The Lost Fable: Sin
The Sleepless One
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This is part 2 of 3 of Oz and Salem's revised backstory.
The Lost Fable: Sin
Death is inevitable. From peasant to prince, death comes for us all. Many will fight it. Some will embrace it. But all will succumb to it.
When death came for Ozma, he fought with all his heart. The illness that gripped him sapped the very lifeforce from his body but he still held on, bolstered by his purpose and his love. He weakened and withered, but continued with his works. Even as his eyesight failed and his breath grew labored, he quested across the world, slaying monsters and protecting the innocent. When his mind began to fail him, he still remembered the love of his life and cherished her until his last breath.
For Salem, to watch the man who had freed her and given her purpose be reduced to a shell of himself was nothing more than torture. She incessantly searched for cures to Ozma's mysterious condition, even as her husband insisted on continuing their adventures. With every failure, the despair in her heart grew. Salem, for all her power, could not save the man she loved.
And when Ozma finally died, the despair overtook her.
When the news of Ozma's death spread, nations across the world declared days of mourning. They could do no less for one of the greatest heroes of an age. The Order of Light presided over his funeral, carrying his body to be interred in the tombs of its heroes. The lines of mourners who came to pay their respects stretched for miles. Kings and Empresses gave speeches praising his great acts of service. Archmages and High Priests lauded his skill and piety. His fellow Paladins praised his valor and might.
And Salem said nothing at all.
When the procession ended, and Ozma's body was finally laid to rest in his tomb, Salem remained. The widow stood vigil in front of her husband's grave for the entire night and when morning came, she had vanished.
The world may have accepted Ozma's passing but she would not.
In the years that followed, sightings of the Sorceress would be reported all across the realms. Sometimes in the company of great scholars and wizards, other times in places of great tragedy and woe. For decades, Salem collected and studied every scrap of magic she could acquire, much of it esoteric and forbidden, all in the pursuit of singular goal: the resurrection of Ozma. Daemonic cults, necromantic cadres, and covens of hags and witches found themselves attacked by a lone woman garbed in mourning clothes, who would strike without mercy to steal their lore and torture them for their secrets. Delving into the darkness wrought a terrible price on Salem, bringing her closer to insanity as she witnessed things no mortal was meant to comprehend. But the throes of madness only aided her quest, enabling her to craft an abhorrent ritual, one that would reach beyond death to the place that all souls went and drag one back to the mortal realm.
After years of research and preparation, Salem was finally ready. On a moonless winter night, in a remote corner of the world, the greatest Sorceress who ever lived sacrificed an innocent man and brought doom upon all the world.
Using the corpse of her husband, stolen from his tomb, as a focus, Salem followed the departing soul by tearing at the edges of reality to enter the Beyond. Black ichor, bleeding from the wounds carved into the very fabric of existence, drenched her body, but she yet persevered. The Sorceress could feel the soul of her beloved just out of reach, and with one final exertion, she grasped his spirit and returned to the material plane. Gently, she bound Ozma's soul in ethereal chains and placed it within the vessel she had prepared: a living man whose mind she had broken. The Wizard lived once more.
Salem had done it. She had defied the natural order of the world and brought her soulmate back from the dead but she was not unscathed by the experience. Her skin and hair faded to a chalky white and her irises glowed a baleful red within black sclera. She could feel echoes of anger and hate and pain from other humans, and compulsion drew her towards them, to hunt them down and sink her teeth and claws into their flesh. These strange urges distrubed Salem, and she locked them away. None of that mattered, now that the love of her life had returned.
When Ozma awoke, he was shocked to find he had returned to the land of the living. Any qualms about the matter were forgotten upon seeing Salem, who claimed his return had been a miracle, her changed appearance a small price to pay for his life. The two began to rebuild their lives, finally taking the time to start the family they had always wanted. They settled in a quiet town near Ozma's own birthplace, where Salem bore her husband four daughters, who were doted on by their parents from the moment they were born.
The first consequences of Salem's sin against reality became apparent in the decades that followed. They were small things at first, merely strange shadowy animals seen at the edges of the civilized world. But soon stories of vicious shadow monsters with hateful red eyes spread across the realms. Of how entire villages and towns disappeared, devoured by what many were now calling the Creatures of Grimm.
Ozma grew concerned upon hearing these tales, the heroic spirit within him demanding that he intercede. But Salem reminded him that he no longer possessed the vigor of his youth and owed a responsibility to his wife and children. And so, the old hero stayed his hand, content to let a new generation of champions go forth to confront this threat. Unaware of the lies that now ensnared him and the tremendous cost of his resurrection.
