Ocreth's Beacon
"Like a fallen star, a dew-kissed leaf fell from a tree and landed amidst two intertwined dragons; one of magma and scale, the other of flesh and bone."
Each vignette offers you a small window into the vastness of Amashik—an ambient worldbuilding experience that unveils the untold tales and mysteries of this enchanting realm.
First, the seas rose. Then, the mountains trembled and split.
And from those wounds poured rolling flame.
It wasn’t long then until the winged beasts tore free, and once again found the sky.
The Cresting Wave moved proudly through the sky on the night Olivia was captured; Ocreth forbade all bloodshed by their devotees after the Intertwined Dragons were visible and before the Cracking Peak lit up the night sky. There were ways around this, of course, but she’d decided to honor custom and leave her fate in the hands of the ancient one.
Earlier that day before the troops took her into captivity, she’d run into a young mother and her daughter. The two sat quietly beneath the shade of a dreamcord tree; its long, willowy branches protecting them from the heat of the midday sun.
The young girl, who Olivia would later learn was named Madelyn, was reading from a book she could barely hold in her small hands. Her mother, Bethany, held the tome in place. As Olivia approached, Bethany squeezed the book shut and pulled it from her daughter’s hand. “Momma, I wasn’t finished,” Madelyn objected.
“Good day to you, ladies. May I sit with you?” Olivia gently pulled back her hood, revealing her long, dark curly hair.
“We needn’t the company.” Bethany said.
“If it puts you at ease, I’ll sit the opposite side and won’t say a word.” Olivia responded kindly. She lifted her cloak and brandished an apple as a gesture of peace.
Olivia tossed the fruit to Madelyn. The little girl’s eyes burst open with joy as she caught it and took a bite. Rounding the tree, Olivia hummed a tune the shipman's servant sang each morning of her journey to Tidemore.
Unsurprisingly, the young girl sang along. “As the waves roll in, the tide moves higher; is his majesty King, and the Ward our sire.”
Madelyn continued.
“No temporal thing can draw his ire; he holds fealty dear, so shed desire. The Ward is mine and I am his; my parents before me, and all of my kin.”
Olivia sang the final line with the girl. “I am not worthy, for no one is.”
She moved to sow the first seeds of doubt in the young girl’s mind. “Funny thing for a deity to say, no? Isn’t one’s devotion enough?”
Bethany gasped as she hastily gathered their belongings and ushered Madelyn away by the wrist. Olivia, undeterred, stood to follow.
“Wait,” Olivia called out, her voice tainted with urgency. “Please, hear me out. There are truths you have yet to discover, knowledge that could change your lives forever.”
Bethany paused, her expression a mix of skepticism and apprehension. “We have no interest in your tales, stranger. Our lives are complicated enough as it is,” she replied, her voice weary.
“I understand the reluctance, but there are forces at play beyond our comprehension,” Olivia persisted, her gaze falling to Madelyn. “There are dragons in our midst, ancient beings who hold the key to forbidden knowledge.”
Madelyn’s eyes widened with wonder at the mention of dragons, her curiosity piqued despite her mother’s grip on her wrist tightening still. “Dragons?” she whispered, her voice barely above a hushed breath.
“Yes, dragons,” Olivia affirmed, seizing the opportunity to capture Madelyn’s imagination. “They are powerful creatures, guardians of secrets long forgotten. But their wisdom comes at a price, for not all knowledge is meant to be wielded by mortal minds.”
Bethany’s grip on Madelyn’s wrist threatened to rip her hand off. Madelyn yelped in pain. “Enough of this,” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.
“Come, Madelyn, we must be on our way.”
And as Olivia watched the two disappear into the trees, she couldn’t shake the feeling that destiny had woven them together but for a moment; only to tear them apart when its needs were not met.
After walking for a time, Olivia settled down a few dozen feet from the road. Sure she didn’t want to be spotted, she elected not to start a fire. Instead, she nestled underneath her cloak and some brush she’d thrown together before the sun set. The air was frigid, the wind packed a punch; yet she could feel Ocreth’s presence within it. Olivia’s mind went to her Patron and their intrinsic warmth; while it did little for her limbs, at least her spirit burned at the thought. She found sleep.
