Tzipora and Anak sped across a barren plain on the back of the vulpetir, which Tzipora had dubbed Rimanqu. She had been steadily feeding the once starved creature as they traveled, and his form had thickened out healthily over the course of the journey. Rimanqu's speed continuously improved as he strengthened, and he now galloped at nearly 100 kilometers per hour, adamantine claws tearing out chunks of dirt and rock along the way. Rimanqu glanced up happily at Tzipora, who was standing on his broad shoulders and holding his tall antlers for support, with his tongue wagging in the wind.
This plain had no name, but with the still, dark clouds hovering silently above, and the lifeless dirt filled with nothing but rocks and burrowing predators beneath, being nameless suited it. The atmosphere was eerily still other than the wind caused by the sprinting vulpetir. Tzipora tugged slightly on an antler, and Rimanqu shifted course to the left by a few degrees.
Anak held tightly to the thick fur on Rimanqu's back, as he slightly swayed with the turn, laughing at feeling of inertia.
"We're getting close!" Tzipora called behind her through the wind. Anak nodded, as he kept his eyes peeled for anything that looked like a place people once lived. He searched to no avail, as the wasteland stretched endlessly before his watchful stare. They crested up a slight curve in the plain that could barely be called a hill before coming to a stop.
"Why are we stopping? Is something wrong?" Anak asked as he warily scanned the surroundings. Had their mount detected some predator below the surface?
"No, this is where we dismount." Tzipora clarified, before leaping to the ground from her perch.
"What? Here?" Anak dropped down after her, taking note of the same famished, uninhabitable soil as the rest of the surrounding dark desertscape. "How did your people survive here?"
Tzipora sighed heavily, and sorrow bled through her voice as she answered, "It wasn't always like this you know? It used to be green, and lush, and beautiful..." Tzipora was unable to continue. Tears streaming down her face she recalled the former landscape of her tribe. Even before the downfall of Vinetum, and the rise of the signature dark clouds of the Demon King, the tribe of Medith had tended this land that was abundant with plant-life.
They had buildings made of simple materials like stone or wood, but they had smart and creative architects that made them sturdy and appealing. Their road-less community was always filled with the raucous chatter of bartering tradesmen and shouting children as they ran about on the grass. Everyone would happily greet her, and they all looked respectfully towards her father.
Anak embraced the mourning Tzipora from behind, "Do you want to tell me about it?" He whispered.
Tzipora started to shake her head, but paused and slowly nodded. "You remember what you told me about the revelations? That they were designed for battle with demons and stars?" Anak nodded slowly as he listened carefully, and Tzipora continued, "What do you think happens to a human settlement when they're the targets?"
Anak shuddered as he thought back on all the destructive methods in the Book of War that he knew deeply. There were also weapon designs in the Manual of Divine Weaponry that he would never dream of aiming at even the Demon King for fear of their mass destructive power, let alone at people.
Tzipora's story poured out of her like a crack had opened in the dam that was her tongue and she couldn't hold it back anymore. "We didn't even know we were being attacked by people. It was like divine wrath. I was happily reading a scroll of funny poems, when from nowhere red lightning came at us like a flurry of swords. Everywhere I looked, people were being struck and killed. It didn't burn them it... It cut them. Blood was everywhere and I just shut my eyes and screamed. I wasn't even 10 years old yet." Tzipora fell silent and let her tears fall as she re-lived the tragic scene.
Anak held his breathe. He knew this weapon. It was from the Manual of Divine Weaponry, a demon-slaying weapon called Fulguis. If it were Fulguis as described in the manual, and later forged for a star named Azrael, Vinetum's crust would've exploded outward on this part of the planet. It was obviously just a poor imitation, but it was still horrifically destructive.
"I heard a sound like echoing thunder, and when I next opened my eyes was when I was being picked up by my father, running from the horde of Gel-ad's armies that had suddenly charged at us. We never would've stood a chance even if he just led with that force, but I guess he enjoys his toys." Tzipora spat out bitterly.
