Despite the walls dividing sections of the city passage through the gates isn't restricted. Or else the guards just assume that someone escorted by a full dragon should be left alone. Each new section seems a little fancier than the previous one, until they pass through a park that takes up the Shoulder zone, and beyond that is the Library starting at the Neck. It looks a bit like a university as well (and may be one) with everyone having the air of a scholar or the frantic pace of a student. There is a wild variety of non-Kobold, non-Draconian types here, including creatures that seem to be confined to environment suits. The constant chatter makes up the background noise of the section.
"More students," Wallams grumps. "Try not to make eye-contact, especially if you can't tell what they're using for eyes."
"It's surprisingly cosmopolitan," Tasha remarks of the variety, having been unsure of what to expect and, based on prior exposure, wondering if the Library would be a primarily draconian affair. The broad range of people's is comforting, but also paints a perspective; perhaps she's only one of a handful of beings form their universe fighting some inscrutable menace, and there may be many more besides with similarly important reasons to be here. At the very least, it inspires confidence in Tasha -- if so many flock here, from so many places, then the Library seems to be under a universal recommendation.
"Some of these people will spend their entire lives researching a single topic," Wallams notes, "and still not have enough time to go through all of the material. More keeps coming in, so it's difficult to keep pace without a research group."
"The problem of data and an infinite multiverse, especially when dimensional exotics are added to the mix," the red woman observes. She may not be a researcher in the traditional sense, but she has been exposed to so much, and inferred more besides from her travels, that she has gained a certain broadness of vision and understanding perhaps at odds with her presentation and education. "Is the Library limited to only a few topics, or broad as it can be?"
"I don't think it can be limited," Wallams says as they move along the main avenue. "The problem is that the subject index itself is unlimited."
"That's true. I suppose you could make a decision to limit the Library to a certain set of topics, but I don't get the impression that's the intent here." Tasha does try not to make eye contact, she's been around Hakeber and her Abaddonian pals and knows well that the desperation of students can attach to anyone who pays them too much attention. And if she's not frenzied she may be a teacher, and if she's a teacher who doens't look busy then clearly she's free to answer questions and take on more responsibilities.
The pair manage to navigate the hazards and reach a large, ornate building done in white marble and brass. There are a lot of people queued up at several entry points, but the dragon takes Tasha past all of that to what seems to be a fancy looking waiting room. "Well, this is it," the dragon claims. "Go up to the desk at the end. Do not take a number."
"It, do not take a number," Tasha repeats, nodding slowly. She turns to the dragon and gives him a smile. "Thanks for showing me the way. I guess it's back to the tavern for you?"
"I've wasted my downtime, so I'll have to round up a class now," Wallams grouses. "They keep getting better at hiding or setting snares to slow me down."
Tasha barks a laugh at that, then reaches over to pat the dragon on whatever part she can actually reach. "Aww, I'm sure they appreciate it later in life. Come to think of it, why did you abandon your free time to help me? Was it the browbeating?"
"It was your boobs," the dragon admits, but without any tone of shame. "And the feathers."
"Nice to see the old tricks still work, at least." Tasha tries to grab the dragon's head and give him a peck on the cheek. "Don't be too mean to your students, now. And take care."
"I'll bite them gently then," Wallams promises. "Good luck."
"You too." Tasha gives a wave, then she's turning and off towards the desk at the end, wondering what awaits her.
There is a very large half-dragon woman behind the marble desk, with several different styles of data tablets. She has one in each hand and seems to be reading from both at once. She notices Tasha and looks up. "Hmm, that was fast," she comments. She's wearing a not very convincing wig between her horns. "The notice didn't say if you were to be given a pass or sent to Collections."
"Fast?" Tasha had spent most of her day wandering around, talking to children, flirting with women, pestering teachers and applying for a job, so it doesn't feel exactly fast to her, but maybe it's fast by the standards of beings who live thousands of years. "I received the notice from the Headmaster and was guided over directly by dragon Wallams." She's a little surprised no further details were given for her arrival, if the library is so busy it misses steps, that's important for her to know.
"Give me a moment to sort it out," the receptionist says, and sets her tablets down to pick up a different one. She doesn't tap at it or do anything other that stare intently at the screen. Then she sets it down and rummages through a drawer before coming up with a brightly color band. "Hold out your.. which is your dominant hand, if you have one?"
Tasha considers extending a wing but she supposes the time for being sassy ended with entry to a waiting room. If she doens't behave herself she could be waiting a long time. The woman holds out her right hand. "This one."
"Then give me your other one," the woman requests.
Tasha swaps hands, "Here you are." She feels silly despite feeling she shoudn't.
The band is slapped down on Tasha's left wrist, and wraps around it. "Now, if you're here for research, what subject are you looking into?" the receptionist asks.
"Primarily the means by which to oppose, combat, and if possible destroy deities of dimensionality different from my own, specially beings known as the 'Ogdoad' in my universe, a trapped pantheon of Order-aligned beings made of a primal and literally timeless hunger who have been trapped in my universe. As well as dealing with them directly, I also need to deal with their servants, the Ogdru'hem. We call this class of beings demons, specifically Shadows. Aside from that I'm interested in quasi or actual dimensional travel, recovery of damaged and destroyed souls, especially through linking via demonic identity-universes, and general aid to the task at hand such as means of travel, weaponry, combative techniques, anything that might be of help traversing my and other universes to get where I need to be better, faster, and more intact, and then overcome what awaits me," Tasha answers, and then she needs to take a deep breath because that was a lot to say.
"It looks like a lot of that is restricted," the half-dragon notes. "You'll need authorization from the Head Librarian. But first you should proceed to the cathedral," she notes, after reading a new message on one of her tablets.
"I should?" Tasha supposes what she's after is of a decidedly religious nature being that her opponents are, in fact, actual deities and probably have worship. A cathedral visit makes sense. "I suppose I should."
The band on her wrist begins glowing gold. "Just go through the door next to me and follow trail that matches your band color," the woman instructs, then pulls on something behind the desk to make the heavy brass door next to the desk open slightly.
"Can do. Thank you for your time miss." Tasha's bow is respectful; she's learned being disrespectful tot he people who make organizations organized often leads to a sudden disorganization of her future, and as she'd decided, now's not the time to be irreverent and frivolous. She's here. She has her mission. She had her fun, now it's time to work. And, she smiles to the receptionist before turning to head for the now opened door and follow the glow.
The marble corridor extends in a straight line for a good distance, with the glowing golden guide-line floating in the air before Tasha. It goes all the way to the end of the hall and ends in the center of what seems to be a marble wall.
Tasha stands before the marble wall and her ears wilt. "Either this thing is broken or this is a secret door." She steps forward to begin feeling around the wall, looking for some hidden entrance. "Hello?"
Her hand sinks in, and then she finds herself in a vaulted chamber so large that there are clouds near the top. Tier upon tier of galleries circle it, full of cabinets, bookcases, statues and works of art. The center of the chamber is taken up by a swirling aurora of color just above the floor.
"Wow," goes Tasha, who once she's done stumbling in takes a moment to look around as she smooths her clothes back in to a semblance of order. "Classical." And she knows this is warped space, this location can't fit in the obvious confines of the Library, if she assumes that has obvious internal confines. In hindsight she supposes it must all warp as needed and, assuming this chamber isn't an illusion, that that and this would all be necessary to begin to approach the infinite knowledge of the universe.
After she's done taking in the sight, at least on a cursory level, Tasha begins walking inward. She isn't sure if she's supposed to sit down somewhere, begin looking for what she came here for, or approach the center. Since the center is the shiniest option, she naturally gravitates to it. "Hello.. energy rainbow?" For some reason she's immediately reminded of the Wizards, if the Wizards had a much more approachable and reassuring sibling with a taste for classical understatement.
"Greetings, Miss Argentine," the swirl of color replies. Given the size of the place, the voice is surprisingly soft. "Welcome to my Library."
Tasha smiles, gentle and relieved. It had occured to her, as it has for some time, that when she enters a vastly powerful being's domain she might come existence to existence with them. It has happened enough times that it's not the world-shaking surprise it once was, but both the meeting and its anticipation are always a source of some anxiety, and more so, uncertainty. That this being choses to meet her here, in this sort of place, speaking with a gentle voice, presenting itself as it is, strikes her as a good sign. Comfortable, the usual awe without any accompanying terror, soft spoken rather than booming. She knows he must have chosen this, it's rare for a being of such power and knowledge to do anything without detailed consideration, but not impossible. And when all is said and done in her review of the situation, she finds herself at ease, and that is worth a lot.
"Hello, Almaerifuhlon, I presume?" The name isn't exactly easy for her to say, Karnor muzzles are not Human mouths, and engineering or not, did not evolve to speak Human language, or any language. "And thank you. I feel welcome. Thank you for having me. I know my history has been a bit sordid, lately."
"It has crossed paths with one that I keep an eye on, and another that has been hidden for quite some time," the dragon-god replies. "That makes you a person of interest to me."
