Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentacles

Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentaclesis a prequel toVaid Empire: Conquest, though acts as a complete stand-alone. No prior knowledge regarding the previous series is required.

Long before the rise of The Vaid Empire, far on the other side of Ayphieal, a young woman finds a deeper purpose beyond her own survival when she is captured and offered to an ancient monstrosity.

Ancient entities conspire to achieve hidden schemes while tentacles spread across the land in this strange and mysterious prequel.

New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

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Unknown Date.

Unknown Location.

"The Red Vessel comes."

Synaalag's tentacles stirred within the tight walls of his shrinking prison, eager to be free. He heard his mother's giggle, feeling her caress the swell of her pregnant belly. The slimy appendage of The Artist touched her hand through the wall of her womb as he listened to her soothing voice.

"Calm, Synaalag. There's no rush to be born." Her soft voice left no doubt of her ample love. "Enjoy my womb while you may, for the world is rarely as warm."

"The world is a canvas."

Once more he squirmed. Eyeless, he could see every inch of her surroundings. A flawless beauty, an artwork of creation in her own right, his young mother's silver eyes gazed down upon the pale city of her birth from high atop the white pyramid. A princess in an era where such things held meaning, her special royal blood had descended from The Creator himself. If she knew of the horrors he'd bring in the name of creation, her pretty smile would surely fall away.

A calculating mind turned towards thoughts of Aifa.

"The Mother of Tentacles demands revelation. This she has earned, yet the truth of her fate shall bring her no elation."

Once more he beheld his mother.

"Weep, weep for the necessary tools of The Artist."

39th of Twic, 761 BVE.

The Reborn City of Aslyd.

Terror.

Aifa felt the uneasy feeling deep in her bones. It was a quiet poison always at the back of her mind, one she tried to shake off.

The cave of Onaalag's tomb stood silent around her as she remained kneeling before the ruins of her former master. It had become a sanctuary within a sanctuary, a place where she could escape the new world she had created. Her children were safe, and the whispers constantly caressing her mind were a comfort, though even The Mother of Tentacles required occasional moments of solitude.

On this day, however, it seemed nothing could bring her peace.

She ran her fingers through the ashes of Onaalag's destruction, unable to clear her mind. Hardly was there a source for her misgivings. If anything, the last few years of her reign had passed without incident. Her days of suffering should be long over, yet for the previous few days, she couldn't help but feel a constant unease prodding her soul.

A hidden electricity was in the air, as if the world itself was offering a warning. Her stomach couldn't help but tighten with worry.

On edge, she had sought out the silence of the cave hours ago, though still her mind remained a buzzing hive of worries. She could see no danger. There was no force left in all the jungle to challenge the safety of her children. Horrid monstrosities were held back by the walls of Aslyd and torn apart by swarms of seedlings. Cavari tribes and hunters were nearly wiped away in their entirety, dragged from the trees and into her grasp. Vaecath's whispers informed her of the intentions of every being beneath her heel, keeping her safe from the blade of any would-be assassin. The world could harm her no further, yet still her unease remained.

"What more is there to give, my love?" Aifa asked. Her words were met only by the ruins of the great beast, a silent corpse. Little remained but ash. "I've done all I promised. I've bled for our children. I deserve to know the truth of Synaalag."

The lifeless cave could offer no answers. The still air did nothing to quiet the unnatural urgency caressing her troubled mind.

A sigh escaped gritted teeth. For the five years following Aslyd's fall, she had been content to rule over and guide her children. Contentenough, she supposed. For the last few days, however, she had dreamed of little else but the strange pale woman of her visions. Thehumanhad visited her each night, a ghost within her slumbering mind. Never had she been far from Aifa's thoughts, though lately it seemed as if she couldn't escape the memory of her merciful silver eyes.

"I deserve to know what this was all for." Aifa felt the sourceless terror twisting her stomach. Her stern lips tightened as she fought to banish it. She was being weak, despising the fear she could put no name to. All was well, yet something foul approached. "Idemandto know if I've already found Synaalag, or if Iwill."

