The Tears of Kas̆dael

The tiger's legs grew elongated, its head shrunk, and its rib cage caved in on itself. Fur and skin sloughed off its body in giant slabs, only to dissipate into the ether before even reaching the floor. As the fur melted off, the first signs of pale flesh emerged, slowly expanding to cover the entirety of the body. In barely a minute, a woman had replaced the tiger. Whatever magic had powered her transformation did not stretch so far as to provide her clothes, and Jasper’s eyes lingered a touch too long as his brain tried to catch up with what he was seeing.

The woman scowled, clearly unamused by his glance, and bent down beside the little girl, who mutely offered her a bag. She fished a tunic out of the offered pouch and dragged it over her head before speaking.

“What are you doing here,” the woman growled, as she pulled the tunic over her hips, and reached up to wring dry her hair.

“You’re seraphs,” he blurted out loud, forgetting about the others who were still asleep.

“This place belongs to us,” she retorted, neither confirming nor denying his accusation.

He could hear the others begin to stir but ignored them. “Are you survivors from Ishka’s cult?”

The anger on the woman's face was replaced with caution. “Where did you hear that name? Unless...” She hesitated a moment, and then the anger surged anew. “Are you here to steal the heritage?”

“It’s not really stealing, is it?” Jasper replied mildly. “More than one person can earn his favor, after all.”

“It is our heritage,” she growled and, with her fists clenched at her side, she took a step forward. The shriek of a blade against its sheath sounded beside him as Ihra drew her dagger, and Jasper quickly held up his hands.

“Wait - there's no need to fight. We're not here to cause any trouble and besides,” he paused and allowed a small current of flames to run down his hand, flooding the room with enough light for the woman to see the ruddy complexion of his skin. “I may not be a Seraph, but I am a Djinn. I have my own history with this place.”

Uncertainty filled the woman’s eyes, but as she glanced down at the child standing beside her, her stance softened. “Perhaps we can talk,” she finally agreed.

It turned out that his guess had been correct. While the woman was not a survivor herself of Ishka's cult, she was a descendant. After the conclave fell in a single night, most had fled back to Harei Miqlat to lick their wounds, but a few had stuck around in the jungles instead, preferring to live in the wilderness rather than bow to the rule of the seraph elders. And truthfully, considering Jasper’s own irritating interactions with the seraph elders, it was a sentiment he could understand.

Remembering the seraph he’d encountered near Gis̆-Izum, he asked if she’d heard of Namrah, but the woman only shook her head.

“Most of the time, my clan lives near the capital. We’re only here because it’s time for my Gerrah to gain a class,” she explained, grasping the hand of her daughter, though a cloud passed over her face as she spoke. “Something has changed since the last time I was here. When I took her to see the tomb, I found our ancestors’ sleep had been disturbed. They bar the path now, threatening all who enter. Twice I tried to take Gerrah to Ishka's memorial, but was forced to retreat."

Jasper had the sinking feeling he knew the reason for the guardians' newfound unrest. “You mean they weren’t guarding Ishka’s tomb before? Have you tried taking her across the rafters?”

The woman gave him a funny look. “It sounds as if you’ve been there, but surely you haven’t. Unless…”

The embers of rage that had been extinguished earlier burst back into life anew. “You’re the one who disturbed them, aren’t you,” she hissed. “You’re the reason we can’t reach Lord Ishka.”

“I don't know - maybe?” Jasper admitted reluctantly. “ I did come here about a year ago – and it wasn't like I chose to,” he added defensively. “I was dragged here from another world and arrived with literally nothing – not even clothes on my back. When I explored the compound, I found Ishka’s grave and received a class from it, but there were some guardians that sought to stop me. I didn’t realize that was unusual,” he concluded with a helpless shrug.

The woman’s wrath dimmed slightly at his explanation, though it did not entirely abate. “You’re not from here?” she questioned. “But you look-“

“My mother was originally from this world. After I gained a few levels, I changed to resemble her people, the Djinn,” he explained. “But I knew none of that when I arrived here. I had no idea I was intruding on some sort of sacred place for your clan – this place was abandoned and I was just trying to survive,” he continued.

Her gaze wavered and finally dropped, her lips twisting in a sour grimace, as she stared at the ground. “Perhaps you meant no harm, but the damage is done. For as long as Lord Ishka has slumbered, our clan has brought our children here to gain their class, and never once were we turned aside. Now, what will my little Gerrah do?”

“What if we take care of these guardians for you - will that fix the problem?” Tsia asked, interrupting their conversation.

“I fear it might not be enough,” the woman replied hesitantly. “I have been unable to successfully sneak Gerrah past the guardians, but they are not the only thing that has changed in Lord Ishka’s tomb. There is another presence there, something far stronger than them. It never emerged from the shadows, but I fear that Ishka’s guardians are not the only thing to be awoken.”

Jasper sighed as Tsia tossed a pleading glance his direction, but he was inclined to help too. “We’ll see if we can help you access the shrine,” he agreed “but not right now. It's been a long day and if we're going to fight, I want at least a little sleep.”

