chair. She quickly unfolded it and, like an orin in our House, vanished into the Darkness. The ancient Atar sat gracefully next to me. Now that's what I call power. I still have a lot to learn to accept everything around me as self-evident.
"No, really. It's just that, looking at you, the great priestess of our House, standing against the backdrop of ruined Ishakshi, I suddenly realized the frailty and fragility of existence."
We were silent for a while, gazing at the distant ruins, illuminated by a ghostly light. Somewhere in the distance, wisps of smoke rose. And silence, occasionally broken by the groan of a dead man, the short roar of a hisna, the creak of finely tanned leather, and the clank of weapons. The camp, surprisingly, made very little extraneous noise. However, now was the time for sleep and rest...
"Did you want something?" I decided to break the prolonged silence.
But the ancient woman remained silent, still gazing at the ruins. Finally, when I was beginning to wonder who knows what and motioned to the vampire, sending her for another fruit, she spoke:
"Those eighty years of slavery were very difficult. Much of what happened then seemed hazy to me... And now I'm even glad about that. But I remember some things quite clearly."
I strained my ears, trying not to miss a single word.
"The illithids collaborated with more than just the Sixth Temple. There was someone else... Yes... His name was Hetros. He was not from our world. The illithids feared and respected him." Aerisnitari's face became like a porcelain mask, and her eyes did not see the ruins. It seemed she was wandering in her own terrible memories of the past decades. "I never saw him because he terribly hated the Dark Eldar, and the Athar in particular, and whenever he saw a slave of our people who happened to catch his eye, he killed them without a second thought. The illithids valued me and hid me when he appeared." Her voice suddenly wavered. "You don't know, and you can't know... While I was enslaved, I had a daughter. A pure-blooded Athar."
Thoughts raced through my head like mad bees. What if she's dead? Killed in the fire? Or will she run into the priestesses somewhere now and die? But Aerisnitari added, almost calmly, her voice unexpectedly muffled:
"They brought her as a gift to Hetros, but he only said he'd be much happier if Erruu devoured her before his eyes. I saw everything, but I couldn't do anything... And I didn't want to... But how it hurts now!..."
Dead. Something made a pitiful squelching sound in my hand. Looking up, I realized I'd crushed the bhatell Eirin had brought. Thick, black juice ran down my hand like blood. After a brief silence, the ancient woman continued:
"Here's what I think: this Hetros has great power, and therefore, is a rather dangerous enemy of our people…"
- Do you want revenge?
Suddenly, Aerisnitari hissed through her teeth:
– Yes!
I sighed:
- And what is required of me?
– We need information, which means a prisoner!
Bowing my head to my right shoulder, I drawled:
- Well... We already have a couple of hundred prisoners...
"We need captured illithids, not their slaves!" she almost growled.
- Think about it: well, I caught a couple of these creatures - if not in the palace, then outside the city - but how are you going to interrogate the illithid?
She bared her teeth predatorily:
"There are ways... If worst comes to worst, we have a couple of Ehayalin's Arirs, and they're quite good at loosening tongues... And if not, we'll call on one of Elos's children." She even began to breathe heavily with anticipation. "O-o-o... Let them keep quiet a little longer..."
Tossing the crushed fruit aside, I licked the black juice from my hand. Behind me, someone swallowed loudly. Aerisnitari finally tore herself away from her contemplation of Ishaksha's panorama and, turning her head toward me, said:
- Asheras, you should pay attention to your creation, otherwise she'll choke on drool when she looks at you...
- A?
"Just don't tell me you didn't see that she's not indifferent to you…" the ancient one chuckled.
- But I'm a minor!
"The only limit to an Atar's development is his mind—you already look like a ten-year-old. And that's right at the very edge of puberty." She chuckled cheerfully. "Oh, I remember how, when I came of age, I spent a week in the Ari's sanctuary of Rea! Imagine twenty naked Ari's dancing in the darkness. Their bodies illuminated only by the light emitted by their own weapons. And what Arisna did! Burst into the Matriarch's personal yeash with a steel cock in her hand! People still remember her!"
With difficulty, I picked up my slack jaw and mumbled:
- And does this happen to everyone?
Aerisnitari became serious again:
"A hormonal storm is no joke. But it passes quickly: a couple of weeks and you'll be back in action. A cold heart, a clear mind, and unwavering faith—for some, in their own strength, for others, in a goddess..."
- So there's no way to deal with hormones?
"There are methods, but they are very painful. They are used rarely and only during foreign wars and kahrte."
"What is this?" I asked curiously.
