Chapter 4.23: A Fear of Heroes

“You’re my mother?”
The temple is deprived of all sound but his voice. It hasn’t been this quiet in here since they entered. Mero’s words lay heavy on all of them. His past has been haunting him for so long, not knowing anything about his previous life. And now, he sees his mother again, for the first time in this life. What does scare them is why she has appeared in his trial of fear and how she can be his mother without him even remembering her.
“Yes, I am. There are many questions for me to answer, but I don’t have much time.”
Even though her loud voice is almost ear-splitting and her message is troublesome, it’s still very pleasant for him to finally hear her, let alone see her.
“We need to talk about your father”, she says with a stern face. “After you died, he was devastated and driven even more mad than that beautiful man already was. I fear he has become a danger to himself.”
Before she can continue with anything else, Mero interrupts her, not able to wait a second longer to get some answers on his burning questions.
“How did I die? What caused it? Was it natural or-”
His mother raises her hand and he immediately stops speaking. She’s not casting any spell or whatsoever. He reacts instinctively. Even though his mind doesn’t recall her, his soul cleary does in some way.
“I’m not going to tell you.”
The golden flames behind her mask burn brighter. Everyone but Mero covers their eyes to stop the stinging pain.
“What?” He sounds astonished. “Why not? You and father are probably the only people who can answer these questions for me.”
She nods. He can’t see the expression on her face, but based on that he can hear her giggling, he guesses she looks happy.
“That’s the point”, she replies. “I’m not here to help you. I’m the manifestation of what you fear the most. What you fear, my boy, are the answers you’ll never get and the answers that will make everything worse. And I’m going to provide those.”
She flaps her wings and the black smoke swirls around her and her son. It mixes with her radiant presence, creating a spectacle of dark and light.
“I want to share the horrid part of the legend, the part about Iavolof the Mad they don’t tell. I think Oanoa doesn’t even know it. You can find your father here in Abaddon. There’s a portal to his own pocket plane. He created it right after his eight child was born. He thought himself so powerful he could create his own school of magic, create his own spells that would manipulate the fabric of reality around him. It attracted the attention of a lot of spellcasters, both the ones with good and bad intent. He was able to ward the entrance of his plane, preventing he would be disturbed, but there was a creature that proved too cunning for even your father. That monster is part of something worse than the archangels of the Silver Circle, Mero, and your father trapped it in his pocket plane. After he discovered the being’s presence, he decided to make his own pocket plane a jail for him. Keeping the wretched being in there, stopping it from wreaking havoc across Abaddon, is costing him his sanity and vitality. I don’t even know if he will be alive by the time you find him.”
She pauses for dramatic effect, observing in silence how her son is going to react. His emotions however seem soothed.
“You can’t know these things”, Mero replies. “How would a fihyr tap into my fear and give me answers it couldn’t know? It can’t abstract these thoughts from me. I didn’t even know my father was keeping something imprisoned. I believe you are telling me lies, with the sole purpose of scaring me off.”
The apparition of his mother pulls off her mask. The raging look on her face gets lost in her golden brilliance, paling every other colour in the temple. The intensity almost physically burns him and Mero closes his eyes this time as well.
“You are mistaken, son.” Her voice grows louder. “Iavolof was already turning into a maddened husk when you met him last time. You couldn’t help him then and I doubt you will reach him in time to even do anything but weep at his withered remains. Or maybe he will be alive. Yes, he probably has a spell or artefact to prevent him from dying. His body might not die, but that doesn’t mean his mind won’t age and deteriorate. You might be the only one that can reach him.”
She puts the mask for her face again. The temple cools down and darkness grows.
“And when you find him and see how mad the legendary sorcerer truly is, you’ll remember what you learned the last time you spoke to him. You can be the only one to put him down and stop his suffering. But… who truly knows? You don’t anymore, but that was my point. Your mind and memories are so clouded by magic, because I wanted them to be. I was the one to cast that spell. I made you forget.”