Chapter 2712 Sea of Void Mirrors <TOC> Chapter 2714 Demands Presented
Translator: SumTLMan
Younus had scarcely departed when Aedannis still could not still her unsettled mind.
Her brows knit tight, and, unbidden, her pupils turned once more into silver-white mirrors: within those mirrored surfaces carouselled one scene after another, not scenes monitored by a magic formation but visions belonging solely to her… memories.
Memories so ancient that she could retrieve them only by leaning on her inborn talent.
Ten thousand years ago, in a single night, the radiance of Nightfall City guttered out and it plummeted into the mundane.
For those who once sheltered beneath the great tree called Nightfall that span of time was an overwhelming blow. One Sovereign after another drifted away; those who did not leave mostly sank, disheartened, into eternal slumber.
Yet to the newly born Aedannis, Nightfall held almost no meaning.
Moreover, she and Ouro had ever been hidden inside the Azure Poem Hall, where Margaret had laid out a formidable magic formation, no one could discover, much less set foot in, that sanctum. Even the Sovereign of Wisdom, save for a single invitation when the hall was first built by the Master, had been unable to enter once the Master departed.
Thus, the Azure Poem Hall counted as one of the few pure lands in the underground sewers.
But for a pure land to remain forever unsullied is exceedingly difficult.
During the millennium after the Master’s leave-taking, Ouro still cherished hopes for the descendants of Noah. At that time Aedannis, heeding Ouro’s words, did not reject those descendants and even shared his expectation that they might arrive and lead them away.
Alas, each descendant of Noah proved more disappointing than the last. Long before they reached the Azure Poem Hall many foundered on the road that led to it.
Know this: Aedannis had placed no sentry posts then, nor had she ordered the Sovereign of Wisdom to obstruct them; yet even so those descendants performed, there is no gentler phrase, abysmally.
Even among the few who did reach the hall, none came but the greedy.
Through those days Ouro grew more despondent by the day, and the Azure Poem Hall, once an anthem of cloudless skies, sank into a nocturne of sombre dusk.
Day upon day, year upon year, the “Azure Sky” dimmed into “Darkness.” Gone was the former brilliance; boundless silence alone remained. The Azure Poem Hall at length became what it is now, a ruin site.
It was then that Aedannis began testing the descendants of Noah.
She deemed that only those who passed her trials deserved leave to set foot in the ruin site. Ouro inwardly disapproved, yet he never forbade her.
As more and more descendants came to be tested, Aedannis saw ever more clearly their covetous hearts.
Thus trials became rejection, and finally outright expulsion.
For this she refined a practiced procedure: bar them outside, banish them to the Sea of Void Mirrors, erase every memory, and cast them back into the mortal world.
Because the Sea of Void Mirrors wiped clean the memories of many Noah scions, fewer and fewer descendants even knew the ruin site existed.
To Aedannis this was welcome; she disliked the descendants of Noah, and by now she had uncovered certain… secrets of her own.
She already understood that their coming could bring her no benefit, only upheaval.
So her attitude hardened: no more “trials.” Whenever opportunity arose she would banish them straightaway to the Sea of Void Mirrors.
Aedannis knew Ouro found little pleasure in her deeds, yet she also knew he would not stop her.
Ouro turned a blind eye, seldom even mentioning matters concerning Noah thereafter.
Aedannis knew she had won.
Persist long enough and even the Master’s lingering influence would grind away beneath the Wheel of Time. Then Ouro would truly be reborn, shackled by nothing.
As for the phrase Aedannis so often mouthed: “Rather than the descendants of Noah, I await the descent of Nightfall”, it once carried a fragment of sincerity, but now it was hollow verbiage: a perfunctory formula to placate Ouro or to fend off the Sovereign of Wisdom.
Aedannis believed that given centuries, millennia, aye, even another ten thousand years, once Ouro’s fetters wore thin, they would at last be free.
Yet Ouro’s present aberration left her inwardly uneasy.
The mirrored visions splintered; Aedannis roused herself from reverie.
Though her gaze regained its chill, one could still glimpse the aftershocks of a shaken spirit.
“If matters follow the usual course,” she reasoned: “a handful of ordinary wizards ought to be prey easily taken by Younus. But this time is different: even the Sovereign of Wisdom has brazenly stirred. Should he lend assistance, variables may arise.”
At the mere thought of that Sovereign her mood soured further. One anomaly was Ouro’s strange behavior; now the Sovereign of Wisdom compounded it with mischief, complications upon complications.
But did the Sovereign of Wisdom choose his moment by chance or by design?
So many unknowns, where would the final outcome lead? The answer lay hidden; Aedannis realized only that if the end did not drive them away, it would certainly bode ill for her.
Relying on Younus alone felt unsafe; she must prepare more safeguards.
With that in mind she narrowed her eyes, her figure melting into the darkness…
When her body re-emerged from a prismatic sheen she already stood inside a chamber awash in red.
The room was small, it would be crowded if five or six adults were to gather, and its floor was crusted with congealed crimson wax, making the tight space yet more cramped.
Aedannis did not so much stand upon the floor as hover above it.
The ceiling, however, soared high, and from it hung a chandelier shaped like a spider’s web, every “lamp” a red candle.
Thus the chamber lay steeped in shifting scarlet gloom.
Aedannis surveyed the confined room but saw no sign of her quarry. Her eyes drifted to the undulating wax-slick below, wondering… might the thing be hiding beneath?
