Dark Flower III, Ch. 17: Yorthae

[Mikayla]

Dark Flower Book III

Chapter 17: Yorthae

[Author’s note: I’ve taken just a bit of artistic license with the sequence of events below – because the sequence as played out was very complicated and convoluted, I’ve simplified and reordered things just a bit – everything written about below did happen in game, just not in precisely the same sequence as I’ve written it. I’ve edited out some events that were less relevant to the overall story line and streamlined some of the others.]

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Winged-death flew through the twisted, lightless passages of the north-dark. Its name was Shurtallistryl and while once it had been an ancient black wyrm of great infamy, now it was a dracolich in service to Qu’ellar Auvryndar. Upon the dracolich’s bony back rode Sheyreiza and her murder team. The lithe, beautiful high-priestess guided the great undead-beast’s flight with pressure from her armored thighs and commands from her silken voice. The beast obeyed. As it passed through the narrow passages far below the fortress of Hellgate, Sheyreiza banked the undead-horror into a hard right turn and headed south. Astride the dracolich she traveled the passages deep beneath the old Ammarindar road. She was going home, to Ched Nasad. On her back was a long, wicked blade, a twin to that dark, blood drinking sword she had taken off of her vampiric cousin Trask and to the sword found upon the corpse of Matron Melarn. These were the weapons of Wendonai himself. Each was wielded by one of his favorites, perhaps handed out as bribes. Each sword was also a part of Wendonai’s essence and thus the repository of some small part of the demon-lord’s strength. Every time one of the blades was broken, Wendonai weakened. Sheyreiza had spent the last few ten-days tracking down this third weapon and acquiring it from the half-demon, Kaanyr Vhok. Now it was time to return the blade to Qu’ellar Auvryndar for destruction.

At the north gates of Ched Nasad, guards from the Sisterhood of the Spider sped to open the way for Sheyreiza as she approached. With the fall of Nasadra and the containment of the traitor-house Melarn in the Nasadra ruins, Sheyreiza’s house of Auvryndar was the pre-eminent house in Ched Nasad, and no one wanted to displease an Auvryndar high-priestess riding upon a dracolich.

Sheyreiza walked the great beast through the city’s portals and then guided it aloft once more. Up she soared, between the magnificent calcified webs. Sheyreiza did not immediately stop at Qu’ellar Auvryndar. Instead, she flew higher, into the upper reaches of the city and passed by the walls of Qu’ellar Nasadra, at a safe distance of course. Behind those walls the traitorous, heretical Melarn lurked, schemed and prepared. In the streets were the forces of Qu’ellar Auvryndar and its allies. The Melarn were under siege, confined to the highest layer of the city in their purloined fortress. The Auvryndar, in contrast, had full run of the rest of Ched Nasad, and they were making great use of it to solidify their powerbase. Still, Sheyreiza was not happy; while she was confident in the faith and power of Auvryndar, Lolth was still not speaking to Her priestesses. And who knew what the Melarn were doing deep inside the fortress of the Nasadra? One could only imagine the army of demons the heretics were trying to conjure.

Having seen that there were no new developments in the siege, Sheyreiza guided the dracolich down to the courtyard of Qu’ellar Auvryndar and landed. She and her team dismounted and entered the main keep, leaving Shurtallistryl to guard the castle’s exterior. One had to appreciate the ‘loyalty’ of the undead.

Shyntlara awaited Sheyreiza in the throne room. The Matron was excited to see the blade Sheyreiza carried; the last time they had broken one of Wendonai’s blades an aspect of Lolth had been released and all of Lolth’s priestesses had received their prayer-spells. The rapture was an isolated event, however; since then, Lolth had been silent and no priestess had felt the Goddess’s presence or received her prayer-spells anew once cast.

“You have it I see.” Shyntlara grinned, showing her long, slender fangs.

Sheyreiza bowed her head. “Indeed, honored Matron.” She dropped to one knee and offered the sheathed blade to her mother. Shyntlara took the sword eagerly and drew it out of the scabbard.

