The Daughters of Samael
Ennui kicks her feet through the snow at the base of the temple. High above, elevated above much of Rennes, the temple beckons. Its grand appearance demands attention from most vantage points across the city. Its open front is adorned with towering columns sculpted from solid black marble, rising gracefully to support the pediment that crowns the structure. At the very front stand two statues, each of them much like Samael in appearance. The details of each piece embellish his features, giving him a beauty contrary to his hellish nature.
Copper braziers line the stairs, each flickering with a blue flame that casts strange shadows across the temple’s façade. The glow dances across the faces of the stony Samaels, their eyes seeming to flicker with life as the light touches them.
As Ennui strides up the long stairs, her heavy boots thud against the cool marble. Her mind can only focus so much on the dramatic architecture. Instead, her thoughts are preoccupied with the visions Reisa’s has ‘gifted’ her.
The cavernous temple seems to reach up endlessly, with ceilings that rise into shadows. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries depicting both horrifying devils and ethereal angelic beings, locked in an endless war. As she takes her first step in the open-faced temple, a devilkin approaches her, dressed in a silk shift. The devilkin’s gaze pierces through Ennui, scrutinizing every feature with a disconcerting glare. “Daughter, what brings you to the sanctuary of Samael on this night?” Her words are filled with curiosity and perhaps a hint of suspicion.
Ennui meets her gaze steadily, the corners of her mouth lifting in a slight, knowing smirk. “I seek knowledge,” she replies simply, forcing her voice to be as firm as the marble under her feet. “And perhaps… answers.”
The devilkin tilts her head only slightly, strands of silver hair slipping over her shoulder. “Many come seeking both, few leave with either. What makes you think—”
Before she can finish, the sound of footsteps echo through the temple hall, drawing their attention to a figure emerging from the darkness. As the figure approaches, the braziers flicker at her approach, illuminating her features—broad shoulders draped in a dark cloak, and eyes as black as pitch.
The woman stops a few feet away. Both Ennui and the devilkin remain still. She glances at Ennui with a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention to the devilkin. “Leave us,” she commands, her voice deep and sharp.
The devilkin bows deeply and retreats in silence, her silk shift whispering against the marble floor. Now alone with Ennui, the woman’s gaze softens slightly. “I am Delilah, a guardian of this temple.”
“Well, Delilah,” Ennui grumbles. “I’m told this is where the daughters of Samael gather.”
“Right you are,” Delilah responds, “though I know all 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? Shall I call him? I just brought him back.”
“Ah.” Delilah snorts. “You’re that daughter.”
“Oh, good. So you’ve heard of me?” Ennui teases, her voice filled with sarcasm. “Thank the gods for something, I guess.”
Delilah’s smirk is sharp, a flicker of amusement crossing her features. “I have heard of you, yes. It’s hard not to when chaos trails in your wake.” Her arms cross over her chest, the cloak falling slightly to reveal the ornate scaled armor beneath. “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 are not for the ill-prepared.”
Ennui steps forward, her confidence undiminished. “I’m seeking knowledge about fate…. I was told once there is a seer here, a prophet of sorts. Nyx? At least I believe that is what her name is.”
Delilah studies Ennui for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Yes, Nyx is here. She stays in the temple’s sanctum. But I must warn you, her visions are potent and often… unsettling. Not all truths are palatable to those who seek them.” Her gaze drifts back to the darkened corridor leading away from the main hall. “Are you certain this is your desire?”
Ennui follows her gaze, her curiosity piqued. She swallows the knot of unease in her throat. With a flick of her wrist, she motions for Delilah to continue. “Lead the way. I’ve dealt with far worse than ‘unsettling truths.’ Besides, I want to know if there is any merit to this nonsense.”
Delilah steps forward, her pace brisk. “Follow close,” she instructs as she leads Ennui down the corridor. The air grows warmer the deeper they descend into the temple, the only light provided by sporadic torches flickering against the marble walls. The silence is deafening, broken only by the click of their boots. The passage narrows and the walls close in, giving the sensation that the temple itself is shrinking around them.
