Malaes glanced at Virumi, her usually bright eyes clouded with concern, curiosity, and something deeper—a desire to understand the depths of Virumi's pain. Despite the gravity of the moment, there was an inexplicable feeling—like standing at the edge of a precipice, with no idea how deep the fall would be.
"You guys at least know about the Amaulyans and the Shulvris, right noi?" Virumi asked, her voice measured but with an underlying tone of expectation. It was as though she needed to confirm that they knew, even though the question seemed almost rhetorical.
Yesdar replied immediately, as if the words had been pulled from his throat without hesitation. "Sure, we do."
"Yeah," Malaes chimed in, trying to gauge the atmosphere. "Amaulyans and Shulvris, the two great clans that once formed the One Royal Kingdom, but then that kingdom met its end after the Yahunyens took over."
"Right," Virumi nodded, a faint glimmer of approval in her eyes. "That will make it easier to explain things one by one."
And so, they prepared themselves. Griswa remained silent, but his gaze was intense—his multicolored eyes seemed to pierce through the veil of time itself, as if he could see the threads of the story weaving themselves in real-time. The trio leaned in, the weight of anticipation so heavy that the very air in the cave seemed to still.
Virumi took a long, steadying breath, her shoulders rising and falling as though the burden of history rested upon them. Her voice, when she began again, was soft but filled with a dark sense of certainty.
"The tale begins long before the fall, when the Amaulyans and Shulvris came together to form the One Royal Kingdom. It was a time when the land had not yet split apart, when the world was just one land and sea, noi. The Amaulyans hailed from the cold of the north. They were warriors by blood, battle was their lifeblood. They served as the iron shield of the kingdom, standing ready to defend against any threat like how anyone would expect them to be, noi."
She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to sink in.
"The Shulvris, on the other hand, came from the warm, fertile south. They weren't warriors in the same sense—no, their expertise lay in governance, in politics, in understanding power and how to wield it, noi. They were cunning, strategic, always some steps ahead. And yet, despite these differences, there was harmony between the two clans, noi. "
A faint, melancholic smile touched Virumi's lips, but it was quickly overshadowed by the looming darkness in her gaze.
"Together, they formed the kingdom of 'Shumaulya' (doesn't sound that good, I know). And so, the cultures mixed, some Shulvris were interested in becoming warriors and some of the Amaulyans were interested in becoming kings and queens and understanding law and order too, noi! In time, there were two kings and two queens, one pair from both Amaulya and Shulvri. There were both Amaulyan and Shuvrian Armies for defense too, noi. Common people could consult anyone of the clans' kings or queens or ministers whenever they wanted their help to solve the problems. There was no competition or toxicity or jealousy between the two clans like how the people would expect, to have some Game of Thrones scenario, noi. Both the clans were almost equally respected for the roles they had to play."
It was a rare picture she painted—a world where balance existed, a world where mutual respect kept the wheels of power turning smoothly. But the trio could sense the impending shift, the darkness just around the corner.
"But..." Virumi's voice dropped, and her expression darkened as if the very words she was about to speak weighed down her soul.
The trio stiffened at that single word—but—as if they had already sensed the undercurrent of despair about to crash down upon the peaceful vision she had painted.
"...the land split apart," Virumi whispered, her words like shards of broken glass, cutting through the silence. "Disaster struck without warning. Earthquakes tore the ground, tsunamis swallowed entire cities, and flames rained from the heavens.... no hells above the skies. It was as if the gods themselves had grown tired of Shumaulya's peace. millions... no, billions died in the chaos. The land was no longer whole, shattered into fragments. And in the aftermath of that devastation, something far worse emerged."
The trio's breath hitched. The cave felt colder and this time the storm outside wasn't playing the role here, the shadows themselves had crept closer to listen to what was about to happen next.
"A new clan appeared," Virumi's voice trembled slightly, the fear of that moment still lingering in her eyes. "The chaos spread that a clan of unknown origins had come to take over the world noi."
"The Amaulyans were the first to react, their warrior blood boiled at the sight of so much death and carnage of chaos, their comrades and people dying. The Amaulyan King, a man of indomitable will and pride, rallied his people noi. He refused to let his 'One' fall, refused to let the sacrifices of his soldiers be in vain noi. He believed that if they fought with everything they had, they could repel this new enemy, even in the fractured state of the land like any (simple) king would think noi."
But..." Virumi's voice cracked, her gaze hardening. "The Shulvris... they were different. Where the Amaulyans saw the blood and chaos and felt only rage, the Shulvris saw the same blood and chaos and felt fear. They feared for their survival noi, for the preservation of their own power noi, their own safety noi! The Amaulyan King made his decision to fight back and that's what he expected from the Shulvrian King too, keeping so, so, so many hopes noi. But…. The Shulvrian King betrayed the Amaulyan King….."
The words felt like venom, sinking into the trio's skin, they didn't know that this was coming.
The Amaulyans had believed that the One Royal Kingdom was 'One' for a simple and obvious reason that any fool with the lowest intelligence, any trash bitch would understand. But the Shulvrian King shattered that belief in an instant, like it never had any value from the beginning.
