The Daughters of Samael
Ennui slowly approaches the temple which sits on an elevated platform. Its grand appearance demands attention from most vantage points across Rennes. Its open front is adorned with towering columns sculpted from solid black marble, which rise gracefully, supporting the pediment that crowns the structure. At the very front of the structure are two statues, each of them much like Samael in appearance. The delicate details of the pieces embellish his features, giving him an almost otherworldly beauty contrary to his hellish nature.
Braziers line the stairs, each flickering with an ethereal blue flame that casts eerie shadows across the temple’s façade and onto the faces of the stony Samaels, their eyes seeming to flicker with life with every subtle shift of light.
As Ennui strides up the long stairs, her heavy boots thudding against the cool marble, her mind is only partially on the dramatic architecture or the chilling sculptures. Her thoughts are preoccupied with Reisa’s visions.
The cavernous temple seems to reach up endlessly, with ceilings shrouded in shadows, creating an ominous atmosphere. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries depicting both horrifying devils and ethereal angelic beings, their vibrant colors and intricate designs catching the eye. The air inside the temple is heavy with the scent of incense, a blend of musk and spice that lingers in every corner. It is both alluring and cloying.
As she takes her first step in the open faced temple, a devilkin approaches her in a silk shift. The devilkin’s gaze pierces through Ennui, scrutinizing every feature with a disconcerting intensity. She finally speaks, her voice a smooth, haunting melody that seems to reverberate through the heavy air of the temple.
“Daughter of shadows, what brings you to the sanctuary of Samael on this night?” Her words are laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion, her eyes never wavering from Ennui’s.
Ennui meets her gaze steadily, the corners of her mouth lifting in a slight, knowing smirk. “I seek knowledge,” she replies simply, her voice as firm and resolute as the marble under her feet. “And perhaps… more.”
The devilkin tilts her head slightly, a strand of silver hair slipping over her shoulder. “Many come seeking both, few leave with either. What makes you think you will succeed where others have failed?”
Before Ennui can answer, the sound of footsteps echoes through the temple hall, drawing their attention to a figure emerging from the shadowed depths. As the figure approaches, the flicker of the braziers illuminates her features—broad shoulders draped in a cloak that seems to absorb the light around her, and eyes that glow with an inner fire.
The newcomer’s presence is commanding, and as she stops a few feet away, Ennui and the devilkin both feel the unmistakable air of power that clings to her like a second skin. She glances at Ennui with a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention to the devilkin. “Leave us,” she commands in a voice that brooks no argument.
The devilkin bows deeply and retreats silently, her silk shift whispering against the marble floor as she disappears into the shadows. Now alone with Ennui, the man’s gaze softens slightly. “I am Delilah, a guardian of this temple,” she introduces herself. Her voice is deep and resonant.
“Well, Delilah,” Ennui grumbles, “I am told this is where the daughters of Samael gather.”
“Right you are,” Delilah responds, “though I know all of the daughters and I do not recall your name.”
“I never gave my name,” she snips, “do you need to… check me off of a list or something? Or are my horns and tail not enough? Should I call him?”
Delilah snorts, “You’re that one.”
“Oh, so you have heard of me,” Ennui replies, her voice filled with sarcasm. “Thank the gods for something, I guess.”
Delilah’s smirk is sharp, a flicker of amusement in her otherwise stoic facade. “I have heard of you, yes. It’s hard not to when chaos trails in your wake like a shadow.” Her arms cross over her chest, the cloak falling slightly to reveal the ornate armor beneath, etched with silvered runes. “So, tell me,” she continues, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “What kind of knowledge are you seeking here? This temple holds many secrets, some of which could devour an ill-prepared mind.”
Ennui steps forward, her confidence undiminished by the guardian’s imposing demeanor. “I seeking answers about fate. I was told once there is a seer here, a prophet of sorts. Nyx.” Her voice holds a tone of defiance, as if challenging Delilah to deny her this quest.
Delilah studies Ennui for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Yes, Nyx resides here, deeper within the temple’s sanctum. But be warned, her visions are potent and often… unsettling. Not all truths are palatable, nor easy to carry.” Her gaze drifts towards a darkened corridor leading away from the main hall.
