"Nyx?" I ask, shocked, confused and strangely relieved. She smiles softly and nods. "Why are you here? What do you mean you've been waiting for me?" She glances over to the old man who leans his side against the wall opposite her.
"Your new friend here summoned me. He said you were ready for the Alta Memoria." I remember the glimpses of Nyx from my vision of King Samir. She helped create the Rose Knight, this ritual must be her doing as well. I turn to the old man
"And how does an old hermit in the woods come to know the Matriarch of a witches coven?" He grunts and shrugs his shoulders.
"None of your concern."
"You know you ask for a lot of trust from me. Yet you give none in return, I don't even know who are."
"And why should I?"
"What reason do you have not to?" He shakes his head in annoyance and changes the conversation.
"Nyx will take you through the ritual. I'm going hunting." He shoves off the cave wall and leaves the room. He's a rough man who shrugs off any attempt at conversation of anything other than the practices of war. Which he knows a frightening amount about. He has his reasons, though I can't shake the irritation of the one-sided deal. Nyx voice breaks my concentration on the door.
"Come with me. We've a lot of work to do." She leads me further into the cave to the ritual room. The air is different here. The smell of wet soil and growth permeate into the walls, which are lit by several torches bolted into columns. Their smoke flows upward in small plumes and out of a crack in the ceiling far above us. It's more like a cathedral hall than a room. Though it is far more plain, no divine stained glass figure looms above the altar at the far end of the hall. Rows of pews are missing, each replaced with a single column.
"What is this place?" I ask.
"This is where the Rose Knight was created." Our voices echo in the vastness, reverberating off the walls before being consumed by torch smoke and lifted out into the night sky. I make out intricate carvings on the wall behind the altar as we get closer. The images of death and war sprawl across it as a dark mural. I do not know the stories they tell, but I cannot help but feel a sense of dread from them. The Rose Knight was created in humanities darkest hours. How much blood have the stones of this cave drank I wonder? How much pain has this altar consumed? Nyx walks slowly around to the other side of the alter. Running her hand along the top of it as she does.
"What do you know of the Alta Memoria?" She asks.
"Very little, the old man explained it was a way for the Rose Knight to connect with the past. But that's as far as my knowledge reaches."
"You've no doubt begun having dreams. Dreams of reliving a piece of their lives?" I nod.
"Though I have not had a dream in some time."
"When the Rose Knight fades into the eternal void, they are not lost forever. The blessing of the black rose saves a piece of them. A small sliver of their soul to empower the blessing for their successor. A faint echo of their consciousness breathes within you. These dreams are their only way to reach you without undergoing the ritual." I remember flashes of King Samir fighting for his life on the battlefield. A stark contrast in what Corvus showed me. One showed me the great power and glory that came with this burden. The other showed me the potentially dark consequences. What if their view of this blessing is divided, what will become of me?
"And what if the Samir and Corvus don't get along?" I ask. Nyx chuckles softly.
"Though they exist simultaneously within you, they do not posses the capability to communicate with any entity but yourself."
"What about the ritual? If it strengthens their power enough to directly speak with me. What's stopping them from speaking to each other?" She stares at me for a moment.
"What have you seen?" She says, almost at a whisper and walks closer to me. Her gaze never lifting. I instinctively lean away slightly.
"King Samir showed me the power of the rose. Corvus showed me the danger of it. If the two have conflicting ideologies. Couldn't that be dangerous?" Her gaze lifts from mine and up to the smoke slowly floating out of the ceiling.
"They were both powerful men. But now they are mere fragments of their former selves. Fragments that do not posses the power to harm you." She looks back to me and sets a hand on my shoulder. The scent of her lavender perfume clams my mind. "They're your family Soren. Even if they were standing here right besides you. They would not wish any harm come to you." She offers me a comforting smile, though it does not relieve my concern. If their souls endlessly wage war within my sub conscious, will it end the fracture of my own? Nyx says otherwise... but some part of me knows it's not the truth. I need to speak with Corvus.
"Thank you Nyx. You've put my soul at ease." I say. I turn my attention to the massive wall beside us, examining the vastness of the carved mural. "The carvings. Do you know what they mean?"
"They tell the history of Noxland, though from a point of view far different than the texts written by men."
She turns and walks close to the wall behind her, feeling the detail of the carved stone. She conjures a ball of pure light, illuminating the first section of the mural. It depicts a vast army of monstrous creatures emerging from a wall of mist and crossing the sea surrounding Noxland.
"Long ago, the first witches emerged from the Shroud. Wrecking havoc on all races that call Noxland their home. An alliance was formed between them to fight against the beasts. Though the combine raw power of the inhabitants were not enough. Millions were slaughtered in the genocide, some races going totally extinct." She moves the light down the wall, revealing the depiction of a ritual. A woman stands in the middle of a circle of six kneeling robed figures with her arms outstretched to her sides and her face upwards.
