BPL2 - Chapter 7

About three miles from the city, the scrubby vegetation gave way to sand, and then a deserted beach. The waves here came high and fast, reverberating in Lylan’s eardrums as they slammed into the sand.

The beach narrowed as the land beside it rose, and after another mile of walking, they came upon the towering cliff which held the Temple of Ithakros. Narrow stairs had been cut into the beige stone facing the water, switchbacking up to the entrance about three hundred feet above sea level. At the base, a slow, muddy stream flowed out of a fissure in the rock and into the water, swirling with the salty, turquoise waves.

The kings would go no further, and Lylan climbed the stairs alone.

Ancient pillars carved to appear vaguely snake-like and adorned with the shapes of shells and reef creatures flanked the entrance. Lylan stepped into the dim interior, triggering Fabulously Keen Senses to adjust her vision to the new light level.

She’d noted the presence of multiple people inside, but was still surprised when six women rushed toward her the moment she entered.

The women bowed their heads to Lylan, then all reached out eagerly to touch some part of her. She stepped back, hands poised to retrieve her weapons. She didn’t want to start an incident in a temple, but really.

“Peace,” called another voice, from deeper inside the structure. The six women stepped back as the owner of the voice exited an inner chamber. The person walked calmly toward Lylan, a huge smile on her face.

Lylan nodded. “Peace.”

The six others seemed to have received some signal and retreated to the inner chamber, leaving Lylan and the woman alone.

The woman was clearly older than Lylan, but it was impossible to say by how much. Auburn hair hung limply around her face and she was thin enough that her bones might snap in a strong wind. She was not beautiful, to put it delicately, but she exuded a compelling presence all the same. To look at her was to know: Here stands a woman with deep understanding, a woman with answers so ancient that some of the questions themselves have been forgotten.

Name: Smythe

Deity: One True God

Class Type: Cultivator - Sapphire

Level: 88

The woman did not bow, as everyone else had done, even the kings. “We have been expecting you,” she said. “Why did you tarry?”

That hardly seemed fair. Lylan had known about this meeting for all of a few hours. “Are you the Oracle?” she asked.

Smythe’s grin broadened. “You disregard my question. This is good.”

“Is it?”

Smythe cocked her head to the side considering. “Do not you?”

Perhaps Lylan had been wrong about this woman holding answers.

“Where is your Scepter?” asked the woman.

The Scepter of the House of Ke’el was the quest reward for part two, which she’d completed after dying. “I haven’t received it yet.”

“Quite right.” Smythe reached behind her back and brought forth a leather whip, which she held out to Lylan. “It is the Oracle’s labor to present it.”

Lylan took the whip from her. It was soft and finely worked, its color so deeply blue it was nearly black. Information displayed in Lylan’s interface.

Name: Scepter of the Royal House of Ke’el

Damage:

Quality: Mythical

Durability: Indestructible

Weight: 2.9 lbs.

Effect (Triggered): Hydra Mind Shackle

Effect (Triggered): Sigil Grimoire

Effect (Triggered): Bestiary

Effect (Triggered): Hex Precision

Effect (Passive): +15 Dexterity

Description: Ask of Ek'ked and you shall receive.

The details were gibberish to her, so might as well start at the beginning. “It looks nothing like a scepter,” said Lylan.

“This bothers you?” asked Smythe, confused. “Why must things look like what they are?”

Lylan blinked. “Reality has a tendency to insist on it.”

The woman shrugged and looked away, as if reality could go kick rocks.

“I don’t understand the effects,” said Lylan. “Hydra Mind Shackle, what is that? Is this going to help me subdue the hydra inside of me?”

Smythe held out her hands and took the whip back from Lylan.

Lylan heard a faint hiss behind her and spun around, but nothing was there.

The Oracle clucked her tongue for Lylan’s attention, shaking the whip. She lifted the tail and wrapped it four times around her own wrist. “On my wrist… nothing. On your wrist… blood from the ears. You understand?”

“No,” said Lylan.

“Why is that?” asked Smythe, looking frustrated. “Do you not listen, like a child? Or do you not believe, like a man?” She pursed her lips for a moment. “Why are you not content with the deep waters? Must you map the stars, as well?”