"Yeeeeah, everyone seems to be watching out for her, don't they? It seems like big dragon news and politics, headline: Kainudy returns." Tasha doens't even bother to hide who she's been associating with, if a dragon god of knowledge isn't already aware of these things, things well within his social realm, then she'd suspect she's in the wrong place. "Not that I know where she is right now. Or any of them." The woman runs a hand back through her hair. "Do you? I've been worried."
"Actually, I meant Thoth," the voice says, with something of a chuckle. "Kainudy vanished until recently, but anyone capable of defeating another dragon-god demands scrutiny. I know where they are at this moment, although 'where' is not an entirely accurate term." Something begins to grow in the center of the aurora: a golden sphere.
"Where really gets harder the more you know, doens't it? It's all.. All about relativity. Except when it's not. Maybe it;s better described in waves? But i'm not sophisticated enough to even begin to do that." Tasha shifts to fixate on the sphere, ears forward in case the sphere has something to say, and as a lead it holds her interest immediately. "I can see why Thoth might interest you, though I was never sure how 'big' he was on a greater multiversal stage. As he told me, he's one of many Thoths."
"We all go by many names, in many places and have many reflections," the voice notes. "The Queen of Demise, as the fey have named her, is something new. No prophesies of doom surround her, no dark rituals summon her. The Queen and the Crawling Chaos battle still, in the Unformed. A being that can supposedly kill anything, and the entity that cannot be killed. Thoth is there, and others. I am not the only one watching, for others have a vested interest in the outcome."
Tasha's ears lay back and she can feel a tightness well up in her chest as she goes to ask, "Can such a battle be won? By anyone? And is.. Is he okay?" She assumes a god of knowledge can infer her question, which is well and good because she finds it hard to ask directly.
"It is a battleground where the Queen has all the advantage, and Nyarlothotep is cut off from his main being," the voice explains. "The observers are safe within a barrier for now. Neither combatant is in a recognizable form, however, so it is difficult to follow things.. but I do believe Nyarlothotep is enjoying it all, which helps to track things somewhat, as the Queen is primarily delineated by pain and rage. There is a good possibility that Nyarlothotep will be banished from the Dreamlands however, at least for a while. The avatar has taken considerable damage."
"So they're winning and everyone else is okay then," Tasha says with audible relief, even letting out a breath and grabbing her knees as the worry falls off her shoulders. The entire affair could be called her fault and that claim would have some merit and she knows it, what's more a number of people she cares about are involved, the loss of any of whom would haunt her forever. "I'm glad. I'm glad. I mean, I'm not glad she's suffering, but I'm glad no one has died. Or worse."
"The Queen seems to have billions of hungry mouths, but they only bite and chew," the voice notes. "They don't swallow. The observers will hopefully be able to hold on to their sanity."
"So she's slipping a bit. Or more. I can't assess the condition of beings of that scope except only roughly. Persephone wouldn't let us down, though. Not intentionally. I have faith in her work." Tasha must, after all, but ti's more than that. "Well, maybe I can make something for Kainudy to return to, when it's all over for us both."
"Recovery may be slow in coming, if Kainudy is not completely lost to the Queen of Demise by this point," the voice cautions. "But this is not the knowledge you seek here."
"Not yet, anyway. But even if she can't recover, then we can try and provide a place to rest." But Tasha nods her head, conceding the point. "But I can't do much about that for now. I have my own battles to fight."
"Touch the golden orb, so that I might get a full analysis of your suitability to handle the knowledge you seek," the voice requests.
Tasha's ears go askew and her muzzle twists before she can even help it. She hates these kinds of tests, because all too often they had Nora looking at her with that amused, slightly condescending smile, or a teacher staring at her, or someone shaking her head. She reaches over to touch the orb like it's going to burn her and scrunches her muzzle up.
It causes her to buzz a bit, but not enough for her fur to stand up. The orb begins to glow in shadow-colors though, and what might be symbols flash across it briefly.
Tasha hopes she didn't break the orb, she has a habit of breaking things in unexpected ways, including gods and their works. She thinks it's what the Crawling Chaos likes about her.
The buzzing stops and the orb returns to normal. "You have the ability to read the Book," the voice says once the test ends. "For your reality, it will be the Book of Eibon, though it has many names depending on the reader's reality."
Tasha is glad the swirling color didn't frown at her. She'd know. As she steps back she forces herself in to a more neutral expression so as not to seem too ridiculous in her relief. "I've heard of Eibon, the Wizard Thoth was involved with. I believe he mentioned this, although it's been a while. I'm familiar with viewer-dependent entity expressions."
"The key is your shadow eye," the voice notes. "It should keep your mind from breaking."
"Yeah lets not do that again," Tasha says with some exasperation, "I'm sure you saw how well that went. So," ear up, head tilted, "The next question is what does the book do, and then, where to find it?"
"The book is a portal of sorts," Almaerifuhlon explains. "It opens a connection between you and those outside. Knowledge may flow in both directions, but it is living knowledge. It will expand the darkness from your shadow eye, and coil inside. You may or may not be able to summon that knowledge when you desire it. It may decide when to act itself. I believe you have seen some of this in one of your companions."
"Hake. But her version is linked to a single entity, isn't it?" Tasha tilts her head.
"It may have a specific target, but that does not mean it is not applicable to others until then," the voice notes. "Linear causality does not necessarily apply in these case. Dark knowledge can affect the past as well as the future."
"The benefits of omnidirectional temporal vectored existences. Also, I think, a weakness. If a being exists across all times then it can be attacked from all of them, too. It's something I hope to exploit, but we can cover that later. More about the book?" Tasha's ears perk forward.
"It may demand something from you," the voice warns. "Whether you are aware of it or not. This could be something taken in the past, present or future. It may be an act you have no control over, or a contract. It depends on which entity contacts you."
"There's always a price, right? I'm familiar with Hastur and Thotep, and I feel like they keep taking long past whatever they originally asked for. Yet, the other path just leads to ruin past and present. Or, I could have someone else do it, with similar consequences, better or worse." Tasha rubs her nose, thinking. "Well, I came this far. I don't intend to give up, even if I fall flat now and then." Much more now than then, these days.
"Always ask for the price up front," is the advice of the dragon-god.
"Juts lack back in the Bizarre," Tasha notes with a simple. "Well, so that's the book and how it works, right? Is there more to know? And where can it be found?"
The floor shakes, and pieces of stone begins to sink at the center of the chamber, forming a spiraling stair. "The dungeon," Almaerifuhlon states, and Tasha's guide band glows black.
"Another god-dragon dungeon," Tasha repeats, not going anywhere. She just stares at the steps feeling her breathing begin to increase and her heart begin to pound. She inhales hard drawing the breath through her flaring nostrils.
"You will need your third eye," the voice reminds.
Tasha exhales a ragged breath, which also turns in to a bit of raspberries at the end. "Alright. Lets do it, then." She squares her shoulders, straightens, and with some stiffness starts walking forward, third eye beginning to focus as she does.
To the shadow eye, the cathedral is dim and grey, but the stairs are lit by an ultraviolet glow, with no other illumination presenting itself.
"I've never seen architecture with the eye before. This may be the most defined set of shapes I've ever seen with it." Tasha keeps walking, though she does half-lid her eyes to keep from having to split her focus from the visible to the ineffable. "Well, down we go I suppose."
The stairs seem normal at first in the odd light, but they are narrow. Tasha's wings brush the walls of the tight downward spiral - turning around would be difficult, and that contributes to the overall claustrophobic sensation, as if the weight of all the stone around and above her was about to clench like a fist. The air is also stale, but thankfully odorless. The only sounds are the ones she makes, amplified by the confines of the descending shaft.
Tasha isn't sure if her difficult breathing is due to the confines, her memories of the last time she visited a god-dragon's dungeon, or the inexplicable sense of pressure she attributes to Almaerifuhlon's might and will suppressing and containing this place, for she doens't think the forbidden section is warded by mere guards and stonework.
Down and down, nothing changing.. until it does. She doesn't see it, and doesn't quite feel it, but knows something has changed. The atmosphere is different, as if she's moving underwater now. Things seem blurrier to her senses.
It's about this point Tasha wonders if she's walking around in the god's brain, figuratively or even literally. Both could be true. She isn't sure she'd want her in her brain, after all she's been in her brain and that's worked out in a myriad of ways, but here she is and this place won't get any less oppressive for her ruminating. She walks and she walks, not sure what to make of the distortion or the ocean-like effect. Maybe it's because this place is a memory that defines definition, or it cannot fully exist. Maybe the god has forgotten some of this, or tries not to remember too clearly. She supposes she may find out.
The walls become smoother, and then she reaches the end of the stairs as she steps onto what feels like a gravel floor, but looking closer in the darklight, it appears to be composed of crushed bone. The crunching step echoes oddly in the chamber.