"Kahrte? This is a conflict within Alveristas territory. Powerful spells are not used there. They are limited to the second circle of Elements and the fifth level of Powers. And you yourself know there's nothing serious there. The five Great Houses and six Temples enforce this law. Those who disobey will face inevitable punishment. And if it's only a monetary penalty, it's a good thing, but it could even lead to the destruction of the guilty party; there have been several such cases in history. And the last one happened to us..." Aerisnitari's expression darkened. "Upon arrival at the House, we must remember to select another teacher for you—one for weapons. I wonder if Eltruun will agree—in light of recent events? Your father was supposed to be your teacher, but, sadly, that's no longer possible... Just think—of all Eltruun's many students, all perished, leaving behind not a single successor! I hope she doesn't become despondent." Eltruun is the banner of our Atretas. You've seen it yourself—they obey her every command without question." Atar chuckled again, and as she spoke the next words, I heard a note of pride in her voice. "She likes you, and that's a good sign..." Rising from her chair, she looked at me. "Try to do what I asked; it's important not just for me, but for all of us."
– I will do everything in my power.
The ancient nodded in farewell, and her graceful figure vanished into the darkness. The high priestess emerged from around the corner, folded up her camp stool, and hurried after her mistress.
I turned my gaze to the central hive. I need to think... Behind me, they swallowed loudly again. "Better by hand," the phoenix hissed contentedly. "And even better, give her our blood. Such beauty is worth the sacrifice. And then we can think calmly about eternity, and she'll enjoy it."
Well, well...
* * *
Xaten. He was created by Ashereth A'troth, but for what purpose, even Elos didn't know.
The High Council of the Houses had met in Xaten for thirty thousand years, since the very birth of Alveristas and the Great Houses. Xaten was a massive five-pointed star, suspended above an abyss of darkness and crafted from a pure black magical onyx. At the star's corners were five statues, meticulously depicting naked high priestesses, their slightly bent right arms and faces raised skyward. Each statue stood thirty to thirty-five meters tall and was made of smoky dark glass, symbolizing the Darkness within each priestess. Between their outstretched palms, a gigantic crystal glowed with a bright blue light. It was elongated and pointed, with a huge number of small facets. The light emanated from several strange, bright clumps trapped within its depths. These clumps of energy slowly moved within the crystal, causing the light to seem to pulsate slightly. Enormous black diamonds were set into the statues' eyes, reflecting the crystal's light and seeming to glow with an ominous fire. The play of light and shadow brought the statues to life. It seemed as if the statues were looking down, frowning or smiling, their hair and bodies moving slightly.
Beneath the statues' feet stood beautiful black sofas with golden legs, intended for the five Matriarchs of the Great Houses. Behind the sofas, at the statues' feet, were small chairs, usually occupied by the Athar closest to their Matriarch. In the spaces between the statues were chairs with tables, at which sat the high servants of the five gods: Ichithos, the god of Mad Laughter; Rhea, the goddess of Fierce Battle; Akrio, the goddess of Bloody Passion; Echaialin, the goddess of Cold Fear; and Kriata, the goddess of Eternal Sorrow. The Arirs of the Temple of the Great Goddess of Darkness, Elos, were absent from the Council because the Sixth Temple did not exist when the Council was formed, and it was believed that all present were already conduits of her will. The high Arirs act as judges between the Great Houses. It is no secret that the five Matriarchs experience different feelings for each other - from maternal love and sexual desire to feelings of rivalry and outright hatred.
Xathen was attached to the cliffs by enormous chains and a single, narrow, graceful magical walkway. Suicide by jumping from Xathen or the bridge was impossible—the Darkness itself would push the unfortunate back. There was even a saying in Alveristas: "To end one's life by jumping from Xathen," which meant engaging in a pointless act. Sometimes they would say, "You might as well jump from Xathen!" or (if referring to someone else), "He's jumping from Xathen."
A massive five-pointed star floating in a gigantic rocky well filled with Darkness... One of the most mysterious and forbidden places on this world... In the last Eldar war, the Light Eldar failed to capture the temple complex and, consequently, Xaten, located at its center. Having lost half their combined army in street battles with the temple guard, they only managed to capture the territory of I'si'tor and the "Border of Darkness." And then, realizing that the Dark Eldar army, hastily returning from the campaign, would crush them like a hammer crushes a piece of lead on an anvil, they retreated. Although it looked more like a panicked flight. The chronicles of the Light Eldar record that only one in ten returned from that campaign.
Xathen. The Soul of Alveristas. Surrounded by a dense ring of six Temples and five Great Houses, it was perhaps the most protected place in Heiresh.
