“Oh he just wanted to keep watch near the door. What have you been doing, how’s the book learnin?”
“It has gone quite well. I have been studying here for a while and I guess I must have lost track of time. Is there still enough daylight to investigate?”
Aza nodded. “The day is waning, but there’s still time.” He noted the blatant lie being told to him, but pretended not to know anything. He instead informed him about the key and the apartment. It wasn’t too far from his own home, and they could easily make it there and back with time to spare. Dullahan seemed ecstatic, taking the key, and rounding up his supplies again. The two hurried to the front, where Aza pulled out Luke. Before leaving, the three came to the agreement, or battle plan, for what they were to do next. Luke was to head home for the night, while Aza and Dullahan checked out the basement apartment. In the morning, all would meet at Aza’s to go over their findings and work out a way forwards from there. Oddly enough though, Dullahan threw in that Luke would need to bring Desmond with him. The other two weren't sure why, but it seemed doable with a little prodding. With all sorted out, Luke and Aza shook hands, as the farmer beginning the long trip back east. He didn’t want to leave his friends alone, but was relieved to be able to actually get home before nightfall. The other two went west, key in hand, unsure of what lie below.
Chapter 12: Those Who Tread Before Us
Thunder crackled down from above as the clouds churned and shifted amongst themselves. It was less than an hour till nightfall, yet here they stood. The two crossed the gloomy threshold of Talmore House, a once illustrious manor, now segmented and decrepit. The formerly exquisite architecture sanded off and carved out, as many new walls were added and many of the various extrusions torn down. Only a tattered box of a building remained from what was once the talk of the town. Inside, they were greeted by a narrow hallway. A grey skinned man lay half asleep in a small heap of trash, while a cheap, cancerous version of the lighting fungus hung out from the broken walls. The two would have been far more afraid had it not been for everything else that had happened. Even still, Han let Aza lead the way as they walked to the very end of the hallway where a disheveled, yet solid door stuck out to greet them. The tumblers within were turned and the winding stairs below exposed. What lie at their lower landing was a sight to behold.
The room was far taller then they had expected, a fall from the stairs likely being fatal. It should have been impossibly dark, yet years of neglect had caused the hyphe of the fungus to eat through the floor and collapse into the basement. It’s main body, a gently pulsing mass of thick tendrils, sat in a pool of water covering the floor. Small, misshapen blue lights dotted the walls in large clusters, giving the room an almost otherworldly glow. At the very bottom, were desks, chests, and chairs all sitting in the water, while papers rotted away in decrepit shelves. It even looked like there had been things hanging from the ceiling at one point, now laying half sunken in the dark water. As the two made their way down, the old stairs creaked, threatening to give way, yet it was the least of their concerns. In response to the noise, the water began to churn as something approached the stairway. Aza stopped, just five steps from the water, and waited. He strained his eyes, trying to see what lie within. It had a wide shape, and must have been fairly flat given that the flooding only looked to be around knee deep.
He lurched back as the water splashed again. Something hauled its way onto the bottom steps, looking like a misshapen disk of brown flesh. It bent at an angle, making a sickly gurgling sound, and revealing a wide mouth of jagged teeth. Immediately knowing what it was, Aza wasted no time in producing a mass of threads and slicing them into the wretched thing. It shrieked and fell back as the luminescent tendrils pierced its skin. Yet Aza would not let up, another barrage followed and another after that. Its flesh tore and bled as it slowly tried to escape back into the water. Yet its was not nearly fast enough. Soon the dark surface became tainted with a thick purple sludge as the creature breathed its last breath. Han had retreated to the top of the steps while Aza waited for the familiar sound. The large air pocket within the carcass burst, releasing a large bubble of gas, and then sinking into nothingness. Aza began walking to the water as the blood spread out like a virus, quickly filling the whole of the water’s surface.
“We’re all clear.” He stepped into the brine and began walking over to the closest desk.
Han poked his head down from the top of the landing and slowly crept back down. “What exactly was that creature?”
“Sand Lurker, but I assume someone has a more technical name. They feed on fungus, but at some point developed a taste for humans. You have to be very careful around them, their spit will paralyze you.”
Han shuttered. “Are you sure that’s the only one?”
“It’s not.” Aza shifted his boots. “I’m standing on one right now.”
“Why!?” Han had almost gotten to the water, but lurched back.
“They’re a bunch of cowards. Normally they try and blend in with the ground and sneak attack you, but if they sense the blood of their own kind, they go dormant for a few hours. I think to try and sell their camouflage.”
Han looked at the water and slowly stepped in, jumping when he felt the edge of the first creature under his boot. “You’re absolutely sure they stay down?”
“Sure enough.” Aza was already picking through the papers of the desk, most of which were covered in mildew, or in tatters.
Han followed suit, staying close to Aza as they explored the ruined workshop. They moved from desk, to table, Aza breaking into the occasional chest or cabinet. All were rotten and ruined, their contents useless at best, or completely destroyed at worst. Yet as they progressed, Han was able to get a decent mental map of the area. It was a large cube, with the tree like base of the fungus in the middle. From what lay broken in the water, it looked like he had a set of planets hanging from the ceiling, along with the skeletons of now ruined contraptions and inventions. Yet he also began to notice something else. There were distinct raised spots where the creatures were laying, with the majority of the floor being covered in them. That was all except for one area on the far side of the hyphe mass, where the ground was notably smoother. It was mostly barren of anything still standing, say for one chest against the wall, illuminated by a mass of blue light.