Tasha frowns at this floor, wondering if she's standing on literal or figurative bones, or if such a distinction doesn't matter to the kind of beings that could occupy such a place, attached to such a Book. The Book, after all, differs in appearance -- in perception -- depending on its viewer, as can many beings from Beyond. Perhaps whats she sees is this, the remains of those beyond, perceived as she might perceive them. A graveyard for the memories of the memetic, the conceptual, those beyond time, space, and comprehension. It fills her with a kind of still melancholy, like looking at a motionless pond in the dead of night, alone. She considers this all for a long moment before walking on.
There are pillars of polished obsidian forming an out circle, which reflect dim, distorted images of Tasha in passing. There are more of them deeper in, forming some larger pattern that is too big for Tasha to grasp. But their is a brighter area in what might be the center of the structure, where she can see a collection of tables, pedestals and cases.
Part of Tasha wants to linger here, to examine the pillars, the embrace this still, lonely, melancholic silence. To figure out the pattern, not because she needs to or wants to, but because it will let her linger here. There is something to this place and those like it she can never quite put to words and she suspects that won't change even when she leaves. Perhaps it's some essence of what drives her to explore and chase the horrors, some reflection of her soul made material by a need to make material that which is not.
But she can't stay, or rather, she suspects if she does stay she may never leave one way or another. And so Tasha makes her way forward, to the center, and the presentation lit in the darkness.
There are artifacts, generally disturbing sculptures, daggers, jewelry and dark gems. Some of these are scattered across the black stone slap of a table that is strewn with loose parchments and bound tomes alike.
Tasha presumes that it's her duty to find the Book, that finding the Book may be part of some test, or a bonding ritual. All the artifacts interest the explorer in her and the part that has remained fascinated by the dark. She takes a moment to inspect each one, appreciating the collection even if she doesn't know the significance of the objects. The daggers remind her of her own Marker, however, and Galatea who continues to cling to it. She's sad to realize she may have added to the collection of such objects in the universe, but part of her is fascinated by her contribution to the alluring and unfettered dark, a part she's not entirely comfortable with but cannot deny.
What Tasha doens't do is touch. That could create a connection, and she has no idea what these things do, and may not comprehend it if she were told. Some or all, they're here for a reason, and that reason is that they are dangerous to know. Fascinating, though.
The visible parchments have strange diagrams and stranger writing, but mainly they each depict some sort of horrific entity, and looking at any of them for more than a glance has a pulling effect that Tasha has to fight against, where the page seems to float above a barely seen abyss.
Tasha assumes this, then, is the portal effect. She further assumes most beings who use these things -- especially mortals -- never perceive the portal so directly. They may understand it, but not see it. To her it's like getting a glimpse behind the stage of a reality to the production required so the real can be cajoled. It makes her feel a bit like an outsider, someone with special knowledge only insiders -- in this case Outsiders -- ever truly see.
But now Tasha realizes she must chose. A draw to one entity, however, seems false. The Book of Eiban does not seem to play favorites, it is an open line to what callers may come. It will not be the books with a single connection. She passes these by unless they show signs of changing, lingering just long enough to try and feel the essence of a single entity and feling for that change, or for others.
The tomes are covered in symbols, some of which change and twist when looking at them. But she spots one that she recognizes. It was definitely part of the set that appeared around and within Dark Horse when it became the Dagger of Eibon to destroy Urgo-hem.
Tasha stops, not having expected to find something familiar of all things. This is a archive of the darkest things, for her to have almost casual knowledge of some of its contents feels wrong somehow. Or, perhaps she's the wrong thing, the exception to a rule of sanity and order that breaks the mould. She remains a while to study the book, wondering at what it means, though she never touches it.
She can't be certain of some of the other symbols, but there is a sense of familiarity. And the book seems more physical than some of the others as well. "Are you just gonna stare at it?" Blackwings complains in her head.
"Oh, you're watching, then? You should know being in my ehad doesn't protect you from these, being a thought or a soul-shard is no safe place. Not to these." Still, Tasha supposes she should do more than look, and she's already connected to Hastur so her concern is far less than with the others she does not know. Along with this the dragon-god would know her connection and thus anticipate her being drawn to this particular book offering some reassurance she isn't making a mistake. As she reaches to pick up the work, "When did you start becoming interested in esoteric occultisim?"
"I woke up when you passed those mirror stones," Blackwings claims. "Maybe to sit on your shoulder and watch if you're about to get sucked into something."
"Or maybe it's a ward. Hard to say, but I assume the god knows what he's doing in sending me here alone. If I'm alone." Tasha hesitates for a moment, then hooks a finger under the cover and flips to the first page.
The first page includes a drawing of the goat-faced aspect of Thotep. There aren't weird diagrams or spells to go with it, nor anything other than the image. The page stays flat however - no sense of anything behind it. Maybe he's otherwise occupied at the moment.
Tasha likens this to the error tone she would get when she tried to connect to a landline in The Pit and it was busy. She'd wish him well but the very idea is ludicrous, possibly even to the deity himself, and he's probably her enemy on many, many levels. She has no idea what sentiment to express, then, and even thinking about it causes her to lock up for a moment, so she solves the problem by just flipping the page.
Like the parchments, the pages are full of strange diagrams and entities, but one catches Tasha's attention because it reminds her of Samael: an amorphous, devouring servitor entity, and how to summon and bind one. If she studies the page, everything begins to squirm.
"Does the irony of my pursuing a book of demon gods to call upon to fight demon gods get you, too? It's metaphorical even. A catalogue of evils to fight evils. Does this make you feel justified, or make it all worse?" Tasha studies the page but not overlong. She's not here to summon anything, and uncertain what would happen if she did. She's surrounded by artifacts of incredible power and danger, and she's been the secret disease, the monkey wrench, in the existence of great beings before. She could be again. This would be the place to be so.
Near the middle of the tome, the entities begin to get more abstract, and the spells(?) involving them taking up several pages (often with fold outs). It isn't clear if they're individual entities or an entire class of them.
Tasha considers this and is then struck with a bone-chilling realization: If these are pantheons, then that means the Ogdoad are here within. Somewhere. She can almost feel them lurking in the pages, and they know her. They've known her for a while, or maybe their knowing of her is atemporal, perhaps here is where they learned of her, and so they knew of her then. And she knows, because she must, she will come across their page in this place, in a shortness of time.
And that they may speak to her.
It feels like it always had to be. What was a suggestion looks and feels like the inevitable. For beings like them, the optional and the inevitable can be one and the same for a being like her. Time needn't flow linearly, for those that stand outside it. She can never know if now was the point when time flowed or if it already had, in a loop, or some other variation, or if it started here and their knowledge of her is in some relative past.
Then Tasha comes across a depiction that is very familiar: Katha-hem.
Tasha frowns at this, not out of sadness, or anger, or any real emotion so much as pure recognition. Her relationship with Katha-hem is more civil than with most of the Ogdru'hem, with the exception of perhaps Tatha-hem. She decides to read and further begins to really believe this may be the book she's looking for.
There are many entries similar to the one on Katha-hem, and one that might be a reference to the cities of knowledge and their wizards (although Tasha has already dealt with one of them). Hastur's page comes as a shock, as it both pulls and urges Tasha to turn to a specific page.
Tasha isn't sure what to make of the mixed impulse,. but she believes the pull to be a kind of default between the two of them, the endless hunger of beings like Hastur trying to draw her in even as it tries to direct her. Knowing this she opts to turn the page to the one she's directed to, feeling this then is Hastur's advice, and not his hunger. Further it all informs Tasha Hastur knows what she's looking at, if not where she is and what she's doing, which can and could mean many things -- past present and future.
In a stray thought Tasha wonders if the draw towards Hastur might be useful to her desire to travel about. She read something briefly about Carcosa, and a certain star, and travel. Maybe she could use that. Later, though.
The page she lands on is covered by layered diagrams, but the more Tasha looks the more it seems like a map, with dimensions she can't quite sense.
Tasha has a moment of anxiety -- what if she can't understand any of this? What if, sight or no, she doesn't have a mind for it? What if it just ends here, without result? Without purpose?
The thought makes her angry, and sos he picks up the book and stares at it. What use is it, then, if she can do nothing with it? Hastur wouldn't point her at the pointless, would he? He might, she concedes. Pain and madness are their lot, perhaps he's grown bored of her, or doesn't think she'll do what he wants, and this is the punishment: futility. But she rejects this: even alone she will find a way here, she is not what she was and the dragon believes she can do this. or, read it. It said that using may be another matter entirely. She presses on.
It hits her like an icicle between her eyes, stabbing through the shadow eye and deep into brain. Knowledge she doesn't understand, that slithers away from attempts to grasp it, and coils up in the back of her mind. It makes her soul itch, and Blackwings yells incoherently throughout.
Tasha almost drops the book then and there, her body arching back and her gaze fixed at nothing at the darkness above. She hisses. The woman is no stranger to suffering of the body or mind, but this has a dirty taste, like eating poison or, more accurately, like eating food left to spoil in the gutter. She dearly hopes this isn't what Hakeber has to suffer, and all the more reason to get this stuff out of her friend if it is. Remembering Hakeber helps make the pain and awfulness bearable, it gives her focus and a reason to believe in what she's doing, a cause to martyr herself on.