"When they charged at us, some warriors that survived the attack stood in the way trying to buy us time, but beams of red light pierced their bodies like stingers of fire. They fell dead in barely a second, and my father had been stung on the leg. Gel-ad rode to the front laughing at our fallen and he held a scepter shimmering with red light on its sharp head." Rage crept into Tzipora's eyes. "After we were captured, he made us watch as he used the other end of his scepter to send a wave of fire over our home and everyone left in it. It left nothing behind." Looking around at the wasteland she concluded, "I guess it spread."
Anak silently squeezed Tzipora comfortingly. Even he didn't know what that scepter was that the king had. Probably something cooked up by the Magus' Council. Or maybe even Azazel. Anak's eyes narrowed. All of them had a lot to answer for. They stood together in the silent air, allowing themselves to grieve for a moment; for Tzipora's fallen people, for the atrocious actions of King Gel-ad and his retinue, for the world as it was under the reign of the Demon King.
"How do you know we're in the right place?" Anak asked softly after some time.
Tzipora merely pointed beneath their feet, while using her sandal to wipe away scattered dust. A large rock sat embedded firmly in the ground, with what appeared to be foreign letters carved on its surface.
Having drawn his attention to the carved stone, Tzipora pulled out of Anak's arms and knelt, wiping away the dust completely to reveal the full message. "This isn't a place I'd forget."
"Can you read this?" Anak asked, completely stumped by the strange letters. He felt a strange sense of warmth and familiarity emitting from the carving, but he wasn't literate in its script at all.
Tzipora shrugged. "Only a few bits and pieces. My father was the real wise one, but he read it to me once. He said it was the language of the stars." She gazed deeply at Anak. This was the reason she brought him here. With his lineage, and especially with the words of Azazel, he needed to see this.
"What does it say?" Anak asked quietly, anxious to know but hesitant to find out.
Tzipora shook her head with a small smile, "It's not what you're thinking. It just says, 'Praise unto the Most High, creator of the world. Praise unto the God of Life, of Love, and of Creation.'" She smiled at Anak's confused expression. "I didn't bring you here just to re-affirm your faith, or something." She joked.
"Then why?" Anak asked expectantly.
Tzipora took a deep breathe, "In the tribe, only my father could do it, but I think you'll be capable. Put your hand just over the center of the stone." She instructed vaguely as she stepped to the side.
Anak just did as she said, trusting her completely. As his hand drew near the carvings, the air seemed to tremor between his palm and the stone. The letters glowed blue, and the stone split open vertically at the center, swinging open like a doorway.
"I knew it!" Tzipora applauded joyously. "Come on, let's go!" She ran past Anak and leapt directly into the opening he revealed. Anak stared dumbly into the lightless passage beneath his feet for a moment, before slapping himself. Tzipora was down there. What right did he have to stay up here?
Anak followed, jumping down into the dark hole. After a short drop, he landed in a dusty room lined with stone walls, lit by glowing blue letters carved into the walls in the same script as the stone at the entrance. Tzipora was waiting for him by a particular wall and she waved at him to come over. Anak slowly walked her way as he took in the scenery.
"My father called this place a holy ground. and a safe haven. In the event of a disaster, it was meant to shelter the tribe." Tzipora explained. "From time to time, we'd also hold ceremonies of praise, similar to the Emuri you went to, but with a special Medith twist." She smiled bitter-sweetly as she recalled those days. "However, its also a kind of maze. There were always parts of this labyrinth my father couldn't access. I think, with your lineage, you could. There might be some truths within that can help."
Anak's brows raised at the word 'truths.' It sounded similar to what the voice had told him. He was sure this was what he was supposed to do. "Thank you, Tzipora." He smiled at her, a trace of anxiousness in his eyes. He didn't know what truths he'd find, but, at least according to the voice, it wasn't what Azazel told him. That was good enough.
Suddenly, a raspy voice echoed out from a dark corner of the room.
"Tzipora?"
"Who's there?!" Tzipora called out in alarm.
"My sweet daughter... have you forgotten me already?" The voice gently sobbed.
Tzipora froze as she stared into the dark corner the voice originated from, as a hazy, blue-glowing figure emerged in the shape of a middle-aged woman. "I've missed you, love."