Dissonance

by K. T. Hanna

  He nodded to their bard, thanking him with as much energy as he could muster, and then turned to watch the death throes of the beast they’d just vacated.

  It was larger from this vantage point, and strings of earth and plants served as some sort of tentacles as it thrashed around violently.

  Suddenly an echo of shudders ricocheted through its body, and then it went limp before falling to the ground and knocking the whole raid to the ground.

  “Wards?” Murmur echoed, images flashing through her mind, each more confusing than the last. She couldn’t get a read on the young girl, or the banshee, or whatever Xestia was. Trusting her wasn’t exactly on Murmur’s agenda.

  “Wards,” Torch agreed, not explaining anything. “The wards that guard the rest of the family.”

  Xestia glanced between them, her eyes widening in recognition and smiled sweetly before she spoke. “We need to gather the rest of the family, and break through the fifth seal, defend the wards from the waves, and then and only then can we free Lilith.”

  Sinister nudged Murmur in the ribs a little too forcefully, and the enchanter rubbed the raw spot. She knew exactly what Sinister was thinking, because she was thinking the exact same thing. Wasn’t it like a bad thing to release Lilith, if any of the folklore even hid a kernel of truth?

  Murmur frowned.

  “Who is this Lilith?” she asked hesitantly, hoping they didn’t both turn back into evil things and smite her.

  Xestia blinked as if it was the most absurd question she’d ever heard of. Then she laughed. “Oh, you’re kidding, right?”

  Murmur shook her head and Xestia glanced back at Torch, and then around at the rest of the group who stood waiting for the answer too. “Oh, wow, you really don’t know.”

  Then she frowned, and the center where her nose would have been if she were human turned a rosy pink. “Lilith took my people from me, my castle, and my life. She cursed this place, and if we do not free her, we cannot kill her. There’s just a lot we have to go through first.”

  Xestia smiled. “Does that help?”

  “Sure!” Murmur forced a smile, hoping against hope that they were defending the right party here, and not getting dragged into a shitshow. Although, with the way their luck had been going, the latter was a distinct possibility. She didn’t even dare ask who the rest of the forces were going to be, especially since she’d mentioned family.

  They exited the room and backed into the gorgeous hallway that was now lit by Torch’s silvery light instead of the gloomy illumination they’d had before. Filigree patterns decorated the walls, touched by the brightness. Their patterns danced. Murmur noticed how difficult it was to concentrate on anything else, and clamped her shielding down around herself and her raid. The inability to focus on anything eased up, and she glanced around at the two they’d just met.

  Still, there was no ill intent, no anger that she wasn’t falling for their trap, just eagerness to get to the third room. Maybe the halls themselves were alive.

  “If we’d have stepped into three from one, would you still have been in the next room we went to?” Sinister asked suddenly, directing her question to Xestia.

  The former banshee shook her head. “No. If you’d done that, I would have been lost.”

  “Just for this time, right?” Havoc asked, an odd undertone to his voice.

  Murmur watched him curiously while Xestia answered. “No. I would have been lost. But it’s okay, as the banshee I didn’t even realize I wasn’t me. You took the right path, so all is well. Let us go and finish this. Your aid will be rewarded.”

  Murmur watched the girl, trying not to be too obvious, but Xestia seemed strange. Different from anyone else she’d encountered in Somnia so far. Self-possessed, polite, yet driven. With a need to complete a task she’d set herself, with the need to right a wrong.

  Those were the waves of emotion emanating from her. There was definitely something Torch and Xestia weren’t telling them, and it was that part that worried Murmur. She was far better at walking into situations she could read, and despite her skill level, reading these two was proving difficult.

  They came to a halt outside the third room, and a cool breeze blew in from somewhere Murmur couldn’t pinpoint. Torch looked around, her light flickering and making the shadows dance across the walls in a macabre waltz they couldn’t hear the music to.

  “Be careful in here,” Xestia whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “This...my sister is more lost than I was.”

  Murmur wanted to ask what she meant by that, but a harsh gust of wind blew down the corridor, colliding with a whoosh of air that shot out of the suddenly-opened third door they were standing next to, freezing in the clashing intensity.

  “Oh,” Xestia said, her voice devoid of expression. “I guess she found me.”

  And then Torch’s light went out.

  The frigid air caught Murmur’s hair in a whirlwind, whipping the tiny lights up around her, causing Tiachi to wake up and reach out for another strand to steady herself against. Sinister’s robes flew around her, gusting up like ribbons unwound from a maypole. Snowy dug his feet in, growling deep in his throat at the open door, his eyes seeing something in the darkness none of the rest of them could.

  A high-pitched cackling emanated from the room, followed by another gust of wind that didn’t take them by surprise as much this time. Even Torch, who’d only just managed to re-ignite her flames, dialed them back so as to keep them lit behind protection when the wind encircled her this time.

  “You’re no fun, Xestia. You’ve never been any fun,” the voice taunted from the darkness, pouting. “Why don’t you come in here by yourself and play with me?”

