Vraxlyn And The Tower's Secret Song

Darkened skies hung heavy outside of the great and lonely tower. Death had all but arrived for Vraxlyn. A thousand tears had fallen unanswered as she cried out for help within her empty sanctuary. The stench of decomposing corpses from her fallen comrades and the imperial attackers had begun to seep through the air filtration, filling her nose with rot even as she burrowed further and further into the tower’s secretive lower levels.

Weakness was winning. She hadn’t eaten in over a week, and had only found a handful of stagnant watering basins.

Every sound echoed echoed echoed echoed

And she

And she feared closing her eyesclosinghereyes

Abandonment was worse than death. As she endlessly wandered the colossal structure, she wanted nothing more than to find a single living soul that could help her. Time had made her regret instinctively killing the imperials who had tried to kill her. To die was the greatest form of agony and humiliation. That was what her masters had taught her.

ButHerMastersWeren’tThereAnymore

But her masters weren’t there anymore.

She was unwell.

so very Unwell. soveryunwell

Once again, she awoke to find herself sobbing. Pastel grey and gold light cut through the everstorm’s fury, sending cold rays of light into the viewing ports she had collapsed in front of. She watched as tiny flecks of dust drifted in the air, catching the light and exploding into tiny pointed beams of light before fading and drifting away.

She wanted to be dust.

Flicker.

Fade.

Die.

Claws raised to her face and dug in, pulling across skin and ripping flesh open once more. Vraxlyn screamed out in pain.

It had always hurt, but sorrow had made her nerves more frayed. They had taught her to cut and tear herself open whenever she was afraid or enraged. They had taught her to cut and tear herself open whenever she was killing.

They had taught her to do that, but they had never taught her how to survive. Without her cage and restrained existence, she was spiraling into herself.

Death’s curse no longer carried its threatening power over her. Living was worse. This world was too broken for her broken mind. If the empire was truly gone, what was to become of her? She was the one who was left, and nothing more.

Atrophied muscles twitched and failed as Vraxlyn tried to rise.

Her cheekbone struck the tiled floor with a painful echo and she let out a sob of defeat. Voices spoke to her. Voices she knew but didn’t see. Once, they were familiar. Once, they were her masters. But now they hissed and mocked and sneered from inside her mind.

SilenceYourself

ThrowYourselfAway

Unwell

Broken

Cursed

Had they known this was coming? Did her masters abandon her on purpose? Suffering had lasted long enough to dull the contamination of their brainwashing, and the attempt on her life from those she’d thought were allies had done enough damage. As she wasted away, the loyalty to the Silence faded from Vraxlyn just like her strength.

The only Silence she desired anymore was permanent silence.

Whatever those mocking voices were in her mind, she knew they were right. Death would be her escape.

So she once again tried to stand.

Throwing herself from the nearest dock would be better than starving to death. A long fall down to the jagged, snowy peaks far below would be a guarantee that she would fade.

SheWasSoVeryUnwell

They had called her that when she thought she couldn’t hear them. Years passed without her understanding what it meant. SoVeryUnwell. In time, she learned the concept of their name, and in her heart, she agreed.

Vraxlyn had never known a normal existence. Any chance at well versus unwell was snuffed out from the moment her memory began. All she had ever been was a weapon. Chains were embraces. Burns and scars were maternal comforts. Malice was the replacement for the father she didn’t know. In time, she’d begun to doubt if she’d been born or simply manufactured in some secret corner of that tower, bred and blossomed for nothing but slaughter.

None of that mattered anymore, though. It was all gone. Everything was gone, except for her. There were no more tears left to cry, and no more unstable drives of survival and hate that raged strong enough to keep her alive. Even her parade of death-dealing weaponry was now collapsed in the distance, no longer heeding her call.

Metal-coated claws scraped along the polished floor as she snarled in exhaustion, trying to pull her depleted body to the nearest loading bay. When she was a child, they had broken her digits and severed the retraction ligaments so that the claws could never recede. Then they had dipped her paws into liquified steel, forever guaranteeing that those razors would stay exposed.

