Sapling: The Broken Halls

by Dan Gillis

  With some inspection, Shien found that there were exits that emptied onto balconies that overlooked the outer courtyards. He had seen the balconies from the outside the previous night. Those exits were found at the end of upwardly winding circular stairwells, while the monk’s footprints ascended a straight staircase in the far center of the room. In addition, there were doors to the right and left of the direct stairwell upon the ground floor. Shien decided to try one of those doors, and turning a coin in his hands he challenged what the monk had spoken of earlier.

  “Fates, if you truly guide the heart and hand,” he whispered softly, “then guide me to paths of wisdom and knowledge within these halls. Crowns … the right door.” He carefully set the coin upon his thumb and flipped it high. It turned over and over and landed within his palm which he closed sharply. “What a fool I am …” he chided himself, “to think that fate would guide this coin. I’ll choose for myself.” He started toward the right entrance without a further thought. Absently, he replaced the coin in his hand to his pouch. His eye caught a brief glimpse of the shining crown which glistened momentarily upward in his palm, before it was cast back into shadow.

  The corridor felt cold as the grave. It had stretched for many feet and all light had failed. Shien had found a partially consumed torch upon the wall and used a little flint that he kept within his pouch. He was accustomed to living outdoors as most of his life was spent living off the land. Only recently had he come to terms with the niceties of city life, and yet his heart had always longed for the open range. Not that he was an accomplished outdoorsman, but he certainly could keep himself alive in most circumstances. The torch had lit easily, perhaps from resting in a dry unused state for so long. The heat from the flame did little to warm the chilling sensation he was feeling. He moved cautiously down the hall, wary of dangers that Zyr and the Wilder had pointed out. It was an eerie feeling moving between the stone walls, and as he moved the torch up high above his head to check the shadows, his breath misted in the air.

  “Cold enough for Shadowveil down here …” he remarked quietly to himself. Something was bothering his senses almost to the point of discomfort. Shien knew that there was danger lurking nearby but it was impossible to locate it. He felt the warmth of Kuros, hot upon his back. It was an inviting warmth. “No, I cannot!” he spoke in a quiet rebuke. The memory of what he had inflicted upon the forest just south of Khyvla was still fresh in his mind. He put his free hand upon the hilt of his old rapier, but the touch felt empty. He knew where the true power lay, and his soul was attuned to it keenly.

  Ahead were exits from the corridor that he could discern, proceeding to the left or right. As he moved toward them, his feet scattered some rubble that went unseen below. When he moved his light to check, he determined that it was not rocks that had shifted but bones. Human remains lay scattered along the floor. Shien’s hand tightened around the rapier hilt even as he peered through the mist which exhaled from his nostrils. There was something nearby, he was certain.

  He came close to the intersection and peered cautiously around the right corner. A short hall in this direction opened into a large room. A door filled the narrow space the other way. It appeared to be quite soundly fixed to the frame. The corridor itself continued into darkness. His gaze fell back into the dim room in the first direction. There was little light to be found within, and he wondered whether he should abandon his search. Shien knew there was danger. The sensation which had once hovered between his logical mind and intuition was hastening toward the latter. It was spurred by the presence he felt lurking silently in shadows - so close but impossible to tell precisely. His nose tingled at the low temperature which prevailed within the air around him. The shift had been so gradual and it seemed impossible he could feel colder in his bones yet the bite of the cold gnawed more viciously with each step. This last revelation sealed his resolve to wait for Zyr instead of indulging in selfish pursuits.

  As he made to turn, the torch light flicked across the far end of the room, illuminating something that caught his eye. He moved the torch closer but the distance was such that he could not make out any more detail. What was it that caught his eye? Something had glittered and flashed metallically. That was all he could make out, and he would need to move into the room to determine the details. Shifting the torch in the air, he checked back down the corridor he came from for any sign of movement.

  All was still.

  Cautiously, he moved one foot toward the empty short corridor. He spied the edges of what seemed to be large statues within the entrance of the room. From what he could divine, they were strangely ornate and carefully crafted. He moved a little closer and more of the room started to take shape. It was circular and many shelves adorned the walls. A massive central column filled the centre of the room, jutting upward into shadow. Its base was easily two spears or more across. It was decorated similarly to the outer perimeter but he could not yet determine what lay upon the shelves. Shien shifted his feet slightly and peered upward into the chamber. The ceiling was far beyond his sight.

