The night had cloaked Kingswatch in a shroud of darkness, the heavy rain cascaded down in sheets, drumming an incessant rhythm on the cobblestone streets. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, punctuated by flashes of lightning that momentarily illuminated the winding alleys and casted eerie shadows across the weathered walls.
Despite the harsh conditions, the city's underbelly thrived in the shadows. Huddled under makeshift shelters and doorways, the homeless and less fortunate desperately tried to stay dry, their gaunt faces flickering in the intermittent glow of the lightning. Nearby, a group of night traders gathered around a flickering lantern, their hushed voices exchanging in a language of whispers as they haggled over illicit goods and contraband.
Nakaba's footsteps echoed against the cobblestones as she navigated the maze of alleys, her cloak drawn tightly around her to ward off the relentless rain. The riffraff, those who dwelled in the city's seedy underbelly, watched her with wary eyes, their gazes flickering like candlelight in the darkness.
As she approached the nondescript door, the sound of the rain seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the pounding of her heart. Two sharp knocks resounded against the worn wood, and a small opening revealed a pair of yellow eyes, glowing like embers in the night. A guttural growl emanated from within, and Nakaba uttered the password, "whispers and shadows," her voice carrying a weight of familiarity.
With a creak of hinges, the door swung open, beckoning her into the unknown depths that lie beyond, a world of secrets and whispers hidden from the prying eyes of Kingswatch's respectable citizens.
Nakaba stepped over the threshold, the door closing behind her with a dull thud, sealing off the sounds of the raging storm outside. The dim light from a few flickering torches cast dancing shadows across the cramped entryway, revealing a winding staircase that descends into the depths below.
As she made her way down the creaking steps, the damp chill of the air is replaced by a musty warmth that seems to envelop her. The faint aroma of exotic spices and something more pungent, almost sickly sweet, hangs heavily in the air, hinting at the vices that thrive in this underground sanctuary.
At the bottom of the stairs, a heavy curtain parted to reveal a sprawling chamber, the air thick with smoke and the hushed murmurs of countless conversations. Nakaba's eyes adjusted to the hazy atmosphere, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons that occupy the various nooks and alcoves.
In one corner, a group of cloaked figures huddled around a low table, their faces obscured as they murmur in hushed tones, ancient tomes and arcane artifacts scattered before them. Nearby, a trio of rough-looking mercenaries engaged in a rowdy game of dice, the clatter of bones and raucous laughter piercing the smoky haze.
Nakaba weaved her way through the maze of tables and alcoves, acknowledging the occasional nod or discreet hand gesture from those she recognized. This underground haven is a neutral ground, a place where the city's outcasts and fringe-dwellers mingled without fear of reprisal from the authorities above.
As she approached the bar, a hulking figure emerged from the shadows, their features obscured by the low light. A single eye, milky-white and scarred, regarded her impassively as they grunt a gruff greeting. Nakaba nodded in return, sliding onto a vacant stool and signaling for a drink.
In this silence sanctum, secrets are currency, and information is power. Nakaba knew that the Path Of Whispers held more weight than coin in these lands, and she was intent on trading in both as the night stretched on.
The man slid onto the stool next to Nakaba, his weathered face creased with a myriad of scars and his clothes stained with the grime of the alleys. A pungent aroma of cheap alcohol and unknown substances waft from him, causing Nakaba to wrinkle her nose slightly.
"Is she here?" Nakaba asked, her voice low and guarded.
The man eyed her skeptically, his single milky eye appraising her. "Depends what information you bring back," he rasped, leaning in closer.
Nakaba let out a soft sigh, knowing the game they must play. "His Majesty sent me to break his son Didé out of the dungeons he himself cast him into," she murmured, her words laced with a hint of disdain.
The man's brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "Risky business, that," he grunts. "But what games are His Majesty playing this time?"
Nakaba held his gaze, unflinching. "I have no idea ...yet," she says simply.
After a moment's pause, she leaned in conspiratorially. "I've also heard whispers of something called 'the lightless Dark.' Any idea what that might be?"
The man stiffens, his single eye widening slightly as his gaze darts around the smoky room. Nakaba could sense the sudden tension that grips him, and she knows she's touched upon something profound.
With a jerky motion, the man rose from his stool and gestured for Nakaba to follow him. "Not here," he muttered, his voice laced with uncharacteristic trepidation. "Come with me."
Intrigued and slightly unnerved, Nakaba slipped off her stool and followed the man as he led her through the maze of tables and alcoves, deeper into the shadowy recesses of the underground sanctuary.
They wove through a maze of narrow corridors, the damp stone walls seeming to press in from all sides. The air grew steadily thicker, heavy with the musty scent of earth and something more ...sinister. Nakaba's footsteps echoed hollowly, the sound swallowed by the pervasive silence that hung like a shroud in these passages.
The man's calloused hand rapped once against the weathered wooden door, the dull thud seeming to reverberate through the stifling silence that pervaded the subterranean chamber. There was a pause, heavy with anticipation, before the door swung open with a groan of rusted hinges.
"She is expecting you," the man rasped, his single eye gleaming in the guttering torchlight as he backed away slowly, retreating into the enveloping shadows until only the faint sound of his footfalls remained.
Nakaba stepped forward, steeling her resolve as she crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room beyond. The space was sparsely furnished, the only illumination provided by a solitary torch that cast a flickering orange glow, causing the shadows to dance furtively across the rough stone walls.
"Nakaba..."
The voice slithered forth from the darkness, low and resonant, filling the chamber with an almost palpable sense of dread. Nakaba instinctively sank to one knee as the rasping tones seemed to coil around her like a serpent's embrace.
"Revered Mother," she murmured in response, keeping her gaze respectfully lowered.