They finally reach a heavy, ornate door carved with Samael’s sigil. The sigil seems to twist and writhe under her gaze. Delilah pauses, her hand resting on the handle. “Daughter, one more warning. If you so much as harm Nyx. Your life is forfeit.”
Ennui scoffs as she waits beside her, meeting Delilah’s gaze with a sideways glance. “You think I’d harm one of my sisters?”
Delilah chokes out a laugh. “Nyx is special. She has birthed a dozen of Samael’s daughters. She is mother to many of your kind.” She shoves the door open.
Ennui feels the bile rise in her throat. The thought of sharing an intimate moment with Samael disgusts her. The moments she was forced to speak with him for longer than necessary were enough to enrage her.
Inside, the room is dimly lit by clusters of candles that throw gentle light over the space. In the center, surrounded by piles of scrolls and an assortment of what Ennui would call junk, 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, a daughter of Samael. She seeks an understanding of fate.”
The seer rises from her seat, her lips twitching into a grin. There is a beauty about her that causes Ennui to pause. Her hair cascades down her cheeks in dark ringlets, her horns thrust up from her brow into sharp points, her skin is darker than Khimi’s and littered with silver freckles. “I am honored to finally meet you, Ennui.” After a moment, she settles back into her chair, her hands brushing over her swollen belly, her tail twists and writhes behind her. She continues, “You wish to understand if fate governs us? Or if we are merely adrift on the whims of chance?” A beat. Her eyebrow arches with sudden interest. “I believe I understand… you have glimpsed something, and wish to forget?”
A sense of unease rolls over Ennui as Nyx studies her. “Now that I know, I don’t wish to forget… even if it would be easier,” she says, taking the seat opposite her. “I need to know if my path is predetermined, if my actions have any meaning. Can I change what has already been written…?”
Nyx leans in slightly, resting her chin in her palm. She opens the leather-bound tome before her, flipping through the pages, disinterested. “The web of fate is difficult to decipher.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “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.” She then raises a hand, tracing fingers through the air, leaving behind a trail of wispy smoke. “One should consider carefully before peering too deeply into this abyss. But you already know this, don’t you?”
Ennui’s gaze hardens, her brow pinches tight. She leans forward, the light from the candles flickering over her. “I must know,” she insists, her voice steady despite Nyx’s warnings. “I’ve seen a glimpse. Someone gifted me, or perhaps cursed me, with visions. Seeing what awaits us on this journey. I must know if it can be undone, and if so, how?”
Nyx returns to the book, flipping through the pages, then for a brief moment, the room seems to freeze, the candles cease their flickering. A subtle shift occurs as Nyx leans forward. “You’ve met one of the three. Tell me, was it the maiden? No, let us not dwell on that. You have been blessed, Ennui. You have been given a gift by the very ones who act as hands.” she whispers solemnly.
“What do you mean? The three?” Ennui whispers, massaging her brow. “What’re you even saying?”
Nyx draws in a deep breath. “Child…” She pauses as if to contemplate how to phrase what comes next. “What do you know of seers?”
Ennui tries to meet Nyx’s blind gaze head on. “Nothing.”
“Seers are those who have been granted the ability to see the very weaves of our reality. They have glimpsed, or been given glimpses of what the fates have sewn. In some cultures, people believe them to have spoken to the fates themselves in their dreams. However, the truth is a bit more complex… the fates themselves exist on Talmus, their work mysterious and important. All it takes for a seer to be born… is to encounter one of the three. Three aspects of the same entity.”
“What are you saying?” Ennui grumbles.
“Perhaps we should continue our prior conversation.” Nyx sighs and hangs her head. “Tell me. This gift you speak—do you fear it? Or do you mean to meet it head on? Speak truthfully, else there is naught to be done.”