“Another blasphemous blade. I shall enjoy seeing it destroyed.” The Matron remarked with cruel satisfaction. “You’ve done well again, Sheyreiza. However, we cannot easily break the blade without Celuldor, and as you know, Celuldor’s madness has worsened. He is useless at the moment; he is in his room sitting naked in his own filth. His mind is gone.” Shyntlara lowered the sword and looked upon Sheyreiza. “All is not lost, however. You and he have provided me with an idea. You mentioned his madness was self-induced, a defense to keep Wendonai from learning what Celuldor knows. If that is so, we can end this madness by excising that part of his mind that knows what he wishes to keep from Wendonai.”

Sheyreiza blinked. “My apologies honored Matron, but I do not know how to do such a thing.”

The Matron smiled. “Of course you don’t daughter. But the illithid do. Go to their embassy and get them to help us. They will know how to take out the offending piece of Celuldor’s mind. See that they do not take all of his mind though. We need the rest of it.”

“Mistress, I do not . . .” Sheyreiza started.

“I’ve given you a command, daughter.” Shyntlara cut her off abruptly. “Are you going to follow it?”

Sheyreiza bowed even lower, putting her forehead to the floor. “Of course, honored Matron, I shall follow your command at once.”
“I knew you would.” Shyntlara replied with an evil laugh. “Either that or I would have had your blood and your soul. Then you would obey me forever more without complaint.”

Sheyreiza restrained a shudder of fear and repulsion. She nodded once more and rose. “Praise be to Lolth, honored Matron. I shall return when it is done.”

The matron just smiled, showing Sheyreiza every gleaming inch of her vampiric fangs.

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The embassy of the illithid was a dome-shaped building that hung amidst the webs of the central layers, just below Zhennu Orbb. Sheyreiza had come alone, save for the dracolich she rode. Matron Shyntlara had protected Sheyreiza’s mind from the powers of the illithid, but such protections could not be spared for others, so Sheyreiza was without her usual entourage. Shurtallistryl was a formidable servant, but that did not put Sheyreiza’s mind at ease. There were few things she loathed as much as illithid. The mind-flayers, as the surfacers called them, were horrors from the depths below and Sheyreiza had never understood why anyone would tolerate letting the creatures live. So far as she was concerned, they were priests and prophets of madness and each and everyone should be put to the sword as soon as possible. The ruling council of Ched Nasad did not share Sheyreiza’s outlook, however, and had given the illithid a charter to build an embassy within the city. Here, at the embassy, the illithid traded with the drow of Ched Nasad, and spied upon them. Nothing any priestess or matron ever said justified letting these foul creatures live so far as Sheyreiza was concerned, but she was not the leading Matron of the ruling council. Not yet at least. And so the illithid were protected.

Sheyreiza dismounted the dracolich and whispered orders to it. If she did not return within the hour, the beast was to tear the embassy apart and kill all the illithid inside. She smiled. It would almost be worth her life to see them all killed. Almost.

The portal to the embassy was open as Sheyreiza approached, but there was no one inside the entry chamber. Sheyreiza drew out her whip-of-fangs and walked deeper inside the mind-flayers’ abode. The walls were ornately decorated with strange designs and glyphs that Sheyreiza had never seen before. The doors were oddly constructed and what little furnishings she saw were equally alien. She felt as if she had stepped outside Ched Nasad all together. She passed through a long, curved corridor and into a circular chamber. The room was empty so she crossed towards the one exit she could see. As she approached, an illithid emerged. It seemed surprised. Apparently the mind protections were working – the illithid had not sensed her presence. The disgusting creature waved its tentacles about and pointed a finger at Sheyreiza. Drop your weapon, remove your helmet, and come to me. It said telepathically.

“No.” Sheyreiza said aloud. It repeated its command, and Sheyreiza repeated her denial. Though the illithid was as alien as any creature she had ever encountered, its frustration was obvious. It came towards her quickly, its face-tentacles reaching out hungrily. Sheyreiza stood her ground and brandished the 5 snakes of her whip-of-fangs just as the illithid reached her. The creature stopped and backed away from the swaying, hissing snake-heads. “I will slay you in a heartbeat if you come near me again.” Sheyreiza threatened. “You cannot control my mind, and you may not eat it either.”

