[b]Unlucky in the Underworld[/b]
[i]The Unexpected Arrival of Beyre[/i]

Unseen and unheard, the haunting melody of the Mundus Pits spread across the ethereal landscape and beckoned the lost souls of those that have died to their massive maws. The feast had begun and the spirits of the dead approached an archaic and alien metal platter at the end of a long walkway that hung over a great abyss. The otherworldly music called from the depths and lulled the many souls into a strange trance. There were incoherent hushed whispers among them, and a grave apprehension in the air.

Hundreds of souls soon gathered on the large precarious platform and patiently waited until eventually a colossal being had arisen from the darkness and grasped the plate, now laden with ghostly entities that did not react to this celestial creature's presence. The being pulled the plate down, gently transporting the host of souls lower into the sea of shadows, to the bottom of the abyss. After a time had passed, the colossus returned and allowed more spirits of the dead to step onto the platter to be carried down.

More and more souls were collected in this manner, until the edge of the abyss was a quiet and lonely place. The deep and chthonic melody could still be heard by those with senses beyond mortal perception, and it enticed those that did not know its origin, its purpose. The answer could only be found at the bottom of the abyss. A dangerous descent into the depths of the Underworld. But for Beyre, she had already found a way down -- on the edge of the plate, ethereal and more of a ghost than even the dead.

The journey only consisted of creeping closer to the sorrowful song while the massive monstrosity that transported them watched with a feral smile and merciless gaze. A curved horn jutted from the center of its head, and a multitude of limbs not preoccupied with holding the plate were either quietly shifting back and forth like serpents lulled to sleep, or carelessly climbing down the walls. Despite the destruction of the stone and various veins of unknown metals, there was no shaking and no loud noises. Only unsettling silence existed during the descent.

Time passed as they delved deeper and deeper...

The light had faded, but such was not needed for a god to see what was around them. An empty city spread along the lower walls and floor of the nigh endless pit; tens of thousands of decrepit stone structures resembling temples, but with great shrines and altars that burst forth from their interiors like blood from numerous cuts. There was no coherency in the placement of buildings scattered in all directions, growing atop each other like weeds and vines in a forgotten and unloved garden. The architecture was just as absurd, many of the buildings were vastly different in comparison to those beside them as though hundreds of minds from a myriad of cultures came together to design this settlement. Very few could be considered comfortable, and there were many that were simply disturbing to look at.

The music became more potent here, but there was also the faint sounds of battle farther. All of the small spirits were completely complacent, and merely stepped off of the plate when it alighted in a large clearing at the dead city's edge. The giant gestured for them to follow a collection of hallways that led into further undulating shadows and amorphous darkness. Once the plate was unburdened, the giant began its ascent back to the surface. It began to sing softly, its hollow voices resonating with the song that seeped into everything here.

Through the haunting halls and across a sea of shadows where pale clouds obscured even the eyes of a god, the distant roar of battle became louder, and still the spirits were calm. Suddenly the thunderous ruptures of cannons and nightmarish screams ended and only the otherworldly music remained. Another colossus - this one was beastly in appearance akin to a horribly mutated goat - emerged from the ivory fog and provided birdlike beds and blankets to the souls that had been walking for so long. The dead rested upon these gifts, sleeping peacefully while they drifted through the shimmering darkness. The grotesque goat was walking beside the slumbering souls, singing a lonely lullaby with various voices speaking in many different languages. Her words were wistful and only Beyre could comprehend the abstract lyrics that no living creature could pronounce.

Its lifeless eyes were unblinking as they then followed Beyre with their curious gaze. With its seventh voice, the goat called out words of welcome, and its ninth voice introduced itself as Mimaya the Sleeping Shepherd that Paints the Skies with Joy. It offered conversation and began a strange dance with vestigial limbs that grew from its back like broken bones and branches, and was accompanied by a single sound which resounded through the shadows; a clear and enchanting chime, as though a silver bell had been struck. Mimaya changed and became much smaller, similar to the shape and size of Beyre. She smiled meekly, and asked with longing eyes whether the goddess would converse with her or not.

"Tell me of the other gods machinations in a place like this," Beyre responded. She crossed her arms and kept a certain seriousness about her - not wanting to showcase her ignorance too much.

Mimaya was mesmerized by the goddess before her, and wondered whether she had been entrapped by an Uhtenim illusion. She could not comprehend how such beauty came to be, it had been so long since she was with Tonta and Ekundayo. All of the gods possessed their own song, and each song was so very different. Being in their presence was like suddenly gaining immense uncontrollable speed and soaring towards something unknown, yet memorable. The gods seemed to write reality into existence wherever they go, and in their absence... the world was quiet.