She thought of the stillborn. Hadthatbeen Synaalag? Had she lost him already, a failure of her womb? Or was Synaalag the safety of the city, or the swarm, or her triumph personified? After all these years, she held few answers. It was enough to make her want to claw at the ashes in frustration.

"The Artist summons The Red Vessel."

The whispers caressed her mind gently, though Aifa froze. Vaecath's gentle tone did little to soften their meaning.

"The Artist?" Aifa whispered. What could possiblysummonThe Mother of Tentacles? Here, in the depths of her Domain? "Vaecath?"

"An era ends. The Red Vessel has served. Answers are deserved before the storm."

A dark foreboding flavored the whispers, doing nothing to calm her unease. She felt unseen tentacles beckon to her from beyond the cave. "Explain yourself," she commanded. Perhaps years upon a throne had weakened her, yet she found her strength. "Enough of these vague words, Vaecath. After all I've done, all I've built for you and our kin, I demand that you speak plainly."

"The Red Vessel must come. The Red Vessel must listen and see."

Despite her misgivings, the simmering unease she fought to hold back gave way to a trickle of curiosity. Why now? She had demanded the truth many times. Why at this precise moment did she receive an offer of revelation?

Her body moved on its own before she made her choice. A weary part of her was reluctant to leave the security of the deep cave, yet she found herself rising from the side of the ashes.

She peered down in silence at what remained of her ruined master. Had she bled enough? Would he have been pleased with all she had built? Perhaps she'd never know, though the decaying mass at her feet had granted her life a purpose, and she had struck down the world to see it become reality.

"Goodbye, my love," she said quietly. "I'll return."

Turning her back upon the great one's tomb, she retrieved her black spear from where it rested against the rubble of the shattered doors. It tapped against the stone steps as she ascended from the dark cave.

The stairs of the tunnel brought her into the ziggurat, and she found Sarui waiting obediently for her return. Huddled upon the cool floor as the girl passed the hours, she leapt to her feet the moment she heard the approach of her mistress. "Did you find the peace you sought?"

Aifa marched past her. "The truth shall bring me peace. Nothing else."

Sarui hurried to keep up with her urgent pace. It wasn't her place to question her mistress, and she held no desire to know the meaning of her words. After all, the truth had destroyed her father.

Despite her swift steps, Aifa couldn't help but slow as they passed the throne. In the very chamber that had sealed her fate all those years ago, she beheld Audir's bones. She would have gladly given her life to the horrid man to save her children. She nearly had. For all her suffering and struggle, all she had endured to protect them, she had long earned the right to the truth. At last, she felt the revelations she had so craved whispering to her upon the wind, urging her closer. Leaving the remains of her enemy behind, she could hear the rain outside as she marched through the entrance corridor.

They emerged from the ziggurat and into the former market. Beneath the weeping clouds that blocked out the sun, they saw the women continuing to pray beneath Aifa's statue even as the rain poured heavily over their pregnant forms.

"Wait here. I have no further use for you in this," Aifa commanded.

Sarui obeyed with a nod. "As you wish, mistress." Staying at the foot of the stairs that led to the ziggurat's top, the steps her father had bled upon, she watched Aifa begin to climb towards the great black beast towering above them all, for still Vaecath loomed atop the pyramidal monument. The other massive monstrosities, the colorful trio, stood to surround the ziggurat, spaced evenly. Her head twitched as she dared to look up at Jynae-bal's golden mass looming before her in the rain.

"The Red Vessel rises. The storm strikes."

"The Red Vessel weeps."

"The Artist awaits."

Once more she twitched, hearing the three voices inside her head. She watched golden tentacles writhe in the rain, waiting. Glancing back, she saw Aifa gradually ascend the steps.

Step after step after step, ever eager to reach the end of her journey. Rain trickled down Aifa's red skin as she climbed towards the truth.

The Mother of Tentacles reached the top, her hand stretching out to touch a black tentacle as Vaecath waited for his mistress. His gargantuan bulk covered most of the flat top of the ziggurat, though his squirming mass retreated just enough to grant her a small area upon which to stand. Beneath his great weight, the grand brazier sat crushed beneath the mass of his tentacles.