Sparks danced along the grinding pulls as she tried to reach the distant ledge that offered death’s salvation.

Then the voices returned.

It had been days since she’d heard them. The last time they’d appeared, they had sent waves of light into her body, and when she’d awoken, the wounds from her attackers’ weapons had all but healed. Something about their surreal, feminine sounds had become soothing to her. Maybe it was the healing. Maybe it was the abstract form of company. Regardless, the voices seeped into her shattered mind, soothing the surges of sorrow. Sparks stopped as Vraxlyn paused her pull to oblivion.

“H-Hello? Hello?!” Vraxlyn croaked.

Weakness and dehydration made the words burn in her throat. Or so she assumed, since her throat began to tingle with an ethereal burning, as though some manner of soft fire was being ignited within the dying cords.

The voices continued their haunting song, and another faint wave of light pulsed through the stony exposures of the tower.

“Hello???!!! Please. Vraxlyn is dying. Vraxlyn… I… I… I am Vraxlyn. I need help!” she wept.

Notes shifted. Soothing vocalizations coated her trembling body, and a new voice appeared with more clarity than the rest.

“Ohhhhh, oh oohhhh oh ohhhhhh,” she sang.

Vraxlyn’s eyes ripped open in shock. That voice.

She knew that voice. She had heard it before.

“Ohhhhhhh OOOOOOOOHHHHHH ohhhhhhh ohhhhhh,” the songstress hummed.

Glowing embers of light materialized around her, offering tiny lanterns of peace. Every muscle seized and revolted. Vraxlyn wanted to scream, but instead she found herself wanting to reach out to the voice.

“Songstress! Songstress…” Vraxlyn muttered.

Why, of all the loneliness and isolation that had befallen her because of this woman, was she now finding herself pulled to her? None of this made sense.

“Vraxlyyyyynnnnn,” the voices called to her.

“I’m here!!” Vraxlyn cried out as she flipped herself over and turned away from the ledge.

“Vrrrrrraaaaaaxxxxxxlllyyyyyyynnnnnn…”

“Vraxlynnnnn come fiiiiiiiind us….”

Their voices layered and mixed with the songstress’s hums. It sounded like it was coming from a small door to the left. Every pulse of crystal light guided her to that partially ajar opening. Before, she had tried to explore every aspect of the tower as she desperately searched for nourishment and companions. Weakness had stopped her from that, but now she was deliriously flailing her way closer and closer to another unexplored entrance.

“We are waiting for you, Vraxlyn…”

“I am coming! Wait for Vraxlyn, please!!”

Overstimulated muscles surged. The weapons stayed slumbering in the far corner. Vraxlyn roared as she ripped the doorway open, revealing a single bridge that spanned across a massive chasm between two separate tower segments. Winds pulled her forward, out onto the reinforced causeway. Rows of security turrets drooped lifeless in their mounts beside her, barrels pointed at her but no longer threatening. This space felt different than anything she’d yet encountered.

For a moment, fear overpowered resolve. Nothingness hung beneath her, jaws open. She was always afraid. Even when her masters had been alive. Even when she had done their bidding and slaughtered thousands. All she had ever known was fear.

Fear of them.

Fear of pain.

Fear of failing.

Fear of dying.

Fear of being alone.

Fear of leaning over that edge and letting the darkness finally have her.

Tears pulled across her face as winds whipped with fury. Cold shivers roiled over her skin as the voices continued to call to her.

Slow, frail steps guided her forward.

“Oooooooohhhhh, oh oohhhh oooohhh ohhhhhh,” the songstress sang.

Silence and nothingness continued to call to her as she looked over the edge of the bridge and felt a slight whisper to jump. But the songstress continued to hum to her as the other women’s voices beckoned her forth. Hate rose like fire, and the tears became sobs. Vraxlyn flinched, but something changed in her heart.

