deathsmajesty | Somewhere On Shadalar, Monday Early Evening (Fandom Time) (Reply)

Liliana stumbled as they stepped through the portal and onto Shandalar. Lush trees encircled them, soft loam cradled their feet, the pungent smell of rotting humus sank deep into their noses. The air was sweltering and sticky, though Liliana took no more notice of that than she did in Baltimore. Perhaps there was sound—the call of birds startled by her arrival, the tromp of a baloth in the distance - but as soon as she stepped through, all of her senses were bound up by the cacophony of the Veil.

"...nurtured the root...strong enough...the vessel..."

Different voices rose and fell over each other in a constant susurrus that gnawed at the edges of her mind. Usually, it was worst right after she used magic; the rest of the time she could ignore them or drown them out with her own thoughts. But with her first step onto Shandalar, the rules had apparently changed. If she'd known it was going to be like this, she might not have been so impatient during the two month delay on their portal.

"Pipe down, boys," she said aloud, leaning against a tree to steady herself and barely aware she was speaking aloud.

"...hallowed earth...the void's first breath..."

"I said shut up!"

Silence. The voices stopped. If birds had been calling, they quieted at the sound of her outburst.

"Don't talk to me about the void," she snapped. "Now where in this cursed world am I?"

Ignis	Ignis, meanwhile, had no trouble at all taking in the sounds and smell and swell of that humidity as they stepped through, although he was rather immediately distracted from most of it by Liliana's words. Instinctually, his hand went out for her (in any other circumstances, really, he might have been a bit offended, that she should choose a tree for support when there was a perfectly good Ignis right there beside her), a worried comment about how he hadn't said anything held back by the realization that she wasn't likely talking to him, a realization that was confirmed a moment later by her more forceful demand and the silence that followed. Oh. Well. That certainly boded well for them, now, didn't it? "Your guess," he said, albeit softly, "would be much better than mine." And, after a moment's hesitation: "Are you alright?"
Liliana	"Ignis?" Liliana whirled around then put her hand to her temple. "How--Why--? Oh. Yes. Of course." He'd accompanied her here. That was why she'd used a portal instead of just Planeswalking. She had briefly forgotten... "I was momentarily overwhelmed," she said, abandoning the tree for the comfort of his arms. "And trying to get my bearings. I regret to inform you I haven't the least idea where we are."
Ignis	If it was even possible, Ignis' frown managed to deepen, but at least he had a firmer grasp on where Liliana was by having a firmer grasp on her literally now. He gave a soft, somewhat disappointed grunt at this news, even if he didn't find it terribly surprising. "Well, then," he said, "I suppose we shall have to go and find out. Take your time, though. Whenever you feel you're ready..." In the meantime, he was going to take a moment and try to parse out what could be helpful from what he could hear, the smaller details about their surroundings that not even someone who didn't have to worry about some cursed artifacts incessant voices in their head might not pick up on unless they knew how to listen for it.
Liliana	This place was wild. Though the animals closest to them had fallen silent at their arrival, further out the area was filled with noises, grunts and howls and songs and calls of all sorts, many that Ignis recognized, others that he most certainly did not, and a few others that just sounded...big. Very big. From the heat and humidity and thick scent of vegetation, it seemed likely that they were in some kind of jungle, heavy and dense that would make walking quite a chore unless they happened upon a game trail. "Ugh," Liliana muttered. "The wilderness. Give me civilization any day." She also looked around. "Well, the good news is that the Onakke temple was in the middle of a jungle. The bad news is, I have no idea how big that jungle was. And the worse news? I don't know how much of Shandalar is jungle, so I haven't the slightest idea if this is even the correct jungle, never mind if we're close to the part I was in." Lacking any better sense of where she was in relation to the ancient catacomb she sought, Liliana started walking. "You'll take me there, won't you?" she asked, taking Ignis' hand. Though no longer talking to him.
Ignis	If the silence from Ignis that followed was any indication, he likely figured as much. With one hand in Liliana's and the other resting ready on the hilt of one of his knives, he followed. In some small part, he almost felt a bit relieved. It saved him the distaste and discomfort of suggesting that a consultation might be their only recourse himself. "I should bloody well hope so," he murmured. "If you're stuck having to listen to their incessant rambling, it's the least they could do to offer something useful."
Liliana	...where the seed took root... The whispers rose just to the edge of her hearing before she quashed them again. "Unless you're giving directions, shut up." She kept walking, one hand remaining in Ignis' and soon enough - as she had expected - a sort of pressure behind one eye steered her to the right. They walked for an hour, perhaps two, a winding and circuitous path; surprisingly, pressure in one eye or another didn't make for particularly helpful directions, especially not in a jungle like this. ...the vessel draws near... "Shut up," she said again. "I'm not a piece of pottery." To Ignis, she added, "They're saying we're getting close." She didn't sound excited about it, but then, a several hour hike through a humid jungle full of bugs was not Liliana's idea of a good time and her temper was high.
Ignis	It was a bit unnerving, if Ignis was honest, to be trekking for so long without much incident, to the point where he was on edge of expressing concern about the futility several times, only to have the direction shift slightly right before the protest could fully work it's way out. But the years of near complacency on the island hadn't dulled his Hunter instincts in the slightest, and, without the visual distinction of the jungle surrounding him, the heat, the humidity, the buzz of insects and the brush of flora against his skin just took him back to the denser areas of Cleigne and Duscae, where one would consider themselves lucky if they were able to get mire than ten minutes along without having to deal with another bout of daemons and Scourge-stricken beasts. The whole thing made him feel so tightly wound that he almost had to breath out with relief once Liliana had news, just to release some of the pressure, even if her enthusiasm was, quite understandably, diminished. "Mm." He nodded, the breath clearly not nearly enough to the loosen the stiffness he'd been carrying. "Good." A flick of his hand against his neck, peevishly pushing a bug away. "I was starting to severely question the efficacy of our current methods."
