Chapter 805 – The Cave Too Big

Venture through me into the gates of madness, and realise the sheer scale of insectoid that your existence is. There is no appreciation of grandeur here, and no lust towards the unknown. Ignorance is a miserable enclosure of hope, yet it is a form of hope nonetheless. It is knowledge that is hopeless, and it is certainty. There is a great secret, and it is on tip of my tongue, and if it could be spilled, then it shall be spilled, but to say such things would be the same as to tear the scales off a dragon and then ask it why it cannot feed on the beautiful shining pellets that are in the sky.

Yet I stand here, as a solemn vigil, for my name is Saranael, my title is the God of Knowledge. If that is madness, then call me mad. I have seen the ruins where castles should be. The bones of those that still have not been born. Understand it, you filth, for the word cannot be used. Give this text to Kassandora and read it is as she would. Should the God of Knowledge wish for metaphor, then he would come at you with metaphor. There is a time, and there is not a time. And currently every day, we waver between the two on this narrow line.

A blade hangs above my head. That, can be said. And I say again, read this as Kassandora would. You fool, I do not talk of shadows of death or grim reapers that reap a harvest, I talk of a sword of steel that can be touched with nothing but a broom! The horse hair that holds it up is stronger than steel and the curiosity has bested me. I have indeed tried to cut it and found myself unable to. But the rules that have been applied to me are specific.

That, indeed, is the issue with the thoughts that have been found and located. It is an ingenious form of torture, specifically for myself. Ask a man with perfect memory to invent a concept he understands perfectly from first principles, and then show him ruins of what shall never come if the logic uses even a single hint from already existing knowledge. It is an impossibility, specifically because as far I am concerned, there is but one way to the answer, and it is the one I already know.

So I shall talk of slaying dragons, and this, do not read as if you were Kassandora. Read it as if you were Helenna, or Malam. I live on a dragon. This dragon is my own, for of course it is. I am the dragon’s and the dragon is mine. Yet the dragon is feared and thus, the dragon was put into an enclosure. Not a cage. That is highly specific. This enclosure, I have already stated what it is. It operates on the exact same principle under the Divine Dream in which Olephia of Chaos is bound in. Not the mechanics, but as easily as she can wake, so can I dismount this dragon.

Yet I cannot dismount this dragon, for the dragon needs me, and I need the dragon. More so, to be more specific, if I ever stepped off the dragon, I would die immediately most likely. And everyone knows that the dragon shall follow me to feast on its tasty treats. But I am not the only bug on the dragon’s back. There are many greater than me, and there are many more lesser than me. We are ants and spiders and wasps that toil the dragon’s back.

And there are ticks, and the ticks are little creatures that jump onto the dragon and need to be devoured by a spider, or a wasp, or an ant. Devoured, or ripped apart, it does not matter here, removed is what should be said.

Because this dragon is a corpse, the blood from it has been sucked out. But I am a corpse, not a real person born and bred but a figment of human imagination.

What I can say is this, for it has never been given to me but something I have worked out on myself:

Divinity was something mankind learned to create.

- One of God Saranael’s, of Knowledge’s, writings. Written after the Great War, once his madness peaked.

Fer sniffed the air and held her hand just before Fortia took a step forward. “Nene, come back here.” Of Beasthood growled as her eyes settled the twisting towers in the distance. After Neneria’s torrent of souls, the entire cave lay quiet and cold and dead. Nothing, utterly nothing moved and not a breath of life came from below. Tens of thousands, maybe a hundred thousand, maybe more, dishevelled and deformed bodies lay strewn across each other. With mouths too wide, or claws too big, or necks too long, or stomachs bulging.

All them killed by without a wound, drowned in the endless millions of souls that Neneria had conjured up and made fall from the ceiling and dash in through the walls. “Well…” Malam said, hands behind her back. “Fucking Hell.”

There was no joke to tell. It was like witnessing Olephia level a mountain range, or Irinika carve out a new lake in the ground. Even Fer could sometimes forget she was not the strongest. But sometimes, a reminder like this was needed. Pegaz, Neneria’s ghastly steed, brought the Goddess of Death back to the ledge the rest of the Divines were standing on, and disappeared into the ground so that Neneria could just extend her legs and go from sitting to standing without taking a step. “You see it once and you forget what it’s like.” Fortia said quietly.