* * *
The announcement of the High Council of Houses caught Taenori off guard. Frankly, she hadn't been looking forward to attending what was likely her last Council. Especially since the I'si'tor had no allies, meaning all the other Matriarchs were practically enemies. But why "almost"? Enemies they were... For the last several thousand years, the Sixth Temple had been stirring up the Darkness with proxy hands, gradually turning the entire city against the I'si'tor. Why? That much was clear—after the Great House's destruction, the Supreme Ari'r of the Sixth Temple, Akrista, was planning to occupy its black couch. And that said it all. Millennia of persecution, economic disruption, constant set-ups, bribery of Atretas officers, murders, an alliance with the Illiti—all of it aimed solely at freeing that coveted couch...
The Great Houses were positioned so as to be at almost equal distances from it. The I'si'tor Column was the largest and most beautiful. This was only one of the many reasons the Sixth Temple had targeted it. The main one was hatred. Who would have thought that, long ago, the Sixth Temple had merely been jealous of the goddess's favored servants? But that jealousy had long ago grown into something more sinister. The Sixth Temple's influence had grown so great that Acrista openly attended the Council, albeit only in the guest seat located in the Khitan sector. As if it weren't enough for her to already know every word spoken there.
Taenori shrugged. These Councils drove her to hysterics—she often barely made it home. It was very difficult, being the youngest Atar priestess present at the Council. The oppressive atmosphere. The condescending and ironic glances. Every word Taenori uttered at the Council was met with spears. Previously, Matriarch I'si'tor had thought she could influence anything in domestic or foreign policy. This only deepened her disappointment. Now Taenori knew she was only attending the Council for show.
The unification of the Steppe and the obvious support of the dwarves for the orcs are on the agenda. Ha! Orcs and dwarves! If someone had uttered that phrase a thousand years ago, they would have been drowned in the Darkness of the Bottomless Well for half an hour... And then there are these strange reports from the empire and the kingdoms... Why shouldn't the Council declare martial law and send an ahresht to conduct a reconnaissance mission... They would have also recruited slaves. Okay, okay, an ahresht is too much, but reconnaissance needs to be sent now... However, the Steppe and the Zaor Empire are far away... And no one will listen to her, they'll only laugh at her... Taenori glanced sideways at Akesh Khitan. The Matriarch of the First House was enthusiastically discussing the prospects of an orcish alliance with anyone. Yeah, and some might even insult her. And you can't respond. For now. Maybe she should send reconnaissance herself?
While the Matriarchs and High Arir discussed the matters of the meeting, Taenori, as if caught in a vacuum, recalled the messages from Eltruun. "Final preparations are being completed." The Matriarch smiled involuntarily. Her mother, Elviaran, and Asheras with their daughters (!) would arrive soon. And money. Lots of money. It was still unclear which was more important... For the last eighty-odd years, Y'si'tor had eked out a miserable existence. The problem was that the invaders had not only looted the entire treasury, but also all the promissory notes, amounting to a whopping five million gold pieces. As a result, the otherwise well-off Great House had sunk to near-poverty—to the level of Houses in their thirties. How had the five of them managed to survive the first ten years? They were even careful in bed – the House couldn't afford the pregnancy of any of its high priestesses... Remembering that time, Taenori gritted her teeth – Sarieharna had been there all that time. Supporting, advising, warming... And how pleasant it had been to fall asleep on his chest!.. Corrupt creature... Could it all have been a lie? What could they have promised him? Who? But Sarieharna only laughs during torture.
Or maybe he was promised a transfer to another Great House? What's the matter? He's not a priestess, which means it's possible with the Temples' support... And then you sense the viscous shadow of Akrista.
Wherever you look, there are her lackeys. At least the High Arir of the other Temples maintain neutrality or simply trail behind, not asserting their will. Sometimes Taenori thought they feared Akrista's further rise... And some of the High Arir even allowed the Athar of I'si'tor to secretly study in their Temples. What can I say—almost all of them! With the exception of the Temple of Akrio—this capricious goddess could not be controlled. Rumor had it that she had said outright, appearing in her sanctuary: "Those who cannot survive even with the direct support of my mother (Elos) are not worthy of existence."
Taenori felt someone's gaze and, looking up, saw Akrista staring at her thoughtfully. She wondered if she knew what had happened to Ishakshi. The fact that this city was far from Alveristas didn't matter much—the illithids could contact their own kind at any time, even from halfway around the world. Incidentally, those vile clumps of tentacles had disappeared from the city streets for two days now, concentrating instead in their own quarter. They were plotting something... They probably took the destruction of their capital as a sign of a break in the alliance between them and the Sixth Temple. This was another reason Taenori didn't want to go to the Council. But not going would show blatant disrespect to the other Matriarchs and provoke a new round of kahrte. Yes, Asheras would arrive soon, but the House must wait for that moment...
