One Hundred And Fourteen Years Later

Tiny paws scuttled across the dust-coated flooring with as much secrecy as possible. Faint creaks of metal bracing were heard, signaling that some manner of device was in need of maintenance and oil. The great hall stood silent as a tomb, with its grotesque walls continuously sending out macabre imagery to all who dared to observe their decorations of defiled corpses.

The littler one whimpered.

“I don’t want to look,” she pleaded.

“But you need to. It will keep you afraid. Keep you safe,” the older one muttered in a low voice.

“Always remember the tenants.”

“I know, I know,” the small one sniffled as she raised her head.

Flayed bodies looked down at them. Skin peeled back to show the rotten and dried remnants of what had been hidden. Dozens hung quiet, forever locked in grimacing suffering. In the most horrific of ways, she knew that someone had done this as a mercy to any passersby. This hideous sight would cause any who looked up to feel unease or dread or disgust. That was what would keep them safe. That would keep the good feelings away. That would keep the Wanderers away. So she looked. Even as the tears flowed.

“I do not like this, Wretch,” she sobbed.

“Shut up, Burden. Shut up and keep looking.”

They made their way through the repurposed crypt, walking single file, the little one in the back, carefully dragging her bad foot to match the intentionally laid path before her. Soft wooden taps echoed from the walls every time her staff pressed down before her.

The older one was taller, with longer ears drooping down instead of holding their bounce like the little one’s still did. Time had robbed the muscles of strength, as well as spark. Now, the elongated flaps flopped furry and heavy over her shoulders like sad curtains. Scars and missing chunks told stories of wounds that, if not for the jagged spike in her head, could be assumed to have come from fights.

But the spike told a different story. Both of them were crowned with strange metal contraptions, rudimentary in their design and basic in their function. At the top of their heads was a crank. It fed a harness that ran like a cage along the upper half of their skulls and bound around a single drill. Within the center of that drill was a long, jagged shard of glowing crystal. Its end was intentionally dug ever so slightly into their fur and flesh, continuously scraping and tearing open their heads with every movement.

The one named Burden wiped a single drop of blood from her brow with the back of her matted paw as she scraped along. The bigger one continued her slowed walk, scanning the massive chamber.

Its cavern was colossal by their small standards, clearly built long ago for beings much larger than them. Walkways meant to be traversed in minutes were taking them hours as they limped and crouched and waited. Through it all, they avoided talking unless necessary.

Darkness had all but drowned the space, save for the faint light of their crystal headpieces and a single light shard the older one held out like a torch. Cerulean light danced along edges like water, illuminating a few meters ahead of them, further slowing their exploration as they cautioned every turn and corner with sincere hesitation.

It was a process they’d known their entire life. No talking beyond what was necessary. No embraces or words of comfort. Even when the little one fell, the older one would not help her up unless it was life or death. She had to be hardened. Both of them. Darkness was the world they knew, and it was the world they had to survive.

In the abyss, they would hear the other crying some nights. Or days. Eternal blackness made it impossible to know which was which, or if day even existed anymore. The sun had likely died just like so many others, and maybe that explained why the fields were nothing but ash now. Smoke and rain had blotted the Star Stream from sight for several lifetimes now, so to them it was nothing more than a myth, rarely seen and rarely thought of.

The only remaining truth of the old world was the soul stones that still pulsed from within their chests. Colored light shone through their ribs and skin, painting diluted ambience onto matted fur when visible. Both of them did their best to cover it to help avoid being seen and to avoid showing any hints of emotion beyond misery and dread. Itchy, roughened burlap covered their chest and legs, tied loosely with old rope, and that was enough.

Deeper and deeper they went, slowly making their way through the ruins.

“It’s here. Somewhere. The manuscripts said it was moved here…” the older one said as her ice-grey pupils scanned the low-lit surroundings.

Her stomach growled, and she pummelled it with a hardened fist, hoping to knot it into submission.

Then the laugh sounded out.

First, it was weak. Uncertain. Unwell. Delirious, unsettled glee ricocheted from stony walls, masking its origin point. Both girls froze, unable to hide their shivers.

“A wanderer…” Burden sniffled.

“Shut up,” the older one whispered swiftly.

Her paw extended behind her, and Burden moved without acknowledging, placing her own paw into it for balance so that her cane no longer had to tap. Soft pads along their toes allowed them to move as quietly as possible as they continued forward.

Another laugh sounded out, bending between hysteria and sobs. As the laughing being continued, it gasped for air, choking and crying as it did. Thuds sounded, and the older one assumed the being was slamming itself into a nearby wall or pillar, as they often would.

Sweat gathered between their trembling paws as they heard the wanderer move closer, laughing all the while. Burden stifled a whimper by biting her lip until she felt it rupture beneath her fangs. Just as the taste of salt touched her tongue, the being appeared ahead of them.

The two furry girls froze, small and vulnerable. It was large, at least compared to them. Two legs and arms, smooth skin. Dead, blank eyes forever rolled back. Some manner of elf or hume. Mangled, frail limbs and drooping skin hinted that it had turned some time ago. Corrupted crystal barbs were already jutting from its flesh, showing that its eternal suffering was only just beginning.

It contorted over itself as it limped along, spasming and giggling. The older one wanted to cry. Every time she saw one, she wanted to scream and sob. But she couldn’t. Instead, she forced her eyes dry and open, locked on the monster with absolute focus.

To her great relief, it moved away from them, falling once, then sloppily loping up, slamming its open mouth into a corner of cracked rock as it rose.

