* Path of Exile *

Path of Exile. Prisoner of Axiom






I apologize in advance to players and developers
for a small distortion of the storyline of the game.



Liantra was mad with loneliness. Previously, she had not even imagined that this could happen to her at all. The cruel daughter of the Creator and Master of darkest prison of Wraeclast, who, after the mysterious disappearance of her cruel father, had become the sole mistress of Axiom, lived only by inventing more and more terrible tortures for its prisoners. She lived in the only large room in the prison, at the top of the tower. Her whole life consisted only in going down to the prisons every day, choosing a random victim, and subjecting it to inhuman torments. She soon became so skilled in this art that even experienced overseers were appalled, and rumors of her cruelty spread far beyond the bounds of the Axiom. But one day everything changed. After another series of executions, she went up to her chambers. The narrow staircase that led there ended in a portal. Something was wrong, but Liantra, intoxicated by the torture of prisoners, did not pay due attention to it. Only when she went up to her room and had barely taken a couple of steps from the portal that a crackling noise came from behind, and sparks flew in all directions. She turned and saw that the portal was covered with a strange veil, thin, transparent, but completely impenetrable from the inside.


For the first few years, Liantra lived on the hope of escape. She read everything that related to the design of portals, and even tried to apply this knowledge in practice. But many of the necessary parts were missing, and even more she was the lack of knowledge. Then she tried to break through the floor. But even then she was disappointed. The tower was built to last. It wouldn't take her a dozen lifetimes to finish this job. However, she spent years and years on it. It was probably the only thing that kept her from going mad even earlier. But gradually, she became terrified. The screams of the tortured prisoners from below became less frequent, and soon there was complete silence. Loneliness, heavy like a rock, felt to Liantra. She imagined that the prison was empty, and only she remained in it the last mistress and the last prisoner at once. However, it was true. Indeed, the prison was soon abandoned, and its once-crowded cells were now inhabited only by ghosts and monsters.


But the full horror of her situation came to Liantra when... She already and not remembered, which on account, exile. When the first one came and killed her, it seemed like a dream, a delusion, some kind of absurdity. But for some people on a Wraeclast death is only the beginning. Soon the exiles began to appear one by one. Sometimes he came alone, sometimes a whole group. Over and over again Liantra died and was raised again. And what seemed to be an accident went into the system. As she had once carried out daily executions herself, so now it was happening to her. The only difference was that the exile could come at any time of day or night. Sometimes Liantra was able to defend himself, and after several attempts, the exile never came. But the next time someone else came and killed her again. And again. And again. How many were there? Hundreds? Or already thousands? At first, Liantra tried to hone her fighting skills, but even that didn't help much. The incoming exiles were stronger, more sophisticated. They have long surpassed her in the art of torture and murder. It was even more painful than the endless series of painful deaths. For the first time, Liantra felt weak and vulnerable to the force that had condemned her to such a cruel but deserved punishment. She was desperately need of some help and protection. And even more - the compassion. She desperately wanted to share her pain with someone. But she was alone...


When did she get this idea? She couldn't remember. She had given up all her attempts to break through the floor of the tower since the arrival of the exiles. Now, in the intervals between battles, she was carving her creation, a huge, terrible statue, right out of the stone wall of the tower. She wanted to leave behind at least some memory other than that left by her incredible cruelty to the prisoners. She worked day and night, with short breaks to sleep or fight to the death with next exile. She worked with such dedication that the pain in her body was comparable to the pain from wounds received in endless battles. Long, hard work had given her such skill that the original creation of her black soul seemed less of a monster. There was something alive in his features, something beautiful in its own way. Her life, filled with a nightmare, made sense. Now, during the battle, she was trying to protect not so much herself as her creation. She even created a protective dome around it, sacrificing some energy for her own protection. Let the exile kill her faster than damage her statue! Each time she was resurrected after another death, she grabbed a hammer and chisel. In the process, Liantra often spoke to the statue, 


Soon her work came to an end. She was putting the finishing touches when another exile emerged from the portal. Annoyed at being interrupted from her work, Liantra lashed out at him with particular ferocity. But the exile was very strong. Liantra never had a chance. Suddenly there was a crash and a roar behind her. The statue came to life and, tearing huge chunks of stone from the wall, took its first, uncertain step forward. Liantra, seeing this, was surprised and distracted, immediately receiving a painful bleeding wound. She stepped back, raised the dome, and prepared to defend herself. But then the statue rushed at the enemy, striking him furiously. Not expecting such a rebuff, the exile went to the portal. Unfortunately, the respite was short. Soon he returned. He was really strong. And very cruel. First he defiantly smashed the statue in front of Liantra, and then, a little later, as if enjoying the horror and grief in her eyes, he killed her as well.


This time, Liantra wasn't particularly happy about being resurrected. She wanted the next death to be the last, final one, like everyone else's. After which there is only an eternal void of nothingness. She didn't want to open her eyes just to see that the result of her many years of work was hopelessly destroyed... But she wasn't raised to hide from fate. Liantra opened her eyes and joy filled her black soul - the statue of Bazur was there! She rushed to him, hugged him, and stood for a long time, pressing her crippled body against him. Then she picked up the chisel and hammer again and continued to work.


Now Liantra had the defender. Increasingly, they were able to survive in battle, sending the exiles away. Liantra worked even harder, gradually improving her image. She talked to him for a long time, and even read books to him. In battle, their power increased. They began to fight alternately, and soon learned to merge into one being, superior in power to both of them. But sometimes that wasn't enough, and they both died. When Liantra was revived, she set to work with renewed zeal.
- We will win. One day we will definitely win! - Liantra whispered between the blows of the hammer.
Perhaps it was her imagination, or perhaps it was true, that the statue nodded slightly in response.


Unfortunetely everything turned back soon. Rumors about the increased power of Liantra and her new defender - Bazur quickly spread through the Wraeclast. The exiles came prepared. Liantra and Bazur began to die more often. It seems that their extermination was a challenge for the exiles. They began to appear more and more often. The horror and despair fell on Liantra with renewed strenght. She knew there would be no victory. This nightmare will be repeated again and again, and so on until the end of time!


One more fighting. This time the victory was for them. But what will happen next? And the one behind it? And so on ad infinitum. Infinity... For a prisoner of the Axiom, infinity is a terrible word.
- I created you for nothing. There is no way out of here! - Liantra whispered, burying her face in Bazur's shoulder and crying.
- So we're going to die together, again and again, - replied Bazur and gently hugged her.
She wasn't even surprised that Bazur had spoken for the first time. There was a crash behind them, and sparks flew in all directions. A new exile? They turned around. Bazur grabbed the hammer, and Liantra prepared to launch a huge thunderball at the enemy. But no one came out of the portal. They joined hands and moved closer to the portal. The veil was gone.
- Let's get out of here! - Liantra said excitedly.
- Where do we go? I know nothing of the world beyond this tower.
- You know, me too... But after this nightmare, what difference does it make which way to go?


She, half-human, half-shadow, and he, either flesh or stone, still holding hands, entered the portal.






İOuttY, 2019