Foolish drowling. The illithid said mentally. You have come into our embassy alone. We have many powerful slaves. I’ll have you in chains. I’ll cut the heads off your whip and break your mind. You’ll be my thrall by the ebbing of the next cycle!

“I’ve not come alone, monster.” She replied evenly. “I rode here. On my dracolich. It’s outside, even now, and if I do not return whole and untouched, it will destroy this embassy and all within it. And your mental powers mean nothing to the undead.”

You lie! Replied the illithid.

“No I don’t. But go check for yourself, I’ll wait.” She crossed her arms, but left the snake heads free to watch and strike if the illithid got too close.

Wait here. I’ve alerted the rest of the embassy. If you go any further, you’ll be slain. Sheyreiza made no reply other than a roll of her eyes. Warily, the illithid circled her, just out of range of her snake-headed whip, and then made his way to the front of the embassy. He returned a few moments later, and Sheyreiza would have sworn the foul creature had paled. Wait here. The illithid said again, this time venturing deeper into the embassy.

Sheyreiza paced back and forth in the circular chamber, waiting to see how the mind-flayers would react. She did not have to wait long. Three of the creatures returned to the chamber; one was the first illithid she had encountered. This one retired back into the depths of the building after it presented Sheyreiza to the other two.

Greetings, Priestess. Said one of the illithid. What brings you to our embassy?

“I’ve need of your services.” She replied frankly. “I need one of your . . . people . . . to remove something from my brother’s brain.”

No. Replied the illithid simply.

“I wasn’t really asking, illithid.” Sheyreiza uncrossed her arms, letting the whip-of-fangs straighten out. “This is not a request, it’s a demand.” She paused. “Of course, with the demand comes an offer of payment as well. We will not take no for an answer, but we will pay handsomely for a yes.”

You can make no such demands, Priestess. We have a charter from the ruling council, with the seal of Matron Nasadra herself. This embassy and all within it are protected. Your threats mean nothing to us. The illithid said defiantly.

Sheyreiza smiled wickedly in the dim light. “Oh really? And where is Matron Nasadra now? In the Demonweb, that’s where, because she is dead.”

Perhaps, Priestess, but your house does not command the ruling council.

“No?” Asked Sheyreiza with feigned shock. She narrowed her eyes, raised her whip and walked toward the two illithid. “Right now the forces of the Melarn traitors are trapped behind the broken walls of Nasadra, cut off from any escape by the forces of my house, Auvryndar. And every cycle we get that much closer to erasing their heresy from the face of this city. Their matron is already dead. I know, because I killed her.” She stepped closer again and the two illithid stepped back. Alien or not, they could feel fear. “Now, Auvryndar controls every part of this city beneath the highest layer where the Melarn hide in Qu’ellar Nasadra’s ruins. Do you really think you can challenge us, or say no to us? It is only a matter of time before the Melarn are cast down from on high and my mother, Matron Shyntlara, formally ascends to the head of the ruling council. Do you really want to deny someone who will soon rule this city?” The two illithid backed up again as Sheyreiza advanced but suddenly she relaxed and smiled, almost warmly. “On the other hand, you could take this opportunity to serve the future ruling Matron of the city, and thus ensure that your charter remains intact after this civil war is over. And you could make some coin in the mean time . . . or slaves. We have many battle-captives from the Melarn, and we are sure to gain many more.”

Slaves do not interest us. The illithid replied.

“Then we shall provide drow.” Sheyreiza said calmly.

You lie! You would never give us drow willingly.

“Why not?” Sheyreiza asked with a cruel smile. “Heretics? Blasphemers? Traitors who sought to overturn the worship of our Goddess and enslave this city to a common demon? I can think of no better punishment than turning over their warriors . . . and wizards . . . to you to become your thralls. I rather like the idea of their heretical minds being enslaved or worse. Indeed, I am prepared to turn over all the battle-captives we already have.”

The two illithid turned to face each other and carried on what Sheyreiza could only guess was a silent mental conversation. A few moments later they turned back to her. We will aid you and your house Priestess. In return, we expect your battle-captives from the Melarn to be delivered to us. Do we have a bargain?

“Yes.” Sheyreiza smiled.

Good, it is done. This one will go with you and do what you need done. One of the two illithid stepped forward.