Ennui follows her gaze, her curiosity piqued yet an apprehensiveness blankets her. She swallows the knot of unease that forms in her throat. “Lead the way then. I have dealt with worse than unsettling truths. Besides, I just want to know if fate is real.”
Delilah steps forward, her movements fluid like a shadow slipping across moonlit ground. “Follow closely,” she instructs as she leads Ennui down the corridor. The air grows cooler as they descend deeper into the temple, the only light provided by sporadic torches flickering against the ancient stone walls. The silence is profound, broken only by their footsteps and the distant echo of dripping water. The passage narrows and the walls close in, giving the sensation that the temple itself is watching, breathing.
They finally reach a heavy, ornate door carved with symbols that seem to twist and move under Ennui’s gaze, causing a disquieting feeling inside of her. Delilah pauses, her hand resting on the cool metal of the door handle. “Daughter, if you so much as harm Nyx. Your life is forfeit,” she murmurs before pushing the door open.
“You think I’d harm one of my sisters?”
“Sisters?” Delilah laughs, “Nyx has birthed a dozen of Samael’s daughters. She is more of a mother to many of your kind.”
Ennui feels her shoulders tense at the thought of sharing an intimate moment with Samael. Even the short moments they spoke were enough to enrage her.
Inside, the room is dimly lit by clusters of candles that throw ghostly shadows against the walls. In the center, surrounded by piles of ancient scrolls and arcane artifacts, sits a woman roughly her own age. Her eyes are covered with a dark blindfold, but she turns her head towards them as if seeing them clearly.
“Nyx,” Delilah announces, “This is Ennui. She seeks knowledge about fate.”
The seer’s lips twitch into a faint smile as she extends her hand in greeting. “Welcome, sister of Samael,” her hands move over her pregnant stomach, her devilish tail twists and shakes behind her.
Nyx’s hair cascades down her cheeks in dark ringlets, while her horns thrust up from her brow into fine points, her skin is darker than Khimi’s and littered with freckles. There is a beauty about her that causes Ennui to pause.
Nyx’s voice is like the rustling of dry leaves, soft yet carrying an undercurrent of wisdom. “You wish to understand if fate governs us, or if we are merely adrift on the whims of chance?” Her question hangs in the air, dense with implications. “Or perhaps you have glimpsed at fate, and wish to forget?”
Ennui nods, her impatience tempered by the gravity she perceives in the blindfolded seer’s presence. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I need to know if my path is predetermined, or if I carve it with my actions. Or even change what has been written…”
Nyx leans back slightly as if considering the layers behind Ennui’s inquiry. Her fingers tap lightly on a leather-bound tome before her. “The web of fate is intricate,” she begins, her voice a thread weaving through the shadows of the room. “It is both predetermined and shaped by choices—yours and those around you. But knowing one’s destiny can be as much a curse as it is a blessing.”
Nyx’s fingers pause, the air thickens around them as she traces patterns in the air that shimmer faintly. “One should consider carefully before peering too deeply into this abyss. For some knowledge can never be unlearned, and the burden of fate is a heavy one to bear.”
Ennui’s gaze hardens, a mix of fear and determination settling into the creases of her face. She steps forward, the light from the candles flickering across her angular features. “I must know,” she insists, her voice steady despite Nyx’s warnings. “I’ve been given a glimpse. Someone gifted me, or perhaps cursed me, with viewing my friend’s future. Seeing what awaits us on this journey. I must know if it can be undone, and if so, how?”
Nyx’s blindfolded eyes remain unsettlingly perceptive as she processes Ennui’s words. For a brief moment, the room seems to hold its breath in anticipation. A subtle shift in the atmosphere occurs as Nyx unfolds her arms and leans forward, her fingers brushing against the scrolls and artifacts scattered before her.
“A vision, then,” Nyx whispers with a mixture of intrigue and solemnity. “Not all who dream are seers, but all seers dream. This gift you speak of—do you fear it, or do you wish to wield it?”
Ennui clenches her fists at her sides, the tension visible in her posture. “It terrifies me,” she admits, “but ignorance is a luxury I can no longer afford. If there’s a chance to alter what’s been foreseen, I need to seize it.”
