- Throne of the Spider King

"I wonder how the others are doing," Elanor thought aloud, receiving no response.

The third floor was, compared to the previous floor, bare.

In the centre of the room there burned a large flame inside a metal dish, one large enough and fierce enough to illuminate the entire floor and bathe it in a comforting heat, one that felt like a gentle hug from a long-lost friend.

The dish was place on top of a small table that was adorned with beautiful silks of a wide variety of colours and statues of a feminine deity.

On the floor at the foot of the table, many offerings lay around the shrine. From small gifts handcrafted with care, such as a necklace of perfectly bloomed flowers, to grand offerings worth the wealth of a small nation, each took an equal space around the table.

Aside from the table, there was nothing in the room. If it wasn't for the fact that they could clearly breathe, it would have been questionable whether there was even air in the room.

"Is this a shrine?" Roxy asked aloud.

"It seems like it, although that imagery isn't of any of the deities I'm familiar with." Elanor crouched near the shrine and closely studied its details as she answered.

"What is it? What does it look like?"

"It's like a mother," Elanor responded slowly, "caring, warm. But at the same time, it's as though it's the furthest thing from that. Can you feel it, in the air?"

"Kind of. It's soothing, but it also feels harsh," Roxy responded, scanning the room as she slowly approached Elanor.

"Come down here with me," Elanor said with a glance at Roxy.

"Never took you for the religious type," Roxy commented as she obliged Elanor's request.

"Oh, I'm not. Believe me. But... this feels kind of nice, wouldn't you agree?"

It felt as though there were no worries at all for the two as they sat at the shrine. Previously clouded by the discovery of this secret place, Roxy's mind, filled with her blind hate for the Syndicate, was now free from any burdens.

It wasn't just clarity that the shrine provided. Elanor felt the fear that had plagued her in this place disappear as soon as she sat down, the memories of the tunnels like a distant story experienced by another.

Soft whispers called out to them as they remained still, blessing them with reassurances and care.

"I've got a feeling I know how to get to the throne from here," Elanor gently whispered.

"Yeah, me too," Roxy responded.

Elanor laughed softly, "Who would have thought, such a nice shrine wanted a blood sacrifice."

Roxy joined her laughter. "Yeah, it's absurd. We don't even know what deity this is."

"Ah well, let's get it over with, shall we?"

The two girls stood and drew small knives from their pockets.

Holding steady hands over the burning fire, they effortlessly cut into the skin of their hands and squeezed the wound, allowing a small trail of blood from each of them to trickle down into the fire.

Upon receiving the gift, the fire raged fiercely, rising high to engulf their hands. But they felt no pain from the fire. Instead, the fire on their hands felt nice, soothing and repairing.

As the fire returned to its normal size, the building began to shake.

In the ceiling above them, a staircase began to descend, leading to the roof and the waiting throne.

Withdrawing their hands, the girls found no wound left by the knives. They stepped away from the shrine and composed themselves, before heading up the stairs.

Stepping from the shrine room and onto the roof was like stepping from heaven into hell. The comforting heat was long gone here, replaced with a harsh and hostile air that felt like it belonged on a battlefield responsible for the deaths of millions.

The floor of the shrine room had felt like walking barefoot through a fresh meadow on a cotton blanket. The surface of the roof felt like stepping onto a mass grave, crushing skulls with each step.

The two hurried to the throne, both not wanting to spend a second more than necessary in the hate-filled environment.

Laying slumped onto the throne, as though thrown onto it, a skeleton carried out an eternal servitude.

Hidden underneath its thick bones in the seat of the throne, lay an ornate ring with a huge, blue jewel firmly fixed into the top of it.

"That must be it," Roxy said.

Elanor nodded in agreement as she reached out a shaking hand to take it. She slowly approached the skeleton, taking care not to touch it's feeble looking frame.

Instead, the skeleton touched her. Leaping to life from its lifeless position, it lunged at her with a deadly determination, a rusty sword gripped tightly in its right hand.

Elanor instinctively lurched back and raised her hands defensively, preparing to cast a protective spell. Roxy, too, was alert and ready to protect Elanor.

But there was no need. Just as suddenly as the skeleton had moved, did it stop, all of the energy it had generated suddenly vanishing as its movement came to an illogically fast halt.

"Elanor, you're glowing!" Roxy exclaimed.

"So are you!" she responded.

It stepped to the side and knelt deeply before both of them, the top of its skull almost touching the ground.

"What's it doing?" Elanor asked.

"Does it matter? Just grab it!"

After some time, Elanor took her gaze from the kneeling skeleton and moved it over to the seat, and the large ring that lay atop it. Slowly stretching her hand out, cautious of the skeleton, she took the ring and clasped it tightly in her hand. As she took it, she glanced back at the skeleton, fearful that it would reanimate and attack them again.

Instead, it remained motionless and emitted a quiet, ethereal whisper.

"My burden... is over. Now... it lies with... you."

As it forced out its final words, uttered through an ancient incantation, the skeleton's body crumbled to ash, before blowing away in a sudden gust of wind.

"Did you hear that?" Elanor asked.

"Hear what?"

"It was as though it spoke."

"Spoke?" Roxy asked with surprise. "It doesn't matter. Come on, let's go back down," she said with a shake of her head.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marcus opened his eyes. He was in a large, cobweb ridden room.

Feeling as though he had woken up from centuries of slumber, he rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "Where are we?" he asked as he looked around the room.

"We're in that huge building. The spiders that saved us brought us here." Tess towered over him as she spoke. "Now, you want to explain what that was about back there?"

"You should have-" he began, being swiftly cut off by Tess.

"No. I 'should have' nothing. You left me out on my own with no warning, against vicious beastmen in a pack. You shouldn't have done that, or at least give me more warning than 'hang on a minute,'" she began angrily. "Also, I performed a lot better against them than you, so don't tell me what I should have done!"

She sighed before continuing. "Why are you like this? What made you so obsessed with strength, with... with whatever this bullshit is?"

"Visions."

"What kind of visions?"

"I've seen everything," he began, staring at a distant wall. "I've seen the things people do, I've seen what happens to the world. I've seen the evil of man, even those which people consider good. I've seen the protectors of our land commit heinous acts upon its people, corrupting innocents in the process. I've seen empires rise and fall. I've seen the deaths of everyone, everyone but myself. Each time different. Each time brutal.

They all die. All but me. And there's nothing that I can do. So strength is the only thing that can help. So those who don't wish to become strong must be despised.

Strong is what I must become. I must be strong to defeat my destiny, to strike the universe back."