Liliana	"Effective yes," Liliana grumbled. "Efficient, however...hardly." Her boots had been made for walking for hours through muck and grime and easily cleanable, but her gown was going to require significant cleaning if the last several inches were ever going to be free of the filth on it. She paused to rub at her left temple; she wasn't sure if it was the pressure in her eyes to navigate or the whispering in her head, but she was developing a dreadful headache. Abyss, she was so ready for this to just be over. She had only just begun walking again when the trees and ferns opened up just enough to let an old trail pass through, drawing along it as if the Chain Veil were a rope pulling her forward. "Oh!" she said, startled. "I've been here before." The packed earth showed no sign of the hoof prints her horse must have left before - of course it wouldn't, after so much time. But the scene was printed more firmly in her memory. She'd reached the very spot where some jungle predator had leaped out of the brush and killed her horse on her first visit. "There's a small village about twenty minutes to the west of here. I stopped there on my way to the temple, bought a horse to carry me. But some kind of tusker or maybe a giant boar decided it was hungry and that my horse would be just the thing. It lunged out at us, my horse reared and I fell off and before I could even get up again, the damn thing had torn my horse's throat out." She had barely given a thought to killing it. A single spell had wrapped it in shadow that wrung the life out of it. Like refreshing water on her tongue. If she had known the trouble it would bring her, would she have done it differently? Probably not. "We're very close to the temple, this path will take us there," she continued, as they walked further on. "I killed the first one here for killing my horse and then three more found me in the temple itself. And that's..." She frowned, slowing putting pieces of a puzzle together that should never have been separated in the first place. "That's when Garruk came for me. I don't know if the creatures were his pets or his friends or maybe even his blood-kin considering everything about him as a person, but either way, he wasn't best pleased that they'd been killed. Apparently I should have laid down and been eaten instead, but you know me. Always recalcitrant."
Ignis	"Positively obstinate," Ignis agreed, and there was, perhaps, the faintest hint of some sort of humor returning, no doubt mostly from the consolation that came from having a clear goal finally set out before them. "Though here's to hoping your current companion fares better here than your last. Although I'd like to think, if we were to, out of some sense of narrative irony, have another irritating encounter with the man, we'd get a good whiff of the danger well before it was a concern." Though, as if to make sure, he did seem to take a moment to take a deep breath and sort through the scents that were now quite familiar and already categorized for him from their journey, with maybe a few adjustments made now for their slightly closer proximity to civilization. "Unless, of course," he added dryly, "he's miraculously finally discovered what a bath is..."
Liliana	"Perhaps it's rained recently," Liliana suggested, giving Ignis a merry smile as they continued to walk. "That might get the worst of the stink off of him." The Chain Veil drew them along the path until the ancient catacomb came into view. Or temple, or tomb - whatever it was that housed the catacombs below. Compared to when she'd last visited, it was in poor shape. Her battle with Garruk had left it partly crumbled to rubble. Roots and vines crawled over the fallen stones. A light shone inside that was not there before, golden and pure, and Liliana knew what that meant. She made a face; she could practically smell the angel, self-righteousness and hypocrisy with a light touch of myrrh. "Angel ahead," she muttered to Ignis. "Who knows why it's there. Wasn't when I came by last." The possibility it was there because she had been was not lost upon her.
Ignis	Nor had that possibility escaped Ignis, if the "Can't imagine what could have possibly brought about that change..." murmured not quite under his breath was any indication. "Perhaps," he then suggested, "it would be wise to let me lead the conversation on this one, my darling." He wasn't entirely sure how much variation there was with angels from plane to plane, but, judging by Liliana's reaction, he doubted those differences mattered much in the grand scheme of things.
Ugh, An Angel	The angel looked up when they approached. Her face was already composing itself to stern lines when she spotted Ignis, shoulders squaring, sword raising to halt them, but it shifted to one of disgust when she saw Liliana as well. "Stop, defiler," the angel spat. "You can go no farther."
Liliana	Liliana just looked at Ignis. "Have fun with this," she said.
Ignis	Oh, and that was a look Ignis could feel. The only indication, however, he would allow that he'd even been remotely aware of its presence was a straightening of his own shoulders (marginally; his posture hadn't slack from ready and alert since stepping through the portal) and a confident, almost defiant lift of his chin. Whether the thing he was defying was Liliana or a small twinge of regret in his claim to handle this portion, he wasn't entirely certain. "The necromancer," he stated, "I understand, but surely the way isn't barred for all..."
The Angel, Still Alive For Some Reason	'The necromancer' was getting him another look. "It is indeed," the angel said, her sword no longer held in a warning position but a guard. "And even if it were not, why should I open it to the companion of one such as--" Her lip curled and she gestured with her chin to Liliana. "--that?"
Ignis	And now Ignis did allow himself a sigh, although he didn't have to dig deep at all to pull it from performative and tap into the genuine frustration that came from starting to understand that Liliana's biases weren't entirely unfounded from his own limited experiences with angels thus far, in addition to a tense, tedious long journey through a hot and sticky jungle. Pointedly, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I was rather hoping," he drawled, with a voice positively dripping with his disappointment, "that the art of diplomacy in these lands wasn't so dead that I would need a necromancer, but if this truly is the abysmal state of affairs, then perhaps it's a good thing I came prepared, after all..."
Liliana	Liliana outright laughed at that, the angel glancing over to her to give her a fulminating glare. Her knuckles tightened on her sword, but she refused to give into violence. "Only the truly depraved would need a necromancer to do their diplomacy for them!" she declared. "...Did I mention, my darling, that in addition to angels being incredibly tiresome, they also lack a sense of humor? It takes cleverness to appreciate wit and, well..." Liliana gestured. "You understand."
Ignis	"Mmm." That persistent, rumbling thoughtful hum of his, though, try as he might, Ignis couldn't keep the slightest curve out of the corner of his mouth, for the victory that that laugh was. Especially when he had the feeling he needed to enjoy those while he could in this whole...ordeal. "And what do you make of those," he postulated, "who leave others with no other option but to resort to such depravity?"