Maisara just shrugged and Fer sniffed the air again, it was there. Definitely, a light breeze that came and went. A start-stop, much like a beating heart. “Did you feel that?” Fer asked. The rest of the Divines looked at each other and then shook their heads. “It was the breeze.”

“I assume there’ll be other openings.” Fortia said.

“Why wouldn’t there be?” Malam asked. “It would be crazier if anything for a place this large to have a single entrance.”

“Mmh.” Maisara said. “Is it still here?”

“It starts and stops.” Fer said. “A door maybe? Or it could bubbling up and down maybe?” Fortia shook her head and pointed down.

“I mean, I have to say it, we’re going down there, aren’t we?” She asked.

“We are.” Maisara said and Fer nodded.

“Fucking Hell.” Fortia mumbled again.

“Mal.” Fer came, it was time to start making some of her own decisions. “You stay up here.”

“You sure?” Malam asked. “I want to see too.” She looked down at the unbroken yet dead bodies. But Malam was the weakest of them, and unlike Neneria, she could not just summon a ghost-horse and fly away either. But that logic would not work on her.

“We need someone to keep watch if they start rising or something.” Fer just spewed out the first bullshit reason that came to her head.

“Oh my Gods.” Fortia dropped her arms. “Really Fer? Really?”

“Well…” Malam said. “Actually, at this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

“I hate all of you.” Fortia said.

“Give us light Mal, I’m jumping.” Fer went first, she was the Goddess of Beasthood, she could get out the first too. And she wouldn’t stay for Fortia to argue and think of some plan either. One step off the ledge and then a drop of a hundred metres. Fer’s weight exploded bodies around her when she came in with a thud. Black blood splashed away from her and she took a step forward. They were bodies alright, and they could not hold up the weight of Fer. Her foot crushed through as if she was treading through heavy grass, or an overgrown swamp. The smell was disgusting.

Fer held her flashlight forward, inspected the room, then walked to the closest pillar. Maisara and Fortia came in second, two more massive thuds, half the cracking of stone, half the splashing of jam. The twisting sound of roots growing meant Iniri was coming down too, although Fer didn’t turn to check. Some little sense in her head told her not to be turning around right now.

Was she being watched right now?

Fortia, Maisara and Iniri caught up quickly enough. “Neneria stayed behind too.” Fortia said. “She can support better from up there.”

“Mmh.” Fer gave the smallest answer as she stared at the lines carved into the wall. Iniri had tried to explain and teach them before, but the woman terrible. Half her explanations were just rants about grammar, the Goddess of Nature was not teacher material. “I can’t read this.”

“Iniri.” Fortia said and stepped aside as Fer stepped away and shone her torch down towards the far side of this massive chamber. In the very middle, there was a huge base as if a massive pillar had stood there. It had to have been as large as a fortress, and the light of the torch did not even reach the far wall. Was there one even? There had to be, this cave could not go forever.

Iniri looked at the runes and dragged her fingers over the creases on the stone. “I assume it’s legible.” Maisara said, the Goddess of Nature made a small nod. “Save us the grammar lessons and just read it then.”

“For the very Divine is one of ours, but it is not.” She said.

“Do you know what means?” Fortia asked and Iniri shook her head.

“I can imagine.” Iniri said. “But that’s just a theory.” She moved to the next pillar as Fer turned around, one ear twisted to keep listening on the conversation, but she smelled the breeze again. Maisara stopped moving and looked in Fer’s direction.

“I felt that.” She said. “Wind.”

“I know.” Fer said.

“A gift from others, and not our own construct.” Iniri finished the column and moved on. “That was that one.” She whispered quietly. Fortia followed her along, spear out. Iniri stepped onto the bodies and steadied herself with the roots of her dress that slithered by her side. A set of a dozen wooden tentacles that ensured their Goddess did not have to dirty their feet. Where Fortia stepped, her foot just went through the dead flesh that had been killed without wounds. “This one.” Iniri began slowly as Fer narrowed her eyes.

Of Beasthood turned her flashlight onto full power. “We should have brought Elassa.” Fer muttered to Maisara as the Goddess of Order looked around and pointed to a

“Throw me at that, as high as you can.”