The laughing continued for several more minutes as it wandered between fallen pillars and broken statues, failing in its search for the origin of the sniffle.

The two waited until the sounds were all but gone, far away and out of range of danger. When stillness had returned, they continued their scan.

Up ahead, the path opened into a wide domed room, and the older one almost gasped a sound akin to relief. Before she could fully articulate the noise, her hand instinctively yanked to her crown and quickly turned the dial at the top. Each rotation activated gears along the channel braces, resulting in the shard lowering deeper into her skin. Flesh tore, and stone penetrated. She silently snarled in pain, gritting her teeth as new blood ran down her stained forehead. It was deep. Deeper than she’d been stabbed in a while. But it had to be. She was almost excited.

“This is it…” she exhaled as her eyes misted and she looked out at the enormous sanctum.

More horrific pillars lined the walls, further adorned with death and dismemberment. Haunting, cold flames flickered along the ground from within strange sigil carvings. Pale blue tongues lapped upwards, crackling with malice, offering no warmth, only dull light and pain.

“I don’t like this fire,” Burden muttered.

“Don’t touch. It will still burn you,” the bigger one replied.

At the center of the chamber, several enormous curtains hung from rusted chains. They were hiding something behind their shrouds. Something gigantic and still. Burden noticed her companion staring intently at the curtains.

“Is it there? The lightbringer?” she asked.

The wording shook the older one from her focus, and her thoughts changed. A sneer of wild anger came across her face as she turned to the little one and seized her shoulders.

“You have always been a burden! Your stupid, bent leg. Your loud footsteps!” she spat.

Burden’s eyes glossed as tears rose and she nodded.

“No, please no, Wretch. I don’t want to hear it. Please, no,” Burden cried, even though she knew what the words were doing.

The one named Wretch blinked tears from her own eyes and shook her head.

“Shut up. Just shut up. You never shut up! You’re a waste. A failure and a BURDEN! That’s all you are. That’s all you’ll ever be. So just shut up. Shut up and feel bad…”

Wretch was crying now.

“N-no matter what you see. Or how it makes you feel. Feel bad! Only bad! If you start to feel anything, ANYTHING else, you grab that knob, and you tighten until you pass out. Do you understand, you miserable burden?”

Burden nodded as her lip drooped into a broken pout.

“I wish I wasn’t your sister,” she cried as her tiny paws wrapped around her arms.

Wretch choked and her throat locked. A stray drop of blood curved along her eyelid and mixed with a tear, streaming swiftly along her cheek. It was subtle, but her paw started to reach for her little sister, but then it stopped.

“Shut up and get your sling ready. More wanderers will likely be coming soon,” she coldly replied.

Burden was left crying to herself as Wretch turned away and ran to the massive lever nearby.

It was attached to some form of machinery that all of the chains were running to, so she assumed it was the release. Undoing it would cause a great ruckus of noise. She knew that. But they had to try.

She began to sprint. As fast as her small paws would allow. The mechanism was four times her size and each link of the chain was large enough for her to fit through its opening. When she reached a close enough point, she leapt into the air and caught the lever with both hands. Weight shifted as momentum carried her hips through. She rocked forward then yanked all of her body weight downward, and the lever creaked loose.

It caught before fully dislodging, so she climbed on top of it and steadied herself. She paused long enough to confirm her little sister was getting ready. A pang of misery bit at her side as she watched the tiny, frail creature fumble with her pouch and stones. The feeling lasted only a second. Then it was over and time to try again. Once her feet were set, she jumped up and slammed down. Then again. Every jump sent a noise echoing through the hall, and she knew they would not be alone for much longer.

She jumped again.

Then again.

And this time it came loose. There was a snap, and the lever fell low, causing Wretch to slip and slam her ribs into the metal before falling to the ground with a cry of pain.

“Wretch?!” Burden whispered in concern.

But Wretch was already forcing herself up as the curtains fell heavy and slow. Billows of thick fabric threw clouds of dust outward, and Wretch covered her mouth.

In the distance, several screams of manic laughter rose from the far edges of the building.

“Wretch!” Burden whimpered.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Wretch groaned as she watched the curtains fall from their massive mounts.

Seconds passed as the tapestries collapsed with abandon, and Wretch found herself tightening the shard further. Laughs grew louder. Her little sister was whimpering in terror.

Then the colossal figure was revealed, and she let out a scream of anguished relief.

“It’s you! It’s you, you miserable, forsaken failure!”

Her voice stirred the being from its broken slumber.

Fingers larger than their bodies twitched with awakening. More chains were dropping, and the titan was lowered before them.

Once proud and beautiful. Once made of radiant golden spring sunlight. Once forever smiling and vibrant. Now, pale, mutilated, and stitched into partial healing. His eyes were still forced open, and within their fleshy prisons, the white orbs were all but grey.

“The lightbringer…” Burden gasped as she reached up and twisted her shard lower.

Dozens of blinded wanderers tripped and spilled into the great chamber, a hundred meters behind them.

Wretch forced herself up to her feet and growled as she faced the deity with fires of hate in her eyes.

“Sol!!! Lightbringer! God of Joy!” she screamed.

Pale white flickered within the being’s eyes as a groan shook the walls and ground. His lips parted with awakening. The wanderers began to sprint and claw in every direction. Burden reached her sister and grabbed her side in terror. Wretch continued.

“Sol, the failure of all! All of this is your fault! I curse you and command you to help us! NOW!!”

There was an inhale, then a concussion of white consumed the room.