Soon-To-Be-Pillow-Stuffing	"There is always a choice," the angel declared harshly. "It is a choice to become a death mage, to consort with the rotten and the filth - a choice every step you take down that accursed path! And it is also a choice to consort with them. Denounce your association with the unclean, mortal, while you still have time!" Ignis, with his understanding of Liliana and her patience, could probably guess that she was rapidly running out of it.
Ignis	And Liliana, with her understanding of Ignis and his patience, could probably guess that he still had an obscene amount left to spare. Not that anyone could tell, by the brusque growl of his own harsh retort. "Our entry," he said, "is nonnegotiable. We will proceed. The choice, then, my lady, is yours, and we've given you ample chance. Do we do this peacefully? Or do we drag you into depravity with us? And, I assure you, our arguments will be stunningly more convincing than your own thus far."
Self-righteous Obnoxiousness Personified	"If you try to force your way through, I will stop you," the angel said, sword extending to point at Ignis. "Your blood will soak the ground before--" The rest of the angel's threat was swallowed as a blast of raw necromantic energy slammed into her, shattering her wings and flaying much of the skin from her bones.
Liliana	"Your first mistake was being an angel," Liliana said conversationally, stepping forward as the Chain Veil chimed against her hip. "The second was thinking you could stop me from going anywhere I chose. But the third and most unforgivable? Was threatening my paramour." Her tone had ceased to be conversational.
Ignis	Ignis couldn't tell exactly what had happened, but only that something had, and that was, ultimately, what mattered. The breath he released was, admittedly, not relief over just the likely terminus of this conversation finally. "Thank you, my darling," he said, drawing a knife to have on the ready. "At least we can't say she wasn't given options."
Liliana	Not quite yet, unfortunately. Angels were obnoxious like that. Liliana slid her arm through the cook of Ignis' elbow and stepped forward. The angel looked up, despairing - but then her eyes focused not on Liliana, but the Veil. "You!" the angel gasped. "You know me?" No, that didn't seem right. "Ah. You know what I wear, more likely." "Please, for the sake of your soul--" "The only thing that matters to me about my soul is that it stay with my body for a good long while." "You don't know what's at stake," the angel said, a pleading note entering the cloying melody of her voice. "I've heard that before. They were just about Kothophed's last words. And apparently yours as well."
Dying Angel	"...vessel," the angel said with obvious effort.
Liliana	Liliana missed a step at that, stumbling before whirling around to demand. "What did you say?" "You...the vessel...holding them...freeing them..." The whispers in her head became a roaring chorus of voices drowning out whatever else the angel might have said with her dying breath. Liliana cried out in agony, driven to the ground by the sudden, lashing pain. In all their clamor, only three words rose above the din to clarity in her mind: Root...Vessel...Veil.
Ignis	"Liliana!" Ignis had already reached out for her slightly when she stumbled, and the next he knew, she was collapsing to the ground quicker than he could catch her. But he at least tried, throwing his weight under her to at least ease her descent, to avoid adding its impact to the pain of whatever had clearly stricken her. For a moment, anyway, because as soon as he felt he could, he was turning on the angle, reaching out to grab at her now with a blade ready, the first ripples of fire dancing along it. "What did you do--" But it was, he realized, with the lifeless way the body responded to his grasping pull, that it was too late; the fire extinguished off his blade, as the understanding that it was likely not the angel at all who'd done anything in that moment. He sucked in a breath, sheathing the knife again as he returned to Liliana's side, with both hands now free to carefully help her up and offer his strength to hold her up, should she need it. The temptation rose in him to then use his support to turn around and guide Liliana away from this place. But to have come this far, just to turn away. She'd never forgive him. He'd never forgive himself. The only way to ever expect to get out of this was just to keep moving forward. "Come on," he said, gritting his teeth, voice a low, determined growl, mostly to himself than to Liliana. "We're almost there..."
Liliana	Liliana slumped in Ignis' arms, clutching her head in her hands and trying to silence the Onakke spirits clamoring in her mind. "Stop it! Stop it! Shut up!" But her protests did nothing to quell their riot, even with her hands over her ears, eyes screwed tight with pain. Then something dripped onto her neck and the voices fell silent, all at once. She opened her eyes and saw blood everywhere, seeping from every line Kothophed had etched in her skin, joining in tiny rivulets down her arms. She pulled hands sticky with blood away from her hair and sighed, partially in relief from the cessation of noise, partially in frustration at the bleeding. "This again," she muttered as she was helped to her feet. The same thing had happened after she killed Kothophed, and again after Griselbrand. Drawing too much power from the Chain Veil was not just painful, but...so messy. "I'm..." Well, 'all right' seemed to be a bit of a stretch that Ignis would scoff at. "Better. Apologies for the unseemly behavior. And the mess." A bit stiffly formal, as if that would be enough to offset the painful vulnerability of the moment before. It took a few steps for her to be able to walk under her own power, but she did, clinging to the vestiges of her pride to keep herself upright, back straight.
Ignis	"You're bleeding." Ignis realized that the dreadfully familiar scent wafting into his nostrils was not, in fact, coming from whatever she'd done to the angel, but from Liliana herself, confirmed by a new sticky dampness on his shirt where he'd held her up, and then confirmed by her very own words. He began to regret not turning back, considered attempting the change of course now, better late than too late, but then she was moving forward, moving away from him. That stiffness in her voice, the stiffness of her posture....His hand followed her, for a moment, before falling away with a deep intake of breath. But with his hands free, he could draw his weapons again, and soon, those hands were also engulfed with the faint warmth of the flames wreathed around them. "Liliana..." he said. A warning? A reminder? An agreement or a vow? He wasn't entirely sure himself. He supposed he'd just have to wait for what happened next to find out.
Liliana	She was a proud woman, Ignis, you knew this. "The only way out is through," she said, unknowingly mirroring his thought from earlier. Gathering her strength, every joint burning in protest as more blood seeped from her skin, she turned her attention to the rubble-choked tunnel that led to the catacombs where she first discovered the Veil.