A long moment passed in tense silence before the disembodied voice spoke again. "Are you back with tidings?"
Nakaba swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes," she replied, her voice little more than a hushed rasp.
The flickering torchlight cast ominous shadows that twisted and contorted across the unseen speaker's form as they leaned forward, their features still cloaked in impenetrable darkness.
"Then speak, child," the voice commanded, an undercurrent of something sinister lacing the ragged tones. "What news do you bring from the world above?"
"His Majesty only buries himself with matters of state," Nakaba began, her words measured and cautious. "The only out of the ordinary happening is the kidnapping of the blue-eyed princess of Ajari - the crown prince's bride-to-be."
A heavy silence hung in the air, the shadows seeming to twist and undulate in the flickering torchlight as the unseen figure absorbed this information. Finally, the ragged voice slithered forth once more.
"The princess's abduction is a mere trifle," it rasped with a dismissive edge. "A pawn sacrificed to sow the seeds of conflict, nothing more. But you speak of matters of state... matters that could serve to distract the King from more... insidious threats."
Nakaba felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as the weight of those foreboding words seemed to press in upon her. She knew better than to speak out of turn, waiting instead for the entity to continue.
"Tell me, child," the voice grated, "does the King suspect our movements? Has he detected the viper that slithers through the shadows of his realm?"
Nakaba shook her head slowly. "No, revered Mother. His gaze remains focused solely on matters of court and policy. He has not sensed our presence."
There was a momentary pause before the voice responded, seeming to lean in closer. "And are you certain of this?"
"Yes," Nakaba affirmed, her tone resolute. "His eyes and ears see and hear only what we permit them to."
A low, rumbling chuckle resonated from the shrouded figure, sending a shiver down Nakaba's spine. "Good... very good."
Nakaba opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty passing across her features. The shadows seemed to shift, almost expectantly, and the voice spoke once more.
"Something weighs upon you, child. Speak freely."
Nakaba drew a steadying breath. "There is... one more thing, revered Mother. A development that may prove... concerning."
The silence that followed was suffocating, pressing in from all sides like a physical force. Finally, with obvious trepidation, Nakaba gave voice to the words that had haunted her steps from the moment she first heard them uttered.
"The Lightless Dark... has been awoken."
The shadows seemed to recoil, twisting and contorting in a way that defied logic or reason. A harsh, ragged inhalation pierced the silence, and when the voice spoke again, it carried a undercurrent of something akin to... fear.
"Impossible..." it hissed. "You are certain of this?"
"I saw it myself ...the very magnitude of its power," As the gravely whispered words "It seeks to corrupt the crown prince's mind and soul." fell from Nakaba's lips, the shadowed figure seemed to stiffen, the darkness itself taking on a solidity that was nearly palpable. Slowly, deliberately, the hooded form rose from the depths of the enshrouding gloom.
A golden, slender hand emerged first, the fingertips tracing patterns in the air as if weaving an unseen tapestry. Then, like a spirit coalescing from the ether itself, the rest of the figure followed - a wisp of black cloth that resolved itself into a tattered robe, the cowl thrown back to reveal a face obscured by a gleaming golden mask.
Nakaba felt her breath catch in her throat as those haunting yellow eyes, burning with the intensity of twin suns, bored into her. This was no mere mortal she found herself in the presence of, but rather something... other. Something ancient and terrible that straddled the realms of both the living and the dead.
"Speak..." The revered Mother's voice was little more than a dry rasp, seeming to emanate from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Tell me everything you know of this... Lightless Dark."
Nakaba swallowed hard, struggling to maintain her composure under the weight of that smoldering gaze. "The whispers filter up from the lowest dregs," she began, each word feeling as though it carried a physical weight upon her tongue. "Rumors of an entity, an ancient evil that dwells in the deepest, darkest hollows where not even starlight can reach. They say it was vanquished in the second age."
The golden mask seemed to cant slightly, as if scrutinizing her, drinking in each carefully chosen syllable. Nakaba pressed on, forcing the words out in a disjointed rush.
"They say it is a malevolent force older than the roots of the mountains themselves. A...a blight that festers and corrupts all that it touches. And now..." Here she paused, drawing a shuddering breath. "Now it has set its sights on Out-earth once more. It means to take root within the crown prince's very soul and--"
"Enough."
The rasping utterance cut through Nakaba's words like a dagger, bringing her up short. The yellow eyes within the mask seemed to blaze with unbridled fury.
"You were foolish to come to me with these... baseless fancies," the revered Mother hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Tales spun by driveling fools to fear what they cannot begin to comprehend."
One golden skeletal hand lifted, a finger extending to aim squarely at Nakaba's chest. "Find the root of this matter, then you will return to the prince," the rasping voice intoned, each word carrying the weight of an irrevocable command. "And you will embed yourself deeper into his good graces. Keep your ears peeled for any truth behind these 'whispers', but do not allow yourself to be distracted by children's ghost stories."
Nakaba felt her mouth go dry, her tongue seeming to cleave to the roof of her mouth as she struggled to respond. Before she could summon a reply, however, the hooded figure seemed to swell in stature, the darkness gathering around her like a mantle of living shadow.
"We did not claw our way to this precipice only to watch our efforts crumble now." she growled. "Our path is set, our ascension assured. No force in this world or any other shall be permitted to derail what has been set in motion."
The burning eyes pierced Nakaba one final time.
"See that you do not falter, child. There will be no second chances."
With those ominous words hanging in the air, the ancient power turned her back, the shadows swirling hungrily around her retreating form as if drinking in the lingering traces of her presence. Nakaba remained rooted to the spot, a cold tendril of dread snaking its way down her spine.
Her choices now were obedience or …oblivion.