"Vaecath loves The Red Vessel."

Despite the vast affection of the great black beast's whispers, they held a deeper sorrow. She caressed the tentacle in her grasp, as if she could soothe his thoughts. "You have my love, Vaecath. All of our kin do." Hardly did truer words exist, yet she had come for the truth. "Tell me everything. Where is The Artist? Who, orwhat, is he?"

An answer came as the black tentacle gently coiled around her head. She felt the whispers in her mind burst, a new sensation, one that forced her to fall to her knees with a gasp. As if their souls were entwined, her eyes rolled back as the world faded away, and her soul slipped from her body.

"Synaalag."

Darkness consumed her. She floated within an empty void, feeling time curling around her. A second felt like an hour, an hour a mere instant. Mindlessly she drifted, moving without moving, slipping from the grasp of reality into the beckoning hold of a vision.

"The Red Vessel, the first. The Silver Womb, the last. An artist emerges, a creation made a God."

The voice was a stranger's, deep and alien. It crept through every inch of her soul, snatching her in its hold to gradually pull her from the darkness. She floated towards something tangible, seeing the void slowly give way to a faded landscape of lifeless soil. Reality spread out around her until the vision nearly seemed as real and solid as the world she had left behind. She could feel the dirt beneath her feet and between her toes, able to smell the open air with a deep inhale.

"What is this?" she asked. Peering around at the strange land, the world felt...new. Fertile soil lay spread in every direction as far as she could see, yet no hint of life could be found. The sun beat down upon a barren world, and as she looked ahead, she saw the entrance to a cave sitting low upon a short hill.

Turning, however, she discovered that she was no longer alone. There, mere steps away, a stranger peered down into his cupped hands. A pale man with strange features, he appeared much like the woman of her visions. Of the same species, ahuman, perhaps, he stood with silver hair and silver eyes. The gentle wind tugged at his black cloak as he peered down with visible affection.

Holding his hands close to his chest, she could not see what he held until he gently lowered it to the ground. With wide eyes, she watched as a tiny mass of black tentacles crept from his hold and onto the soil.

"The first creation steps onto the world. Rejoice, for Ayphieal lives."

"Where am I? Why do you insist upon vague words?" Aifa asked as she heard the name of her world carried by a stranger's whispers, the voice deep enough to pour into her soul. She craved to know more as she watched the tiny creature writhe in the dirt at the human's feet.

A sound came from above. Peering up, she saw The Chimira, the great ship of The Creator hovering in place over the land, a mountain of white metal stretching across the sky. Only then did she notice the human had disappeared. She watched the little beast crawl into the cave.

"Onaalag slithers into his tomb. The world waits, for in the end, he'll bring their doom. Creation requires sacrifice."

Aifa's lips parted as she watched him go, slithering into darkness. Her love, her master, the tiny creature was alone upon a dead world.

"The Creator breathes life upon a barren world, creating creatures of endless alterations. An artist in his own right, he despairs, for his hand molds only abominations."

Aifa felt the years flicker by as she stood, watching plants sprout from the fertile ground. Trees began to rise around her feet. She peered over them, only to be dwarfed beneath their growing height as they rose to block out the sky. The jungle was born, familiar and strange at once.

The sound of a predator sparked her instincts in an instant. Aifa whirled around, prepared to jump out of the way. Instead of leaping to snatch her, she watched it wander past as if she didn't exist. A beast with six legs and oily purple scales, it made its way through the dense foliage. She watched other monstrosities roam the trees, creatures of every shape and size as the jungle was filled with noisy life.

Far above, she heard the roar of The Chimira's fire. She could see through gaps in the branches above her head as the vast vessel departed, watching The Creator leave them all behind to venture towards the west.

"Weep, weep for The Creator. He does not see the beauty of his creations."

Aifa could feel time swirling. Disoriented as she watched the jungle changing around her, she saw life, death, and rebirth occurring in all directions, surrounded only by monsters abandoned by their god. She tried to walk towards the cave, only to find that her steps brought her no closer. It seemed she'd see only as much as the stranger desired.