Liliana	...the vessel returns...harbinger...carrying destruction... The whispers came back as she ducked her head and stepped over the rubble to enter the tunnel. Footing was difficult and treacherous, the aftermath of her battle with Garruk that had destroyed so much of the temple. It was quiet going, if one ignored the tumult in her head, Liliana only giving the occasional grunt of effort to keep her footing. Even the soft plink plink of blood drops falling onto stone quieted as it turned into a steady stream, the bleeding growing worse. A twisting descent led them back to the vaulted chamber with its stately columns and glowing block of stone - an altar, she supposed - where the Chain Veil had lain. "I've brought it back," she said, taking the veil from her side. The soft clanking of the chains echoed in the hall. "I don't think I want it anymore." "...just a child...unimaginable..." The whispers echoed through the catacombs as well, no longer confined to her thoughts. "Trust me, I've tasted its power. It's really something. Great work." She moved to stand next to the altar and hesitated, staring down at the veil in her hands. She had thought it was the key to her freedom, and indeed, it had helped her free herself from two of her four demonic masters. She had thought to use its power to kill the other two as well, to end the bargain that bound her to them, body and soul. "But I seem to have killed two masters and taken on a million more," she said. "I'm not your damned vessel." "...a million in one..." She laid the Chain Veil on the altar, but kept hold of one edge.
Ignis	Focus on your steps, Scientia. There was a voice now inside Ignis' head, too, his very own, focused and determined. Do not count, do not measure, as those drops turn into ounces, those ounces to cups, those cups into veritable gallons....surely, you are mistaken, anyway. Mere condensation from the thick jungle humidity, underground trickles of moisture squeezed from stone and soil... He counted anyway. It couldn't be helped. Especially not when it was the scent of Liliana's blood that was keeping him anchored to her to follow her through the tunnel, down into the chamber. He breathed out on relief once the space opened up, giving him more to focus on, feeling the openings, taking stock of the elements other than Liliana's ragged condition no doubt worsening with each and every step. A chance to peel away from her tortured state in seeking out the state of the chamber: oddities, blind spots, potential troubles and traps, a gauge on the distances, height, pouring almost everything into canvassing the area invisible own way, to be prepared for anything as Liliana made her way forward toward the alter. He eventually settled into a ready position, facing where they'd just emerged, back to back, listening carefully, feeling what he could. But mostly, at that moment, there was just a feeling of pride at her words, relief as he heard the shifting of the Veil, and then a tenseness as it was lowered onto the alter, his grip on his raised blades tightening, fire murmuring softly under it all. Because there was no way they were going to make it that easy...
Liliana	Wouldn't it be so nice if they did, though? "I don't know what you thought I was going to do for you," she said, "but I don't do errands for anyone. Not anymore." "...the vessel of destruction..." She pulled her hand back—and realized with surprise that she still held the veil. "No. I'm not playing this game." She tried to open her hand, to let the thing drop, but her fingers wouldn't obey her will. She moved it from her right hand to her left easily enough, but her left hand was just as recalcitrant. "Stupid hands! Don't you know who's in charge here?" The purplish light of the glowing altar filtering through the Chain Veil created the fleeting impression of an inhuman face behind the veil.
Ignis	"Liliana..." Ignis voice was low and quiet with urgency. Impatience, almost, a tension he tried to loosen with a roll of his fingers along the hilt of her knives. "What's going on?" Oh, he could deduce what was going on very easily. He even had a small list of potential actions building up behind that impatience. A part of him felt that, with her current condition, he needed to act....and now! But another part of him knew that, even in her current condition, Liliana had said it herself, hadn't she? He knew who was in charge here. (For better or worse). He would await instructions. (Though her window of opportunity for them was closing very quickly...)
Liliana	Liliana startled. For a moment, she'd been concentrating so hard she'd forgotten Ignis was here. Even his voice had briefly sounded strange to her ears, unknown almost. "I...I can't let it go," she gritted out, the Chain Veil chiming wildly in her hand as she tried to shake it off, the way she'd do if something gross had attached itself there. "It's not letting me." A few more fruitless moments and she'd had just about enough. "All right, trying something else," she declared. "Some jumped up piece of jewelry isn't the boss of Liliana Vess." Turning on her heel, she retraced their steps to the outer chamber, where the angel's flayed corpse still lay. Ignoring it, Liliana turned to one of the gigantic ogre skeletons standing silent watch over the place. "You'll do," she said, jabbing her finger toward it. With a shudder, it came to attention and stepped toward her. "Take this," she said, holding the veil up toward it. The skeleton lumbered forward and reached for the veil. An instant before its bony hand closed over it, Liliana yanked it away. "No!" Fuck. This time the gritting of her teeth became grinding.
Ignis	Ignis had just finished pulling his magic out of his daggers, had just slipped them back into their sheaths so that he could offer his assistance, when that declaration was made and he was getting a waft of her as she was passing by, just the way they came. "Liliana--" But the second word faded from his lips before he could get it out, realizing it would be useless, and he just sighed and pulled his daggers back out again as he stalked after her, head rolling with ideas, none of them pleasant, first and foremost just hoping whatever she was cooking up now would prove more fruitful. The sound of her voice over the chiming of the Veil as it moved out of the skeletons reach made him wince. He stepped closer, two fingers reaching out to gently brush her elbow. "Do you think perhaps I should try?" A suggestion that wasn't really a suggestion; he felt he knew what Liliana would make of that one. But it was an option, all the same, and one far more palatable than the other solution floating into his head.
Liliana	With a mighty effort of will, she once again held the veil up to the skeleton. "Take--" she began as the Onakkke skeleton reached for the Veil. And then Ignis suggested he try. "No!" she repeated, recoiling from his touch, hands snatching back to her chest. "You can't, it will kill you, we talked about this!" She was so busy glaring at him that it took a moment for her to realize that the hands she'd snatched back were empty. Not until she crossed her arms over her chest with a huff did it sink in. "You have hit the maximum number of tragically loyal sacrifices you're allowed--" Then she laughed, pure and joyful. "I did it!" she said. "That did it. The skeleton has the Veil! You brilliant man, thank you." To the skeleton, she pointed to the open tunnel and ordered, "Take it down there," before sweeping cupping Ignis' face in bloody hands and kissing him soundly. Yes, she looked like a horrorshow and probably tasted like one, too, but the Veil was gone and she was free! She was too busy kissing him to realize that the skeleton hadn't moved.
Ignis	It wasn't so much the taste for Ignis (he had, after all, in those moments of dwelling in the deepest corners of his mind, coming around to the realization that he might rather have to get used to that taste) but the scent of her blood, that made this difficult, or the feel of it, if his hands lingered anywhere longer than that initial light touch. Almost as overwhelming as his confusion in that moment, really. He realized that, when he made the offer, he honestly expected that it was that potential forfeiture of power to someone else that would lead her rejection of the offer. And when she recoiled from him the way she did, he thought, at first, that was the reason, but then she was reprimanding him, and then she was laughing, and then she was kissing him... And then all he could do was kiss her back, and even the concern about touching her with all that blood was completely obliterated the moment both his hands found her hips, both of them, with no Chain Veil there to deftly avoid on their way to the small of her back.
Liliana	"You would offer such nonsense," she grumbled, finally pulling away from him. "And now you shall be dreadfully smug, since that nonsense wo--" She stopped, frowning, staring at the skeleton that was still where it had been standing before. It held the veil almost gingerly in its enormous hands, its empty eye sockets fixed on her. "What are you still doing here?" she asked. "I told you to go." It did not move. "Get it away from me," she said. Still it didn't move. "Fine. You don't want to move? Then just stay here. We'll leave." Slipping her bleeding arm through Ignis', Liliana turned and walked to the entrance, but the skeleton followed, footsteps clattering as bone hit stone. Without turning around, she said, "I told you to stay here. If you can't follow my orders, you're useless to me." She lifted a hand and snapped her fingers, and the skeleton crumpled to the floor, robbed of the magic that had given it the semblance of life. As it fell, though, it lunged forward and hung the veil over her upraised arm. She stared at the Veil in horror as bones clattered to the floor all around her.