Lylan didn’t have the faintest clue what she was on about. This lady sounded like Uncle Ress when he decided to wax poetic.

Lylan touched the handle of the whip, the rest of which was still attached to the Oracle. “If I am to wield this, I need to thoroughly understand what it does. Are you going to help me with that or not?”

Smythe stood perfectly still and impassive for a moment, then leaned forward and tapped Lylan on the chest. “You and the hydra are one,” she said sternly. “Do not accidentally destroy your own mind with the magic whip.”

Well, shoot. Lylan had pretty much grasped that first time. But it had seemed too simple, and now the Oracle thought she was an idiot. If Lylan had had less control over her own features, she might have blushed. “I understand.”

But it still didn’t explain how she was supposed to use it on the hydra inside her body without wielding it on herself.

Smythe unwrapped the whip and handed it back to Lylan, then gave her a sly look. “I see. You do know the deep waters, but are unsure of them. Perhaps in time, you will leave your fascination with the heavens behind, yes? Its lights hold much promise, but they are false. Shackles in themselves. You know this.”

Um, what? This was going to be a long interview. Lylan squared her shoulders and changed the subject. “I’m here for guidance to the Underworld. Will you tell me where the entrance is and what I need to do there?”

Smythe raised an eyebrow. “Those are answers you did not need an Oracle to discover. Who sent you hither so unprepared? You ask all the wrong questions.”

The way she said it made Lylan think that asking the right questions was the key to completing this quest part.

Lylan swallowed. “Events got away from me, and I died last night. I did not intend to complete part two of the quest, but now that I have…”

Smythe hissed softly, a gleam in her eye. “You sense her.”

Lylan stepped back. “No. I don’t sense anything. But I’m not regenerating as I should be, I’m told. My head aches and my memory is—”

“What is this?” snapped the Oracle. “Head aches? Head aches? What is this?”

When Dalyn and Jerrick had been concerned about Lylan’s symptoms, she’d mostly dismissed it because they didn’t exactly seem like experts on the topic. But now that the Oracle had started fussing, Lylan grew worried. “Ever since I woke up after the regeneration,” said Lylan, “a few of my memories…”

Oh, for the love of Blapy, how could she have not realized this before? It wasn’t random memories that were missing, just a specific few. Her dream from yesterday ought to have clued her in sooner—she’d been dreaming about the moments before she’d left for her first trip the the Black Pyramid, and then hit a painful mental wall at the moment she’d stepped through the Blood Gate.

That trip had taken her out of Uru’s Blessing, so when she’d died later on level three, all those memories had been lost. After she’d revived in the temple, going through the Blood Gate was the last thing she’d remembered doing. Lylan looked down at her hand and focused on the Moonstone Ring of Remembrance.

Name: Moonstone Ring of Remembrance

Quality: Epic

Durability: 8 of 8

Weight: 0.12 lbs.

Effect (Passive): +2 Charisma

Effect (Triggered): When worn by Shade Lylan of the Black Pyramid, memories of her time there will be restored.

Restriction: User must bear the mark of the Black Pyramid.

Description: Some memories are worth keeping.

The goddess Miranda had made it for Sift—a gift to return the memories Lylan had lost.

Lylan remembered thinking about the ring’s memories, but the memories themselves were gone now. How could this be? Even if the ring had been damaged, it shouldn’t matter. The memories had been placed in her mind the moment she’d put on the ring, and she only wore it now for sentimental reasons.

She took it off and put it back on again, but nothing changed.

She didn’t think her relationship with Sift would suffer materially if she didn’t get them back, but how could she know? And there was more missing than just Early Version Sift—her memories contained knowledge that might help the team with their current issues. Lylan didn’t know how her memories would help, but remembered knowing that they could.

Lylan swallowed and looked up at the Oracle. “Before yesterday’s death, part of my mind was… unusual. I’d lost some of my memories and had them returned to me. But ever since the regeneration, I can’t find them.”

Smythe stared at Lylan, eyes wide, and held her hand out for the ring.