Nyx nods slowly, understanding the depth of Ennui’s resolve. She gestures towards a small incense burner at the edge of the table, filling the room with a sweet, heavy scent that swirls in the air like mist. “To seek change is to challenge the very threads of existence,” she says, her voice now a soft murmur blending with the thickening smoke. “But it is not impossible.”
She reaches out and picks up a small, intricately carved box from among the artifacts. Opening it, she removes a handful of dried herbs and sprinkles them into the burner. The room fills with a deeper fragrance, and the smoke seems to thicken, swirling into patterns that almost make sense before dissipating into chaos.
“Seeing one’s fate is only the beginning,” Nyx continues. Her fingers dance over the items on her table, each movement precise and deliberate. “Understanding it, weaving through its possibilities, requires more than courage—it demands wisdom and often, sacrifice.”
Ennui watches intently, every sense heightened as the seer’s words carve through her apprehensions like a hot blade through butter.
“If you want to change fate, you’ll need to understand the forces that bind it, the threads that connect it, and the nodes where decisions create ripples across time and space.” Nyx’s hands move with a grace that belies her blindness, guiding Ennui’s focus to the pulsating patterns of smoke. “Each choice branches out into countless possibilities. To alter one thread might unravel many others.”
Ennui’s heart pounds in her chest, her mind racing with the gravity of Nyx’s teachings. “And how can I learn to manipulate these threads? How do I even begin?”
Nyx smiles, a cryptic expression that seems to know the burden of its knowledge. “You begin by understanding that every action, every decision you make is part of a larger tapestry. Start small. Observe the outcomes of your choices, understand their impacts.” She pauses, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. “Only then can you truly understand.”
“I… haven’t gained any answers from this.”
Nyx’s smile widens slightly, her blindfolded eyes somehow conveying empathy. “Sometimes, the path to understanding is in realizing how much you do not know,” she counsels gently. “Gaining true wisdom is often a journey of many steps, sometimes backtracking, and not merely arriving at quick answers.”
Ennui exhales slowly, the frustration mingling with revelation in her mind. “So, you’re telling me to be patient, to watch and learn from life itself?”
“Exactly,” Nyx confirms. “And more so, to engage with it actively. Choose your actions with awareness, feel their weight and measure their reach. Observe not just outcomes, but also the changes within yourself each choice brings. This is how seers refine their visions, and perhaps, how one might learn to influence fate.”
“What I saw in these visions… was it real? Will it really come to be?”
Nyx tilts her head slightly, the corners of her lips twitching with the complexity of the question. “Visions are not simple glimpses of what is to be; they are reflections of potentialities, intertwined with emotions and current trajectories. Whether it becomes reality or not can depend on so many factors—decisions, unforeseen events, even the intervention of others.”
She leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Your vision could very well be a true path. But remember, no future is set in stone. There are always multiple paths branching from every moment.”
Ennui nods slowly, absorbing Nyx’s words. Her mind swirls with thoughts of different futures, different choices. “And what if I choose to fight against what I’ve seen? What if I try to alter that path?”
“That is your prerogative,” Nyx replies, her voice steady and sure. “But know this: attempting to change a vision’s course might require great sacrifice.”
Ennui glances down at her hands, her tail thumps against her leg. “I’ll change it. I have to.”
Nyx’s expression softens, the lines of age and wisdom folding into a gentle, knowing smile. “Such determination, it is both your strength and your potential downfall. But it is admirable,” she says, reaching out to lightly touch Ennui’s arm in a gesture of solidarity. “We are sisters, Ennui. Should you need me, I will always be here.”
Ennui nods, “Though we have never met, you have my thanks, sister. I don’t understand yet, but I’ll learn. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Nyx nods, her blindfolded gaze still piercing in its intensity. “Remember, the weave of fate is intricate and vast. Tread carefully, for each step alters the pattern.”
As Ennui prepares to leave, the seer adds one last piece of advice, her voice a ghostly echo in the dimly lit room: “And keep close those who share your journey—friends can be the anchors that save us when the currents of destiny grow wild.”
Heart-fortified by the seer’s counsel, Ennui leaves the temple, escorted by Delilah. Out in the cool night air, the stars above glitter like myriad paths laid out before her, each one a trail of decisions and consequences yet to unfold. She walks back through the winding streets of the city towards where her companions are resting, each step is more determined than the last.
What the blood fuck was that loon even saying?