Ignis	None of this was doing much to help Ignis alleviate the deepening of his frown, just as the swipe of the back of his hand against his mouth did little to wipe away the lingering taste of coppery blood. And there was no denying a significantly unsettling shift in Liliana's disposition, her posture, the absolute melting away of that triumph into confusion, then frustration, and now... "What?" he asked, already dreading the answer. "What is it?"
Liliana	Silence descended on the mausoleum as the bones settled back to rest and Liliana found herself without words. She tried to answer Ignis, she really and truly tried, but no words came. She just kept staring at the Veil once again wrapped around her arm. But then the silence broke - as it always did these days - as the voices of the Veil resumed their whispering. ...shall rain...root of evil...annihilation... She fell to her knees and clutched her hands to her ears, trying in vain to silence the voices. "Stop, just stop, please just stop..." No longer demanding, but pleading.
Onakke Guardian Spirit	"Vessel," came one voice, clear and loud - just the single word and it paused as if awaiting a response, the voice not coming from the whispers in her head or even a sourceless whisper from around them they'd been just a moment ago, but from directly in front of where Liliana and Ignis had stopped. Another Onakke skeleton towered over them both, nearly ten feet tall. The original skeleton she'd enchanted to take the Veil from her lay crumbling to dust, but this one stood firm, bones neither pitted nor yellowed by age. Even as she looked, it changed: sinews wrapped the bones and tied them together, muscle and organs, blood vessels and finally skin clothed the skeleton until a whole ogre stood above her, looking down at them both. "Vessel," it said again.
Ignis	"Liliana!" Ignis rushed to her side, kneeling down beside her with one arm, protectively (futilely, more accurately, he was sure) around her and the other holding his weapon tight and ready to his other side. For a wild moment, he thought that maybe he should just take the blasted thing. Yes, it might kill him, but the Ring of the Lucii was supposed to have killed him when he wore it, as well, and, clearly he'd still managed to walk away from that, albeit a bit worse off than he would have been otherwise. And then, for another wild moment, thinking of how the Veil seemed so insistent on staying with Liliana and therefore maybe he wouldn't even be able to take it, he thought, with his knife, he could just-- Thankfully, neither of those wild thoughts had much time to grow and be pushed into desperate action, with his attention shifting to the presence of that looming creature, and its firm and insistent voice, which pushed him into a much different desperate action instead. Leaving Liliana's side, pulling out his other dagger, and wasting not even a moment's hesitation, attacked.
Onakke Guardian Spirit	Good, because Liliana probably wouldn't have forgiven him for either. But those might-have-beens didn't need to be considered because they didn't come to pass, Ignis leaping to attack the Onakke. The great creature did not move, neither to dodge the blades nor in preparation for pain, simply stood there, stoic and immoveable as Ignis' daggers bit deep into his flesh, carving furrows that would be, should be fatal. The scent of more blood hit their noses, though the scent was oddly bitter, and clearly inhuman. "Feel better, mortal?" the Onakke rumbled as his wounds closed up with the same efficiency as he had been rebuilt moments before. "Or does the murder in your heart stain as deep as our vessel's?"
Liliana	Liliana sprang to her feet, impotent fury giving her new strength. "I am not your vessel!" With the last word, she sent tendrils of shadow to wrap around the creature and squeeze the life out of it.
Ignis	"She is not your vessel!" Ignis growled, his words overlapping with Liliana's own exact sentiment. But, realizing how little the daggers did, he pushed himself back a moment, his mind already trying to think of other ways to approach the matter. Relentless, tireless attacks, wear him down? Surely, the creature could outlast him in tgat regard, but if he could weaken it enough for Liliana to... The sound of the Veil shifted his attention back toward them again. "Just take it back," he murmured, surprising himself, a little, that his thoughts had been given a firm, demanding voice. "It isn't wanted."
Onakke Guardian Spirit	Instead, the tendrils passed right through it and dissolved into oily black liquid that splashed onto the floor. "We are beyond the reach of your magic," the Onakke said. "Moreso than his knives. Even though you wear our Veil."
Liliana	At that, Liliana realized that she was, in fact, wearing the fine chain mesh, though she couldn't remember draping it over her face. She gasped. "When did I--?!" Yanking it off her head, heedless of the several strands of long black hair it took with it, she held it out toward the ogre. "If it's your Veil," she said, and then echoed Ignis' sentiment, "why don't you take it back?"
Onakke Guardian Spirit	"The Veil of Deceit is of no use to us, vessel. Not yet." "Well, I don't want it either. Take it." Once again she tried to drop it, once again her hand wouldn't let it go. "You want it. Your hands know it, although you mind can't see it yet." "Yet," she repeated. "What are you waiting for?" "The root has not yet come to full flower in you, vessel." "What root?" "The root that was planted in you so many years ago, when you killed your brother."
Liliana	Another blast of shadows erupted from Liliana with barely a thought from her, this one more effective—the dark tendrils pulled and tore at the incorporeal substance of the Onakke spirit. But if it felt pain, it showed no sign of it. "What do you know of my brother?" she shouted. "Get out of my damned head!" "We have no other place to go, vessel." "Vessel. So I'm carrying you around with me. What does that have to do with my brother?"
Onakke Guardian Spirit	The room filled with a low snuffling, wheezing sound as the spirit laughed at her. More shadowy tendrils sprang from Liliana's hand to tear at its ghostly form, but still it laughed. "What's so damned funny?" she demanded. "The Veil of Deceit is but one more lie in a life built on lies," he said, his voice tight with pain. from her lashing. "Soon enough, the time will come. You will finally see clearly." "Oh? And then what?" "Then the root will come to flower, and the destruction you carry within you will bloom forth."
Liliana	Liliana smirked. "Is that all? That sounds like fun."
Onakke	"Yes, you like to destroy, to toy with the boundaries between life and death. So easily you consign others to the void, and so blithely you call them back to serve you." Liliana shrugged. "Everyone dies." "But not you," the spirit whispered, and a shiver washed down Liliana's spine. "Everything you've done has been to avoid following Josu into the void. Your magic, your schemes. Your pacts."
Liliana	"That's enough," she said. "You live in my head, so you think you know me. You don't. And you don't know what I can do." Three attacks against the spirit had been enough - or had there been four? Her count had gotten confused somewhere. Still, she knew then what it would take to really hurt the thing, and she drew on all the power of the Chain Veil to do it. Reaching toward the Onakke, she pinched her fingers together as if extinguishing a candle. More blood gushed in the engraved lines that swirled across her skin, and pain roared in every nerve. And like a snuffed candle flame, the spirit vanished. Silence fell once more over the still tomb. Liliana sank to her knees again, cradling her bloody arms across her chest. "What a mess," she whispered, her soft voice echoing in the chamber. "It's getting worse. I don't know what--" Something moved at the edge of her vision, drawing her gaze to the mausoleum doorway.
Ignis	As the exchange took place between Liliana and the ogre, Ignis maintained that tight stillness of a well-wound spring. Not quite ready to unspool at the slightest provocation, though, but waiting for just the right one. Their words became just another factor in the scene he was carefully constructing and weighing in his mind, moving past their voices to other little sounds, movements, shifting of energies and even sounds. His fingers on his left hand thrummed gently against the hilt of his daggers with indecision, trying to decide which element to add to the attack he knew was inevitable. Just a matter of time. When in doubt, fire was his strongest, but was it the right choice now? "You don't know what I can do." That. There. The moment he was waiting for, the moment when the conversation would turn demonstrative, the moment before Liliana would strike again. And his plan was to attack right after her, but he'd barely moved forward, the flames had only just started to dance moves from his hands along the length of his blades, when the energy he'd been so meticulously tracking suddenly dropped, and the presence of the spirit along with it, nothing but a vacant space. Again, the magic retreated back into Ignis, and, again, the space shifted. He hurried over to Liliana's side again, too slow to have caught her, but arms immediately around her protectively. Words of reassurance paused for her whisper, resurfacing again as she stopped, though quieted again as his attention followed where he could feel that hers had gone.