Dreams of flapping wings amid cresting waves juxtaposed with hellish visions of cracking peaks. Rolling flames flashed against the nothingness. Chalices spilled, tables overturned, as talons scraped stone and a winged serpent took to the sky. Flames faded; a majestic beast slept coiled in its own warmth. Like a fallen star, a dew-kissed leaf fell from a tree and landed amidst two intertwined dragons; one of magma and scale, the other of flesh and bone.
Olivia tossed and turned, images flickering in her mind, until footfalls atop dry underbrush stirred her awake. Glowing in low torchlight, the otherwise silent figures moved with purpose. Olivia couldn’t be sure how long they’d been tracking her, but that mattered little then. Acknowledging their presence, she called out from the dark. “Do you enjoy frightening young women?”
“We could ask the same of you, wench. In the name of Lord Arnulf, Keeper of The Tides, you are to be brought before him to answer for your crimes.”
Pulled out of the past by a glowing red sun, Olivia ripped free from her stiff roughspun blanket. As her warm feet tumbled from her bed, she’d hoped to take flight. Instead, she found the cold, hard floor.
Having grown accustomed to moving about in the dark, she welcomed the faint glow as she made her way to the washbasin. Wetting her face, gently cupping and pouring water in one hand onto the next, massaging her palms and temples- her customs still held. Here, buried underneath her captor’s keep, Olivia wouldn’t forsake Ocreth. Especially not on a day such as this.
Deep within, she knew she’d find herself free in time. This was not to be her fate; her place was beneath the open sky.
The clanking of the guard’s keys could be heard from atop the stairs.
“Good.” Olivia had forgotten the sound of her own voice.
Unlike everyday prior, she returned to her basin, dipping both hands in this time. She splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair. She stood ready for her handler. Something she’d been reluctant to do thus far in captivity. The guard didn’t notice the shift in her disposition.
Olivia lifted her hands unprompted as her escort slid and latched manacles to her wrists. Olivia smiled and stepped back.
“C’mon now, lady. We’ve got a big crowd up there today.” He paused, “lord’s got the lot of ‘em believing today is the day you break; and he’s got the headsman up there to be sure of it.”
Olivia met the man’s eyes for the first time. Her own softened as she found her voice again for the second time in months.
“Lead the way.” She gestured towards the stairs.
As the two ascended, auburn light broke through into the otherwise dank stairwell from the great hall above.
“It is such a beautiful day. Wouldn’t you say?” Olivia asked.
Turning, the guard replied, “do you understand what he means to have done to you?”
“Whatever your lord’s plans, I am prepared.”
As they entered the great hall, the path to the front of the dais was lined with spectators; their faces a mixture of revulsion and enthrallment. Each of them- from halfling to warlock- was surprised to see what they believed was a monster, was anything but.
Well put for her age, Olivia stood as tall and fair as any in the crowd. Despite going without much food and drink, her figure was still full enough to command attention. Her nut-brown hair, though clearly in need of a wash, fell below her shoulders. The glint in her eye held the burning glow of the waning morning light. Though shackled, she felt better than she had in weeks.
Over the last few turns, Lord Arnulf brought Olivia forth periodically to pressure her to renounce her faith. Every fortnight, if her sense of things could still be trusted, he would parade her before pampered guests, his council, even simple folk. Whomever he wished to impress had a chance to see his feeble attempts to break her spirit.
His god was a hanged god. One whose sacrifice was said to have been to free these people from bondage. Yet these were vile people; men, women and children, who took pleasure in her pain.
What would you expect from those so low that they follow a man who simply died for his flock? The voice echoed inside Olivia’s head. She fought back a smile. A woman, her dark purple skin making her stand out from the rest, caught Olivia’s eye. The elvish woman cut her eyes towards the floor, but it was too late. Olivia could sense her fear.
“First, the seas rose.” Olivia said, playing right into it.
Unbeknownst to any in attendance, save Olivia herself, an unbreakable series of events had begun. It was prophetic that this was the day this foolish lord had invited the headsman. Hooded upon the dais, he stood unwavering; a pillar of discipline amongst a sea of wanton malevolence.
Lord Arnulf waved his hand to hush the crowd. “Ah! Lively this day, are ya?”
Waiting to continue until the final murmurs dissipated, the lord gestured towards the headsman and continued, “we’re here for your confession, wench. Speak now or we’ll coax it out of ya.”