"That is when The Black Rose made contact with the humans of Noxland. It revealed to them a way to fight back against the monsters of the Shroud. And the first of the human witches were born." She stares at the woman for a long moment before continuing down the carving. "With the power of the Black Rose at their disposal the humans aided their allied races in eradicating the Shroud witches from the Noxland." The light illuminates the depiction of a great war, thousands of bodies lay strewn about the ground. While a magical war rages above them with a single event as the focal point. A large figure in tattered and bloodied robes with the disfigured face. Rushes towards a witch with an evil grin.
The witch is shown defending herself with a spear made of ice and shadow. "After the century of war was finally over. Peace came to the Noxland." The next carving is of a large celebrating city, fireworks burst in the air above it. "Millions from all races flocked the to the human capital of Lucen to celebrate the end of the war and the beginning of a new era. There was no bloodshed for many years. Until the newfound power the Black Rose gifted to the humans began to corrupt them." The twisted image of several witches, locked up in cages fades into view. They're all shackled to tables upside down and bleeding from several wounds into a basin below them. "The kingdoms of men became divided. Some saw the witches as a resource for power. Others saw them as guardians. But soon, all saw them as monsters." A mass flood of witches is shown fleeing from torch wielding mobs into a dense forest.
"Why didn't they fight back? Surely they could have won?" I ask.
"We could have, yes. But Matriarch Miranda forbade it. Starting a war would only solidify us as monsters in their minds. She was set on trying to change that, to become guardians of the people once again. But alas, her goal cost her dearly." She shifts the light over another gruesome scene. The former Matriarch lies dead on the ground with a sword through her chest. A tall imposing woman clad in armor stands over the Matriarch, a cheering army of thousands behind her. I examine the carved woman closer. She holds her helmet in the crook of her arm, letting long hair flow in the triumphant wind. And in place of eyes are golden jewels. My eyes widen.
"The Arator, they called her. The Bringer of Light." Nyx says and continues down the wall. "Under her command thousands of my kind were slaughtered, and thousands more were captured and harvested for magic. All in the name of The Great Crusade. The genocide of my kin." The Arator is carved at the head of a massive army ripping apart a coven's village. Throwing many in cells and cutting down the rest. "The witches were divided. Those who still followed Miranda's hope. And those that had fully rebuked the idea that humans would see them as anything but livestock. And so the three Covens were created. Each claiming land in the furthest corners of the Noxland. I took The Black Rose to Mournewood, desperate to hide my people away from conflict. In hopes that Miranda's dying wish could still be carried out." The carving shows Nyx leading her people through the dense forests of Mournewood and establishing the village where they still reside.
"The Daughters of Mortem took to the north to wage war against The Arator. And the last of us..." She pauses for a moment, stuck on the words. Waving her hand, the light drifts over a scene I did not expect to see on these walls. "Found power in the Noxbleum." Horrible twisted figures with distorted faces and jagged teeth smile wickedly at us. "Its power corrupted them into something far worse than the Shroud could ever manifest. They began to hunt. Not just their oppressors, but any form of life. They became obsessed with death, feeding it to their master and reveling in the power it granted them in return." She studies the wall intensely, tracing each detail with her eyes. Her breathing has gotten heavier, the rise and fall of her shoulders quicker.
"Nyx..." She starles and turns to me. "Are you alright?" She smiles sadly and continues.
"The Noxbleum Cult grew in power, until even the grand armies of the Arator could not stop them. Backed into a corner the shining star of the human kingdom pleaded with The Black Rose Coven for aide. Seeing an opportunity to finally fulfill the final wish of my mother I accepted their call. And so, in humanities darkest hour the Rose Knight was born. Here on this very altar." She gestures towards the black marble.
"King Samir." I say.
"Yes."
"My uncle told me that The Rose Knight was a generational gift. That it was passed down from father to son... So King Samir…"
"Is your great grandfather? Yes."
"But Corvus was the son of King Alaric. How is that possible?" Her eyes dart nervously around the hall, when she does not find what she is looking for, she takes a breath.
"King Samir had an affair, and after a few weeks they realized she was pregnant. So the king created a plan in an effort to hide the affair from his wife. The woman would return to her home and after she gave birth to the child she would leave him in the care of a neighboring king. King Alaric. Whom Samir had made a deal with. Take care of his illegitimate child, and he would give Alaric a portion of his army, wealth and land."
"Who was she? Did you know her?" I ask.
"Yes, very well in fact." She looks gently into my eyes, with that same familiar gaze as when I first arrived in Mournewood.
"But she died a long time ago." Her gaze drops to the floor and then back to me. Any familiarity in her expression has vanished. She walks quietly past me to the altar. I stand silently, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. I've heard the history of the Noxland many times and poured over texts for hours. But to know that the blood of the very man that ended the Rose War courses through my veins. Terrifies me. All I wanted to do was avenge my family, to give them peace. And now... I may be the key to returning the Noxbleum cult to whatever hell they crawled out of. My shoulders feel heavy, my chest tightens, I can't breathe. I'm panicking.
"Soren." Nyx's soft voice cuts through the anxiety snapping reality back into focus. "Come." She sets a gentle hand on the altar. "It's time."