But the truth always comes to light...
The Lost Fable: Sin
Death is inevitable. From peasant to prince, death comes for us all. Many will fight it. Some will embrace it. But all will succumb to it.
When death came for Ozma, he fought with all his heart. The illness that gripped him sapped the very lifeforce from his body but he still held on, bolstered by his purpose and his love. He weakened and withered, but continued with his works. Even as his eyesight failed and his breath grew labored, he quested across the world, slaying monsters and protecting the innocent. When his mind began to fail him, he still remembered the love of his life and cherished her until his last breath.
For Salem, to watch the man who had freed her and given her purpose be reduced to a shell of himself was nothing more than torture. She incessantly searched for cures to Ozma's mysterious condition, even as her husband insisted on continuing their adventures. With every failure, the despair in her heart grew. Salem, for all her power, could not save the man she loved.
And when Ozma finally died, the despair overtook her.
When the news of Ozma's death spread, nations across the world declared days of mourning. They could do no less for one of the greatest heroes of an age. The Order of Light presided over his funeral, carrying his body to be interred in the tombs of its heroes. The lines of mourners who came to pay their respects stretched for miles. Kings and Empresses gave speeches praising his great acts of service. Archmages and High Priests lauded his skill and piety. His fellow Paladins praised his valor and might.
And Salem said nothing at all.
When the procession ended, and Ozma's body was finally laid to rest in his tomb, Salem remained. The widow stood vigil in front of her husband's grave for the entire night and when morning came, she had vanished.
The world may have accepted Ozma's passing but she would not.
In the years that followed, sightings of the Sorceress would be reported all across the realms. Sometimes in the company of great scholars and wizards, other times in places of great tragedy and woe. For decades, Salem collected and studied every scrap of magic she could acquire, much of it esoteric and forbidden, all in the pursuit of singular goal: the resurrection of Ozma. Daemonic cults, necromantic cadres, and covens of hags and witches found themselves attacked by a lone woman garbed in mourning clothes, who would strike without mercy to steal their lore and torture them for their secrets. Delving into the darkness wrought a terrible price on Salem, bringing her closer to insanity as she witnessed things no mortal was meant to comprehend. But the throes of madness only aided her quest, enabling her to craft an abhorrent ritual, one that would reach beyond death to the place that all souls went and drag one back to the mortal realm.
After years of research and preparation, Salem was finally ready. On a moonless winter night, in a remote corner of the world, the greatest Sorceress who ever lived sacrificed an innocent man and brought doom upon all the world.
Using the corpse of her husband, stolen from his tomb, as a focus, Salem followed the departing soul by tearing at the edges of reality to enter the Beyond. Black ichor, bleeding from the wounds carved into the very fabric of existence, drenched her body, but she yet persevered. The Sorceress could feel the soul of her beloved just out of reach, and with one final exertion, she grasped his spirit and returned to the material plane. Gently, she bound Ozma's soul in ethereal chains and placed it within the vessel she had prepared: a living man whose mind she had broken. The Wizard lived once more.
Salem had done it. She had defied the natural order of the world and brought her soulmate back from the dead but she was not unscathed by the experience. Her skin and hair faded to a chalky white and her irises glowed a baleful red within black sclera. She could feel echoes of anger and hate and pain from other humans, and compulsion drew her towards them, to hunt them down and sink her teeth and claws into their flesh. These strange urges distrubed Salem, and she locked them away. None of that mattered, now that the love of her life had returned.
When Ozma awoke, he was shocked to find he had returned to the land of the living. Any qualms about the matter were forgotten upon seeing Salem, who claimed his return had been a miracle, her changed appearance a small price to pay for his life. The two began to rebuild their lives, finally taking the time to start the family they had always wanted. They settled in a quiet town near Ozma's own birthplace, where Salem bore her husband four daughters, who were doted on by their parents from the moment they were born.
The first consequences of Salem's sin against reality became apparent in the decades that followed. They were small things at first, merely strange shadowy animals seen at the edges of the civilized world. But soon stories of vicious shadow monsters with hateful red eyes spread across the realms. Of how entire villages and towns disappeared, devoured by what many were now calling the Creatures of Grimm.
Ozma grew concerned upon hearing these tales, the heroic spirit within him demanding that he intercede. But Salem reminded him that he no longer possessed the vigor of his youth and owed a responsibility to his wife and children. And so, the old hero stayed his hand, content to let a new generation of champions go forth to confront this threat. Unaware of the lies that now ensnared him and the tremendous cost of his resurrection.
But the truth always comes to light...