It was a dark morning as the heavens continued their downpour, and the sandy courtyard that Jasper remembered was filled with giant pools of filthy water. He was forced to trudge through the muck, and with each step he took viscous sand that glommed onto his feet with enough suction force that, if he were back home, he would have struggled to free himself. Now, though, it was little more than a nuisance.

By the time they reached the other side, they were thoroughly soaked, but at least the solid stone of the pyramid's stone was an upgrade on the waterlogged muck. They trudged up the stairs to the small temple that crowned its peak, where they found the shaft that descended into the pyramid’s bowels.

The narrow shaft was slick with rain, with a dozen miniature waterfalls tumbling down its slope. They were forced to crouch low to the ground to keep their footing until they reached the end of the shaft, which dead-ended in a simple stone arch through which nothing else could be seen. Knowing what to expect on the other side, Jasper stepped into the gate.

As before, his step slowed as a barrier rose to meet him, but it was unable to keep him out. With a sudden pop, the pressure released and he stepped into the burial chamber. A massive sunken hall stretched before him, several times larger than the pyramid that guarded its entrance. Twin staircases wound down from the elevated platform to the hall below, where the giant sarcophagi lay. Their once magnificent lids lay strewn on the ground, most of them shattered beyond repair, but the undead giants themselves seemed to be hidden again in their coffins. Though I suppose they’ll arise when we come knocking.

His eyes drifted up as he reached the end of the hall, drawn inexorably higher as he stared at the colossal statue of Ishka. The dead seraph sat on a throne of gold, with his hand raised in an eternal gesture of benediction. A pair of wings wrapped around his feet, two more covered his lap, and the final, largest pair flared above his head like a bird in flight. The statue seemed unchanged since the last time he saw it and yet, Jasper felt a cold tingle run down his spine as he gazed upon it. Perhaps the woman’s words had simply made him paranoid, but he too fancied he could sense a presence there he hadn’t felt before.

While Gerrah and her mother followed directly on his heels, there was a brief pause before Erin passed through. “Man, it did not want to let me pass,” the scout complained.

“It didn’t?” Jasper wrinkled his brow in confusion, but the woman nodded with understanding.

“You’re not supposed to be here," she said pointedly, "but since the damage is already done…”

Jasper pivoted back to the arch, from which Tsia and Ihra had yet to emerge. Is it not going to let them in?

It was a solid minute before Tsia finally stepped through. Her face was red as a cherry and covered in sweat, and she slashed vigorously at the air in front of her with a glistening blade of wind while with one hand, she dragged Ihra behind her. The elfling looked even worse for the wear, with her usual lily-white skin a vigorous shade of red that would have been a Djinn noble jealous. With a final heave of effort on Tsia's part, the barrier finally shattered, allowing them to step fully into the hall.

“You alright?” Jasper hurried over to them and preemptively started to cast Circle of Forgiveness.

“Don’t waste your essence,” Ihra tried to fend him off, but he cast the spell anyway, watching with relief as her skin returned to its usual pallor. Satisfied they were okay, he shot an angry glare at the seraph. “Why didn't you warn us? We're here doing you a favor.”

The woman shrugged. “How was I to know? I've never encountered a barrier.”

“It's alright,” Ihra piped. "Even if we'd known about the barrier, I'd want to come." Her gaze swept over the massive burial chamber with a touch of excitement. “It would have been a shame to miss this place.”

He followed her to the balustrade, where they could see the twelve massive sarcophagi in the sunken hall.

“How many of the guardians remain?” he asked the seraph. “I know I killed a few of them last time, but honestly, I’m not sure how many went down.”

“There were twelve of them,” she replied promptly.

"Twelve?" He counted the sarcophagi again, quickly reaching the number twelve, and frowned. "Are you sure there were twelve?"

She nodded her head, and he grimaced. "Then it looks like I didn't kill them after all. I must have just temporarily inconvenienced them. Oh well,” he sighed. “Even if we don't truly kill them, I'm sure we can get your daughter to the statue.”

“There are other children in our clan," the woman replied hesitantly. "If the guards arise again, how shall they pass?”

“I don’t know,” Jasper replied with a touch of irritation. “I’m trying to help you, but I can’t guard this place forever. Surely there’s someone in your clan that’s strong enough to help?”

Shame flickered across the seraph's face and she hung her head. “There are few opportunities to grow strong near the capital,” she admitted. “And our people are mere shadows of our ancestors. I do not know if there is any warrior in our clan strong enough to beat these guardians.”

Of course. Suffocating a sigh, Jasper glanced at the rest of the party, to gauge their opinion before offering further help. Tsia and Ihra offered subtle nods, while the scout just shrugged. I suppose there's no harm in trying. “We’ll do our best to make sure they’re truly dead this time.”

Visible relief swept over her face, and he hurried to warn her. “I can’t make any promises though – I don’t know what causes them to regenerate, so I don’t know if we can actually kill them – but we’ll try.”

“It’s better than nothing,” she replied, “and it doesn’t work…perhaps we can hire members from the guild to escort us.”

Or you could use it as a chance to level up, Jasper thought, still a touch grumpy, but he left it unsaid. Instead, he gestured to the stairs as he turned to face the group. “Well, y’all ready to rumble?”