Yesdar clenched his fists. He could feel the heat of his anger rising. Betrayal... it was always betrayal that tore everything apart.
"The Shulvrian King declined the Amaulyan King's request of giving the Shulvrian Army that could have been the proud evidence that they had fought together. Instead he made a secret pact with the Yahunyens, hoping to save himself and his clan." Virumi felt a lot of shame as she spoke those words.
"This angered the Amaulyan King even more." Virumi continued, her voice steadier now. "He didn't wish to surrender noi, millions of martyrs from the Amaulyan Army gave their life in hope and pride to defend their 'One'. But in the end, they lost to the Yahunyen Empire.... noi. And the Amaulyans were completely wiped out from existence. They say that the Amaulyan King, even in his last breaths, broken and bleeding, was thinking only one thing noi. That is, if the Amaulyans and Shulvris had fought together, they might have won and the Yahunyen Empire wouldn't have risen to such an extent... that today even if the whole world is united, it will still be impossible to bring it down, noi."
Her words hung in the air like a funeral dirge, a requiem for a fallen kingdom. The trio sat in a moment of silence, as if they were respecting the fallen blood.
Griswa's eyes darkened as he knew blood more than anything.
Yesdar seemed to understand the price of sacrifice.
Virumi took a shaky breath, her voice softer now. "I respect one thing, that the Amaulyan King's final thoughts were not of his own failure," Virumi whispered. "Even as he lay dying, he believed that if the two clans had fought together, they could have defeated the Yahunyens. He believed that unity could have saved them all, noi."
Malaes closed her eyes, trying to make sense of it all. They always knew the history, but they never knew something this jaw-dropping, revelation after revelation.
The cave was suffocating in its silence, the weight of Virumi's words pressured on them like a heavy shroud. But there was still one question left unanswered, the one that stuck at their minds like a stubborn stain.
Why exactly was Virumi not free? How was this even connected to her? The present conditions were different, weren't they? And why did she choose to start from this history? Now those answers were to come next.
Virumi sighed, the kind of sigh that carried the weight of centuries, not just years. Her eyes darkened as she prepared to unearth the rotten core of her history. "I told you the Shulvris' politicians always thought steps ahead, didn't I noi? They saw the writing on the wall, long before anyone else did. They knew from the beginning that they'd never win against a force capable of splitting the world apart noi."
The trio remained silent, their focus sharpening. They could feel it, like a predator lurking just outside their vision—the story wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.
"The Shulvrian King made his secret pact with the Yahunyens to save his clan, to ensure the survival of his bloodline noi," Virumi continued, her tone bitter but resigned. "He led us here, to this place—Aximia. A sanctuary or a prison, depending on how you look at it noi." She let those words linger, like a knife hovering over a neck.
"But survival came with a cost," Virumi's voice dipped lower, darker. "Generations passed, and the Shulvris began to question themselves. What if they had fought alongside the Amaulyans? What if they had resisted instead of surrendering noi? The guilt crushed on them, passing down like a genopathy, from father to son, mother to daughter. It twisted inside them, until every thought echoed with the same question: Why didn't we fight? Why didn't we die with honor? WHY? WHY? WHY??!!"
Virumi's voice cracked as she spoke those words, her emotions raw and exposed. The trio could feel the anguish of countless souls bleeding through her. Her words didn't just carry a story—they carried the echoes of a people damned by their choices.
"They knew the Shulvrian King had made his decision to protect his clan noi," she continued, her tone strained, "but it didn't matter. We betraying the Amaulyans, had cursed us, a curse that would never lift, no matter how much time passed noi."
The air in the cave thickened, pressing down on them. This wasn't just a history lesson. This was the confession of a people haunted by the ghost of their ancestors' cowardice.
"The guilt grew so intense, that eventually, the King's family proposed a solution," Virumi's voice trembled with restrained rage. "A simple one noi. They divided us. The supporters of the King's decision and the opposers—split apart forever noi. The Shulvri clan fractured, tearing itself into two subclans: Mertromath and Ondra Hadrakshis."
Griswa's eyes narrowed. Even without fully understanding the intricacies, he could sense the deep fissures that ran through their society, the kind that could never be healed.
"The Mertromath," Virumi spat the name, "they were the ones who supported the King's decision. They believed in survival, in surrender. The Ondra Hadrakshis... they were the ones who opposed the King, who carried the guilt of betrayal like a festering wound. They were the ones who believed they should've fought noi."
The trio's breath stilled. They didn't need to be told that something darker lay beneath the surface. The cracks in Aximia's foundation were spreading, and they had been for centuries.
"But it didn't end there noi," Virumi continued, her voice shaking. "The Ondra Hadrakshis were given a choice. If they felt so strongly about the betrayal of Amaulya, they were free to go wage war against the Yahunyens. But... they were given nothing but useless, rusted weapons noi. It was mockery, a cruel joke. The Mertromath had no intention of letting the Ondra Hadrakshis fight for honor. Instead, they pushed them to the edge, until hatred became their only fuel noi."