  Taking a dose of cold air into his lungs, he stepped into the large room.

  A wind gusted through the room and completely extinguished his torch light. Shien cursed aloud as the whole room was thrown into darkness. He took a moment to fumble with his belt in order to find the flint. As he manoeuvred his hands, he burnt his arm upon the glowing red embers at the end of the torch. Shien’s arm twitched from pain and he drew in a sharp breath. The flint dropped and skittered upon the floor. ‘Llian’s wrath,’ the young man chided within. He moved to his knees and placed the torch down. As he searched upon the floor for the flint, he felt vibrations under his fingertips. At the same time, he heard a scraping sound as of rocks being ground together. ‘What in Mother’s name?’ he thought with a sense of panic as he strained his ears to hear. His breath was steady and fast. There was silence for a small moment as he waited. Whatever it was, he could feel it close …

  A great shaking of the smooth floor drove the young man to his feet. Instinctively and driven by fear, he set off running. He had become somewhat disoriented with the absolute void of light and found himself crashing into the shelves along the wall. As he felt along it, the terrible shaking was confirmed in his ears as a great doom which resounded and echoed deeply in the large room. With the echoing, he could not determine the location of the sound. Yet he felt the stone vibrating more vigorously. He withdrew his rapier and wondered what in all of Aeredia he was going to do. Suddenly his mind shifted back to an earlier time … fumbling alone in the dark in terror.

  Remember.

  Shien let his weapon slide from his grip to the stone floor with a clatter. Part of his mind cried out in protest. ‘No! Do not do this! I do not want to destroy again!’ Even as the voice within wailed in protest, a stronger will moved his arm to the pack’s shoulder strap and slipped it from his shoulder. Shien felt a brush of wind and ducked instinctively, as a great thunderous crash sprayed bits of wood and other objects over him. He turned slightly and rolled, all the while holding the pack outward. His hand slid around the exposed hilt of Kuros and instantly the energy within connected to his soul. The pack glowed red from the power which throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat, the glow pulsing with the same great power. The ground was shaking and the sounds … doom … doom … were growing ever closer.

  Shien grasped the pack material and wrapped his hand around the scabbard within. He pulled the thirsty red blade free from its cage. The whole room was thrown into a red hue, and for the first time Shien gazed upon his foe. It was massive, standing perhaps some fifteen feet high, moving ever closer. It was made of stone, great chunks of rock which were sealed together through some enchantment. Whoever had concocted this strange sentinel had not bothered to take care of aesthetic particulars. It had four large limbs and little evidence of a head. It seemed to detect him without any sense of sight. It raised a massive appendage so swiftly that all Shien could think of was to dodge the terrible mo
nster. The blow impacted upon the floor, splintering and spraying flecks of stone throughout the room.

  Kuros felt light in his hands and longed to strike, but Shien withheld his attack to consider a plan. One blow from the massive arms could spell death, and he could hardly hope to deflect such powerful blows with the nimble weapon. He doubted whether a burly warrior with a sizable hammer would even attempt it.

  The sheer size of the advancing creature was terrifying. Shien determined that there was one thing he could do, which was retreat. He leapt nimbly as another blow rained down where he had crouched. As he moved swiftly toward the entrance, he realized in horror where the creature had come from. One of the massive statues was missing. Warning signals flashed in his brain as the other statue began to move. It was unlike its companion, for the edges of the monstrosity were jagged and ridged with icy spines. It stepped with a great crunching echo across the entrance, blocking his retreat.

  “Two of them?” Shien shouted out furiously, “how is that fair?” he called out in vain to the long departed master of the strange sentinels.

  The monstrous caretakers clearly showed no sign of relent.

  He moved away from the second giant and then twisted away sharply as frozen shards came knifing through the air.

  Despite his attempt to dodge away, there seemed to no place to escape the cascade. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to cover his face as he felt the shards impact upon his body. His light armor resisted some of the attack, but many slipped through to gouge and penetrate his skin.

  Suddenly the young man felt an old feeling - one of Yyriha’s many teachings came rushing back.