“Hey.” Han tapped Aza’s shoulder and pointed to the chest. “Let’s head that way.”
He put down the moldy paper he was holding and slowly maneuvered in that direction, his feet sliding along the slime covered stone. He got maybe halfway to the chest before his heart jumped and he stopped in his tracks. The tip of his boot shifted around and felt an abrupt drop off just ahead. Some more prodding revealed the crack to be less than a foot wide, at least where they stood.
“Be very careful, I think I found where those things got in.” He stepped over the split in the stone, followed by a nervous Han.
“What’s that?” He grabbed Aza, nearly toppling him.
While hard to see with the blood floating about the water, there was something else on the surface. It almost looked like algae. Aza followed it to the chest and laughed. He looked to Han and then pointed over to it. “Remember that stuff coating the ladder?”
Han nodded as he put together what must have happened.
“When you put too much on, the outer layers get weak and washes off. It’s something of a hazard to anything that breathes underwater. Like those rotten things.” He stepped through the stuff and now stood in front of the chest, a few pulls revealing it to be locked. Aza tried the key, but to no avail.
“Can you break it with your threads?”
Aza looked the thing over. It was wood, but heavily ringed in metal. “Let me try something.” He knelt down and placed his palm over the lock. So far, in all his practicing and testing, he had never been able to cut through metal, only scratch it. Yet there was something that he had always wanted to try. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the object in fron
t of him. One by one the tendrils of light pulled themselves out from his palm and swept around the gears within the lock itself. He knelt there for what felt like an eternity as one by one they wrapped, and pulled, and pushed the internal mechanism around. Eventually he got a hold on what he was doing and the lock clicked open. Both he and Han peered inside to see books, papers, and notebooks of all kinds in pristine condition if not a little yellowed around the edges.
Dullahan gently began sifting through its contents while Aza stood guard. Another eon seemed to pass as the frenzied scholar scavenged what looked to be the most important items. Among them was a thick, rolled up map, some recent diaries, and a few sketchy notebooks. At the very bottom, under a pile of quills, was a small red book. It was bound in thread with its title scrawled in thick, black squid ink. The same substance being used to write something on the first page, even preceding the table of contents. He looked it over, but was unable to make out the rushed handwriting.
“Aza, could you read this?” Han passed it to his friend, who had been watching an odd pile of debris by the corner of the room.
He looked the thing over and cleared his throat. “To Those Who Discover”. He read it over again. “That would be the most basic translation.”
“I know that. I was referring to the wall of chicken scratch that comes next. Also, I have no use of the most basic version. I need it in all its detail.” He seemed insulted by the implication he required some abridged version of things.
Aza looked at it again, gazing over the spirals , swirls, and ticks. “My Inheritance to those Who Seek the Greater Truth.” He then pulled open the first page, which served as a note to the reader. “If you are reading this, then I have likely met a grisly end at the hands of some unseen horror from the depths of the Abyss. Consider this a consolidation of my findings up until the year of my departure. This is not meant to supplement the rest of my work, but merely to help move you along. I hope you make good use of my findings.” Aza’s eyes jumped down to a second note, looking to have been added much later. “To whoever finds this, you are not in Andrecill or Dolocill. You are in Verdracill, the heart of the Southern branch of the empire! If you do not believe my warning, turn to page 145 where I elaborate.”
Han’s eyes went wide. “What was that name?”
Aza looked at it again. “Verdracill?” He handed the journal to his friend, who snatched it from his hand.
He read and reread the warning a thousand times in his head before handing it back off to Aza. He began walking away from him, rubbing the side of his head and seeming to retreat into his own thoughts. “Everything...I found...everything…”
Aza slowly approached him. “What’s wrong with you?”
Han spun around and pushed up his glasses. “This…” His mind couldn’t seem to process this impossible scenario. The gauntlet, the capitol, the ruins, the twisted land...it was all here…
Aza watched as Han staggered forwards again...and saw the eyes in the water. The surface burst before he could pull his ally back, and the shattered creature locked its hand around his wrist. It was a mannequin, or scarecrow constructed from wiring and ceramic. Bits of clothing hung around its mangled frame, it’s eyes like that of a human but yellowed and mildewed.
“It’s so...cold...” In its other hand was a long piece of jagged metal, that it raised up for the kill.
Aza immediately stepped back and launched a barrage of threads at it, causing the thing to crash back into the water. Han tried to run, but it lurched back up and grabbed his arm. As it did so, he ripped a small puzzle box from his satchel and spun around, slamming it into the thing. It merely swatted it out of his hand, and sent the thing crashing into a rotten desk. Han tried to fight back but the twisted monstrosity locked its unfeeling hands around his neck. Aza watched, unable to get a clear shot, unable to know if they would even do anything against its metal frame. So he took a deep breath and focused everything. His fear of the mayor, of what could happen to his friends, of what was to come. He spun them all together in his mind, one single story, one grim song. His foot came down hard on the stone as he shouted at the fiend.
