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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray]Ordai’el consumed most of the island it sat upon, the only other landmarks there were the mountains, and the shrines that found their home in the forest leading up to it. The docks were massive, but beyond a few warehouses and gatehouses, there wasn’t anything one could call valuable architecture. On an island not too far away from Ordai’el, a new city had popped up in the wake of Ordai’el’s fall. It was dubbed Tornika. Most of it was off limits to anyone not within the Holy Order, but it did have numerous inns, eateries, and places of worship that anyone could attend. Yet, the crowning jewel of Tornika was a structure made entirely of crystal and starlight colored metal. No matter how the light hit it, even during a stormy day, it had an ethereal glow to it. And on a day like today, where the wind erupted from the sea and threw salt in the eyes of all that walked down those polished roads, it had an undulating glimmer to it. Like it was submerged into the deep well of water. 

The structure was called the Radiant Gate, and most days it was dormant. Today it lit up, crackled, and hummed with intense magic. Many people gathered outside, looking at the volatile illumination that poured from the Radiant Gate. The conversations went from fevered and loud to hushed as the clouds themselves opened. A bolt of light shot upwards into the sky above and tore into the horizon like a festering wound—a virulent green bathing the crowd before everything calmed.

A priest of the Holy Order pushed open the heavy, metal doors. He spoke to his fellow mages and knights as they exited the dome shaped structure of the Radiant Gate. They all had a relaxed tone as if this entire situation was a part of their daily grind. The crowd looked onwards in anticipation. A knight came to the forefront of the group and waved them away. “It was successful. Another group was transported to Ordai’el. Not that it matters. Go back to wherever you’re staying. We’re done here.” 

“Where’s the Empress?” Someone in the crowd called out.

The knight shrugged. “She don’t come to these send offs anymore. Her Holiness has much larger issues to attend to. She should be coming to Tornika here in a week or so—you can hear those words from the mouth of the divine herself. Now, like I—”

A blood curdling scream ruptured through the crowd. A woman pointed past the knight and to one of his colleagues. He turned in enough time to see his stomach distend and explode like a pustule. The liquid didn’t get on him, but it did a few of the other priests, and they started screaming in pain. One’s skin started sloughing off at a tremendous rate. The others began to scab over with flat gray skin until it consumed him in its entirety. Another found arachnid like appendages bursting from their eyes. They started to flee from the group. The knight pulled out his sword and summoned the roiling fire from within him. The blade caught ablaze before he charged at the ones before him.

Hours later… the knight stared at a pyre of nearly fifty bodies of all races. The flames roiled before them, and the black smoke touched the sky. He, along with a healer of Wether, were the only two that weren’t infected by the time it was over. She vomited so many times in the interim, though. It had almost become commonplace for her to heave out brackish, yellow bile every time she had to look at the corpses. “What do you think that was?” she asked. “I’ve participated in dozens of these. That’s… never happened before. Did we do something wrong?”

The knight frowned. He didn’t know. “I think the only thing wrong is that place—Ordai’el.”

The healer straightened herself. Her usually dark skin looked pale and clammy, and there was a tinge of nauseating green around her eyes. “I don’t imagine the Empress will want to open that connection again for a while.”

“If Her Holiness is smart, she’ll never open it again.”

[hr]
One moment they’d been in the glistening dome of the Radiant Gate. The thrum of magic around them was thick and palpable. Then there’d been a sheer, blinding white and the whole scene dissolved around them. Naenia swore that she saw the entirety of Goan underneath them before her feet found purchase on the ground again. It went from flat, shiny slabs to reddish-gray dust. At their landing, a massive cloud of dirt rose around them. Naenia coughed wildly before the dust settled and their surroundings became evident.

They were in a gate yard of sorts. Behind them was an archway that led out and into the surrounding city of Ordai’el. The left and right of them was the curved inner yard that encircled the Holy Order’s tower, boxed in by a tall, white wall. The tower was where the order convened. Naenia had been there a few times. She hadn’t been allowed into the depths of it, but she’d seen the city from the top. It expanded out from the tower in rings of importance, each walled off, before the massive outer wall kept everything inside. A river ran around the periphery, pale blue and manmade. Usually, if the rings weren’t filled with white, gray, and pale blue houses there were large swaths of greenery. Around them, in the innermost ring, the ground was dead. 

If Naenia remembered correctly, this was usually known as the market. There were stalls lining each side. Yet, they’d fallen into heavy disrepair. Their vibrant banners either faded or stained by some dark ichor. The polished stone walkways that ran between the stalls and fed into the tower, proper, were dull and crumbling. Still, one could make it out easily enough to tell where they needed to go. If Naenia squinted, she could see the grand entrance to the Holy Order’s tower. It was open. She turned the archway behind her, the portcullis fully risen and rusted into place. Yet, a shiver ran down her spine at the thought of walking through there. It didn’t help that written in Trade Speak were the words “DO NOT CROSS.” 

She tried to see why, staring into the ring of houses after that. There didn’t seem to be much change, really. The ground was still dead. The buildings were crumbling and stained. Yet, there were a few figures standing amongst it all. Naenia thought twice about lifting her hand to wave, as she noticed they did not move. They didn’t even seem to be breathing. She took a few steps away from the entrance and moved towards the inside of the ring. 

A grinding noise erupted into the eerie silence of the courtyard about that time. She turned and watched as a fountain, something that used to be quite splendid, pushed out a mucous brown substance from its jets. It fell into the brackish pools with a sickening “glurgh,” before the grinding stopped. It seemed so surreal that it was still on a timer after all these years. 

Naenia ran a hand through her short brown hair before she turned to the group. Her eyes fell over each of the members. Right, they weren’t much to look at, but what did she expect? This venture was viewed as fruitless at this point. Many people would say that Ordai’el was a lost cause and that Goan would do well to forget it. 

[color=#804d4d]“I know we really didn’t have time for introductions, earlier. My name is Naenia Blackwell, a priest of Dhrobris. I’ve been here before but—”[/color] she trailed off as her vision finally rose to the sky above. Red clouds raced across a dark black sky. There were no stars or suns or moons in the sky. Just an empty, black void.
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