“Very well. Come along. I want to be done with this. We will send the battle-captives down on foot when we are through.”

That is acceptable, priestess. The illithid replied. Sheyreiza smiled.

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It took hours for the illithid to clear Celuldor’s brain but when the mind-flayer was done, Celuldor’s sanity was returned. The illithid had not withdrawn its tentacles from Celuldor’s head for a more than a second when the newly-restored mage intoned a spell and disintegrated the illithid on the spot.

“Celuldor!” Sheyreiza yelled in surprise.

The naked wizard regarded her evilly. “You disapprove, sister? You think I should have let it live?”

“No, of course not, brother. I am mad because you’ve stolen my treachery from me. I wished to kill it.”

Celuldor smiled and laughed. “I should have guessed. Thank you for arranging to have my mind restored to me.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I have the second part of my treachery to perform. This part you may not usurp.”

“Oh? And what is that?” He asked with some curiosity.

Sheyreiza turned and walked out of the filthy chamber. She stopped at the door. “I made a bargain with the illithid for their services. Naturally, I’ve no intent of living up to it. This will make them mad, of course, so, I am going to take the dracolich Shurtallistryl down to their embassy and slay all of them.”

Celuldor grinned as cleaned up. “Naturally. I should have guessed. It’s good to be back sister.”

“Its good to have you back, brother.”

Before the ebbing of the next cycle the embassy of the illithid lay in ruins. The broken bodies of its masters and thralls were strewn about the rubble. None were left alive. Sheyreiza was happy.

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After Sheyreiza completed her treachery and after Celuldor had cleaned himself up they attended Matron Shyntlara in the chapel. The Matron was still holding onto the blade Sheyreiza had retrieved. “Come, let us destroy this thing.” In the chapel, more formally known as the Faen of Lolth, Auvryndar’s priestesses gathered for the breaking of the blade, each hoping to feel the presence of their goddess again. Celuldor stood amidst the gathering women, the only male in the Faen. He would be the one to actually destroy the accursed weapon of the demon-lord. As the priestesses kneeled about the altar, he began his spell. Sheyreiza watched intently as her half-brother went through his ritual; her heart raced and her sex grew hot with anticipation of the goddess passing through her. Celuldor’s spell was quick and effective; a combined disintegration and disjunction broke the blade and tore asunder the magic it had been imbued with. The weapon disappeared in a flash of malevolent red light. Sheyreiza waited for the ecstasy of Lolth’s release, but it did not come. Instead, darkness followed the red flash of destruction and Sheyreiza found herself completely without sight. Panic gripped her heart but she tamped down her fear with a supreme effort of will. Gradually the blackness around her began to lighten into a dull grey.

She was no longer in Qu’ellar Auvryndar’s Faen of Lolth. She was standing in a ruined plaza, an open square, amidst a shadowy, alien city. Webs were everywhere, hanging off of everything. There were other drow here too. Faerylene stood to Sheyreiza’s right, and Matron Shyntlara stood to her left. Nearby she recognized the blue-armored form of Ghenni’salla Tlabbar, from Menzoberranzan. Standing near Ghenni’salla was a hard-looking drow female bearing the insignia of Menzoberranzan’s house Baenre, and next to her another female, very beautiful like Sheyreiza, bearing arms and insignia Sheyreiza did not recognize. There were two other females as well, neither remarkable of face or countenance and neither of whom bore insignia that Sheyreiza knew. They all, however, appeared to be priestesses or high-priestesses of Lolth. One by one they regarded each other suspiciously. Eyes narrowed. Hands moved slowly but surely to weapon hilts. The words of prayer-spells came to mind and lingered on the tips of delicate tongues. Each waited for another to make the first move. No one wanted to draw fire first.

A cloud of darkness formed in the center of the plaza and the circle of women. It grew in size and depth and deepness until it was so dark that it was beyond black; it was not just devoid of light, it ate light. It was hunger and darkness incarnate. Then a shape emerged from that darkness; an enormous but beautiful female drider and in an instant Sheyreiza knew that she beheld an avatar of Lolth.