“Then, the mountains trembled and cracked.” Smiling, Olivia spoke her sects words with pride.
“Does she understand the crimes she’s accused of?” A man shouted down to her from the dais, despite looking at Lord Arnulf.
“I wasn’t certain she spoke our tongue until a moment ago. But now that I know she does, I’m sure she knows that god of hers is a false one.” Lord Arnulf said.
Olivia’s eyes locked onto Arnulf’s. “And from those wounds poured rolling flame.”
None of them noticed the sky had grown angry; darkened clouds rolled in, blotting out the blazing red sun.
“I’m sure you’ve tired of the company of your own piss and shit. Renounce that false idol and you shall be free to go. You may remain in Ingenwia should it please you. Though you’ll need to bear the brand.”
Lord Arnulf was a large man, but the fellow to his left was nearly twice his size. He moved aside, unveiling a brazier. The fat man unclasped the door and swung it open. Olivia could feel the heat from where she stood, some half a dozen feet away. Upon feeling the heat, her eyes closed, and a smirk crept across her face.
“You’re beginning to bore me, and to think I had many hopes for you… for us.” The fat man said. Brandishing an iron rod, he met Olivia’s smirk with his own lascivious grin.
“Send her back to the Provinces in pieces! Let them use that magic of theirs and make a dog of her!” A heckler cried out.
The room erupted in laughter, but Olivia was unbothered.
The faces that surrounded her weren’t unfamiliar. Olivia’s kind never found friendly receptions; rules of basic hospitality seemed to flutter in the wind once she and her ilk revealed themselves. Would it not have been easier to remain hidden? To assume a disguise or a false identity? Of course, but Ocreth demanded loyalty and steadfast devotion.
Lord Arnulf’s disposition towards Olivia was always cold. She was nothing more than a play thing to him; a false idol worshipper, a blasphemer. That she’d survived as long as she had was a testament to Ocreth. If he could have, he’d have ordered her dead here on the spot; she could sense it- along with the need to stop him. At that thought, his words caught in his throat.
Lord Arnulf’s eyes bulged, his mouth twitched open and shut as he silently gasped for air. Laughter turned to shouting as the people of Tidemire grew more impatient; ignorant of the fact that their lord was suffocating before them. Olivia fell to her knees in prayer.
Lord Arnulf’s guests had suffered his hesitation long enough.
“On with it already!” A voice cried out.
“Kill the wench, hell, beat her at the least,” called another.
A third voice, a woman’s this time, followed up quickly from the other side of the hall. “We came here for a show! If we aren’t going to get it, let’s move on to the feast.”
As the lord worked feverishly to regain control of his lungs, Olivia felt a burning deep within. Where her womb once sat, a sensation of heat now emanated instead. She lifted her chest for the first time in days; her eyes met stone, yet her heart ached for sky. At that moment, the great hall trembled and shook.
Shouts now made way for silence. The crowd tried their best to brace themselves from the shakes. Olivia, on her hands and knees, swayed, and she finished her prayer.
“It wasn’t long then until the winged beasts tore free, and once again found the sky.”
As the tension mounted in the great hall, a foreboding silence descended upon the crowd. The once-boisterous spectators now stood frozen in disbelief, their faces a canvas of shock and fear.
Then, a primal roar that reverberated through the very foundations of the great hall ripped through the air. The ground trembled beneath their feet as if Tidemire herself cowered in fear. Goblet filled hands now empty, clasped bleeding ears.
With wide eyes, Olivia felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, a connection so deep, so true, it sent shivers down her spine. Ocreth’s roar echoed in her soul, awakening something dormant within her.
And as the last echoes of the dragon’s roar faded into the distance, Olivia knew that the time for reckoning had come. The winged beasts had been unleashed, their divine judgement would once more weigh the deeds of mortals.
With a steely resolve, Olivia rose to her feet, her gaze meeting the stunned faces of the crowd. She always knew that her fate had been entwined with the dragons, the guardians of forbidden knowledge and harbingers of change.
As the chaos unfolded around her and the onlookers tried to flee, Olivia stood tall and unyielding, ready to embrace whatever destiny awaited her in the vast expanse of the sky. For she was no longer a captive, but a beacon, and the world she knew was on the brink of upheaval.
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