Mimaya currently considered herself a paradoxical being; both blessed and cursed by the unexpected appearance of an unfamiliar goddess while she watched over the souls on their journey to the Path of the Dead. The fear that this goddess might become wrathful both excited her and filled her dread. "The gods come and the gods go, as is their wont. The Underworld is a realm of death. The dreams that it grants have the feeling of life. Its hunger is boundless, their presence brings strife. Death comes like the kiss of a lover and the crashing of mountains. It comes to a question, a choice; are you afraid of death?" She chanted with her second and fourth resonating voices, as her limbs reach and grasp at nothingness.

"I don't understand." Beyre frowned. "Come again? So the other gods leave this place alone?"

Mimaya laughed, the voice of the goddess bringing her such joy. She sought to answer the question that was certainly a challenge, for the gods would often ask such. "Trust not your eyes, yours senses spread lies. Know now the witless, once fools are now wise." She sang happily, her hands forming intricate shapes and enacting esoteric gestures in accordance with the divine dance.

"What!?" Beyre growled, eyes flashing orange, "Are you making fun of me?" 

"A god whom is found, another created. A child's desire that can never be sated. A music so sweet the gods were offended, and a singer's pain which surely must be ended. A mountain of grief from its roots to its peak, within it they slumber the brave and the meek. Step lightly and swiftly, or you they shall seek." A myriad of voices, whispers and screams. Mimaya the Sleeping Shepherd that Paints the Skies with Joy bows before the beauty of Beyre.

Beyre snarled and stomped away from Mimaya, but not before muttering a few unsavory words that seemed to linger behind. "You don't want to talk straight, fine - don't!"

Mimaya was wondering whether the goddess would return, for Umaya had commanded all of the Umati to guide the divine towards Dol Arlessa, and found herself following Beyre. She called upon the voice of her nearby companions to speak for her, finding her own words silenced. From afar: "She loved the goddess, but her efforts were wasted, to suffer ill health after the joy she has tasted."

Without her voice, she could not sing... she reached out to the goddess and gently gestured for her to follow. Her hands shifted into archaic runes - remain on the path. Mimaya prayed the goddess would come with her.

Beyre spun to meet the spirit. "If you insist on cooperation then answer my question: what is the mechanisms of this place? No rhymes, no poetry, I'm not a child to be amazed by funny sentences and fuzzy meanings. I'm a god."

"Y-y-you came from Na-na-nazarine, and, and, g-g-go to th-the Tower of Seren-ne-neti. U-umaya commanded us t-to guide y-you." Many of her limbs and hands shatter with shame as Mimaya speaks, and tears fall as she cannot comprehend how foolish she was beside this goddess. Perhaps she should banish herself to make amends, how else could she atone for her ignorance. "Forgive m-me."

"Oh that's much better!" Beyre's eyes flashed green, Mimaya's voice returning in full. "So I go to the tower of Serenti? Take me there, please!" 

The spirit conjured forth a massive bed of clouds and blankets with angelic wings that quietly lifted it upwards. An entourage of winged animals with ornate and exquisite creations that all shimmered and glittered like gold bathing in the radiance of the sun accompanied the goddess. Mimaya became a colossus once more, and glided beneath the bed for Beyre to rest upon. Her many arms seemed to carry the parade, and Mimaya continued her journey to the Tower of Sereneti guiding the goddess of luck deeper into the Underworld.

There was little change in scenery during their travels, the fog remained ever present, and a sea of stars rippled and glimmered both above and below. Thousands of souls walked underneath the soft rolling clouds adorned with jewels and feathers, but they remained silent. Soon, a tower emerged upon the horizon, a lonely structure that seemed so small even for Beyre's eyes more keen than any beast or bird. There was another ripple, all around, and in a ephemeral blink, the marching dead had arrived at the tower.

It was unlike any structure seen in the world of the living, unrestrained by the laws of reality. Strange stone limbs protruded from the center shaft, akin to branches on a tree, and thousands of balconies and windows decorated the walls giving the tower a sharp and rough textured appearance. Clinging to the walls like insects were an innumerable amount of cannons pointed outward in all directions, and circling around the tower were more giants like Mimaya, but different in their shape and demeanor. They vigilantly watched the sea of shadows as though expecting something to emerge. All of them were singing, and all seemed to contribute to the source of the haunting melody that permeated everywhere in this realm.

A silk carpet manifested for Beyre to step down from her bed as it alighted, and approached one of the enormous entrances where one of the spirits awaited the goddess. The standing sentinel lacked a face, its body consisting of pale arms reaching towards a luminous stone. Two dark arms held the pale silhouette of a sword. "I am Sehja the Blue Mountain that Purges the Unwise. I have come to guide you to the Tower of Aatu. Pray, come with me." The words were spoken in a stoic voice while the spirit performed the sacred welcoming ceremony with twenty three of its hands.

"Finally," Beyre exclaimed, "no more poetry."

With little else, the goddess towed behind the beast.

Mimaya chimed farewell as she vanished into the void, the souls she had led to this place were escorted by another giant which took them through one of the other entrances into the tower. Only Beyre and Sehja remained.