“Get out!” The fear burst forth in all directions, slamming the thing back as the soul within was blasted from its vessel. Without the body, it was merely a glowing orb of fiery blue light. Before it could try anything else, it suddenly flew through the wall and disappeared from view. Both boys waited for it to return but it was soon clear the thing was never coming back.
Han coughed and staggered, the fear having also affected him to a lesser degree. He took Aza’s arm and the two retreated to the stairs.
“That’s why we dismember the dead.”
Han gave small smile at the morbid humor of it all, still shaken by what had just happened. Aza on the other hand, was exhilarated by what he had just done, by what he hadn’t known he could do. The duo resealed the rundown chamber and left the building. To their surprise, it was already night. They could even see the fog wrapping its slithering tendrils around the nearby buildings, as the ghostly lamps shone like specters in the streets. It was close, so dangerously close, but they beat it to the house. Han collapsed into a chair at the table while Aza secured every lock and deadbolt the door had to offer. With that done, he too collapsed into a chair and leaned back against one of the cupboards. His wandering eyes fell to the living area, which was significantly cleaner then it had been since...actually, he had never seen it like this. All the boxes were pushed against a wall, and some of them were even missing. As if on cue, Gretel peered out from the stairway before walking down to greet them.
“I see you’ve been busy.” Aza motioned to the towers against the wall.
She shrugged. “Gregory is pretty low maintenance when he ain’t havin onea his fits. I had to find some way to entertain meself.” She walked over to the couch and held up a thick blanket. “You know ya had this lovely thing just sittin in a box?”
“No, I don’t even remember half of what’s in those things anymore.”
She laughed. “Lotta junk, lotta dead space. I was able to consolidate mosta the stuff, if ya couldn’t tell.”
“I did, and I thank you for it. You can have anything in the cupboard.” He gestured to the kitchen area around him.
“Bah, ya can’t reward me with what I already have.” She pulled a bowl of sliced potatoes from the counter and walked them over to the stew boiling in the fireplace.“By the way, I stuck that ugly cat on your bed.”
He snickered, but was somewhat happy to see the old thing again.”I’d expect nothing less from the new maid.”
“Bah!” She rolled her eyes and stirred the bubbling brew.
“Cat?” Han couldn’t recall seeing an animal.
“It’s an old stuffed thing from when I was a kid. She found it yesterday buried under some junk.”
“I thought you couldn't have dolls or spirits possess them?” Despite engaging in a conversation, he was already ripping through the red notebook and pouring over its contents.
“For whatever reason they don’t seem to. Gregory thought it was because they had too much dignity, but I think the stuffed animals are just too blobby for them to maneuver.”
“Huh.” Han had mostly been looking up to hear the answer to his inquiry, but now fully buried his face in the writings.
Aza left the busy scholar to his work and walked over to Gretel. The two exchanged pleasantries while she told him how Gregory had been. To Aza’s joy, the old man had ben lucid a few more times than usual, and only once had a delusion. She tried to ask him of his day, only to be told it was Paladin business. He received a smack to the head, and a bowl of stew, while she curled up on the couch with her food and a book. Soup was slid in front of Han while Aza took his seat across from him. Bite by bite, slurp by slurp it went down. In no time at all the bowl found itself on the ground to make room for more notebooks. He went on studying for nearly an hour before Aza finally made his move.
“So what did it mean?”
&n
bsp; Han looked up from the journal he was flipping through and tried to think of what he was talking about.The scholar's face revealing his annoyance at being broken from his work.
“What exactly is Verdracill? Is it a country, or a territory?” He motioned for Han to chime in.
He instead pushed his glasses up. “I am afraid it is need to know only.”
“Like why you lied to us about going to the library.”
Han flinched upon hearing this, dropping the journal all together.
“I was on the balcony. Now I understand that there might be things here that Paladins don’t want common folk knowin, but right now you, Luke, and I are a team. You can’t just keep us in the dark all the time. I want to help you, but I need to know what’s going on.”
Dullahan blinked a few times, fully expecting to be accused of being a fraud, and shocked when it didn’t come. He leaned back and stewed on the words. Aza was right, but there was only so much he could let get out there. He tipped the chair back into place and looked his ally dead in his icy eyes. “To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know what all is going on here. I have theories, many of which are looking more and more likely, but nothing concrete.”
Aza nodded, but stayed at his seat. He believed the Paladin, but still wanted something better.
Realising that his vague statement would not be enough, Han decided to answer the question. He did rather enjoy history, so tried to think of it as giving a personal lecture on an important topic, rather than conceding. “Do you know who founded this town?”
“Not names. I know most of them were freed slaves.”
Han nodded. “But slaves to who?”
Aza tried to think, but nothing came to mind. “It was so long ago, I doubt much of anyone remembers anymore...if anyone remembers.”
“This town might not, but the rest of the world does.” He leaned back, loving Aza’s obvious peak in interest, all the boy’s focus squarely on himself.
The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow Page 16