“Alright.” Fer turned to Maisara who had dematerialized her axe and was extending her arm.

Iniri continued to scout the columns. “This one…” She narrowed her eyes. “Gift from the Heavens.” She finished. “But gift can be used as warning here. That’s just…” She inclined her head. “Well, it maybe neither.”

“So you don’t know what it says?” Fortia asked.

“It’s both characters overlaid onto each other.” Iniri said coldly.

“I’m throwing you.” Fer said quietly and spun on the spot, her tail serving as leverage to pick up speed. Her core tightened as her foot and leg rotated, and then the upper body caught up. Maisara went from standing position to being horizontal to Of Beasthood, and then Fer released her hand. Fortia was better at throwing.

Maisara’s axe appeared in her hand as the Goddess of Order spun, and the silver blur crashed into the pillar, the weapon cutting and lodging into the stone. Maisara swung around her axe, then pulled herself up and stood balanced on it, one hand resting on the stone, the other shining her torch in the distance. The crash silenced everything in the cave and sent a thunderous echo that returned back to them as dust fell from the pillar. “You two have to be so loud?” Fortia hissed.

“There’s…” Fer was about to say there was nothing here but the wind came again, harder this time. Fortia froze, her eyes going wide.

“I felt it that time.”

“I did too.” Iniri said. “The wind.”

“WIND!” Maisara shouted from the top. “NOTHING ELSE THOUGH!” Malam’s own flashlight was bouncing around the chamber as the Goddess of Hatred inspected the walls from the entrance. Neneria stood besides her, arms crossed.

“I’ll…” Iniri said. “Move onto the next one.” She took a few steps and rubbed the side, then mumbled a few swears.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No.” Iniri said. “Gods from abroad.” She stopped. “Or maybe, Gods from afar where nothing like the Gods from…” She motioned to around her. “The general vicinity.”

“So here.” Fortia said. “From here, use your brain Iniri and translate it into proper words.”

“I do!” Iniri moaned. She squatted down to read the runes further down. “For our tower was the culmination of our pride.” She stopped. “It ends there.”

“Next one then.” Fortia said, shooting her flashlight forwards the next pillar in the sequence. Maisara swayed on her axe.

“WIND AGAIN!” She shouted. Fer had felt it too, it must have been stronger up near the ceiling then. Of Order dematerialized her axe and half slid, half fell down the pillar to join the trio in the massive cave. “That was strong, stronger than up here.” She pulled a face. “And it was warmer too.”

“Heat rises.” Fortia said weakly as Iniri stopped by the next pillar. Fer just collected the information, wind down here should be one temperature. The realistic answer was they were close to a geological hotspot. But they should be under Epa and in a place without volcanoes or earthquakes. A hotspot would have been predicted. She wasn’t going to say it, but this wind came on too evenly to be just bubbling too. She stopped and sniffed the air.

Maisara was right, it was getting warmer. “For no Of preceded it, and no title could be given.” She squatted down again. “I’m just giving you rough meanings now, not the literal translations but it’s close enough.”

“Are you missing anything important or not?” Fortia asked and Iniri sighed as she stood back up.

“Because no Of… came before? Preceded? It. And no title, and title has the possessive, so it’s title-ours, could be given. And given is more like… gifted? I don’t know, it’s just given, close enough.”

“Just give the close enough Iniri.” Fortia said. “We’ll write them down on the way back and then you can do your grammar.”

“Alright.” Iniri said, squatting down again. “Of everything we had, but not of everything we were.” She looked at the symbols again. “That’s close enough as well.”

“It sounds like Saranael.” Maisara said coldly.

“It does sound like Saranael.” Fortia said. They moved onto the next pillar, treading through the mass of bodies left behind by Neneria’s magic cleansing of this entire region. Iniri stopped and stared at the symbols, there were less of them here, although Fer had long since realised that the amount of lines did not translate to the amount of words anyway. “What’s that?”

“Arda against everything.” Iniri said and looked down. “Arda stands.” She squatted. “Sun descends.” Iniri stood up and looked around at them. “That’s it, there’s no poetry there, it’s just… literal.”