The book closes once it hits the floor.. or possibly after hitting the floor, since Tasha was too distracted to notice something like that. There's chanting in her head, the voice very moist as it repeats, "Ammun Hamma Emm-Esh Nung. Omunng Anng Gugoramm Ashra," over and over, but slowly fading to silence.
Tasha clutches her head, but not in the manner of someone losing control or hopelessly overwhelmed. She's been maimed, broken, tortured, soul-crushed and killed, something like this won't bring her to her knees, but it is bad and it is the only thing she can focus on for a long while. When the sensation fades she shakes her head out, then shakes it again. The feeling of being fundamentally dirty remains, but the pain becomes a memory.
"Still with me, Blacky? I think I warned you.. " Tasha doesn't quite remember or just thinks she did, but she does remember the bird's incoherent rambling all too well.
Blackwings responds in a more hollow voice than she usually has, sounding like an actual ghost:
In a dream I found a place
Of rotting meat and eldritch grace
And looked upon its primordial face
And from my thoughts could not erase
That sense of time that sense of space
And my heart the darkness did embrace
"Very poetic. Welcome to my world." Tasha gives herself a few slaps to the cheek to try and sharpen her focus, mustering her willpower. She remembers where she is, surrounded by fell artifacts of unknown -- but undoubtedly horrible -- providence. Just one of them was a portal to all manners of gods, demons, and demon-gods, their servants, and she isn't sure what else, and supposes she'll find out, and the hard way. "Feeling extra-dead now, are we? I know the feeling, I get that way sometimes, too."
"I feel cold," Blackwings says.
"Something new, isn't it?" Tasha frowns down at the book like it was something hostile she'd just killed and wasn't sure might still be alive. It's probably still alive. It's probably always alive, everywhere. Every when. "The book. There was something.. No. No. Nothing's in the book, it's everywhere. It always was. Until it's not."
"Familiar," Blackwings says. "I've felt it before.."
"The machine." It's not a question; Tasha had long suspected Blackwing's experience with the eldritch Sifran device would come up sooner or later, though when that would be, she wasn't ever sure.
"Yes," Blackwings says. "It had been locked away before this."
"This.. spell or whatever it is.. uncovers ugly truths that have been buried," Blackwings suggests.
"I know it drove you to chose a darker path through life than you would have otherwise," Tasha notes, still studying the book. What's done and done, staring at it won't change what just happened. And, she suspects, even if she did walk away from it, it would just be there waiting for her the second she turned around. Like the sword, she suspects it's bound to her soul now. She reaches for it. "That is the nature of Hastur. That is his madness, to see the universe clearly."
The book doesn't react or resist being picked up off the floor.
Tasha looks the book over for a moment, then she puts it under her arm for now. The gesture feels far too banal for such an item, too practical and normal, but it's what she's doing for the moment. With her journey's goal attained she turns slowly to regard all the other artifacts with a newfound appreciation and a macbre curiosity. Even in her travels to dark places she's rarely come across such a concentrated gathering of artifacts, certainly not ones of the caliber she suspects they are.
They each look a bit brighter now, although the lighting hasn't changed. It's like they want attention.
"Oh, I bet you want attention." Tasha's grin is wry, grim. But she's here, she might as well learn as much as she can, and doing something is better than sitting in the darkness reflecting too much on what just happened -- she's sure there will be plenty of time for that later. "Are you going to be.. " She doens't finish the though since no words seem like enough, but she feels she should ask anyway, and along with action talking helps her steel herself to open the book again. Maybe it has a reference section.
The words are still unreadable and squirmy, and now it looks they have several depths, as if the top layer were just composed of the ones below it.
Tasha's sigh is heavy. She closes the book and pits it away, deciding it's not going to answer her questions like she'd like and, further, rethinking consulting it at all. She suspects it's her disorientation, but in hindsight opening it to reference artifacts feels a little like arming a nuclear weapon where a handgun might suffice. So she tours, walking around and inspecting everything, in case she finds meaning or reference. It seems unlikely that she will return here.
There's a shadow component to everything, often alive. Daggers have shadow teeth on their handles. The symbol-covered skulls have many eyes, but not in the eye sockets, which generally have mouths. Some of the 'simple' jewelry sorts have extra-dimensional shapes that hurt to look at. The totally bizarre might-be-art-sculptures and statues seem particularly active, with hungry eyes.
The only thing that doesn't have an active shadow is a circular pendant with an elaborate design. It's shadow.. looks the same as the regular look of it.
"Talk to me Blackwings." Tasha doesn't want her ghost to spiral in to madness, or absolute silence, or worse. She doesn't think it will help Blackwings, and it won't help her. At least she can comfort herself somewhat in knowing what she has isn't a real soul, but a incomplete fragment.
With that in mind, Tasha walks over to the amulet and frowns down at it, then hunkers down to look at it at table level. She isn't sure what to make of a.. cursed? Infernal? Demonic? Shadow? her world has become a carnival of ineffable evil and unknowable vileness under convenient but shallow labels.
She immediately gets a burning sensation.. in her mind. The coiled serpent of a spell is the source of the pain.
This irritates Tasha. "VERY DESCRIPTIVE," she growls in to the empty darkness of the room. The belated irony of having traveled so far to now possess a book -- something no one would have ever believed she'd want or read -- that she can't understand that speaks in the language of torment is a universal joke that's not lost on her.
The other artifacts seem to react as well. Whatever the amulet is, they do not like it, or at least don't like it being examined.
This, at least, is potentially useful to know. Tasha continues to eye the amulet, then decides the fire might be more than an attempt to annoy her. She does remember, from someone or somewhere, that the book won't simply give up its secrets directly, that it will act when it's ready to act. Perhaps this fire, then, is what that looks like. She steps well back from the amulet and reaches inwardly for the flame.
Once her attention is off of the amulet, the burning stops, but the shadow-viper is still there.
And so Tasha moves away, she doesn't want to accidentally destroy the amulet, suspecting it might be useful. She does want to know why the spell continues to reach out to her, but she can do that distanced from potential mischief. She reaches again.
The coiled viper of a spell hisses, metaphorically.
Well that's good enough for Tasha. She walks right over to the amulet and tries to pick it up and stuff it in her pocket. If everything's scared of it, surely she can make use of such a thing.
There's some resistance from the spell, which buries itself deeper away in Tasha subconscious. "That feels better," Blackwings claims.
"It looks like we came for one artifact and ended up with two," Tasha remarks of the change of pace. She glances around, sees nothing further to keep her here, then with a deep breath she heads in to the darkness beyond the pillars.
And runs nose first into an invisible barrier between the pillars, which suddenly sport a glowing version of the symbol on the amulet.
Tasha yelps, more for the suddenness than for the pain. "Oh what is this," she complains, gesturing at the wall while rubbing her nose. "Am I not allowed to take this? Dragon god?"
The grimoire is too dangerous to allow outside of the barrier, is the reply that Tasha gets. You may only take the knowledge you gain from it.
"You could have told me that earlier," Tasha notes, but she does at least agree with the sentiment. She -- still rubbing her nose -- walks right back to the table and puts the book down where she remembers picking it up. "There. What about the amulet?"
It keeps the artifacts in line, but the symbol itself can be copied, the god replies.
Tasha had a thought to copy it. Thus the red woman pulls out the amulet and some paper, then begins to trace the amulet using rubbing tools she's had around but never had a chance to use before. Apparently they're very useful for taking impressions of stonework, or so Hakeber said. Once that's done she then copies a few more to be safe, including a sketch, as she's uncertain she can recreate the symbol purely by memory -- perhaps she should try to learn how she decides. "Done." The symbol is then replaced to where she got it from.
The one on the paper seems to sharpen up from being a rubbing, the white lines becoming clearer.
Tasha decides that's probably a good -- she coughs a laugh at the inadvertent pun -- sign and makes a few more rubbing, which she hides around her person to avoid losing. It would be tragic if she lost such an important potential ward or weapon through the ravages of every day rain or a thief's sticky fingers.
That done she eyes the book once more. Hastur did pull her, but the being also redirected her. She isn't sure if that meant there were two items of interest or he was just hungry. They're always hungry.
There may be more spells, if they don't fight each other.
"Well, here we go." But Tasha pauses, looking up. "I'm going to keep reading, alright? Any thoughts?"
I haven't read the tome myself, the god says, which is odd for a God of Knowledge. So the contents may not be compatible with dragon gods. I do suggest that you focus on what you wish to find before opening it though. Magic books can respond to that.
"Thank you, I'll do that." And so Tasha will, but it does take some thought, so she picks the book back up, sits down on the floor cross legged, and considers.
First, Tasha isn't sure what the first spell does, but it appears to be a map from her impression of it and Hastur thought it was the most important to locate. Blackwings suggested it lets a being see clearly hidden and unpleasant truths. The latter is very much in keeping with what she knows of Hastur, it's his kind of spell. And it may be more. What else does she needs?
