Present Day:
Alara sat within the Eternal Library, surrounded by towering shelves of books that seemed to stretch into infinity. The air was thick with the scent of ancient parchment and the soft glow of candlelight cast shifting shadows across the walls. The dome above revealed the expanse of space, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the endless knowledge contained within these hallowed halls.
For days, Alara had delved into the countless tomes and scrolls, searching for any clue that might lead to a cure for the madness that plagued her people. Each page she turned, each word she read, only seemed to deepen her despair. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon her shoulders, and the knowledge that she had yet to find a solution gnawed at her like a festering wound.
She held a large, golden leather-covered book in her hands, its pages filled with cryptic symbols and ancient wisdom. But no matter how hard she searched, she found no answers, only more questions. Her heart ached with sorrow for those who had succumbed to the madness—the patients in Saulste's care, her loyal companion Yara, and young Chet, whose bright spirit had been snuffed out too soon. As she stared at the text before her, her mind wandered to Chet's face, his laughter ringing in her ears. If only she had found a cure sooner, perhaps he would still be alive. Guilt gnawed at her insides, twisting like a knife in her gut. She slammed the book shut, the sound echoing through the silent library.
The image of Saulste, now infected himself, flashed before her eyes, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her brother was doing everything he could to quarantine him, but time was running out. The thought of losing another loved one to the madness was almost too much to bear.
Fear gripped her heart like a vice, the constant worry of failing her people weighing heavily on her mind.
She had been entrusted with their safety, their well-being, and yet here she was, powerless to save them from this unseen enemy.
"What a great job I'm doing," she muttered bitterly to herself, her voice barely a whisper in the vastness of the library.
In frustration, Alara stood up, departing from the library at once. She prayed for the gods to resolve this crisis swiftly before the casualties grew beyond reckoning.
As she exited the library, she was met with the familiar sight of the Narthex, a grand palace adorned with white obsidian architecture, shaped to represent multiple wings surrounding an orb, that gleamed in the moonlight. The Narthex stood as a beacon of divinity, its entrance leading into a ponderous synod—a liminal space always becoming anew.
Atop the palace loomed a giant crystal temple that housed the nexus cube, the holiest of artifacts that provided eternal life and divine gifts to the lothrans of Ailon. The Source was not merely an object but a sacred entity, one with them and one with the universe. Its slick white obsidian surface shimmered with an ethereal glow, casting a pure, bright light that filled one with power and warmth.
Alara had been chosen by High Elder Arioch and High Elder Yhulthad to serve alongside them in preserving the Source – the nexus cube. As the Oracle, she was tasked with speaking on behalf of the Source to the Lothrans, guiding them with divine wisdom and foresight. Surely, a thing of such magnificence could provide her with an answer to best the corruption that threatened their world.
"Yes," she thought to herself with determination. It was worth a shot.
She walked towards the lift, its platform made from solid light that pulsated beneath her feet. With each step, she felt a tingling sensation, a reminder of the divine energy that flowed through the very fabric of their existence. The lift itself was a marvel of lothric craftsmanship, its surface adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change with the flow of celestial energy. As she stepped onto the lift, she could feel the weight of her purpose pressing down upon her shoulders. The journey to the temple was a solemn one, each moment filled with anticipation and apprehension. Around her, the grandeur of the Narthex unfolded in all its glory—the walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of celestial beauty, while jewels of every hue adorned the ceilings, casting shimmering patterns of light across the chamber.
Finally, the lift came to a stop within the entrance of the temple, and Alara stepped out into the sacred space. The air was thick with a sense of reverence, a palpable reminder of the sanctity of this place. The pillars that lined the chamber stretched towards the heavens, their surfaces adorned with glowing runes that pulsed with divine energy.
At the centre of the temple stood the nexus cube itself, a towering monolith of pure white obsidian that radiated with an otherworldly brilliance. Alara approached it with a sense of awe, her heart pounding in her chest as she drew nearer. This was the heart of their world, the source of their power.
With a deep breath, she steadied herself.
"Tell me what to do, and I will do it," Alara pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation as she moved closer to the cube. "Please," she whispered as she levitated off the ground, drawn irresistibly towards the pure energy emanating from the Source. Closer and closer she floated until her palm could feel the warm surface, and she gasped as she sensed the beating of a strong pulse against her skin.
Veins of blue light stretched across its surface, rushing into her palm, coursing through her arm, and into her very being. The sensation of pulses echoed throughout her body, a symphony of energy vibrating in harmony with her own heartbeat. Yet, amidst this surge of power, a cold feeling settled into her heart, tightening around her chest like an icy vice.
"What are you trying to show me?" Alara murmured, her voice barely audible over the thrum of energy. With trembling fingers, she placed her other hand on the smooth surface, seeking answers amidst the swirling currents of divine energy.
In an instant, a haunting image crept into her mind's eye—a desolate land, burning with the flames of destruction, tortured souls screaming and writhing in agony. The scene unfolded before her like a nightmare, each detail etched into her consciousness with terrifying clarity. It was a vision of utter despair, a world consumed by darkness and despair.
Alara gasped in horror as she pulled away from the Source, her mind reeling from the intensity of the vision. Was that their future? Could such devastation truly await them? Fear gnawed at her heart, threatening to overwhelm her with its suffocating grip. "Why would you show me that?" she demanded, her voice trembling with panic. The Source remained silent, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow, as enigmatic as ever. Yet, in its silent presence, Alara sensed a profound sense of foreboding—a warning of the perils that lay ahead, and the urgent need for action to avert disaster.
Alara wasted no time descending from the chamber of the Source, her mind racing with the urgency of her revelation. With determined strides, she rushed through the grand halls of the palace, her heart pounding with a sense of impending doom. The weight of the vision she had witnessed bore down on her, driving her forward with a singular purpose—to inform High Elder Arioch of the ominous portent that had unfolded before her eyes.