#Lore24 – Entry #218 – Helica Month #6 – The Terror of the Transgressor

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Perhaps it was some cruel twist of fate that the Tranquility would end in the weeks it took me to journey from sacred Temismere Peak through to the grand port city of San Granalle, or perhaps it was some quirk of Saghirah’s will that the timing worked out in such a way.  The Amaranth had been silent since the vision in which I had stood atop her temple, but had remained ever-present, her eye upon me.  I had spent much of my journey in contemplation over what I had learned, and as I neared San Granalle, coming down the Granalle Road from the Kinarrora Highlands to the north of the city, I bore witness to the fearsome form of the Transgressor rising from the depths of the sea, the monstrous form bathed in the bloody red light of the setting sun. 

Terror filled me in that moment, for I and the others in the group I had taken up with on the outskirts of the holy city of Tyraguard were in no way prepared for what we would witness.  With a roar mighty enough to shake our bodies even miles away, the Transgressor tore into San Granalle with a terrible fury.  I simply cannot find the words to describe the shear destructive power of the Transgressor we witnessed that evening, the bloody light of the setting sun soon replaced by the light of hundreds of fires burning across the remains of San Granalle. 

The thought did enter my head as I witnessed the destruction of the Battleball arena that Saghirah had perhaps been wrong in her vision to me, for how could the Angel appear in the destroyed arena?  But then I remembered the blessing she had bestowed upon me, her revelation that my work would take many lifetimes.  How much more of the Transgressor’s destruction would I be forced to witness?  How many Tranquilities would I experience, and how many would I witness shattered with the coming of the Wicked One before the Angel came?

Could a mere mortal mind such as mine even fathom such a terrible fate without breaking?

I honestly do not have an answer to that question.

#Lore24 – Entry #217 – Helica Month #5 – Bound to the Will of Saghirah

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

As I carefully rerolled the scroll, I sensed a change in the chamber.  The air grew heavier with Saghirah’s presence, and I felt the dry heat of the desert suddenly consume the chamber.  As I looked up, I saw that the visages of the Amaranth that surrounded me were glowing with faint golden light.  In the next moment, I was suddenly far beyond the cavern below the temple in Grad Artanais, standing atop a massive, pyramidal temple in the center of a great oasis in a desert.

Sensing the Amaranth behind me, I quickly turned, going to my knees before the massive form of Saghirah herself, looming over me in all her majestic glory.  I was too stunned to speak, for I never had the capacity to become a summoner, and why I was suddenly in this vision before Saghirah, I could not fathom in those moments.

By reading the sacred scroll of Saghirah, thou hast become bound to Her will,” she said to me, her voice rumbling as thunder over the expanse of the oasis.  “Thus, thou must continue the task She has set before thee.  Seek the other scrolls, traveler of Helica, that the truth of the Transgressor be revealed, but use the greatest of subtleties in this matter; reveal not thy forbidden knowledge of Saghirah to those incapable of understanding it, to those who will destroy thee for it.  Seek those of likeminded intent, those who can see beyond the doctrine of Phyresis.  In this quest, Saghirah grants you her blessing, that time may not ravage thee, Seeker of Knowledge, for thy task will take many lifetimes to complete.  Thou will knowest thy task approaches its end when the Angel of Grad Artanais reveals herself upon the grand stage of the arena in San Granalle as a beacon of hope unto Helica, and thou will knowest she is the true Angel, a true vessel of the will of Saghirah, for She will appear alongside the Angel.  Go now, Seeker, for thy long journey has begun.

I awoke from my vision with a start, disoriented and freezing, my eyes focusing upon the night sky and the stars far above me.  As I regained my senses and got to my feet, I realized that I was no longer within the shrine, no longer in Grad Artanais at all in fact, for the ancient ruin lay far below me.  I had somehow come back to the small campsite I had occupied on the lower slopes of the sacred mountain Temismere before my journey into the holy city.  Only now I had the faintest sense of Saghirah’s presence within my mind, a sense that her ever-watchful eye was upon me, perhaps a sign of the blessing she spoke of.  Thoroughly exhausted, I started a fire and settled in for the night, my thoughts filled with a vision of where I must travel next, the island of Ukejama, far to the south.

#Lore24 – Entry #216 – Helica Month #4 – The First Scroll

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

I approached the scroll case reverently, for Saghirah’s gaze still weighed heavy above me, and I could not help but wonder if the reasons the Church had disavowed the existence of the Amaranth were in fact true, for their doctrine is absolute, and all are raised following it.  Still, I willed myself forward and gently opened the case, finding the rolled parchment inside to still be intact, and for a wonder, not as brittle as I feared; something of the Amaranth’s influence had preserved it well over the centuries. 

Always eager to absorb new knowledge, I suppressed my eagerness and carefully unrolled the scroll upon the altar, translating the ancient text easily enough through my many years of study of the world before the Wicked One’s arrival.  I committed the words of the Amaranth to memory, reading and rereading the scroll several times until I was certain not a word was out of place in my mind.  Normally I would have transcribed the words of Saghirah to my journals, but I knew instinctively that was not her wish, and with good reason.  The full contents of her scrolls will be revealed when the time is right.

What I will say of the first of the scrolls of forbidden knowledge is that the contents shook me to my very core.  Any remaining faith I’d once had in Phyresis, the One True God, fled me as I read and reread the ancient words.  At the time the scroll was created, faith in beings beyond our mere mortal existence was at an all-time low amongst all the peoples of Helica, with the Amaranths, the ancient guardian spirits of our world, becoming relegated to myth and legend by most. 

Faith, more specifically, the lack of faith by the people of Helica, would lead to the Downfall.  This was how the Transgressor had prepared our world for its arrival, by patiently seeding distractions and false beliefs amongst the people.  And when the Wicked One did come, that fateful night so many centuries ago when Grad Artanais fell, the world was simply not prepared to mount a defense, so scattered and divided was its people. 

The true nature of the Transgressor is positively vile, but no more can I say here.

#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.