While her gaze hung upon the red wax, she failed to notice a blood-red hand creeping onto her shoulder.
The hand was small, no larger than an infant’s, yet the scarlet fluid that dripped unceasingly and the black-green nails lent it a ghastly horror.
As the hand extended, a skinless crimson infant’s head followed, craning from behind her back.
Its grin was monstrous: the slit of its smile tore to the ear, exposing a toothless maw.
Giggling eerily, it inched its hand toward Aedannis’ neck, nearer, nearer…
The instant the claw touched her throat the grin could hide no longer. Nails lengthened, sharpened, plunged straight into her neck, clamped the cervical spine, and wrenched, Aedannis’ head fell with a wet thud into the red wax below…
Slurp-slurp, slurp-slurp. As the headless corpse toppled after it, the bizarre giggle grew ever more triumphant.
Yet its triumphant grin did not last long, suddenly, it froze.
For the unscathed Aedannis was once again standing squarely before it, though the corpse whose head it had snapped off had already become a floorful of shattered mirror shards.
“This is the 994th mirror you have broken,” Aedannis said placidly: “as I warned you, when you reach the thousandth, I shall banish you to the Sea of Void Mirrors. If you will not serve me, then become a drift of dust upon that sea.”
Skinless, its whole body blood-red, the infant spirit dropped from mid-air.
Fingering the broken mirror pieces on the ground, it seemed to be seeking some connection between the shards and Aedannis; as for her words, it appeared utterly unbothered.
Watching the heedless “strange infant spirit,” Aedannis felt a flicker of displeasure.
She quickly suppressed the feeling. This ghost’s origins were uncanny and its powers all the more bizarre. Were her true body not hidden within a mirror, and were this place not a reflected prison inside the Mirror World, the ghost might already have succeeded.
Years ago, on some unknown day, the ghost had abruptly descended into the Ambling Corridor, the gallery outside the Azure Poem Hall.
At its arrival a silken ribbon wound round its head and a swaying crimson flower lay in its hand, an odd attire.
Many ghosts dress oddly; an infant spirit might well look peculiar.
So at first Aedannis took it for an ordinary infant spirit, assuming it had fallen from Qwest World. Yet when it shattered several mirror images in succession, she instantly saw that it was anything but ordinary.
Aedannis herself could not seize it, but the more mysterious Ouro could.
With Ouro’s aid she locked the ghost inside a prison of the Mirror World.
Infant spirits are common ghosts, yet one so grotesque and so fearsome in strength is rare. Because they are born craving motherhood, once recognized, if handled properly and fed at the right times, they become remarkably loyal.
Thus, rather than destroy the ghost, she desired its allegiance.
Hence her visits, mirror after mirror smashed, each ending in frustrated retreat.
Those early failures did not dismay Aedannis; they only deepened her urge to conquer.
She soon discovered another peculiarity: the ghost possessed true consciousness.
A ghost’s thoughts are chaotic; even when fragments of past memory flash, it is mere residue of soul and habit, hardly intelligence.
This ghost was different: it could do things only conscious beings could.
For instance, weaving.
The white-silk chandelier upon the ceiling, spun like a spider’s web, was woven from the ribbon once bound about its head.
And candle-making.
Aedannis had no mind to craft red candles for a ghost; every candle here was its own work. She once spied the truth: from the crimson flower in its grasp dripped fragrant viscous drops, which the ghost shaped into the candles.
Such skills are beyond an infant spirit, indeed beyond most ghosts.
All signs showed the ghost was intelligent, and feedback in small details proved it even understood human speech.
Aedannis coveted it all the more.
Compared with Younus, it was better suited to battle. Younus has avatars and children that hinder her; this being was alone, perfect chess piece and weapon.
Yet faced with Aedannis, it treated her as nothing; to this day it had shown her no emotion at all.
With time, even burning enthusiasm is doused by cold water.
Aedannis was no patient soul; her tolerance of the ghost’s surly attitude was already exceptional, but even exceptions wear thin.
She had tried countless means and persuasions, yet never won the ghost’s belonging. Exhausted, she set a covenant of a thousand breaks.
Now fewer than ten smashes remained till the thousandth.
Once that number came, she would banish it to the Sea of Void Mirrors as promised.
“I know you understand me,” Aedannis told the ghost, busy inspecting the mirror shards: “Whether you submit to me was yesterday’s topic. Today I have another.”
The ghost ignored her, but she continued:
“What you desire most is freedom, yes? I can grant you one chance. Do it, and I will set you free.”
She fell silent and waited.
One minute, two… after five minutes the ghost finally turned its head toward her.
It did not speak, yet through its eerie gaze Aedannis received the message:
What do you want me to do?
Aedannis: “Simple. I will place you in the Ambling Corridor. Wait there. Should any creature approach, kill them, grind their bones to dust, that is your task.”
At the word kill its mouth split wider, and crimson crept into its eyes.
Slurp, slurp… the strange sound faded, matching its wild, savage grin.
Aedannis knew: this time, it would likely work.
Even so, the infant spirit was a card full of variables; Aedannis could not wholly trust so enigmatic a ghost. Carelessness might bring backlash.
For absolute safety, she still had more preparations to make.
Chapter 2712 Sea of Void Mirrors <TOC> Chapter 2714 Demands Presented