***
Looking through the doorway, Liliana saw that the verdant forest that had grown up nearly to the mausoleum's entrance was, well, not gone, but pushed back, cleared away to make room for proud buildings that had been crumbling heaps of rubble mere moments before. People were walking around among the buildings, going about the normal business of life. No, not people. Ogres. Ogres with enormous, curling horns or tusks jutting from their heads, like the skeletons behind her. Like the spirit she had just banished. The Onakke.

The whispers of the Chain Veil in her mind were displaced by the hubbub of a marketplace outside. As darkness settled over the jungle, merchants and artificers were packing up their goods and starting to disperse. Liliana saw spectacular artistry in every booth and cart, the work of artisans whose awkward size belied their incredible talent. The buildings, no longer choked with jungle growth and worn by the passing ages, were elegant and stately, decorated with masterful carvings showing all aspects of life—hunting and war, sowing and reaping, feasts and what she assumed were religious rites, childbirth and sex.

"I really didn't need to see that," she muttered.

***

Onakke Ancient	Once again, an Onakke skeleton stepped forward, this one even taller than the last, and once muscles and tissues and skin had reformed, finery wrapped around him as well; finely tanned and tooled leathers, jewelry of incredible craftsmanship, streaks and whorls of colors tattooing his skin. "You," the spirit intoned to Ignis, his voice a deep baritone instead of the previous Onakke's bass so deep it vibrated in their bones. "The piece we did not account for. The gold amidst the cracks."
Ignis	And there was very little doubt in Ignis' mind that this conversation was clearly meant for him. For a brief moment, he wondered if he should stand again to address the next ~~irritation~~ spirit, but he remained staunch at Liliana's side. "Gold," he stated, "seems a bit over-complimentary, but I do appreciate the reference. Would it be a bit too....optimistically presumptuous of me to hope this means you've all finally decided to try and approach this more reasonably?"
Onakke Ancient	"I have come to ask you the same," the great Onakke rumbled. "The Vessel is ours, promised to us ages ago. The distraction you provide keeps her from fulfilling her greatest purpose." He raised an arm to point to the doorway that Liliana was staring through, eyes fixed on nothing. "You are an entertainment that has grown into an irritant. Go. There is nothing for you here."
Ignis	Ignis took a moment, breathing out, allowing himself a brief calm before the storm, sparks crackling along his fingertips. His hand fell on Liliana's slick, blood-sticky shoulder, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze of reassurance. Because this was no longer something he could just take kneeling down. "Then clearly," he stated, his voice dropping down into that deep, rough, dangerous register, the one that waited at the end of the long, long line of his patience, "you didn't read the finer print." Now on his feet, he turned toward the Onakke, blades to his side. After so many false starts, he didn't even need to do anything to wreath them with fire; the flames leapt to the blades with a decided eagerness. "Liliana Vess," he stated, and if any voice echoed through the chamber now, it was undeniably his, dredged up from the deepest pits of his fiery fury, "is beholden to <>ino one! And what is here for me now," that fire dropped into an slow, glacial coldness, and his weapons followed suite, "is...everything." And he'd had enough. It was time to be done with this riff-raff. He darted forward, taking one swift step to launch himself up. He leaped up as high as the space would allow, his daggers lifting up over his head as they frantically cycled between elements--red, yellow, blue; fire, lightning, ice--unable to settle on a single one. Perhaps they would have, by the time he plunged them down into this antagonist. Perhaps not. Ignis was beyond caring about anything but hitting his mark. And he oh-so-rarely missed.
Onakke Ancient	And he didn't miss today. Yet more of that bitter-smelling, inhuman blood hit the ground in slushy, half-frozen drops. The smell of ozone rose in the air as electricity danced between those bits of exquisite metal jewelry, and paint bubbled and melted from contact with flame. The ogre grunted, a low, animalistic sound, staggering backwards under the onslaught. Once away from the daggers, he healed, the furrows in his skin closing, the jewelry reforming, the paint once again pristine. "So you say." His voice was low, forbidding. "So you wish. But you know better. She doesn't need you. How long before she doesn't want you, either? She may moan your name in her bed, but that's an easy enough replacement. She's done it before."
Ignis	Ignis sprang back the moment his feet touched the ground again, to catch his breath, to tilt his head and stretch out the tension building in his neck, readjust his grip on his daggers with hands that felt rough and raw from the magic that had been coursing through them. He then let out a soft huff, faintly incredulous. Was this the strategy, then? To talk his ears off with things he already knew? An attempt to render his him deaf next, with words he already told himself nearly ever single day? A very poor tactic, indeed. Almost disappointing. Let him talk, then. And while this Onakke was busy treading over old news that he, quite frankly, didn't have the time or any patience left for, he thought about his next move. And the move after that. And the move after that. Because, clearly, he would have healed, just like the last one, which meant he would have to be unrelenting, untiring, unstoppable. He prepared himself again, blades bare and gleaming with only steel now, to reserve his resources for the ceaseless attack and not drain his energy more than necessary, and rushed forward again. He went low this time, slashing