The colossus offered a hand for the goddess to step upon, the spirit's palm was much larger than the center hall of her canton back in the Red City. "I could carry you, if that is what you desire. Navigating the Underworld is not the same as traveling in the world of the living."

Beyre smiled politely and took a step onto the creature's hand. "Let's go."

They ascended together then. There was no wind to buffet them, nor inertia experienced despite the great speed at which they had arisen. They were silent, but they could hear music that was in sync with their motion; changing as they flew past branches and buildings that extended from the tower. Time seemed to stand still, then twist and echo as reflections and refractions rippled and splashed around them. They merged with a mirror ahead of them, and swam through liquid reality. There was no light, but endless patterns and radiant designs decorated the nothingness, the shattered edges of space that gleamed and blinded.

Then they were descending, farther and farther, yet they had not altered their direction. Above and below them was the Path of the Dead with thousands of more massive and otherworldly towers scattered along its length guarding the hundreds of thousands of souls on their journey to Dol Arlessa. A river of light appeared, and danced in the luminous darkness. Along the path were crystals that grew like flora as large as mountains and revealed the presence of a being that existed within the dancing river of pale radiance. A giant amalgam of dark and celestial characteristics, a memory of something that once walked upon this path. The ghost of Ekundayo which stood among the souls which followed her and showed them where to go.

The fog formed a very melancholic simulacrum of a sky, and slightly obscured the far and faint motes of light that were like stars on a cloudy night. Beyre had seen thousands upon thousands of giant spirits soaring through the void or inside one of the myriad of towers, and all of them were singing. She could feel their gaze upon her, and subtle hints of veneration seeped into their song as she passed by. There were times when she could hear the thunder of cannons and the terrible roars and screams of monstrosities, as though a battle raged near her.

Beyre and Sehja eventually reached another tower, and entered through one of the balconies into a massive hall that could fit an entire city within its brightly illuminated space. The floor was an ocean of shadows, with ivory flowers and luminescent algae casually resting upon its surface, their roots emerging from the unfathomable depths. In the center of the hall, a pale mermaid wielding a silver sword that blazed with divine power was meditating above a small island. Her eyes opened, and her voice was clear and much more powerful compared to the celestial choirs Beyre had encountered so far. "I am Umaya, the Daughter of Death. Why have you come here, goddess?" She had spoken with the voice of child, but her complete stillness and the coldness of her eyes was old with suffering and a lack of innocence.

Beyre pinched the bridge of her nose. "How patient are the other gods you've met?"

"There are many gods, and their patience varies. I would suggest speaking with them yourself to find an answer that would satiate your curiosity. Is that why you have come here?" Umaya tilted her head and smiled slightly.

Beyre blinked. "Are you mocking me?"

"No, I have only asked two questions which you have yet to answer. Would you like a drink?" Umaya asked as she flies towards another island that is narrow and tall and filled with alcoves that hold cups and serving carafes. She turned back to Beyre and awaited an answer.

"So you think you're better than me?" Beyre put her hands in her hips.

"I am what I am. All of the gods and goddesses are welcomed here. If you have need of anything, it shall be provided for." Umaya searched through the alcoves and then sniffed the contents of various jugs. "I am afraid we have nothing to drink, but we could have it brought here to you, if you desire." The mermaid returned to flying above the central island, and offered a strained smile.

Beyre scoffed, "so you DO think you're better!" The goddess fell into a clearly frustrated thought. "Did you make the afterlife?"

"No, I am merely a soldier that protects the souls that walk upon the Path of the Dead." Umaya said without emotion in her voice, her features passive and lifeless like those of a porcelain doll. "Perhaps, you could say I preserve it."

"What gods have dealings with the afterlife?" Beyre demanded. 

"There are many gods and the sum of knowledge collected by us regarding their dealings and interactions within the Underworld is far beyond what I can explain verbally. Further more, listening to me expound upon the esoteric and abstruse nature of the other divine and this realm for many years is likely not what you desire, nor an efficient use of your time." Umaya remained impassive, but bowed her head respectfully towards the goddess.

Beyre's eyes lit up orange. "Don't you tell me what is and what isn't worth my time!" 

Her scowl deepened."I'll be back... Eventually." 

"You have not even introduced yourself. Perhaps you will offer your name when you return and we can construct a beautiful shrine to honor you." Umaya said with her first voice while her third voice chanted the melody of farewell.

The goddess of luck left the hall and wandered the path she now knew and understood; she followed her steps like lingering impressions in sand, and soared across the dark sky of the Underworld. Her mind honed and altered the world around her becoming streaks of silver and white in endless darkness, until she quickly returned to the bottom of the Mundus Pit she had previously descended. She then ascended and departed the Underworld.


[hider=Summary]
Beyre travels to the Underworld and encounters various Umati until she eventually reaches the Tower of Aatu where she meets Umaya. Beyre becomes frustrated with their conversation and quickly departs, leaving the Underworld afterwards.

0 MA was expended.
[/hider]