The most obvious thing to search for next is a practical one: transport. She routinely circumnavigates time, space, and places that only tangentially have to do with anything she knows as time or space. The gods she knows of, and the beings she hunts, all tend to travel in obscure methods, often ignoring intervening spaces. Getting from point A to point B can be its own danger, and some places may be inaccessible to conventional travel. Thus, after steeling herself, she searches for a method to traverse space, time, and realities -- a hunter cannot catch what they cannot reach.
The book opens to page that has something like a barred gate drawn amidst the complicated text. There's a deep space behind the gate in shadow-vision. Although it also gives the impression of chaos.
Tasha eyes the gate. It does look like transportation; didn't the kitsune say something about a gate? Tasha wonders at this gate, if it is the gate the kitsune spoke of, or some other form of gate. The kitsune mentioned power beyond the gate, which may have nothing to do with travel.
As she focuses on the gate, Tasha overlooks something else on the page.. a silver key. It doesn't look like a drawing and it doesn't look quiet real either.
A key, she knows, opens things. And her is a gate. A Silver Key for a gate. A gate, she can only assume, beyond. That sounds like what she needs. For a moment she wishes someone like Hakeber was here to guide her, she feels both immense from her accomplishments and endurance, yet at the same time insufficient for the task. Not, as it happens, like usual these days. She presses forward, she's the one who is here and she came for a reason. hesitation before the book doesn't seem wise. She reaches for the key.
Her fingers pass through it.. but Blackwing's don't. "Shiny!" the dead Vartan croons as she grabs the key.
Tasha sighs inwardly. "You were all doom and gloom, now you're grabbing my shinies?" Well, at least she has it -- sort of.
"Your subconscious is drab," Blackwings claims.
"It is not," Tasha insists. She feels like she must have an interesting subconscious, what with all she's done. This offends her a lot more than she expected it would, and so she just grumbles as she closes the book, pushing herself to think on what else she needs before she ends up with a cursedly 'interesting' inner world.
If she can see what truths remain hidden, then she must need a means to find her foe. If the manner to find them is the same as the first spell, the strange not-map, then she expects she'll see the same page -- and so she opens the book to find out.
Monsters. But they each have their own page, and they aren't conveniently labeled.. and then she finds a page without text, or depth, but it does have a picture of a dark sphere with white patterns on it.
"Is this.. a prison?" Tasha eyes the sphere; the page isn't very descriptive. Is this what she's looking for? It's not the same as the first spell, so she assumes it's not the same, but she can't be sure. Uncertainty seems to be the nature of the book, answers without assurances, or perhaps clear answers beyond the sight of someone like her. She tries to coax the serpent forward, maybe the spell has some insights. She fishes the copied signs out and puts them down behind her where she can't see them and they're not on her person.
Nothing. Compared to the other pages, this one seems dead.
"What is this?" Tasha grabs the copies and puts them away, then focuses on the sphere. The dead sphere. Maybe the spell is lost, or who it was once tied to is gone?
The book isn't responsive to the thought.. because the sense of whatever was there now being gone or inaccessible.
"I think this must be them -- the Ogdoad. This is their prison." Tasha changes thrusts then, she focuses not on her target but on the magic that makes the book aware of the sphere. In this way perhaps she can retain a sense of this accessibility, this maybe-prison. If the book can trace back to it, maybe she can use that or at least remain aware of the state of things.
Still nothing. It's like the book isn't aware of the page any longer.
Tasha finds this result interesting even if it isn't useful. Whatever keeps the book from being aware of the page, it's powerful and apparently absolute -- so much so not even an indirect effort to absorb how the book is aware of it works. Or, as it seems to be, not aware of it. She closes the book.
What else could she needs? She has sight, she has travel, she cannot acquire a map. Could there be anything she's forgotten?
Oh.
Of course.
Tasha opens the book again and focuses on the means to an effort: How she may extract the Shadow -- any any such vile influence -- from a soul. The means to cleanse a soul.
The book opens to another dead page, this time the monster looks like a squat, toad-like entity. But Tasha's seen it before, in the temple on Praxafallopus: T'thogga-hem.
"So much for that.." It's disheartening, but the means is gone. And even if it weren't, the means T'thogga-hem used is as bad if not worse than the disease. Perhaps looking for purity in a book such as this is a mistake, but she had to at least try.
Tasha's next search is more precise: She needs the means by which to invade a demon a pull from it the souls it contains, be they complete or merely fragments. If she's to find what remains of Kainudy's loved ones she'll need extraordinary methods. The key may be the method of traversal -- now she needs the means to tear the pieces from the being that absorbed them. She knows Shadow-beings and others like them are universes unto themselves, and universes may touch others, times, places, realities. First she will try to recover the pieces, if that is not enough, she will try tearing through the demon to the other side, the moment its universe touched theirs.
Time, as Tasha knows now, doesn't have to be linear and death doesn't need to mean the end. Like a vast see of spheres, bubbles in an infinite ocean, realities touch. She can find the target, she may have the gate, now she needs a method to cross that impossible gulf and tear back what was stolen, or to step before it and end it before it began.
The book stops on a page with what looks like a sword, but with a shape that seems to waver. The text is very shifty, as it trying encode a lot of information into a single page.
Tasha waits. She never expected to encounter the pan-universal equivalent to 'please wait', but here it is. Even legendary books of demonic lore have their limits. The first was that which is entrapped or dead, the second is raw information.
Tasha suspects this one might hurt a bit more than the first.
With more focus, Tasha feels a coldness, and sees.. stars. A field of stars with an empty space, until the object blocking them turns and light glints off of a shape that might be a black crystal, but larger. Larger than a sword, certainly.
Tasha leans in, she's not sure what to make of a black crystal that might have been a sword, and one in space no less. The object appears to be in actual space, too, unless it's just a coincidence. She focuses harder; there must be more.
The spell hiding in the back of her mind.. changes. It's slight. "It just ate something, I think," Blackwings reports. "It got bigger."
"I think it can process what we can't, something was in or about that crystal not-sword," Tasha suggests, not entirely knowing what happened or even what she's looking at. This is a common problem with th book, but this time ti feels somehow more mysterious for seeming slightly familiar. Stars. And, something. Somewhere? Is it there, some place, some time, or just the idea of a place? A thing?
Would Hastur have given her a map? If so it would be to places that serve His purposes, but maybe it can also take on other locations.
Other locations. Tasha wonders. Where, then, is this place? Why is there a sword-like crystal hanging in the void, and what brought ti to be there? Or was it always there?
Whatever the answer, she doesn't think she'll find it here.
Was there anything else?
There is one thing. The Null offered one way, but what if she were to save him? If she brought him forth, what, then?
How would she slay a god? Gods? The Null would annihilate them, beyond and beyond. It could destabilize the multiverse; it could be as if they never were.
O book, how does one slay a pantheon of gods?
The book opens on an ominous image: Hastur's sign. Which shouldn't affect gods directly. The page is quiescent though, but the symbol is the same size as the one on the yellow marker.
"So.. You do want them gone." If the Sign is not enough, then perhaps it is Hastur that knows, some trick of eternity, knowledge beyond even this book. She focuses on the symbol but doesn't expect more than this, it feels more like a reminder or reiteration than an answer.
Tasha finds herself standing on a broken archway in Carcosa, facing the giant, yellow-cowled figure. The white mask is of fixed expression, but the eye-holes seem full of not-quite-visible motion. But it's definitely looking at Tasha.
Tasha feels like she's expected, and as she's come to understand with these things, often predicted -- and yet not. Time is not linear for beings such as Hastur, and increasingly, less so for herself as well. Maybe she's been here before, or maybe she hasn't. Maybe she had and that ceased to be, and so she comes again. It's hard to know and the answer may be lost to sands which fell in to themselves in a measure beyond time. What matters is she's here, now.
The young woman finds herself unafraid this time. There is a sense of expectation, arrival. "I'm here."
"ASK," the King in Yellow responds.
"The book lead me here. How do I slay a pantheon of gods?" It almost feels like a ritual, like the words are already known to both, but speaking them is important. It needs to have happened, for some things there is no shortcut but to be.
"STEAL THE BELIEF OF THE FAITHFUL WITH MY SIGN," Haster replies. But that may be referring to a different sort of god.
"Do you mean that of the Ogdoad, or some other god or gods?" But it is an answer, Tasha realizes. If it works for one, perhaps it works for another. If she can destroy the faith the Ogdoad carry, then perhaps they will cease to exist, or equally, the universe will cease to care that they exist, leaving entities outside of reality no connection, no way back, to turn on each other, and to forget, and to fade away.
"THE OGDOAD ARE NOT GODS," Hastur notes.
Tasha was sure they were, they are referred to as such by many entities. It may be confusion, or some muddling of a more fundamental state. Jargon, interpretation, conjecture in tone. "Then what are they, and how might they be destroyed?"
"THEY ARE FROM OUTSIDE," Hastur explains. "THEY DO NOT HAVE EXISTENCE TO DESTROY. THEY CAN ONLY BE HELD OR BANISHED."
