The Primordial Record

Chapter 715 Lament's Fall

Rowan extended his consciousness and the first thing he noticed was their elevation which had drastically increased from thirty miles in the air to a stunning ninety-five miles upwards.

Trion was a massive planet and its atmosphere extended for thousands of miles, but for those below Earth god they could hardly fly up to a thousand miles due to various restrictions, and flying below three hundred miles was the norm.

The reason for the drastic increase in elevation was soon shown when the sound of weeping flooded the Sand Line. Before now an announcement had been made to the millions of tradesmen here about the dangers of every one of these special zones they would be passing and the special measures they should be taking to curb these dangers or, if impossible, reduce the effects.

In the case of this special danger zone they were flying over, everyone below the second Great Circle was sternly ordered to cover their eyes and block their ears until they passed this zone, and they must be conscious because the dangers of this area were worse for those that were sleeping or unconscious.

This place was called Lament Falls.

Below the passing multiple Sand Lines was an inverted waterfall made from ghostly apparitions that covered a five thousand miles radius. Passing through this place would take thirty minutes, and it was one of the most dangerous regions in all of Trion.

From deep below the ground, a powerful force was thrusting ghostly apparitions tens of miles into the air, with so much force that the sound created from their ascent would drive you mad as the wind tore through their ghostly forms like fingernails on a chalkboard.

These apparitions were seemingly endless and they turned the world below to a share of gray and green, some of them were as small as mice and others were bigger than buildings, although they were all vaguely humanoid in shape.

When they reached the height of their ascent as the force that trusted them away from the ground diminished, they would spread out like a cloud and slowly began to fall to the earth, and from afar this scene resembled a hellish waterfall that was turned upside down.

The ghostly apparitions were silent, the only sound emerging from their bodies was the air passing through them, their faces were the faces of the dead, and it changed to fit the person who was looking at them.

The sound was a lure, and if you allow it to enter your mind, your eyes would be forced to find its source, and indeed you will find it… You will find those you have lost, and in your relief, you will be driven mad.

It was no mistake that thousands come to this place every day to find solace in death. The lost, seeking one final moment of peace.

A young boy could see the face of his dead mother, and the sound of the air passing through their bodies would be her sweet voice as she called for him.

A young wife would see the face of her husband, who was sent to the battlefield, and every evening she went to the door waiting for his return, and she waited and waited until her hair turned gray, but now she could see him smiling, hear his booming laughter… oh how she missed her love.

A girl would hear the call of her father…

The deaf for the first time would hear the sound of music…

The blind would see…

Although the warning was given to the caravan, thousands of people still lost their lives, as they walked to the edge of the Sand Line and let themselves fall seventy miles to the ground, their faces were smiling, and their hearts were happy.

Rowan looked and he did not see the ones he loved, he only saw the ones he had killed. Billions and billions of faces, they all looked at him and suddenly their cries went silent.

"Welcome home," He heard them say, "Do you glory in the work of your hands or do you fear it?"

Rowan looked away disinterested, the power of this place did not interest him for it was too limited, they showed him only the vision of the dead on Jarkarr, he had killed far more than this, and if they wanted to judge him, they needed to be capable.

It was so that a stunning event occurred, as the Lament Falls, for the first time in a million years went silent. There were fifty Sand Lines that were currently passing through this place, all together holding more than eight hundred million people, and normally the expected death rate even with all the precautions through this field of death was expected to be in the hundreds of thousands.

Yet barely five thousand had died before the entirety of Lament Falls went silent, and a chill went through the hearts of millions of people as they went to the edge and looked down.

All the ghostly faces were raised to the skies, and they were all weeping. Their cries were silent, but even a child would recognize one emotion inside all of them.

It was fear.

This was supposed to be a journey that would bring happiness and a time for celebration for all of Trion, a new Emperor would grant miracles to the people, and for a thousand years it was expected that there would be no taxes or other social responsibilities tasked to the citizens.

At the capital, the citizens would have one chance to see the glory of the gods so close to the earth, and it would be a story they would narrate to their descendants for thousands of years.

Now a feeling of disquietness had seized the hearts of millions of people. It was the fear of the unknown.

It was at this time that Circe woke up, and before she could move, information began to blast into her consciousness at lightning speed.

She held her head and moaned a bit in pain before she adjusted to the strain, and she settled in a cross-legged position, hovering in the air.

With every moment that passed, Rowan was downloading tons of information into her mind, everything she would need to become a goddess.

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