Chapter 225: Legacy of the Old Kingdom

"What should I expect when entering?" Isis asked before stepping in, the smell emanating from the building overwhelming being so close to it. Seth stared through the door opening and closed his mouth, unsure what the right answer would be.

"If I’m being honest, I don’t know." Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Seth. "This store is a legacy of the Old Kingdom, when Danmor was still under its control. The Old Kingdom is a mysterious but fascinating place. Unlike the majority of Oros and Veston, the use of the arcane played a vital role in its running. But it wasn’t always benevolent. The reason the Old Kingdom fell was for a handful of reasons, but the two main ones were that they created the ’utopia’ they wanted in Megath and its core territories surrounding it and no longer needed the rest of their land, but more importantly, the rule of places like Danmor and Cras became so horrid that the people could no longer stand to live under its rule."

His tone was strange saying the final part, almost as if reliving the experience. There was joy but also regret, a strange mixture that couldn’t be understood unless he explained, "Anyway, the arcane was soemhting heavily used by the Old Kingdom, and that place is one of the few places from it that still practise its old sorcery."

"You didn’t explain why you don’t know what I will experience."

"Because I really don’t know. It differs from person to person. I heard a story of a poor man being called into it, and from that he stepped out and became one of the wealthiest merchants in Oros. Another entered and left changed, unable to speak any known tongue, dying on the road muttering incomprehensible words." Seth paused. "For myself, I learnt that I was the last of my family left. The rest had died over the years. When I say family, I don’t mean my parents and brother, but their descendants and those that came after."

"Oh... I’m sorry to hear that." With a smile, he shook his head.

"There is no need. I never confirmed it, so it may have been a lie, but I doubt it. Anyway, it was a small blessing. When I left with my teacher, I had always wondered what happened to them. I guess the best way to explain what it does is that it gives or tells you what you want to know most."

"Did your teacher enter?" Isis asked, intrigued. Her question got a booming laugh from Seth, getting many strange looks from the people around.

"It called to him, and he said." Chuckling again, thinking about it, Seth took a deep breath to calm himself down. "That place smells horrible; I’m afraid I won’t be able to wash it off if I enter." Laughing again, Seth let out a deep sigh afterwards. "He never entered and walked past. I do wonder if he had entered, what he would have seen." Nodding, Isis took a deep breath and gave Seth a look, saying she would enter. Smiling, he leaned against the wall and pulled out a small cube from his bag, fiddling with it before it broke apart in his hands. Slowly, he began to play, putting the piece back together.

Passing the threshold, the atmosphere changed in an instant. The warm air of Danmor vanished, replaced by a biting chill. The smell in the air was a cocktail of herbs that blended to make a pungent smell. The light of the outside was replaced by a dim blue glow that came from crystals hanging from the ceiling. Strangest of all were the mirrors that surrounded her. The building was small, unable to fit more than five people inside; every section, bar the entrance, was littered with mirrors, yet even looking in them, she felt she couldn’t see the entrance, only herself.

A thin layer of smoke slowly filled the room, a strange earthly smell mixed in with it, and once it filled the room, a figure appeared before her. The figure was young, a child in an oversized witch hat decorated with numerous stitched stars, wearing a black robe with the same stars. In one hand, they held a green paste, and in the other, a wand.

They were a cute child, with short brown hair and wide, bright brown eyes. Isis didn’t step back and, surprisingly, didn’t feel frightened by the arrival of the random child, and when he lifted his hand with the green paste, struggling to reach her face, she felt compelled to lean down and help him.

A wide grin broke on his face, and his hand moved quickly, reaching under the Lunarian mask, rubbing the paste over her lips and eyes before vanishing back into the smoke. The paste had no taste, but the effect was clear. Her mind went hazy, free of thought and open to whatever she wanted to be told. Instinctively, she stepped towards one of the mirrors. Unlike her previous reflection, it was different.

