Chapter Text
All is ash and dust…
All is grey and dull…
There is no light,
And yet we see…
Our bodies are gone,
But are we free?
The Sun will never rise,
The Sun will never set…
And so, we close our eyes,
And so, we bow our heads…
Hopeful but afraid,
Of what awaits us yet…
Everything was… grey.
She held up her hand, she could see through it. Her essence rippled and flowed from the edges of her body like smoke caught in a draft.
Where am I?
She turned around and looked everywhere, but there was nothing. Not even blackness. Nothing.
Who am I?
She looked at her hand again. Still grey. Still transparent. She gently touched various parts of her body with her ephemeral fingers. But she felt nothing.
Time made no sense. She wandered the vast nothingness without rest, she never felt tired. Had it been hours? Days? She had no idea how long she had been walking or if she had even moved at all from her original spot. Everything looked the same. Everything was nothingness.
“JENEVELLE HALLOWLEAF.”
The voice boomed from all around her. She spun to try and find the source. A visage emerged from the nothingness. Someone, a man perhaps? They stood there. Their face obscured by a hood. They held a large sword, pointed downward, in their hands.
Is that… my name? No… no that doesn’t sound right…
“JENEVELLE HALLOWLEAF,” the voice boomed again, “DAUGHTER OF ARNELL AND EMMELINE HALLOWLEAF, CLERIC OF SHAR.”
Shar?
Something about that name…
Her mind was suddenly awash with fragments of memories: praying, stalking in the shadows, finding a strange artifact.
“YOU STAND JUDGEMENT TO DETERMINE THE FATE OF YOUR SOUL. A TEST OF YOUR FAITH.”
Her chest ached with passion. She remembered now. Remembered her goddess, her devotion, her training, her name.
“I am Shadowheart,” she shouted back at the hooded figure with conviction, “I have been loyal and faithful to my Lady of Loss.”
The figure stood still, perhaps it was staring at her. The large hood of the cloak covered their eyes, and yet Shadowheart felt a cold gaze piercing her soul.
“YES. YOU HAD FAITH. YOU SERVED YOUR GODDESS IN LIFE, PRAY THAT YOU MIGHT SERVE HER IN DEATH.”
“Might?” Shadowheart stepped forward, “What do you mean ‘might’? You just said that I was faithful; that I served her in life.”
Shadowheart felt a massive gust of wind knock her backwards as the figure began to float and ascend. Its voice sounded a bit softer, but not warm. It was like the numbness at the end of hypothermia.
“IT IS FOR YOUR GODDESS TO DECIDE IF YOU WERE LOYAL ENOUGH TO JOIN HER IN THE AFTERLIFE.”
“But… but how will I know? What’s going to happen to me?” Panic punctuated her question. Her voice wavered slightly.
“IF SHE DEEMS YOU WORTHY, SHE WILL SEND AN EMISSARY TO GUIDE YOU TO HER DOMAIN.”
“How… how long will it take for her to send someone?”
“IF SHE DEEMS YOU WORTHY, YOU WILL SPEND LITTLE TIME IN WAIT.”
The figure began to dissolve before her eyes. She reached out towards it, perhaps hoping it would take her away from the nothingness. But she was left behind. She looked around her, nothing but nothingness. She slowly lowered herself to the ground and sat on her knees, her head bowed in prayer.
There she stayed. She knew not for how long. She never grew tired. Never became thirsty. Never felt hunger. There was nothing to interrupt her thoughts. She sat there to the point that errant thoughts began to pop up in her hymns like wild dandelions. At first they were questions, doubts. But the longer she prayed, the more they became… affirmations. Reminders of who she was, of what had happened. The longer she prayed, the harder she found it to hold on to those slippery thoughts.
How long? How long had it been? Hours? Days? Years? Centuries? There was nothing for her to judge time by. No time between waking and rest, no desire to eat or drink.
Eating… food… hmm…
A little daisy popped through the prayers. That time she brought a wrapped bundle of food to Lae’zel while she was recovering. How the githyanki begrudgingly consumed what was offered, but Shadowheart had seen the vigor with which she ate. A small smile tickled the corners of her mouth, she rolled her shoulders and pushed it away.
She recited the chants louder in her mind, as if one could mentally shout. But it wasn’t long before a buttercup broke through the mindless repetition. This one brought her… anger. A tall man, towering above her, his eyes like flames in the darkness. He growled at her. Yelled at her. He dragged her by the wrist and threatened her, threatened her faith. She chewed on her bottom lip as her face twitched. Then another thought. A wild black, blooming orchid. It sprang up beside the little yellow flower and engulfed it with its cooling shade. The same man, saving her. Dracula. Yes. The vampire lord she couldn’t pin down. He saved her life without so much as a hint of superiority or a demand for thanks. And it wasn’t just her life. He had traded his weapon to rescue Lae’zel and carried her the entire way back to safety from the dark. He caught Gale before he could fall to his death and allowed a plethora of dogs to meander his camp without so much as a sneer. He had rushed to stop another vampire from biting her friend.