"Beings that can't be destroyed.." Tasha contemplates that. For Hastur to refer to another being as outside is a little startling -- to be considered an outsider by beings like Hastur is to be from far beyond indeed. If she cannot destroy, then what? Their prison is failing, and to put them outside invites a return.
A prison. Or an exit.
A prison and an exit?
Or can there be more than one?
Something comes together for Tasha, and so she asks, "Can they be diminished? If one prison can hold them, what of two? Four? A thousand, a million, a billion, one for every reality in all infinity? Can they be stretched so thin, across so far, they might never return to what they were?"
"AN INTERESTING CONCEPT," Hastur says. "AN INFINITE PRISON WOULD REQUIRE INFINITE EFFORT, OR THE EFFORT OF AN INFINITE ENTITY."
"They are infinite, aren't they? Their hunger is forever, if we could harness their desires and draw them in, perhaps they would be unable to stop. Or we could turn them against each other, a trap with infinite exits, so long as one of them shows weakness to the other and is diminished. They act as a pantheon, but would they betray their own to escape? A fractal of choice, powered by their own weakness and suspicion, and by hunger. Starved, would they eat each other? Would they take each exit for a morsel, only to need another? Could they resist their hunger, and thus paralyze themselves, and if they gave in, chase an exist across all there is and may be?" Tasha tilts her head. How to destroy the infinite; smear them across all there is. They have weakness, force can overcome them. They could be pushed, directed, trapped, manipulated.
"THEIR MOTIVATIONS AND DRIVES ARE NOT SO SIMPLE," Hastur claims. "THEY ARE ONE. THEY ARE MANY. EIGHT EXTENSIONS ARE NEEDED TO INFLUENCE A UNIVERSE, SO THEY APPEAR AS EIGHT ENTITIES. BIND THOSE EIGHT, AND THEY CANNOT SIMPLY CREATE NEW EXTENSIONS."
"Then we can start with that. If we can find a way to then further draw them out, maybe we can reduce their ability to influence anything at all. I do not know if an empty universe could hold a prison, if observers need to exist so that the prison remains, but I assume the Sifra would have considered banishing the prisons to dead and sealed universes -- unless they could not," Tasha offers, head tilting the other way. "One or more may be bound to the edge of nothingness. Perhaps that means nothing to them, but for beings that might free them, it is a dire barrier. If they were put beyond it -- even if they could not be destroyed -- no being that could be destroyed could reach them. Similarly impossible locations may serve for the rest. The Beginning. Deep in the Unformed, in a place where only rejection exists. Perhaps you and your kind can find a location equally impossible, even to you."
"WHY WOULD WE DO THAT?" Hastur asks.
"Are they not your enemies? Do they not represent a hostile force?" Tasha's ears go back; she hadn't expected resistance to the idea. "Perhaps it would amuse you, to end that which is unending? Or do they provide you with nothing, threaten you with nothing?"
"WE REPRESENT OPPOSING FORCES," Hastur says. "WE DO NOT SEEK INBALANCE. WE DEFINE EACH OTHER."
"I see. The engine of creation, then. Without it all might grind to nothingness. I have seen that stasis and perfection is the same as death, so too is chaos, disorder beyond any form produces nothing but static. I suppose they are.." Tasha waggles a hand," .. all the same. Light and the Shadow. Contrast."
"Relativity. Waves," Tasha adds, remembering some lesson somewhere, some time.
"THERE ARE STILL ENTITIES WOULD COULD PERMANENTLY BANISH THE OGDOAD FROM YOUR REALITY," Hastur notes.
"ENTITIES SUCH AS YOURSELF CAN ALSO RENDER THEM IMPOTENT," the King in Yellow adds.
"That might be better." Not that Tasha doesn't enjoy the mental exercise of attempting to destroy the indestructible and actually making progress. Maybe she is a menace? "What sort of entities could banish them, and by such as me, do you mean mortals, or some subset of mortals? Hybrids?"
"PHYSICAL, LIVING BEINGS," Hastur says. "BY ELIMINATING THE OGDRU-HEM, YOU ELIMINATE THE OGDOADS ABILITY TO INFLUENCE YOUR REALITY. THOTEP, YOG-SOTHOTH AND NULL CAN AFFECT THE OGDOAD DIRECTLY ACROSS MULTIPLE REALITIES."
"Then our current plan continues to have merit." Tasha nods to this. It's good to hear their work against the Ogdru-hem can result in victory, but she descides to explore all her options in case that path becomes inaccessible for whatever reason. Two of the entities listed she suspected alraedy -- Thotep has been repeatedly stated to be panuniversal and the Null exists at the End of all things which touches everywhere, but one she doesn't know. "I do not know Yog-Sothoth."
"TIME AND SPACE, AND THEIR MANY LEVELS, ARE ASPECTS OF YOG-SOTHOTH," Hastur claims. "THE ALPHA TO THE OMEGA OF NULL."
Tasha blinks at this. Well, that does answer who or what exists at The Beginning. "We haven't met yet. Should I investigate this being through the book, or would that represent unnecessary and undesirable danger without gain?"
It then occurs to Tasha that stating she hasn't met a being that exists across all space and time is a bit short sighted. Better to say they haven't spoken to each other, at least to her knowledge. Or some other form of more obvious communication. Even for her it can be difficult to trace interactions and speculate such for beings across all realities.
"YOG-SOTHOTH IS INDIFFERENT TO LIFE, BUT THERE ARE RITUALS TO CALL UPON IT," Hastur notes. "AS THERE ARE FOR ALL OF OUR ILK."
"I see. That follows." Tasha nods. "I will remain aware of this method, though I may not use it."
"IS THAT ALL YOU WISHED TO KNOW?" Hastur asks.
"It is enough for now." Tasha is proud of her answer: she too can be vague and suggestive without entirely answering a question. Maybe all these beings are rubbing off on her on more trivial levels. And it is, after all, correct. She may wish to know more in the future, and is it all ever all she wants to know? It is enough for now.
She's then pushed out of Hastur's presence. She feels immediately dizzy, but not in a been-spun-around way. Her vision is dark, and the page she was staring at is covered in blood, which is being soaked up by the the symbol and the text. Her face feels very wet, and she's shaking.
Tasha decides that's enough reading for now. It may be unfair, but she stands by her discomfort with books. She may be considering all this because she's lost a lot of blood and she's unstable. What was she doing?
Oh, right, she needs to close the book.
And put it back. Amulet?
Put back.. exit?
That way. Some where. She'll just keep going until she finds her way, and then..?
Then she's going to collapse for a while.
Tasha has disturbing dreams, which she can't recall when she begins to wake up. It's a struggle. Her throat feels awful. So do her sinuses, and her eyes feel.. crunchy. Her ears hurt as well. She's had hangovers like this before, but not for awhile.
Tasha vaguely remembers drinking a book and it was very bad indeed. She does not really want to get up, she's just fine where she is, thank you. If she stays here long enough maybe her everything will get with the program and stop hurting, until then she feels she can wait.
"I saw you twitch," Kai says from close by. "You were bleeding from eyes and nose and ears. Not sure how much you lost. You're in our hotel suite. I have foul-tasting vegetable juice that I'm going to make you drink."
Tasha lifts one arm and rolls her hand in a 'get on with it' gesture, even if the rest of her looks like garbage that would rather just rot in the sun.
"I take that to mean: Yes Kai, use me as a meat puppet because I'm not up to it," Kai says. "If that is what you mean, just lay there."
Tasha grabs her own head, pulls herself up to sit, rolls, over, then opens her mouth and points in it. She's been used enough lately, and she can sleep after she has soup.
The juice is very spicy and burns going down. She's never had such an empty stomach before. She swears she hears an echo when she swallows, or her inner ears hurt for other reasons.
Tasha is distantly amazed of how much punishment she can absorb and still keep going. She is a kind of punching bag that marches on. Maybe she's just fishing for metaphors because everything hurts. It's distracting, anyway, and it helps her drink the soup -- which she decides she better do because she might end up dead if she doesn't. Again.
"So what have you been up to?" Kai asks, as if Tasha's vocal-chords could actually function. "I got us a hotel suite, by the way."
And so Tasha pulls out some scrap paper she didn't use to copy the sign. Her hand feels unsteady, so she just doodles a herself (drawn as a wedge-headed stick figure with stick wings) holding a book while a dragon (basically a noodle with a big wedge head with a brain), then there's a bunch of stars, moons, and magic wands around her, then the book is biting her face, then she's on a bed with stick figure Kai going 'bla bla bla' at her.
"Ah, so you found what you needed at the library then?" Kai asks after interpreting the scrawl.
Kai is rewarded with a thumbs up followed by one more Tasha drawing, except all the stars, moons, and wands are in her head and she's holding a key and black sword for some reason.
"Cosmic hangover," Kai interprets. "Was it a silver key?"
Tasha sketches a door, the door has a question mark along with a bunch of worlds and stars in the threshold.
"Yeah, so.. you don't know what it unlocks I'm guessing?" Kai.. guesses.