“Welcome.” It said. “Each of you is a servant of mine. Each of you shows great promise. Now the time has come for you to deliver on that promise.” The avatar turned as it spoke, looking upon each of the women with eight piercing, unholy eyes of red light. “There are eight aspects to me, just as there are eight of you. Three of my aspects, lust, darkness and hunger, have been released. The rest are not yet free. The demon, Wendonai, has sought to take advantage of my silence by entrapping my eight aspects. But even in silence, with no effort by me at all, my essence takes virtually all his strength to hold. Each time you break one of his blades you cause him pain, you weaken him, and as he weakens, his grip upon my aspects slips. And so he falls prey to my scheme. But . . . there are more aspects to be freed, and you are the ones who must free them. When the last aspect is freed, then one of you shall be chosen as my host, my Yorthae, if you are worthy. Then I will defeat the demon for all time. Go now, do as I bid, and prove yourselves the most worthy . . . for only the most worthy shall be Yorthae.”

Darkness overtook the avatar and spread from the center of the plaza until it engulfed Sheyreiza and the other priestesses. Everything was black for a moment. Then the blackness lifted and sight returned. Sheyreiza was standing in the Faen of Lolth. Shyntlara was there, and so was Faerylene and so were all the other Auvryndar priestesses. Shyntlara, Faerylene and Sheyreiza shared a glance between themselves, and looked around the room. It was as if they had never left; no one had noticed anything. Then Sheyreiza realized Celuldor was not to be seen.

Shyntlara realized this too. “Where is Celuldor?” The Matron growled. No one answered so she screamed. “Where is Celuldor?” Shalen, her eldest daughter, spoke up in a trembling voice. “We do not know, honored Matron.” She said fearfully. “After the blade broke, the darkness came and when it lifted, he was gone.”

Sheyreiza’s stomach turned over. All that work to save her brother’s mind only to have him disappear. It was not a total loss of course; she had gotten to betray and destroy the illithid. Still, Celuldor’s magic was an invaluable tool and his loss was a blow they could ill-afford.

Shyntlara growled something unintelligible then focused on Sheyreiza. “Find your brother, now!”

Sheyreiza bowed low and Faerylene, her apprentice, followed her mistress’s lead. “As you wish honored Matron.” Sheyreiza replied. “Praise be to Lolth.” Sheyreiza and Faerylene withdrew quickly. They walked briskly out of the chapel through the throne room and into the ante-chamber. Sheyreiza could tell Faerylene was very excited.

As they passed through Qu’ellar Auvryndar’s entry chamber Faerylene could not contain herself any longer. “I was there!” She stammered. “I was there. Do you think, do you think that means that I can be the Yorthae? That means I might be the Yorthae right?”

Yorthae. The word was an ancient one, and came down from the high-drow language of old which now only priestesses and wizards knew. It meant “Chosen of Lolth.” In all of recorded history Sheyreiza was unaware of any drow ever actually being elevated to such status. There were rumors, of course. Some said the fabled high priestess Menzoberra, who founded Menzoberranzan and whose followers founded Ched Nasad had been Yorthae, but there was no definitive proof. Some had even said that the 2,000 year old Matron Baenre had been Yorthae, but her ignominious death during the attack on Mithril Hall proved that rumor false. Now, however, an avatar of the Goddess had said that one of them would be Yorthae. And Faerylene had been there. It was possible; it just wasn’t probable.

“Perhaps.” Sheyreiza replied. “You were there, the same as me. You know as much as I do.” That was not quite true though, Sheyreiza thought. In her excitement, Faerylene did not appear to have come to the same realization that Sheyreiza had; a realization borne of thinking through the moves to the end game, the kind of thinking that won Savva games. And that thinking led Sheyreiza to know something Faerylene did not seem to yet realize: to ensure her position, each candidate for Yorthae would be well served by slaying the other potential candidates. And Matron Shyntlara, who held the power of life and death over Sheyreiza and Faerylene, was one of the other candidates – and so if Sheyreiza was to live, it meant Shyntlara had to die and she had to die before the Matron arranged for Sheyreiza’s death.

And of course, it also meant Faerylene had to die. Only one could be Yorthae after all.

Such was the drow way.

[Vendrin]

Fun read as always mik.