Friend?
A face more clearly emerged. Pale grey, with black lips and flaming green on black eyes. She could remember sitting with this person. She was teaching her cleric spells… This woman laughed more than anyone she could remember, smiled brightly despite the constant pain.
Striga…
That smile, it warmed hearts wherever it went. Her chest felt a little lighter. That woman was certainly odd, but there was no mistaking the charm she seemed to have on everyone. Then she remembered that same smile turning to dread. A thistle crawled its way up, snaking between the little garden of her mind. She remembered a flash of silver, a sudden shout, her body acting before she could think. She had pushed Striga away, and then felt a tremendous pain in her own throat. She drew her fingers into her palms as she remembered falling…
Falling…
Falling…
One last memory, Lady Shar’s dark and unforgiving face. It watched her burn. It watched her die. Her eyes sprang open as she gasped. She wrapped her arms around her own body as she shuddered. She looked around the nothingness once more; still only nothingness and nothing more.
How long has it been?
Her hair and nails no longer grew. Her body didn’t waste away. She couldn’t even feel the soreness of sitting in the same position for hours on end. She folded her hands in her lap, bowed her head once more, and prayed. But this time her words were far more personal, not the prayers she had memorized for years and years.
Please… please Lady Shar, our Lady of Loss. I have devoted my entire life to you, for as long as I can remember. Please… why do you not answer me now? Have I done something to anger you? Was I not faithful?
She bent forward and pressed her head into the ground, her body unfolding and stretching into a full grovel.
Please. Please don’t abandon me. I… I’m scared… please…
It felt like she was crying, but no tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled her arms in and wrapped them tightly around herself.
Lady of Loss, I am nothing. I am the empty room. The dreamless sleep. The shadow's shadow. Take my pain, take my memory, and let me find peace in your dark embrace…
She paused. That was the… four…hundredth?
Yes. Four hundredth time she had completed that prayer. At least, she was pretty sure it was. It became significantly harder to keep track after the second hundredth time she repeated it. She still had no idea how long she had been in the nothingness. She had never timed her prayers before, but she also suspected that she was saying it a little faster each time. She rolled her shoulders and took a break to tend her garden.
She took in the haunting beauty of the orchid. Smelled the sweet aroma of the rose, but was careful not to touch its thorns. She gently touched the soft petals of the violet, admired how the buttercup and lily complimented each other. She even took the time to smile at the obstinate daisy. The thistle still existed, but it no longer overshadowed the other flowers, it had its own special place off to the side. She visited it now and again, tried to understand it better each time.
Her chest felt a little lighter as she let out a long sigh, but soon after it ached. She didn’t want to leave the garden, but she knew that she must. She had to continue her prayer. She sighed that kind of sigh that children make when they are told to come back inside.
Four hundred and one…
Lady of Loss, I am nothing…
Shadowheart laid on her side with one arm outstretched. No longer was her little garden restrained to just her mind; now she could see the little ghostly flowers in front of her in the nothingness. They lived on a warm grass patch, and little pinto peas dotted the tiny meadow. She wondered if she had ever had a garden when she was alive; she couldn’t remember. And she couldn’t remember if she couldn’t remember before she had died or because she had been in the nothingness for gods know how long.
“I wish I could give you some sunlight,” she lightly stroked the petals of each flower, methodically, “I bet you would like that. All flowers like sunlight. Well…” she glanced at the dark orchid and the pale lily, “maybe not you two…”
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the nothingness sky. She had lost track of her prayer count some time after prayer number six hundred and seventy three, and yet she still prayed. She wasn’t always so formal about it any more. She folded her hands on her chest and closed her eyes as if she were sleeping.
“Lady of Loss, I am nothing. I am the empty room. The dreamless sleep. The shadow’s shadow. Take my pai-“ something burned at her eyes. She turned on her side and sat up, away from the source of the burning, but she could still feel it on her back.
Wait…
She could feel it. Yes. It felt… warm. She glanced over her shoulder, a bright light reflected into her eyes. She slowly turned over but shielded her eyes behind her hand. Her chest suddenly felt heavy.
“Lady Shar… is… is that you?”
No, no that wouldn’t make sense. Shar despised the light; she was the darkness, the shadow. Shadowheart felt a warmth radiating from the light, and the more she peeked at it the less it burned her eyes. It looked like a little glowing blue orb, a tiny azure star. The ephemeral plants tried to stretch up to touch it. She felt it too, the desire to touch the light. She slowly stretched out her hand, but withdrew her fingers as she neared the mote. Lady Shar would not reveal herself as light. She was supposed to wait for Shar’s emissary.
She stretched out her fingers again. The little orb radiated such pleasant warmth. She wanted to touch it, to hold it. She swore she heard something calling from within the orb. She hesitated once more and closed her eyes.
No… No, I must wait for Shar’s emissary… I must join her, serve her. I must…
She felt something tickle her arm. She opened her eyes and looked down. Somehow, the little ghost flowers had stretched as far as possible to touch her skin.
