Holy Vision pt. 1

Holy Vision

In a world, where darkness prevails, deep under the earth, an elven folk is under the firm control of the Demonspider and her priestesses. A society built around the concept of constant struggle against one another, each member striving to become stronger, to be at the top, and never accepting a loss. Though they would never admit it, every single one of them lives in mortal fear. Fear of their goddess, fear of each other. Every one might take away what they have.

In the time of awakening, that is now at hand, some will no longer close their eyes to this reality. And once the eyes are open, there is no way to escape the impeding doom this world spells out with every heartbeat. And every step taken, has its consequences.

There is a new voice in the choir of fear. Listen and see. It is not as if you could escape the voice anymore. Your eyes are already open...

Malabeth rose with short shriek. Her white mane whipped around her head and finally settled down her back again, but the beautiful drow priestess looked battered, disturbed. "The nightmare again", she whispered. Her eyes pierced the darkness of her small room. For a dark elf like her, it was nothing special to be able to see in the dark, although her world was lacking colors as it is. Sylea would not allow her apprentices more than a few select possessios, and thus the room was only filled with her bed, a small trunk for the few pieces of clothing she possessed and a rack for her weapons. Slowly Malabeth rose. Her dark body was bathed in cold sweat. Were there any souce of light present, she would gleam in the shine, but the room and the corridor outside were prefectly dark.
Slowly Malabeth walked towards the door. She reached out to the trunk, where a soft veil rested, big enough to cover her whole body. She wrapped it around her shoulders and opened the door to the corridor.

The city was asleep. Down the corridor, up though the halls, there was not a sound to be heard. The slave-pits were too far away, as were the ceremonial areas of the temple. The only adornments in the temple were symbols of the Demonspider and real webbing and real spiders, as it was not allowed to remove them. Malabeth never felt comfortable among these strange creatures. She believed no one ever was, not if the difference between two concepts was so great as it was between Drow and Spiders. Yet the Demonspider was all she knew, all she worshipped and all she wanted to live for.
Bare-footed, Malabeth walked down the corridor to take a look at the city. At the far end stairs led down into the darkness of the lower levels. She took the path downard.
The narrow stairs were not meant for visitors, only for those permanently living in the dark temple. There were no windows here, and no lights, but in shades of grey Malabeth could discern the steps perfectly in the dark.
She stopped. "What is....this?", she whispered and stared down. In front of her, just a few steps in front of her the steps faded into darkness.
True. Her kind possessed this kind of ability, to drown an area in unnatural darkness, even for their own eyes unable to pierce, but that darkness had a flickering quality, like shadows cast from a wild fire. The darkness in front of her was pitch black and solid. Had someone cast a spell? Silently? Malabeth moved onwards slowly, testing the darkness, but the floor was still there. She suddenly felt very aware of the thin layer of fabric covering her body without really hiding it from anyone. Her tall form stopped just at the edge of the darkness. Muscles tensed, visible softly under her ebony skin. Very aware of her every movement, Malabeth slowly kept walking. She knew where the steps were, even when she couldn't see. She had walked this passage for the last 10 years, during her apprenticeship, and every day had been mostly the same. Bleak, often filled with horror and helpless anger. Maybe this was just another test.
This was one of the first things she had learned. You ask nothing of the Demonspider. You offer everything you have and hope it will be enough, but you never ask anything.
Then there was a chill wind, moving through Malabeth's thin cloak. She had never felt anything like this before, a chill literally to the bone. Was this fear? Her heart started pounding wildly in her chest, she could feel it in her head, in her limbs. "Do not, stop, Malabeth. You are not that weak, and the only exit lies beyond. Stopping now would be useless." She knew, talking to herself was a sign of weakness, but it didn't matter to her now. All that mattered was SOMEHOW getting through this. She felt herself shiver. The wind blew in her ears.

Then Malabeth stopped. The wind carried words. "Open your eyes, Drow, and see."