those daggers in a wine sweep at his legs and then flipping back, putting a little extra spring in it so that if the stretch of his long legs just so happened to double as a kick, then so be it. He didn't wait a second after to charge back in, digging his knives into his chest, then using them firmly embedded there as leverage to kick back into another flip, over the Onakke, tearing the daggers out from where he'd sunk them roughly along the way. As he descended on the other side, the daggers went down again, biting into his shoulders and dragging down with him as Ignis allowed gravity to do the hard work, just as he had with Garruk however long ago, and, when he reached the ground, tearing them right back out and sliding this time for the presumed soft tendons at his heels. All without a single word. Did he have a clever retort or biting banter behind his teeth. Naturally. But he didn't spend as much time with an angler as he had to not recognize bait, and, quite frankly, he'd rather not waste it (or the energy) on the likes of this.
Onakke Ancient	The Onakke bellowed in pain, starting to topple as his tendons parted. But his size and bulk belied a surprising speed and dexterity, and even falling he managed to lash out behind him, arms disproportionately long for his body and backed with the kind of strength that could break birch trees in half. His elbow snapped backwards, followed by his fist, swinging like a pendulum under his arm, goal not to harm Ignis exactly but to send him flying backwards. "You meddle in things you do not understand, mortal!" he roared. "Or do you care as little for her life as you do your own pride?"
Ignis	And it was true, when Ignis found himself all but running straight into that swinging pendulum of a fist in his attempts to rush in with his next attack, it wasn't that that hurt, but rather the wall he was thrown back into. There was a gasp at the air knocked out of his lungs, but when Ignis' feet found the floor again, he wouldn't allow the rest of him to follow. He pulled himself upright, shaking some of the disturbed dust out of his hair. If he possessed vision, he was sure that stars would be dancing across it. But he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. "Yes, yes," he said, in the drawing, impatient tone of an eyeroll that would have been a bit more effective, no doubt, with the cough that accompanied it, "I've heard that one before. You lot really do just blather on without saying anything of substance, don't you? No wonder she's so ready to be rid of you once and for all, having to listen to this incompetent droning all bloody day!" The rant served well to get him flared up again, in both spirit and weapon, dashing forward with daggers blazing as he swiftly went to slash at the spirit again, the impact just a temporary set-back, and feet now knowing how to carry himself to better avoid a repeat if his misstep.
Kurkesh, Onakke Ancient	Like the time before, the Onakke had healed all the damage Ignis had inflicted; though this time far more slowly. The paint was still spreading over his skin when those blazing daggers sliced through his midsection, the sizzle and scent of burning meat wafting up towards their nostrils. His shout was laced with agony as the daggers drew backwards, the flame burning the blood off the blade even as they continued to carve through flesh and tendon and muscle. "I am Kurkesh of the Onakke," he bellowed, swinging one of his massive arms to catch Ignis in the solar plexus and, when he doubled over, reached with the other to grasp him by his throat. "I tried words to convince you to leave the Vessel to us. Since you refused..." Again he flung Ignis across the catacomb, this time deliberately and aiming for a wall.
Ignis	"Your diplomatic tactics leave--" Ignis started to growl out his retort, the lower rumbling far more to deal with that hit to the chest than any guttural rage or intimidation tactic, but that was as far as he got before his throat was seized and any further words words were choked down in that tight, albeit blessedly brief grasp, morphing instead in a pain-filled grunt. In that moment, he instinctually squirmed to no avail, and by the time he lifted one of his blade to slash himself free, he was being thrown back. One thought manifested before he hit the wall, a simple hope that he'd at least gotten a good nick into Kurkesh's wrist before he was tossed aside like a ragdoll. Two thoughts manifested when he hit the wall, the first being that the impact was incredibly painful, and the next was that he had to keep on his feet as he felt himself sliding down to the ground. His legs, this time, wouldn't obey, and now there were stars, even in the darkness, but they were fading as quickly as they had burst through his head, and with them, as they retreated, one lost thought manifested: No, I can't. I mustn't-- And after that.... Nothing. Nothing at all.

***
But something was happening. Ogres were standing still, looking around, cocking their heads to listen. Then Liliana heard it, too, a low roar in the distance, but growing louder with each second. Across the square, she saw one ogre running wild-eyed out of the jungle, shouting words she couldn't make out as those nearest to him dropped their goods and launched into a mad scramble.

The running ogre fell on his face, but his body sloshed forward as if melted, turning into a black smear on the ground around a scattering of bones. And around him roiled a purplish cloud that washed over the remains and surged onward, extending new tendrils ahead of it as though it were dragging itself along the ground.

And every ogre it touched suffered the same deliquescent fate.

The sun had made way for a field of gleaming stars, but even they seemed restless amid the chaos of the market. A cascade of meteors streaked across the sky as the Onakke were utterly obliterated before her eyes. In mere moments, an entire society - an entire race - was gone, caught in a spell that dwarfed any working she had ever done.