A deep void stared back. A void that pretended to be nothing but seemed to hide everything. It was darkness given form, and Isis was sure that behind the darkness something stared back at her, something she could never hope to understand nor dare want to. Silence, one so overpowering she could hear the blood in her body, surrounded her; the incomprehensible void was the source of it.

It took everything she had to look away, and the moment she did, sound returned. She couldn’t be sure, but something screamed that she had to look away, that whatever hid in the darkness didn’t wish to be seen. That what she had just done shouldn’t have been possible.

"What?" And without cause, the goosebumps and fear vanished. Trying to think, she searched her mind. She was sure she had just done something or seen something, and yet no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t remember what it was. The only thing that told her she wasn’t crazy was the instinctual terror of looking at the mirror to her left, which warned that if she looked towards it, she would never leave the building.

Shaking her head, she didn’t try to pry and remember what it was she had just forgotten; her instincts towards the mirror on her left were enough of a warning. Instead, she looked at another. The world inside it changed. A girl sat atop a cloud, her feet dangling over the edge as she lightly hummed, a red quill with a black tip and golden feather in her hand. She wore green robes that belonged to the Magi, but they couldn’t compare to her green eyes that didn’t seem to see the world as real. And beneath her hood, fiery red hair fell.

Behind the girl, a three-headed dragon soared through the sky, the heads snapping at one another, fighting even though they belonged to the same being. Finally, the dragon’s heads stopped after fighting for what felt like decades and flew towards the girl in green robes, wrapping themselves around her, their gazes not warm but sly, curious and proud. But underneath all of their gazes, they held the same feeling. Arrogance. Arrogance not for the girl but for itself.

Stepping back, Isis looked to the next mirror. With a gulp, she stepped forward. The world changed to show a grey wasteland, surrounded by a megalithic building, with massive doors that pierced the clouds above. The grey structure stood silently in the wasteland, the wind afraid to breeze past it, but apart from the structure, there was nothing. Waiting for a moment for something to change, she stepped back and looked at the next.

Inside the next vision, she saw a human. A person stood under the night sky, empty of stars, with golden hair and a peaceful, kind smile, holding their hand up into the sky. Yet his eyes were dim and worried, full of anxiety that could never be explained. They were a handsome man who looked about the same age as she was. The image in the mirror continued, and flying down from the sky, a dove of pure whiteness flew atop his hand. Without thought, she reached into her satchel and pulled out her journal and pen. It was strange; the sight invoked an emotion she had felt many times when seeing something both beautiful and sad.

’A dove of peace drawn to a man of warmth. Golden hair, like the Cosmatons of Veston, and a dove like the summons connected to their blood. A prince or princeling, as they lack a crown. The dove. Even through the mirror, I can feel its warmth, its love for the man it landed on.’

Closing her journal, she made no more notes and watched as the man lifted a hand and rubbed the dove’s head. Stepping back and breaking the image, she carefully put the journal away. Looking to the next mirror, she saw the statue of Lady Death, the very one she had carried. Yet it was different; rather than being in the careful storage she had put it in, it was surrounded by a field of bones, the statue looking as if it had reaped every life itself.

Isis quickly pulled away and covered her mouth. Every bone was so real; it almost made her throw up, able to see the crows pecking at them, tearing what little flesh remained. With a few deep breaths to calm her emotions, she stepped to the final mirror.

Before her, two people appeared, the two she had seen before. The magi in green clutched at the sides of their heads, digging their nails into their scalp, as if trying to tear their hair out; her fiery red hair was now half black and purple, as was one of her eyes. Underneath her, a deep abyss sank into the core of the world, the bottom inconceivable.

The change in the man was far different. He could hardly be considered human any longer. Massive white wings sprouted from his back; his hair was long and pure white, and his eyes looked like two orbs of white light. Down his cheeks, tears like milk poured as people knelt before him in a sea of blood.

Both looked at her and did nothing, seemingly waiting for her to make a choice.