Ennui takes a moment to collect herself before answering. Her hands clench on the arm of her chair. “It terrifies me,” she admits, “but I can’t afford to wait for this vision to happen. If there’s a chance, any chance to alter what’s been foreseen, then I need to stop it. I must.”
Nyx nods slowly. “To seek change is to challenge the very threads the fates have laid out,” she murmurs. “But it is not impossible. There is no doubt in my mind you were given this vision to prepare you, to aid you.” She reaches out and picks up a small, wooden box on the desk. Opening it, she removes a sachet tosses it into the censer. The room fills with the overpowering fragrance of frankincense, and the smoke swirls into patterns that almost take shape before dissipating into nothing.
“A vision is only the beginning.” Nyx settles back into her chair, resting her hands over her abdomen. “Understanding it, weaving through its possibilities, requires more than courage—it demands wisdom, often sacrifice. If you want to change fate, you’ll need to understand that altering one thread might unravel hundreds more. To save one life, you may need to cull thousands.”
Ennui’s heart pounds in her chest. “How do I even begin to alter this vision?”
Nyx’s expression seems burdened by her question. “You begin by understanding that every action, every decision you make is part of something larger. Observe the outcomes of your choices, understand their impacts.” She pauses, allowing the words to sink in before continuing. “Only then can you truly understand.”
“You haven’t told me anything… give me solutions! Give me answers! Anything… tell me what the hells to do!”
Nyx only laughs, her blindfolded eyes somehow managing to express empathy. “Sometimes, the path to understanding is in realizing how much you do not know,” she counsels gently. “Gaining wisdom is often a journey of a thousand steps. Trust that in time, your purpose will unfurl before you—I know it will… I have seen it, sister.”
Ennui exhales slowly, her frustration mounting. “So, just be patient?”
“For now,” Nyx confirms. “I expect once you reach death’s door, you’ll have your answers.”
“‘Death’s door?’” Ennui growls low in her throat.
Delilah clicks her tongue from the door in warning.
Ennui raises her hands in surrender. “Fine. Just tell me what the hells am I supposed to do until fate ‘unfurls’ for me?”
“Pretend. For many, that makes it easier,” Nyx suggests. “Pretend you are blind to it.”
“What I saw in these visions… was it real? Will it really come to be?”
The corners of Nyx’s lips twitch. “To put it simply, visions are not simple glimpses of what is to be; they are reflections of potentialities, current trajectories. Whether it becomes reality or not can depend on far too many factors—decisions, unforeseen events, even the intervention of the gods themselves.” 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 hundreds of paths branching from every moment. This conversation is no different.”
Ennui nods slowly, trying to understand Nyx’s words, but only feels more lost. “And what if I choose to fight against what I’ve seen? What if I try to alter that path?”
“If that is your prerogative,” Nyx replies, her voice steady, “then follow your desire. But know this: attempting to change a vision’s course might require great sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Ennui glances down at her hands, her tail thumping against her leg. “I understand sacrifice.”
Nyx’s expression softens. “I’ve seen many with wills as strong as yours. Do not let it be your downfall,” she says, reaching out to lightly touch Ennui’s arm in a gesture of solidarity. “We are sisters. Should you need me, I will always be here.”
Ennui nods and exhales sharply. “You have my thanks… I guess.”
Nyx nods, her blindfolded gaze still piercing. “Remember, the weave of fate is intricate and vast. Tread carefully, for each step alters the pattern.”
As Ennui is urged from her seat by Delilah, Nyx adds one last piece of advice, her voice echoing: “And keep close those who share your journey—friends can be the anchors that save us when the currents of destiny become impossible.”
Even more lost by the seer’s counsel, Ennui leaves the temple, escorted by Delilah. Out in the cool night air, the stars above glitter before her. She walks back through the dark streets of the city towards the tavern, each step quicker than the last.
What the blood fuck was that loon even saying? She grabs hold of her horns, releasing a frustrated growl. Pretend? Pretend!?