And she could feel it. Acutely feel it. Not just imagine the textures as she had done for so long before.
Yes. Ok. I will.
She locked her eyes on the little ball of light and lunged forwards with her palm open and her fingers outstretched. The moment she touched the light she felt it wrap around her everywhere, inside and out. It was warm. A blinding light engulfed her and everything around her.
The nothingness was replaced entirely by blue light. And then…
Her eyes fluttered open, there was darkness above her.
Not nothingness, darkness.
A dark sky full of swirling blacks and greens. Something flickered to the side. She turned her head slightly, a line of burning torches seemed to surround her and whatever area she currently found herself in. Everything looked pale, grey, and sickly. But it was a relief to actually see something, anything.
“Nng…” she groaned softly. Her body ached. Yes… yes she could feel it. Her body ached, “Where…” the words were barely a whisper as they crawled from her mouth, “Where am I?”
“Shadowheart?” A familiar voice, soft and warm.
She slowly turned her head toward the voice. A grey woman with sad green and black eyes stared down at her.
“S… Striga?”
“Oh my gods…” Striga turned her head and shouted towards somewhere that Shadowheart could not yet see, "Everyone! She’s awake! She’s back!”
All at once, Shadowheart felt the ground tremble as a rumbling sound like that of a stampede approached her. They were all around her like a pack of wild dogs.
“You’re alive! Holy hells, I thought you were gone forever!” A warm voice of a large woman, it felt like little flames.
“By the gods, you two actually did it. Oh my! I have so very very many questions, but they can wait. This is incredible,” analytical, but not cold. Friendly, genuine.
“Shadowheart,” she felt a large hand gently touch her shoulder, a deep masculine voice filled her ears. It was like dark velvet, soft, strong, and warm, “welcome back.”
“Uhh.. what… what happened?” Shadowheart tried to sit up, she felt a wall of hands gently push on her back to help her.
“That… is not so succinctly summarized.”
Shadowheart turned her head, it felt like trying to rotate a stuck wheel that was desperately in need of grease.
“Gale?”
The brown haired man beside her smiled warmly. His glowing blue and green eyes looked soft.
“You’ve been through a lot, Shadowheart. We can talk all about it later. For now, know that Striga and Lae’zel worked their hardest to bring you back. They haven’t left your side once. And a certain someone carried you the entire time that you were unconscious.”
“Certain… someone?”
“I take care of my own.”
Shadowheart wearily craned her neck to look up at the tall figure that loomed above her. His red and black eyes were piercing and welcoming at the same time.
“Lord Dracula… but?”
“We may have had our differences, but you are still part of my coven. You proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt when you sacrificed yourself to save Striga. And for that, I am grateful.”
She felt someone on her other side squeeze her hand tightly. Her neck was starting to loosen up a bit, her head turned a little faster this time.
“Thank you,” the grey woman had tears in her eyes, “Thank you, for saving me. I can never repay you, but Lae’zel and I did our best to bring you back.”
“Bring me… back?”
“You…” Striga paused and looked down for a moment, “You died, saving me.”
“Istik!”
Shadowheart saw the strong githyanki warrior standing at her feet, “Do not ever expect me to save you again. If you had been more careful, more cautious…”
“Thank you, Lae’zel,” Shadowheart tried to smile, but her face felt funny. Almost like her skin was being pulled tightly over her bones. She held her hand to her forehead but immediately jerked it away. Something rigid had touched her palm.
Her fingers tapped on the object, it was long and thick. It went up and down and around. It curled. Yes. It curled over her head and down towards her nose and… she froze. She tried to touch her eye, but all she could feel was the hard object.
“What… what’s going on?” Her fingers tried to explore the rest of her body. She felt thin, thinner than usual. Why did her teeth feel dry?
“Shadowheart…” Striga’s voice trembled, almost as if she were ashamed. Even Lae’zel turned her head away, “Your body… you… you fell into the lava. There was nothing left of you…”
“What do you mean? What happened?” Shadowheart’s chest began to heavy, her back hurt.
“Lae’zel and I… look I am barely a cleric and Lae’zel hadn’t done anything like this before either… we.. we tried our best. It was all we could think of to save you.”
“What. Did. You. Do?”
Striga swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“I’m going to open my mind to you. The tadpole will let you see through my eyes so that you can see yourself. Just… please don’t panic.”
Shadowheart slowly nodded her head, her heart was beating erratically in her chest. She felt the tadpole in her head squirm, it was connecting with Striga’s. She relaxed herself and closed her eyes as the parasites linked. Her head tingled. When she opened her eyes again she no longer saw Striga.
Sitting on the ground, staring back at her, a pale skinned creature. It had no lips, its teeth and fangs were constantly beared. A series of twisting horns curled around its head, one in particular pierced through what used to be an eye. The remaining eye was sickly blue. She reached her hand up, the figure reached its hand up. Its boney, ghoulish hand. The ghoul’s chest began to shake, she felt her own chest shake. Then as she opened her mouth, the ghoul opened its mouth as well.
They both screamed.