  But the edge to the words didn’t leave any doubt in Murmur’s mind that whatever was in there didn’t mean it in the slightest. If Xestia went into that room by herself, she’d never leave, and Murmur knew it with a certainty that brought back her ache of death again.

  It seemed Xestia might be emotionless, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “Dying wasn’t in my game plan for the day. I think I’ll bring my new friends with me, if that’s okay, Hortia.” Xestia’s words clung hollow, yet demanding at the same time like she felt she was owed what she was asking for.

  “Fine,” Hortia muttered after a brief hesitation. “If you insist. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—or them.”

  Xestia paused on the threshold, glancing back at the group and motioning for them to accompany her. “But you didn’t warn me. You just said I should come and play with you. How rude would that be of me to do something like that when I owe these people—and not you—my life?”

  She ushered the rest of them into the room, keeping one foot firmly on the lip, making sure the door couldn’t close without her. When everyone had moved into the pitch-black room, Xestia followed, and the door slammed shut behind her.

  Murmur glanced at Mellow. Their eyes had a slightly vacant look to them, and a frown tugged at the corners of their mouth, giving them an eerie appearance in the soft light. She wished she knew what their quest said.

  Torch emanated the only light in the room, and Murmur found herself creeping closer to the strange elemental, feeling more comforted by the light in a darkness that was swallowing everything else.

  The stamp of impatience came from the last place Murmur had expected.

  “Stop it, Hortia!” Finally, an element of emotion entered Xestia’s voice, impatience and petulance, probably irritation at having to go over something they’d been over many times in their lives together.

  Another peal of laughter, this time less like an evil witch cackle and more like a slightly unhinged individual who’d been in the dark alone for far too long. “But Xestia. Don’t you want my attention? You always want my attention. If only you’d come alone you’d have it forever, but now I have to spend my energy getting rid of these things. That m
akes me pretty angry, you know?”

  For the first time Xestia hesitated, but then the surety entered her voice again and she spoke clearly, commandingly. “Reveal yourself.”

  Even Murmur felt an intrinsic need to reveal herself, and she didn’t even understand how that worked. She was a locus, not a hidden magically-possessed body.

  “Damn you, Xestia, you’re not supposed to use that ‘will be done’ malarkey on me.”

  In the dim light that was growing slightly brighter, Murmur saw the young girl shrug. She was coming more into her own. The AIs only knew how long she’d been subjected to the insanity that was the banshee.

  The confidence returned, emotion began to filter through to her thoughts, and out through each breath she took. Her gaze held fire and passion, a strength Murmur wished she could possess herself.

  “Reveal yourself, Hortia!” The words echoed throughout the hall, through the darkness, and came back full circle to smack the hidden sister in the face.

  Mellow moved quickly to stand next to the smaller sister. They took her hand, and the gently bobbing cauldron began to spout smoke out over the edges so much that it pooled on the floor around all of their feet and began to spread.

  Xestia raised her eyebrows and nodded once at Mellow, who maintained a grip on her hand. Then the young former banshee opened her mouth again. This time the words tumbled out with conviction, like an intonation of a long dead spell.

  “Reveal yourself, Hortia!”

  The words themselves sounded like tombstones clanking together, and Murmur suppressed her shiver as well as she could.

  “No!” Hortia screamed, but apparently her opinion meant nothing. Because some unseen force dragged her forward, toward her sister, wriggling so fast she was a blur until Xestia held up a hand and that too stopped.

  Xestia’s expression held pity, genuine grief at how her sister appeared, but also relief at having been able to do what she’d just done. “You only ever had to ask for help. Both of you. You know that, right?”

  Hortia nodded, tears streaming down her pale white face. Darkness encroached up and down her as she moved and breathed. Something was vying against Xestia’s hold on the room, something powerful. Even with Mellow’s added strength, it seemed to be all the girl could do to maintain it.

  “If you can’t help us fight this, Hortia, you know what will happen, don’t you?” Xestia sounded years beyond her age. Sad yet knowing, wise yet vulnerable. Such a contradiction.

  “I know.” Hortia whispered, and her face twisted as black leaked through onto it again.

  “Good luck getting your sister back.” The cackling returned, and Xestia sighed, looking at Mellow instead.

  “I’m going to need more of that,” she said very quietly.

  Mellow only nodded, like they had directions of some sort. Murmur watched in fascination as Mellow began to chant softly over their cauldron.

  Xestia watched for a moment and then took in a deep breath.

  “Very well. I did warn you.” Xestia echoed the earlier threat, moved her hands in a quick pattern that almost resembled dancing, and struck out with a pure shaft of white light that left whatever Hortia was writhing in bright agony.

  Somnia Online

  Exodus Guild Raid - Ilinish Threshold

  Early Hours Day Nineteen

  Jirald didn’t understand Masha’s anger. The older player looked like he was ready to explode. Irritated, Jirald put his hands on his hips and glared at the cleric. “Look. You asked me if I could explode stuff, so I assumed you wanted the monster dead.”

  “You could have killed the rest of us in the process.” Masha gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “But I didn’t.” Jirald shrugged.

  The gatekeeper was dead. And he neared the edge of the massive spiral chasm that lingered in the wake of its worm-like body shriveling up when it died.

