#Lore24 – Entry #215 – Helica Month #3 –Within the Shrine of Saghirah

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

Though many would call me mad for daring to stay in Grad Artanais for as long as I did, especially alone, in the end, my faith in the knowledge I had uncovered to that point would prove to be well placed.  It took some time to work my way through the shrine complex, for it was in a sorry state by this time, though I was confident that I would not be molested by the roaming demons in this place.  The ethereal calmness that permeates the temples to the Amaranths still lingered here, and without the Transgressor’s presence, the demons would not dare to approach these divinely protected places.

At last, I found Saghirah’s shrine, still mostly well preserved, ancient streamers covered in prayers to the Amaranth still hanging from the ceiling and blowing in the cool breeze that permeated the structure.  Her stone visage loomed large above me, the image of a large, winged feline, sitting imperiously with head held high, wings spread wide and angled back, regaled in armor that, in spite of the ravages of time, still held some semblance of their golden sheen.  Though I doubt there has been anyone to visit this place in centuries, I still felt the gaze of the Amaranth upon me the moment I came before her image, and I knew then that she was there, watching me.

I immediately dropped into the reverence position, offering my praise to Saghirah, explaining why I had ventured into this place, begging her aid.  I could feel her gaze weighing heavily upon me, the sense that I was but a mouse before a great predator that could strike me down at any moment.  There is little else that I could do then, for I was suddenly stricken by the fear that perhaps what I sought had been hidden by the Amaranth herself, not the Church, and that to court her for this forbidden knowledge was to invite death itself.

There was a shift in the ambiance of the shrine then, for the cool, damp air, like that of a tomb, that I had experienced since my arrival suddenly vanished, replaced in what sounded like a deep, sighing breath from the visage of the Amaranth herself by heat and dryness, not unlike the heat of a desert.  As I dared to look up, I swore I saw a gleam in the eye of Saghirah’s statue, and then the warm blast of air shifted, stirring the ancient streamers, drawing my eye beyond the visage to a doorway partially hidden by rubble. 

Taking this as a blessing from the mighty Saghirah, I rose and ventured forth, finding signs that this doorway was once hidden.  Beyond were stairs leading downward, and soon I was within an even more ancient place, still heavy with the presence of Saghirah, this chamber filled with fine sand and circled by half a dozen stone plinths, each bearing smaller images of Saghirah, half similar to those of the larger image above, the other half that of an unearthly humanoid woman, adorned in armor similar to what her bestial form wore, her head hidden behind a great feline mask.  In the center of this chamber was an altar, and upon this altar, still appearing pristine, was a scroll case.