The Silver Sphinx

 

“Strength is what we gain from the madness we survive.”

Curran, former factol of the Believers of the Source

 

 

Third Guild Day of Mortis, 126 HR

When they had decided to venture into the Abyss to search for the sword Hope, Lereia had asked herself a few questions. What will we see there? Will we ever come back? Is it really as horrible as everyone says? Does the Abyss change you?

Lereia sat on a cot in their cell with her knees drawn up. Due to lack of space, she had transformed back into her human form. As a white tiger, she would have taken up half the cell. There were three small, uncomfortable pallets, all of them dirty and foul-smelling. In one corner of the cell stood a bucket, which everyone had tried to avoid - yet. A night had passed and none of them had slept. The first evening, Garush had spent some time hammering at the iron bars of the cell in anger and shouting, mostly in Orcish. No one had stopped her, not even the guards. After venting her anger to some extent, she had laid down on one of the cots, and stared grimly, even murderously, at the bars. Yelmalis had watched her with concern, but seemed to know her temper well enough. He had sat on his pallet, staring at the floor in resignation, probably contemplating. Overall, he had been rather uncommunicative. Lereia had tried to talk to him a few times, but he seemed to be far away in his thoughts. She didn't know if he was making plans, had given up or was meditating. But then she hardly knew him. Even now, hours later, he was still sitting there, almost motionless. Garush lay on her back on the cot, staring angrily at the ceiling. Every now and then, she struck her already bloody and bruised fist against the stone wall; apparently, that was the calmest position the amazon could assume in this situation.

Lereia herself was simply scared. Suddenly they were in this cell and no one spoke to them. All she had were the impressions she received. Once, three bowls had been pushed through the bars, filled with an indefinable mush that smelled terrible, like old meat and rotten vegetables. None of them had touched it yet. But they were spared worse. The other prisoners were interrogated and tortured, prepared for the slave market or ordered to carry out menial tasks. Some of the captives, both women and men, were even forced into prostitution. But the three Chosen were ignored, one might even say spared. Why? The young woman had terrible thoughts about what might have happened to her friends. Were they already dead? Had they managed to strike some crazy deal so that Garush, Yelmalis and Lereia herself had not yet been physically harmed?

Another scream. From a room where Lereia suspected a torture chamber. She lay back and felt something pressing into her hip bone. The guards had taken most of their belongings, especially Garush’s axe and Yelmalis’ spellbook and components, and thrown them into a separate cell. But she still had her belt pouch. She pulled out a ring, turned it between her fingers and felt a pain in her chest. Factol Ambar had given her this ring, along with a few other valuable items. They were to be used for possible negotiations or bribes in the Abyss. He had told her that he had forged the ring himself. She stared at the piece of jewelry and was angry with herself. She had spent her last evening in Sigil with Ambar at an exhibition opening in the Festhall. Now she regretted that she had not told him how she really felt. That he had become more important to her than anyone else and that she felt she hadn't known what she had been looking for until she had met him and got to know him better. She had hesitated to tell him all this or to show it more openly. She clutched the ring tightly and bit her lower lip to hold back the tears. If only he were here. But now she wasn't even sure if she would ever see him again. Or any of the others. Naghûl, Sgillin or Morânia, who were like family to her. Jana and Kiyoshi, whom she would love to get to know better and already felt close to. A terrible fear crept up inside her. She could maintain her composure and keep her emotions in check, but she couldn't suppress her feelings. It had grown quieter in the cells. Lereia closed her eyes and clutched the ring, her thoughts in Sigil, in her house, at a certain dinner ...

Suddenly, there was a loud bang at the cell door and she startled. A mane. It grinned stupidly and moved on, striking against the next cell doors with a piece of metal. Apparently, it didn't want to let the prisoners sleep, trying to dampen their spirits and make them lose all hope. Disgusting creature. For a brief moment, Lereia felt the urge to rip its soul out ... Does the Abyss change you? I think so.

 

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This chapter was written by Lereia's player.