***

Raven	A bird croaked nearby, a raven, perched on a ledge of a nearby building overlooking the killing field. It cocked its head toward her, the first creature here to notice or acknowledge her presence.
Liliana	"Raven Man," she said. Through the doorway, a bolt of shadow streaked from her outstretched hand toward the raven - and struck only the crumbling rubble where the building had been a moment before. The marketplace was gone, the roiling fog and its Onakke victims, the stately buildings, the hubbub of life and the horror of death. Only the jungle, coming to life again as the sun's last light faded from the sky and the creatures of the night came out to hunt. Liliana turned her face away from the doorway, swallowing hard. "Stop messing with my head," she said. "It's bad enough that I can hear you all the time. I don't want to see you, too." She pushed herself upright on shaking hands, uncertain how much of their trembling had come from witnessing that scene and how much for the ever-widening pool of blood around her. "Not that the scene wasn't lovely, mind you. A masterful stroke of death. That's a trick I wouldn't mind learning. Wipe an entire civilization off the plane with a single spell? Right up my alley."
Kurkesh, Onakke Ancient	"Death comes to all things, Vessel," Kurkesh intoned, eyes narrowing. "Yours has the potential to be equally terrible if you are not careful."
Ignis	Nothing. Nothing at all. But then... Something. The cold was...slow and creeping, much deeper than what he was used to, as it seemed to brush lightly against his skin to pull him out of the swoon, but it was gentle and soft, and so one name was on his lips as they parted. "Liliana?" he asked, and opened his eyes, into the darkness, always the darkness, but, no, there was something there, a specter of light, a face, pulling away from him with icy crystalline tendrils of hair that turned dark with shadows. A face he knew, but not the face he expected. "Gen...Gentiana?" She faded, answering only with the twinkling of icy branches brushing against each other. Then something flashed across his vision-that-was-not-vision, swift and flowing, foxlike, tail streaming behind it, long ears twitching, and the small horn at the center of its head glowing vaguely red among all the wispy blue light lines of its movement. Before he could even begin to process what the creature might be, it was dashing toward him, straight toward him; Ignis felt the urge to wince and throw his arms up to protect himself, but before he could stir enough energy to do so, the creature took a flying leap straight into his chest. The groan he made was more from shock and surprise and impulse than actual pain; in fact, there was no pain, just a warmth spreading all over him, from the point of impact throughout his entire body, slightly tingling. Pressing a hand behind him, Ignis slowly staggered to his feet. Ignis slowly started to stand. His hand reached up, to grapple onto something to pull himself up. In the darkness, he found something, and, through gritted teeth, he clutched onto it, pulling himself up. And again, and again, pulling himself out of some pit, but he was losing his strength, he wasn't sure he couldn't continue. Ignis reached out his hand. Ignis reached out his hand. And found another hand waiting, gripping onto his tightly and pulling him up. "I've got you," said a voice, heartbreakingly, achingly familiar. A blue light started to swirl around Ignis' outstretched hand. Faint purple-black smoke drifted up from behind his glasses. "Noct." "What can I say? I owe you one." Thr sound of his own snort surprised even Ignis. "I'd say a bit more than one." Ignis couldn't see his face. He didn't need to, to see the faint grin that accompanied the huff of a laugh. "You have no idea, Specs." The light around Ignis' hand stretched and solidified, and the cold darkness of his mind was replaced with the oppressive heat of the tomb-- "Pretty fitting, right?" --and the moment Ignis closed his hand around it, the light solidified into a long katana. He didn't waste a single moment; there wasn't a single moment to waste. The sword snapped smoothly to his side as he rushed forward, leaping up to bring it over her head, and the come descending down with the impossibly sharp edge cleaving Kurkesh cleanly in half. Not to take any chances, though, before the whole could even realize it had been split, he landed and swiped sideways across his torso as well, and then, promptly, threw his hand to the side and opened his hand again, the weapon disappearing in a shimmer of blue light and the gentlest whoosh. Almost as gentle, almost as quiet, as his murmured little "Thank you....Noct." But now, to get them out of here.
Liliana	Liliana stared as the Onakke in front of her was cut into quarters and fell to the ground in front of her, vanishing upon contact. And then she blinked up at the man standing in front of her, looking at him as if she'd never seen him before. Aside from their breathing, the tomb was still. Silent. She looked around, half expecting the spirit to reappear, but nothing moved except swirling dust. A long moment stretched out between them and then she shook her head, wincing slightly. "...Ignis?" she asked like she wasn't entirely sure. "What happened?"
Ignis	Ignis let out a breath, as if that suspended moment had held him, too, and now that it was broken, all the aching pain of the battery he'd taken came flooding back, hitting him like a wave. A wave that he ignored, that he forced himself to push through, as he approached Liliana. "Someone meddled in things they do not understand," he said, the rawness of his voice only in part from his brief strangulation, and he held out one hand for Liliana's, another to help guide her to her feet. "But we should leave now, while we have the opportunity. You've lost a lot of blood and I...have most certainly broken...several things."
Liliana	"Is it done?" she asked him, allowing him to assist her rise, though carefully so she did not provide undue weight upon him. And when she was standing, she put her hands to his face, like she was memorizing each feature, before they dropped to his body and with a gentleness she'd learned almost two hundred years ago and had rarely used since, searched for injuries. "Yes. We should...go." No more whispers? Her own body was sticky with drying blood, but the wounds themselves had closed, leaving her pale(r), cold(er), and shaking. Withdrawing her hands from him, she removed the Chain Veil from her face, turning it over and over in front of her. "Maybe now..." she murmured. She held the Veil at arm's length and dropped it to the floor. Or, well. Tried to drop it. "Damn," she whispered, too tired and aching everywhere to give it more vehemence. Instead, she looped her arm through Ignis' and they shuffled out the door into the jungle night, clutching the Veil at her side. ...swallowed up...annihilation... The whispers, barely audible in her mind, began as soon as she set foot on the soft earth. Shut up, she thought, not wanting to speak aloud. Ignis had enough to worry about already. ...You carry the seed of destruction... Yes, I know. The world began to swim in front of her eyes as she swayed. She didn't know where they was going. Possibly the portal? She just wanted to be away from Shandalar, away from the mausoleum, away from her utter defeat. And as they made their way down an overgrown road, she couldn't help but wonder if she had taken into herself the one thing she had spent her whole life trying to avoid.