Nervousness and frailty fell away, and Vraxlyn rushed across the bridge.

“Sayane- your name was Sayane!!! You did this. Please, help me!! This is your fault!!!”

“Vraxlyn, you’re almost there,” the songstress whispered in an otherworldly echo that slid into her ears like honey.

“Come find us, Vraxlyn,” the others agreed.

Steps became strides. Winds swelled, but she didn’t care. Another partially broken door was waiting for her. Loosened metal weakly held hinges upright. Purified beams of strange white light cut through the openings. She was close now.

“Vraxxxxxxlynnnn…” Sayane’s voice called with a soft welcome.

Vraxlyn’s paws found the door and ripped it open once again. She had arrived at her destination. Blinding light engulfed her as she hissed in adjustment.

Sayane’s song ended.

Vraxlyn’s eyes opened, and she gasped as her hands lowered in disbelief.

Before her was a warehouse- larger than any space she had ever encountered. Curved architecture held thousands upon thousands of glowing vats and containers, spanning from the floor to elevations high above. Entire warships could have easily fit in the open space.

Currents of blueish white energy drifted between every container and unit, ebbing in harmony with the ongoing vocalizations of the unseen women.

The shape of the room felt foreign and uninfluenced by the Silence’s industrialization. Gone were the machina and technology. All that could be seen were more strange, fluted, piped, stringed devices that were sending out whispering melodies which Vraxlyn could barely hear. All of the sound and light moved through the expanse, gently gliding along the unseen recipients.

She moved further in to see what was beyond the elevated stage she was currently standing on.

Scents met Vraxlyn’s nose. Scents she recognized.

Food.

Nourishment.

She moved further into the colossal space and cried out in confused relief when her eyes confirmed seas of greenery and growing vegetation. Crystal-clear waters flowed in constant movement between the bioluminescent food. Vraxlyn fell to her knees to drink straight from the stream, lapping gulp after gulp as she sobbed.

No one was there. The voices continued, save for Sayane’s, singing their harmonious melody that materialized into pulsing energy. Somehow, the sound was cultivating and maintaining these crops.

Hysterical grasps pulled fresh, unblemished green from dark, damp soil. Vraxlyn shoved as much into her fanged mouth as she could, nearly choking as she did. As she ate, she continued to search for the origin of the voices.

“Heeeelllllllloooooooooo????!!!!” Vraxlyn cried out.

“Sayane?!! Anyone?!!”

“We’re here with you, Vraxlyn. Right here with you.”

“Right there beside you.”

“So close.”

“Come see us.”

Though their tone and sensation was soft, their whispers felt disjointed and uneven. Something felt strange to Vraxlyn as she listened to them speak. Still, she wanted to find them. She wanted company.

So she forced herself to her feet and made her way to the closest origin point of the mysterious light. As she got closer, she could see canisters lining the walls. Small and smooth. Simple glass that held something unseen. Within each canister, a small glow pulsed. The voices rose.

Then she saw them and screeched.

Even after all the violence and destruction, she was still afraid.

Mouths.

Severed, hovering mouths.

Spectral and ethereal. There but not. Soft lips streaking like smears of light, revealing teeth and tongues that belonged to no one. They moved with life as they sang out the haunting song she had been hearing all along.

“We won’t hurt you, Vraxlyn. You are safe here,” one voice whispered inside of her mind.

So much of her soul wanted to flee and jump. This wasn’t what she’d hoped for. But as the mouths moved in their eternal chant, Vraxlyn could not help but be calmed by the light that manifested and glided through the air, harmonizing and balancing the growth that had just fed her. Sayane was not there. She could sense that. But these ghostly mouths were.

"I'm afraid. So afraid," she cried.

"You can stay here with us."

“W-what are you?” Vraxlyn sniffled.

A nearby mouth stopped singing long enough to smile a calming smile.

“This was our home. Now, we are what’s left. Just like you.”