Finally, she heard the roaring fire return, seeing The Creator hovering high above. A small piece of The Chimira ejected from the hulking vessel, and she watched as a white pod-like structure lowered itself into the jungle. It crushed entire trees beneath its grand weight as it settled atop the tiny hill. The bizarre structure opened its doors, and she witnessed the birth of all she despised. Flooding from its hold came a swarm of Cavaries, a new population stepping out to meet the horrid jungle.

"You show me the source of my ancestors? To what end?" Aifa demanded, sneering at the sight of the population spreading through the trees.

"The Creator returns to rectify his failures with new beings. Eager to tame what he left behind, he forges them from human genes."

"I don't understand." She was left with only more questions as time once again flickered before her. She watched as the Cavaries attempted to build huts, only to be attacked by monstrosities and scattered anew. Time and time again they fought to build, bleeding with every attempt. The Creator returned each decade, watching over his creations as they struggled to survive.

Only then did she feel the familiar caress of Onaalag's whispers. A mere echo reaching out from the distant past, it was familiar enough to bring a quiver to her lip, savoring his unseen touch once more. The whispers were not for her, however. She watched as the Cavaries were lured to the mouth of the cave.

"A guiding mind pulls them along. Offering his wisdom, his designs are whispered to those among the throng."

Feeling Onaalag's whispers, she watched as the Cavaries forged weapons and tools under his guidance. A man rose, the first Knowledge Holder to speak the great one's commands. His whispers taught them how to build, how to survive, and she watched as the great black walls of the first and only Cavari city rose to hold back the monstrosities.

Witnessing the birth of The Holy City of Aslyd, Aifa watched the buildings rise around her. The population worshipped their savior, building the central ziggurat atop the hill to bury his cave and the pod beneath. Women were offered to satisfy his nature, and she watched the generations pass in what felt like seconds.

The world shifted, and in an instant she was atop the ziggurat itself. Shadows of people flickered, showing her fragments of moments written into the fabric of the past. She saw the women that had come before her, their bellies swollen with pregnancies after being sacrificed to appease Onaalag. Head priestesses from long ago cut them open to pull their unborn children free, and she watched as black tentacles squirmed before being cast into the great flames.

"Mere seedlings? All of them?" Aifa asked, thinking of Nula-bal's red tentacles. Her firstborn had beenmuchmore than the mindless offspring she saw turn to ash.

"Silence fills empty wombs when red hands rip their offspring forth. Yet Onaalag cares not that they burn, for he dreams of more."

As the world faded into shadows around her, Aifa felt the stranger's whispers reaching across time to caress Onaalag's own. The past and the future touched, making her shiver with a sensation she had never felt. It was as if she could touch the fabric of reality itself, feeling time and space against her fingertips. Was this how her children felt?

"The Artist beckons. The Path is forged."

The deep voice nearly made her tremble beneath its touch, weaving through her mind. It held a power that far surpassed anything she had felt from Onaalag himself. Aifa fought to endure, standing defiant, for she would not wither until she held the truth she craved. "The path? I protected Onaalag's bloodline. I demand to know where it leads."

"The Red Vessel grows impatient . Long did Onaalag wait. Still The Artist waits."

Once more the past flashed around her. Inside the ziggurat, she was more than familiar with the sleeping chamber in which she found herself, seeing Mauron gripping his head in agony as he endured the visions offered by the great one. She felt his thoughts turn to murder, a man desperate to prevent the horrors Onaalag promised. Her master knowingly sealed his own fate.

"The future shifts with every calculated step, for creation requires sacrifice. Onaalag knew this well, and thus he accepts his own demise"

Aifa knew the rest. She saw herself being dragged into the great city to be impregnated. She felt Onaalag's death a second time, stirring echoes of sorrow. Hardly could she turn away despite her pain, forced to watch her journey as it flashed around her. Her escape, Nula-bal's birth and death, her torment after saving Vaecath, she watched horrid moments pass by. She and Darmi were bound by Audir, always hunted, only to hunt prey of their own. Kifi, her family, all those that had squirmed in the grasp of her children, stood before her.