  “What on earth possessed you to drop that many explosives inside of the thing?” Masha’s tone was quieter, like he’d just lost all his energy.

  Jirald chalked it up to a win.

  “I figured they were better in where they could do more damage than out. All I had to do was hang on when it opened its mouth. Wasn’t hard.” He grinned, like all his Christmases had come at once. “I mean, it was huge. So I fed it all the explosives worth of material I had on me. I’ll have to access guild stores if we want more.”

  “You basically soloed a freaking dungeon boss, Jirald. No need to show off more.” Masha reached out to ruffle the rogue’s hair, but he dodged out of the way in time.

  “Don’t do that.” Jirald shook his head, letting the thick tendrils of his hair shake loose. “And I don’t think it was an actual boss, but more like a gatekeeper, or mini boss that holds the entrance to the dungeon. I mean, he wouldn’t have been so easy to blow up otherwise, I’d like to think.”

  Masha frowned. “True. If we go on what else we know of the dungeons, he was way too easy a boss.”

  Jirald took a step closer to the edge, next to where the narrow spiral staircase began to wind down. “I wonder how long it takes him to respawn, I mean, this is where he sits, so if we take too long in there, we might have to blow him up again.”

  There was eagerness in his voice that he didn’t bother to hide. Hell, blowing up the gatekeeper had been the biggest highlight of the game for him so far. That and killing Karn. Of course, now he just had to add Murmur to that list a couple of times, maybe make her lose a level or three, and then it’d be just about the funnest game he’d ever played. And maybe, just maybe, that damned key down there in a chest was going to help make it the greatest ever!

  “What are you grinning about?” Ishwa was suddenly by his side, and Jirald balked at his sudden appearance. The gnome always seemed grumpy, had in every game Jirald had played with him. That had to be three or four now. Jirald couldn’t quite remember.

  “I’m grinning about the fact that we just made it into Ilinish, and we should have a good twelve in-game hours on the clock before this bad-boy gatekeeper respawns on us. So let’s get down there and kill shit.” It wasn’t a lie; Jirald just didn’t like letting people in on his inner thoughts. And Masha wasn’t an exception, he was just uncannily observant enough to usually half tell what it was going through Jirald’s mind at any given time.

  Ishwa’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Sure. I’m sure that’s it. Make sure you don’t take anything that isn’t in the first section of the guild tab. You don’t have access to the others, but who knows with your slippery rogue fingers, eh?”

  Jirald smiled, genuinely excited for once. It meant he had access to more materials—and therefore more damage. This dungeon was going to be a blast. Well, hopefully the blast would be for the monsters they fought and not for their raid. Still, though.

  “Thanks,” he said, meaning it genuinely for once. The gnome just nodded once, and walked toward Masha, grumbling under his breath.

  Jirald watched him go and looked down at his hands, flexing his gloved fingers around the blade in them. They were going to defeat this dungeon. If Karn, Risk, and Spiral could, so could Exodus. He glanced at the new abilities he’d gained with level thirty-five and grinned. There were a couple of things he couldn’t wait to try to against Fable, but first he had to hit fifty, and to do that, they needed to defeat Ilinish. And while he wasn’t completely fond of going underground, he wasn’t about to pass up another chance at a getashi and the key to making Fable pay.

  He jogged over to where Masha stood discussing with Ishwa and E(Tank). “Hey, we need to get down there before whatever is down there realizes it’s no longer blocked and decides to come and check out the view for itself.”

  The rest of them nodded and started gathering the rest of the raid. Jirald stood to the side and waited. Dungeon crawling was the best thing ever, regardless of what class he was playing.

  The ligh
t surrounding Hortia grew brighter and brighter, fueled by Torch through Xestia with Mellow’s magnification. The young locus held impassivity as her shield, but Murmur swore she could feel a swathe of regret trying to choke not only the girl she was reading, but herself as well.

  Everyone had looked away by now, except Murmur and Mellow. Their special vision, when activated, allowed for brightness like this to be subdued to manageable, if differently-colored versions. The muted version of such bright light resembled sepia tones, with just a tinge browner.

  Hortia’s screams echoed throughout the room, suffusing with the piercing shrill of the light and making them indistinguishable. Xestia frowned, and the veins near her temples began to strain as she pushed harder.

  “You made me do this. All you had to do was fight it on your own, but now I have to help you.” The words were so soft, Murmur thought she was the only one who was close enough to hear them.

  She wanted so badly to lean forward and place a hand on the girl’s shoulder, but she resisted, thinking it likely too formal. Instead, she tried to extend an underlying tone of understanding over to her. Because sometimes it could be terribly lonely, and terribly painful to do what was right.

  Hortia screamed louder, and Xestia winced at the sound, yet her hands held the light steady, and slowly but surely darkness peeled off her sister. At first it flaked in tiny chunks and then it peeled in longer layers, in ribbons and strips, like flesh from bone, tearing at Hortia’s skin and leaving it raw and vulnerable.

  Mellow grunted with exertion and ground out the words tightly between clenched teeth. “Hands. Lend power. Don’t think I have enough of it.”