"And so, they turned that hatred inward," Virumi's voice dropped, venom dripping from every word. "The Ondra Hadrakshis started killing people from the Mertromath in cold blood. One by one, the corpses piled up. And in the span of thousands of years, they killed each other until there was nothing left but ruins and bitterness. Even the wars lost their meaning noi."
Yesdar and Malaes exchanged glances. This was no longer just a history of two clans. It was a history of madness, of a people torn apart by a past they couldn't escape.
"Their solution noi?" Virumi asked, her voice trembling. "They divided themselves even further. Eight subclans. Each one representing a different shade of guilt, betrayal, or selfish ambition."
The trio's minds reeled from the complexity of it all. They weren't just dealing with a fractured kingdom. They were dealing with a nightmare born of centuries of resentment and shame.
Virumi continued, "Mertromath—they call themselves the 'True Supporters' of the King's decision to betray Amaulya. They still hold their heads high, like cowards who've convinced themselves they were brave."
"Mertromath?" Yesdar muttered, because he wanted confirm if Virumi was really insulting the clan she belonged from.
"Yes, noi." Virumi confirmed, nodding her head with tears in her eyes. "Then there's Tashkihal—they supported the King's decision too, but they didn't want to live under his family's rule anymore. Ronaw—supporters, but they had personal interests, hidden agendas they wanted fulfilled. Mordul Uls—they agreed with the King's decision, but they sought economic support, wealth from the king's family."
She paused, her eyes hardening as she shifted to the other side of the fractured clans. "Then there's the Mockumal—they opposed the King's decision but believed the current royal family shouldn't be blamed for the sins of their ancestors noi. Rurhayarti—opposers too, but like the Mockumal, they weren't interested in bloodshed. And they just wanted their own selfish desires met. Urhula—they wanted nothing to do with the King's family, no war, no alliance, nothing, noi."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, but her words hit with the force of a billion screams. "And finally, the Ondra Hadrakshis. The true opposers. The ones who still carry the blood-soaked guilt of betraying Amaulya on their backs noi. The ones who were and are the enemies of the King's family."
Virumi's words hung in the air like a curse, their weight pulling the trio into the dark history of her people. They could feel it now—the slow, suffocating descent into madness, a kingdom fractured not just by politics, but by the unshakable chains of a decision made long ago.
Griswa's eyes burned with intensity, the weight of the story settling deep in his mind. This was more than just a conflict between clans. This was a battle between the ghosts of a past that refused to die.
The trio stood still, each of them grappling with the complexity of the tale. There was no clean break, no simple line to draw between right and wrong. It was a labyrinth of guilt, betrayal, and selfishness, spiraling deeper with each passing generation.
Virumi wasn't finished. Her breath hitched as she prepared to explain the final twist. "The subclans, all eight of them, are divided by a Seven-Step-Staircase System noi." Her words cut through the silence like a blade.
"The what?!" the trio asked in unison, their disbelief palpable.
Virumi's shoulders slumped as she exhaled. "The whole of Aximia is a man-made giant staircase, rising from east to west noi. Each territory is a step, higher than the one before it noi. And at the very top of the staircase—at the final step, almost touching the sky—is Mertromath."
The trio's jaws clenched. They could picture it now—the towering monument, the impenetrable fortress of power, built not by the natural world but by the hands of those who sought to control it.
"The territories are separated from north to south by 100-meter-high walls," Virumi continued, her voice devoid of emotion. "No gaps. No escape. The only way to move between territories is through the lifts, and you need permission to even step foot on one."
Griswa's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He could feel the tightness of the control, the suffocating grip that held these people in place, caged by stone and fear.
"And at the bottom?" Malaes asked quietly, already dreading the answer.
"At the bottom, noi," Virumi whispered, "are the Ondra Hadrakshis. They live on the real land, the only ones who can touch the sea. They were cast out, exiled, left to rot in the dirt. But they're the only ones who can remember what it feels like to walk on the real ground, noi."
The trio felt it in their bones—the twisted, broken system that had built Aximia. A system that rose like a monstrous staircase, each step more or less corrupt than the last, each wall higher not by the height, but by the clans' positions, each breath more stifled.
Pronunciations: (The previous chapter's included here)
Virumi Razhack: [VEE]+[ROO]+[MEE]+[RAZ]+[HACKE]
Mertromath: [MEHR]+[TROU]+[MATH]
Ondra Hadrakshis: [ON]+[DRAA]+[HADRAAK]+[SHISU]
Urhula: [OOR]+[HOO]+[LAA]
Rurhayarti: [ROOR]+[HA]+[YAAR]+[TEE]
Mockumal: [MOCK]+[OO]+[MAL]
Mordul Uls: [MOR]+[DOOL]+[ULS]
Ronaw: [RO]+[NAW]
Tashkihal: [TASH]+[KEE]+[HAAL]
Extra Information:
The order of the rise in the Staircase System.
East To West (Land--Top): Ondra Hadrakshis--Urhula--Rurhayarti--Mockumal--Mordul Uls--Ronaw--Tashkihal--Mertromath