Tasha responds by doodling a bunch of smaller doors on many different worlds, except the worlds are small and there's a door on them and and some ahve smiley faces where otehrs are very frowney. Next to this is wedge-Tasha stepping through a gateway with keyin hand. 'Silver' is written next to it.
"Do you have the key with you?" Kai asks.
Tasha pokes the side of her head; it's in there.
"A dream key, then," Kai suggests. "Passage to the Dreamlands and beyond."
Tasha shrugs her shoulders and her hands. For someone who talks a lot she's also very expressive in doodle and gesture.
"I'm not sure how useful that will be, but the Dreamlands have a lot of layers to them," Kai notes, and purses her lips. "Anything else worth noting?"
Tasha rummages in her jacket then pulls out a neatly folded sketch. She pushes this to the table, smooths it out, then draws a number of swords, daggers, and books all in proximity to a meticulous rubbing at the center -- the Elder Sign. The assorted items all have frowny faces and laid back ears.
Kai frowns at the sketch. "I can't make out the dark spot in the center," she admits. "It's a source of anxiety though for cursed artifacts?"
Tasha nods, then finally rolls over and sits up. She rubs her face, then tries to open her eyes. "The Elder Sign. You may not be able to perceive it. Even the spell I'm carrying doesn't like it."
"Interesting," Kai admits. "A symbol of warding perhaps." She's still frowning, perhaps not liking the notion that there are things she can't perceive. "Do you need to follow up on anything?"
Tasha blinks a few times. She wasn't sure she would even be able to see. "I think we got what we came for. I was also able to make progress on finding a way to help Kainudy, especially her child and mate. There's something out there in space -- maybe my space and maybe some other -- that we should find. I have a map. Whatever it is, the book thinks it can extract souls from demons, maybe even invade in and through them."
"Going to use it on Samael?" Kai asks, canting her head to one side but keeping her expression neutral.
"No, I'm going to find the demon that attacked your world and rip the souls right back out of it. And if I can't do that I'm going to step through it to the moment it did what it did, and deal with things from the far end. I will use it to recover what has been taken. After that, who knows?" Tasha turns and looks at Kai; her eyes are bloodshot, but not bloody. "Why, should I use it on Samael?"
Kai blinks at Tasha, and says, "To see if it works, obviously."
"Hmm," goes Tasha, who frowns. "Maybe. We'll decide that after we have whatever it is. It looked like it could be enormous and we don't know where it is, we just have a path. We could go try and reach it now, but unless the exit leads inside or I can reach from a doorway and grab it, we may need some better preperation."
"For the time being, I'm deactivating the communication functions of your ansible," Kai explains. "Until we can be sure the spell or whatever it is can't access it."
"I was just thinking that might be best. I don't want to share my memories right now, either. That might cause a similar problem." Tasha pushes herself out of bed, stretches, then stands up. "We can probably leave whenever."
"Alright, I'll settle up with the desk clerk then," Kai says. "Then we can pick up some provisions."
Tasha looks around, then picks up her pack and starts strapping it on. "I'll meet you.. I don't know where we are. I'll just follow you down once I'm ready. Wait a moment."
If Tasha knows anything it's how to travel, and traveling means packing, so she's ready with uncharacteristic speed and efficiency. "Okay, lets go."
It isn't clear how Kai settles the bill, as no words are exchanged with the attendant behind the desk, who takes the offered key and hangs it back up on the board behind him. Kai is walking away before the clerk finishes this task. Wulfgaar doesn't comment on it, either, as they leave the hotel. It appears to be in the Chest part of the city.
"A nicer part of town, then," Tasha remarks of their location. She'd have liked to have stayed longer but she's not on a vacation and people are waiting for her. "I did want to see this black sun before we leave, too bad. Well. Lets head back home then."
"Oh, you'll get a chance to see it," Kai says as they head off the main road towards a market. "We're not going back the same way we came."
"You mean you don't want to rode the Hell Train again and risk being dumped in to the garbage heap of pure evil?" Tasha certainly doesn't want to, she's not sure what she's carrying and her slow decay in to becoming something awful won't get her a free one way ticket to the afterlife -- while still alive. "So what's this other way?"
"We head out until we're past the god's influence on the land," Kai says. "Then I can try to open a portal."
"Then I guess we're walking again." Tasha looks around one more time trying to memorize this city of dragons that feels both familiar and alien all at once. She might have liked to live here, and she wonders if she'll ever return. "Out the gate, then?"
"The Tail is the way out," Kai says while nodding. "We can try to get a dragon to carry us if you want, though."
"I think dragons have carried me enough lately." Tasha starts walking; she may not know the exact way but she does know the city leads people to where they want to go, and being what it is finding your way can be done by following the shape of things. "Out we go."
After picking up some provisions, they make their back out of the city, and along the desert road. "You've had the most contact with Almaerifuhlon, Tasha," Kai notes. "You should be able to tell when we're past his influence, since we can't expect any encounters or quizzes when we're leaving."
"I'll see what my feelings tell me." And so Tasha devotes some of her attention to trying to sense the ineffable energies and influence of a deific being. She's not exactly sure what to expect, but she figures she'll know it when she feels, sees, hears, or otherwise senses it. "We only met briefly. He was mostly curious about Thoth."
"Thoth has a reputation," Kai notes without emphasis, just a statement of fact. "Archetypes can be known before they've even manifested."
"Hard to get rid of, too," Wulfgaar adds. "Keep coming back."
"They live on in everyone's collective mind, so maybe we're the reason they keep coming back?" Tasha shrugs her shoulders. "He even wanted me to become the next Hermes."
"The go-between for mortals and gods?" Kai asks, and shakes her head. "I'd hold out for Ratatoskr, if I were you. More fun."
"I don't know that one. I do know a few others, though, that seems more fun. Also Hermes is traditionally male and while that's fun sometimes I don't want it to be people's default expectation." Tasha keeps marching along, trying to take in the sights while she can still see them. "Maybe I should review a list or something."
"Ratatoskr is a squirrel that ferries messages between the eagle at the top of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and the Nidhogger, the dragon chewed on the roots of the tree," Kai explains. "She alters the messages to mess with the two entities."
"I do like the 'mess with everyone' aspect." Tasha's tail wags a little. "I'll keep that one on the list, although I'm not sure I want to be a giant squirrel. I might lose my wolf credentials entirely."
"If you say so.. Rust-Puppy," Kai teases, and then skips ahead.
"At least that comes with puppy," Tasha insists, indignantly. She does not try and swat Kai but she does eye her like she's thinking about it. "And I was younger then."
"How old are you now?" Wulfgaar asks Tasha.
"Do you count being reborn as a restart or not," Tasha clarifies.
"Hmmm. No," Wulgaar decides. "That happens in a lot of religions."
"Then abouuuuuut, oh, twenty to twenty one," Tasha replies, nodding slowly. "It's hard to tell when you tarvel between timelines, exist outside of time, and generally don't follow a strictly linear temporal existence."
"So younger means.. a year ago?" Wulfgaar asks.
"Like, two, tops," Taaha confirms, nodding. "I actually look younger than I did back then due to the aforementioned dying and being reassembled."
"Yeah, you're very young," Wulfgaar says. "I am seventy-seven. An auspicious age."
"You're young too. Kai is like a million. My mate is four-thousand-something. My other mate is twenty three. I think Hakeber's my age or close to it. Age doesn't really measure maturity. An ancient civilization told me there's age and then there's experience," Tasha relates.
"I'm not that old," Kai claims.
"Half million," Tasha clarifies, then it's her turn to step away. "Anyway, I've had a very busy three years."
"Being busy is good," Wulfgaar claims. "Keeps you out of trouble."
"I spent a thousand years in a closet, so that shouldn't count," Kai argues.
"I feel like the opposite has happened with me," the red woman admits. "I'm a little worried about the future. It feels like I'm getting whittled down and increasingly corrupted the longer I do this."
"Bathe in ice-cold water," is Wulfgaar's advice. "And eat lots of vegetables for fiber."
"Not.. like that," Tasha insists, frowning. "Maybe I should talk to someone, though. That kitsune woman worked for a benevolent god, maybe she has some ideas. Unless we're not going back that way?" She looks to Kai for confirmation.
"Do you want to return there?" Kai asks. "It depends on how far I can reach."
"It does run the risk the dragon god there might detect what I have, but he didn't dump us in hell the first time so he probably won't the second time, especially since we're going there for help. So, yeah, lets try it." Tasha nods, then looks around. "Well there's the gate, it's sand time."
The sun still hangs in the center of the sky, as it has all along. They follow their old path, until Tasha does feel something changing. The god's presence isn't oppressive, but it still feels like something shedding from her wings like water as they go. Alternately, the other presence in her mind begins to feel heavier.
"I'm feelin' it," Tasha alerts the others. "We're moving out of range,shouldn't be far now. Oddly, I can feel both of you more now, which is weird, because I couldn't feel either of you at all before. Well, except you Kai, and only sometimes."
"We'll set up camp soon then," Kai notes, and turns off the path and into the desert. "Away from the path. We don't want to have any pilgrims trip over us."