Matriarchs. They embodied immense power in their Houses and equally incredible beauty. Graceful creatures. As beautiful as they were deadly... They wore minimal clothing, designed to highlight the whiteness of their bare skin against the black velvet upholstery of the sofas. Jewelry was at a premium—for example, the attire of Arun, Matriarch of the Fourth House of Sath, probably didn't contain a shred of fabric.
But finally, that bitch Akech got tired of lounging on the couch and arguing with Satru, the Matriarch of House A'seatr. She rose decisively and, with a sharp wave of her hand, uttered the ritual phrase for the end of the Council:
– From ni ilre kahnuth (This concludes the Council).
Glancing at the other Matriarchs to see if anyone had any final words, she made a smooth motion with her left hand, confirming what she had said, and turning, she stepped out into the large passageway located between the legs of the statue towering above her.
Taenori was the second-to-last to leave Xaten. Pausing momentarily to let a large group of Arir hurry past, she heard a quiet voice from behind:
- Watch out...
She turned around in surprise and saw Matriarch Kahrisa of the Third House standing behind her. Taenori looked into her eyes in surprise, and she suddenly added:
– Information has reached me that they are going to kill you.
- Who?
Kahrisa, looking behind Taenori, hissed:
"For someone half-dead, you ask too many questions. What don't you understand? Akesh has decided to take revenge on you for the death of her daughter. Don't even think about going to your guards—without them, you still have a chance to escape..."
"Chances? What are you talking about? If I don't show up on the streets of Alveristas dressed as the Matriarch, I'll die even sooner than in an ambush!"
"I'll tell you straight: the Council lasted only as long as your Atretases were slaughtered. Having received confirmation, Akesh ended it immediately. As soon as you leave the temple complex, you will be seized. I don't need to tell you what will happen to you after that. My priests have arranged for your escort. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to even exchange a few words, and they would have helped you escape straight into the hands of Akrista and Akesh."
- But…
"There's no time to argue." A shadow thickened behind Kahrisa, and the Matriarch took the black bundle from her. "Take this! These are the clothes of the Arir Kriata. Change quickly in the alcove and run. Don't stop. Your House is probably already surrounded—you won't be able to break through. I would advise you to break out of the city and escape. Perhaps even to the surface or to the naga." Kahrisa thought for a moment, but, looking up, hissed, "What are you waiting for? Hurry!"
Taenori hesitated and immediately began to change her clothes, saying:
- Thank you.
In response, Kakhrisa smiled sadly:
- You're welcome for now...
After which she turned and headed towards one of the exits.
The bundle contained a cloak with a deep hood, laced leather trousers with an empty scabbard, and high, soft-soled boots with no heels. That's all. No jacket, no weapons, no money. While changing, Taenori tried to contact the guards and someone from the House, but neither answered. This fact dispelled all doubts and spurred the priestess to strip off her jewelry even faster. Wrapping them in a scrap of fabric, she hid it in one of the inner pockets of her cloak and, wrapping herself tightly around herself, quickly walked toward the Temple of Kriata, rightly figuring that there she would be able to blend in with the Arira and escape the temple complex. The Matriarch was afraid to use any concealment or camouflage spells—what could be stranger than an Arira of Kriata concealing its presence in the temple complex? Taenori joined the tail of the group of Ari leaving the Temple and headed towards the exit.
Surprisingly, this part of the plan worked. Somewhere in the distance, barked commands in the Language of Death could be heard, and Taenori slipped into a narrow alley between some buildings. Here, she was surprised to find a multitude of diverse creatures watching with interest the events unfolding outside. Running further down the long alley, Taenori almost burst into the square in front of the temple complex's main entrance. She cautiously peered around the corner and froze in amazement, watching the unfolding spectacle.
The square was completely littered with the bodies of her House's Atretas and the corpses of the Hysn. Wounded Eldar cried out here and there. Nearby, a panther with its belly ripped open twitched in its death throes. Past her, two Atretas with the red insignia of Khitan on their shoulders dragged a priestess in Y'si'tor uniform by the arms. Her legs were missing—blood sluggishly flowed from the crooked stumps, soaking the street tiles. The priestess, groaning loudly, turned her head toward the alley and saw Taenori, instantly recognizing her despite her clothing. She obviously wanted to say or do something immediately, but one of Khitan's soldiers turned sharply and, with a swift blow of his curved sword, severed her arms and head, surprising his comrade. With a dramatic flourish, he threw the severed limb to the ground and, shouting something in irritation, turned away, heading toward a group of other Khitan Atretases. The severed head slowly rolled toward the alleyway and stared straight at Taenori with glassy, accusatory eyes. At the sight, someone nearby began to vomit. The matriarch backed away, pulling her cloak even tighter around her, and moved deeper into the alleyway.