Deep in the depths of the long silent castle, past the unlit halls, under the vast and empty auditorium, passed three harrowing barriers and far below the ground. Through a dark and dreary corridor, layered thickly in dirt and ash, Aberdeen marched towards the bottom of the almost bottomless stairway. The crimson light of the flame that engulfed his hand barely illuminated his grim expression and the sloping steps beneath his feet. The faint puddles reflected the red light of the flickering flame.
The sound of his footsteps came sharp and crisp, a sound that would claw at the minds of any who heard it. Inducing seizure's in those less flexible of mind. This was the fourth barrier Aberdeen had to pass through before he could reach the Telalhs Vault; the stairway of silence. A league's walk of auditory torture. Sounds so piercing that they drew blood from his ears. Close to an hour after he began his descent, taking the stairs four at a time, he was stood before a titanic door. Close to the size of 10 of him. The gate bore the likeness of a large snake-like beast with a blade for a tail, six limbs and a crown-like protrusion of horns atop its head carved into it's pale white surface. This was the oldest of the Great Snakes. The Snake of Darkness; Kam'erran.
Stood before this gate, Aberdeen's expression darkened. His jaw clenched as he faced the final barrier of the Telalhs Vault; Thalassa's Gate. An artifact spoken of in children's horror stories. Mothers would threaten to seal their wayward spawn behind it as punishment. Not much of it's composition was know. However, there was one aspect that was undeniably true. A layer of the first Great Snake's skin formed the inner core of the door. Emitting a fragment of it's malice. A concept so potent it could interfere with the physical plane, rending metal and flaying bone.
This very same malice, albeit a mere fragment, bore down on Aberdeen like a waterfall of pure liquid Iron. It crushed down on his shoulders with almost enough strength to force him to his knees. Thankfully it was only 'almost'. If it had brough him to his knees, rising from them would not be an option. That was the terror of this final barrier. If you could not hold your head up high and open the gate, they would be crushed by the wight of this malice. Crushed so thoroughly that the dust they will become is compacted and fused into the very floor he stood on.
Letting the red flame flicker out, he held his hand to the gate, Aberdeen let out a breath. A breath that bore the tension that writhed beneath his skin. Channelling the aether within him into the gate, he imposed his will for the it to open. The resistance came as the the very concept of hatred clashed against his will with the force of a country. Aberdeen, the second strongest king in the history of the Telalhs Kingdom, could not falter here. Not against the remnants of a long departed old monster. Redoubling his efforts, Aberdeen pushed with the strength of a man who could throw a fortress 4 leagues into the air.
Ruumble!
With the shake of the earth, the opposing will receded. The gate began to rise into the ceiling, trembling so fiercely the visage of the great snake seemed to come to life. As soon as the gap between the gate and the floor was just tall enough to let him pass, he stepped through. He was not going to permit any of the terrible things in this accursed dungeon even a sliver of a chance to escape. The very though of it sent shivers through him. He could subdue them individually with great effort, but any more than that would certainly end his life.
BOOM!
The gate slammed shut behind him. He was left in the dark. If the five barriers were made to keep out intruders, the darkness ensured they could never leave. A dark so suffocating the soul would have to leave the body behind to gain even a slight chance of escape. As king, Aberdeen was not and intruder. "Diafotízo." He intoned. Aether lacing his voice, carrying it to the deepest ends of the vault. His voice suffused every crevice of his surroundings, echoing of every object within the vault until it became a deep hum of vibrations that came from everywhere.
The hum began to fade, replaced with the fizzle of coals on a hotbed. the darkness shrank back from the pulsing glow flowing magma within the patterns of the walls. It slithered into the intricate markings carved into the floor, ebbing and stirring like a tenebrous stream of ink. As the last of the darkness disappeared, the first room of the Telalhs Vault came into view. The room that housed the safest- least dangerous of the terrors in this dungeon. The armoury.
Cabinets, shelves, racks and pedestals lined the walls, stout display cases forming neat rows, circling the centre piece piece of this room. A sword so unrealistically large it seemed to be a work of fiction was buried to the around midpoint of the blade. Aberdeen was like a small child when stood next to it, and that was only a little more than half of the gargantuan piece of weaponry. The wave pattern of the blade swirled and shifted with life. It would likely have responded to Aberdeen's presence had it not been bound by motes of eerie green light like chains ancient ichor.
Aberdeen drew his gaze from the Titanic weapon and levelled it on one of the three passages in the far wall. The dungeon-cum-storage vault had only four rooms. Three of these rooms formed a large triangle around a central room. Each room drew power from three different practically infinite sources of aether. The Basilisk's Heart, the Sword of Damocles and the Book of Shadows. These represented the three Instances of power. Might, Influence and Knowledge. They were arranged like this to form a seal of sorts. To ensure the worst thing the continent has ever seen from consuming all it can to regain its former strength.
Stepping through to the central chamber, Aberdeen stared into the depths of the volcanic core in the middle of the room with apprehension. Three months since he had been here. It was livid. It had to be. Who wouldn't be offended if their spirit brother had abandoned them for a quarter of the year. Aberdeen certainly would. Which is why he was so nervous about coming here.
It took less courage to face a Dreadnaught in heat than it did to face the creature that slept within that field wide pool of molten rock. He took one step after another, coming up to the edge of the hexagonal pool of glowing liquid fire. He raised his hand. Then, he did what he swore he would never do. He hesitated. How could he face his brother after all this time of neglect. Cutting his palm open, letting thick, dark blood pour from the wound into the pool like syrup. "Sfeteristís. I have come."
There was no sound in the air except the bubbling of magma and the sizzling of his blood as it met the pool. The moment he thought to leave, a rumble sounded from below. The gurgling sound of displaced magma caught his attention. A large figure burst from the pool, spilling magma everywhere with no regard for its surroundings. It was a head. The head of a creature so hideously large it was an afront to Gaia herself.
A head the size of a large inn that seemed to be a mix between a horse-bat, a dragon-lion and a squid-bear. Its eyes were black as pitch with pupils so vibrantly green it could make one sick. Covered in scales and feathers, coloured with deep blue and grey concentric patterns, that shed the liquid fire like birds did water. This was the spirit brother of every King of the Telalhs Kingdom, future, past or present. Bound to them by the first king, Thalassa Telalhs, to prevent it form rampaging throughout the world without a means to stop it. This was Sfeteristís, the first divine plague.