"Aww, but we could have asked them questions and made up obnoxious riddles," Tasha mock-complains as she follows Kai out in to the dunes. As she does she tries to focus her, well, focus on Wulfgar, to see if his presence in her mind means anything or is just a fading side effect from the influence of a god.
Wulfgaar seems less a presence than the goose, which stares at Tasha, insomuch as a goose can stare. It's head is pointed her way, at least.
Tasha stops to frown at the goose, focusing more. "You're not what you seem, are you?"
Shin-Breaker honks, then starts preening it's chest feathers.
"Hmm," goes Tasha, who studies the bird a moment, then starts walking again. "Curious." She has no idea why the bird has more of a presence than the man, unless the bird is smarter, which seems possible beyond simple avian favoritism.
"Don't mind animals," Kai tells Tasha. "They're probably reacting to the thing in your mind."
"Ankle-Biter seems to think it's really neat," Tasha remarks of animals sensing her. "Maybe it's not about presence but focus. The more something is paying attention to me, the more I can feel it? Blackwings says the spell does two things: act as a map and see the hidden ugliness in.. well, things. People? Everything?"
"Hidden ugliness?" Kai asks. "So long as you don't see it. Of course, I don't hide things, so should be safe."
"Oh, of course." Tasha thinks for a moment, then notes, "I think Blackwings sees them instead. I didn't feel anything other than ill. I think the soul-fragment acts as a filter, like the End Wolf is a filter for my terminal despair."
"Has she been talking to you since you woke up?" Kai asks.
"Yes, she said she felt cold after I received the spell. That she saw that she was really dead. then it abated when we saw the Sign," Tasha relates, nodding. "She also grabbed the Key, so she's not that badly off."
Kai stops. "This is a good spot," she says of the sandy patch amidst a sea of sand. "Nice and flat."
"Flat is good." Tasha pulls off her back and puts it on the ground, then walks over to Wulgar to help him with the tent. "Kind of reminds me of Sinai, really. The desert near Abu Dabi, not that we camped in it. When I flew over it I camped in the mountains North North East of the desert."
"Most deserts seem the same to me," Wulfgaar notes. "No wood for a fire."
"Glass is nice but it's hard to do anything with at this level," Tasha agrees. She sets up the tent, then unrolls her sleeping bag in a corner. "Do we need to set up watch just outside the dragon's domain?"
"Kai is just standing there," the man notes, "but we can take turns watching."
Tasha turns to look at Kai. "Ah.. Yes I suppose we could. Maybe she's sensing portal-telemetry?"
"Who knows?" Wulgaar says. "Have you seen her do this before?"
"Stand around and do nothing? It was her favorite hobby when we first met. Anyway lets just set up and let her do her thing, and if there's a problem we can try to help." Tasha rolls out the bed roll, then flattens it, before grabbing the pot. "Meat rations are better with some water and heated."
"I can provide some heat but not fire," Wulgaar says. "I'll need a pan to put under the pot though." He also hands Tasha one of the water skins they filled in the city.
"Lucky for you I have high tech fire sticks." Tasha pulls out a silvery stick-like object, then jams it in the sand. She then sets up the pot atop this, fills it with water, then after making sure the stick remains upright removes it, snaps off the tip, and puts it back. A few seconds later it begins to burn like a very bright candle, and it's quite hot. "These can be used as flare markers or for fire. I have no idea how they work, but they're included in Terran wilderness kits from where I'm from."
"Magic then," Wulfgaar says, but doesn't seem alarmed. He takes out some of his own rations, which include dried noodles and spices.
Tasha drops in some of her own which are mainly meat with a side of meat. "And soon we'll have stew!"
The stew is ready quickly, and Wulfgaar has some bread to share (after the the goose gets her chunk, to avoid problems). Afterwards, the man excuses himself to answer the call of nature, leaving Tasha and the goose alone together.
And so Tasha sips her soup, looking at the goose. She's eating, and eating meat, so she doesn't think about eating the goose, but she would probably admit that'd be more trouble than it's worth to try even if the goose wasn't Wulfgaar's pet. "Enjoying your bread?"
The goose plucks up another chunk of bread, and then stares at Tasha again and makes a noise that is very guttural, like an avian growl.
"Fine, no talking. One more being mad at me for doing what I need to do. You and that Phin would get along." Tasha scoots so that she's turned away, but keeps the goose in the corner of her eye.
The goose spreads her wings and hisses at Tasha when she turns away, but then settles back down and tucks her head under one wing.
Tasha wonders why she bothers some times. If not for Mariel, Gabriel, Katie and the others, part of her might give a big shrug to the destruction of her universe; she wonders if she could somehow save the universe and get rid of the people she'd rather get rid of, but decides it's probably immensely complex and fraught with hidden perils. And, maybe she's just tired. The book took a lot out of her. At least she knows to avoid animals now.
Wulfgaar returns, and reports, "The sky has changed."
"Black sun time?" Tasha puts her bowl down. She had been done with it long ago, she'd been simply staring at her reflection feeling down. "On my way." She puts the bowl aside and heads out.
The sky has indeed changed. The sun is still bright, after a fashion. The disk and the rays it throws off are black, but still hard to look at. The sky itself is like a swirling mass of oil on water, colorful and translucent - a bit like the dragon god's aurora form. The patterns in it look a bit like dragons, each a different color as they swirl around the sun, but farther out they become more distorted until they're just smears of color. The dark sun makes Tasha think of a reptilian eye for some reason.
"No hungry stars save one," Wulfgaar comments.
"It's kind of pretty," Tasha remarks of the black lit sky, then she glances to Wulfgaar and asks, "Which one's hungry?"
The man points to the only one visible; the black sun. "It doesn't have teeth like others do. You don't want to be eaten by the stars, because then you're gone and never existed. But that's a legend. Hard to believe it, since nobody would ever remember someone that got eaten."
"It's what some beings do. The ones I fight against. But I wonder, if the life that opposed me were all eaten, would I even remember they were bad? Maybe Persephone's right, maybe an empty universe is preferable. I don't know," Tasha admits. "Also your goose hates me more than before."
"She hates everyone," Wulfgaar claims. "It is the nature of geese."
"Sometimes, I think I get it." Tasha nods a little. "Without a few people -- if I'd never met them -- I might hate everyone, too. That's what happened to Blackwings. Nice little girl gets abused and used, never meets anyone who shows her more, becomes just as bad, then suffers forever. If my universe had a god, I'd probably want to kill it."
"Gotta know how to treat with gods," Wulfgaar says. "I recommend an iron sword." Before he even finishes that statement, the sky changes again. It's black, with stars, and two small silvery moons.
"Going to rest now," Kai claims. "We're where the portal from Sarnath brought us, in the Platinum Dragon's realm."
"That was both very sudden and slower than I expected," Tasha remarks, but she nods towards the tent fro Kai to get some sleep. To Wulfgaar she notes, "Looks like we're only a few hours from the city again. We could just pack up and go, if you carry Kai I can carry some of your load."
"Probably better to travel by night," the man agrees. "Cooler. So, is she a sorceress or a demon, or something else?"
"She's like a familiar or a golem, a being created to serve another's wishes and made from a piece of them, but she's also independent." Tasha begins packing up again, same efficiency. "But she knows a lot of things, so she can seem like a sorceress or a demon. Maybe she's a bit like both."
Moving the unconscious woman out of the tent so it can be broken down, Wulfgaar asks, "Dangerous as she seems?"
"Oh, definitely. Kai and I are both more dangerous than we seem, though Kai has me beat. Her sister is probably even worse, but she's afraid of everything so she seems gentler than both of us." Tasha finishes up, carrying Wulgaar's extras in her hands. "Isn't it strange how all the efforts to deal with the evils of the world create more evils and more powers like Kai and myself? I thought it was until I learned reality's just made up of an uncaring god, a malicious god, and a relatively recent kind god. The god of life doesn't care, the god movement is malicious, and the god of the end is sad and, well, the end."
"I would worry about a happy god," Wulfgaar says, carrying Kai on his back.
"I don't think any of them are happy. The god of life seems neutral. The god of motion is, well, they're all hard to read." Tasha shrugs, but then almost drops her things and stops. "Maybe I'll think about it all after I've banished the hungry gods from my universe, assuming I still belong in my universe."
"Make sure the gods on your side are stronger then," Wulfgaar advises.
"I hope so. Some of them are as bad as the ones I fought, though. I worry about that." Tasha heaves a sigh. "But what can you do? I'm sure someone will say, but Tasha, why didn't you do it all better, go to the right gods, do it all correctly? And I'd answer, with what, my gross lack of education? My sheer luck? I didn't even know some of these things until after I'd sided with deities. My own creator god didn't bother to warn me about one of them."
"Gods can be fickle, even the good ones," Wulfgaar says. "They don't usually get along with eachother, so not surprised that you weren't warned."
"It makes me wonder where to go from here, and what to build, if that's all there is forevermore. I get rid of one gods then there's the others. Well, one thing at a time." Tasha keeps walking.