  You cannot always retreat, young one. There will be times that you must face your enemy. You must decide before you fight who will be victor. If you show any weakness, you let your opponent choose. And remember this one lesson … sometimes fate will decide who is the victor …

  “Fate!” Shien growled out in frustration. He was tired of listening to such nonsense. He knew that he would not be able to escape the icy prison unless he were to topple these gigantic animates of stone. He decided at that moment within his mind that he would not be defeated. There would be no room for fate to intervene, he would see to that. He brought Kuros near, into the forward guard position. He envisioned his foe crumbling and inanimate to the floor … great ice shards and stones scattered upon the floor.

  His will burned bright and hot as flames erupted from the crimson blade. With all his might, he struggled to control the power that was bursting forth from the rapier. It was like trying to hold back wave upon wave of unrelenting fire.

  He dodged around another weighty assault from the giant of stone and brought Kuros to bear. Shien slashed out wildly and the stone shattered, breaking apart under the might of the weapon. The blade and its fiery wrath consumed and destroyed all it came into contact with.

  The massive creature reared back in shock. Shien was unsure if it felt pain, but surely it sensed danger upon its massive body. He moved closer and swung the blade in a furious riposte. He legs moved from stance to stance as he began the dance of blades.

  The second creature bore down upon him.

  He dove toward the ground, rolling away from a crushing icy limb.

  Shien turned himself in the crouch and pointed Kuros toward the wounded golem, like a bloodhound to the scent. Fire ripped forth from the blade and scoured through the cool air and struck the rocky exterior of the creature.

  A strangely pitched scream issued forth from within the depths of the beast. It began to fall, even as the stones slowly slid from their place. The fires had begun to melt the stones with fervent heat and likewise obliterated the energy which bound them together. Like a tremendous waterfall, the stones came crashing to the floor, partially molten. The hot magma flowed across the floor as Kuros' fury pulsed unrelenting.

  The other golem pressed on undaunted, casting icy shards toward the nimble warrior. Shien twisted the blade in a great circular pattern before him, dissolving the ice within the air with naught but steam remaining. Kuros’ anger was fueling, and it seemed to Shien the longer he used the terrifying blade, the hungrier its fires became, desiring to consume all within its grasp. He knew he must end the fight, for the sake of all living things in the area, for surely the fires would spread as before, when he fought off the demon.

  Dashing toward the lumbering giant, he sprang upward and brought the blade downward across its torso. The blade parted the icy rock exterior as if it were passing through water. Shien lashed out again and again, violently dismembering the creature, stone from ice.

  It wailed in retaliation and swung a great arm upon him. With his way hedged up between the creature and lava pools, Shien could only react by lifting the blade above his head. The limb separated from the body as it slid across the vengeful weapon. However, the momentum carried the appendage downward. The severed stone crashed heavily against Shien’s body, to which he grimaced in pain. The rock had in its fall effectively pinned his foot.

  Shien cursed as he pushed against the stone which was several times his weight. The sheer size of the stone made the task nearly impossible. While the molten slag of the first creature pooled upon the floor, the second golem shifted with what ability and movable parts it had left. In a last desperate attempt to crush the small intruder, it made to fall upon him, bringing its massive weight to bear. Shien watched as the monstrosity came crashing toward him.

  He realized at once that he could not move his leg and no strike could repel the great assemblage of stone. With all the energy of his soul he called out for strength from his ancient lineage. “Lein kunoth!” he cried out in despair as the rocks came down upon him.

  Shien sat upon the cold stone with his eyes shut tight. He had not felt anything, so he presumed the end must have been quick. After a time, he dared to open his eyes. All the room was aglow in dazzling silvery white light. He looked up to see the body of the golem but a few inches from his face. It was quite frozen and still in mid-fall.

  Exerting all his strength, the young man shifted the stone pinning him enough to free his injured leg. He pulled himself upright and stared in wonder at the remnant of the enemy that should have ended his life. Shifting around it, he noticed that it was held fast in the air, denying natural laws which should have pulled it to the floor.

  It was suspended in the air by a large sheet of ice which had entrapped it from behind. The ice completely immobilized the giant as it spilled off the backside of the golem. Shien noticed it flowed off the back of the golem and across the floor beyond its massive remains. The young man limped painfully toward the source of the icy prison, and saw his pack laying still upon the ground. There was a great brilliance emitting from within the pack which was the cause of the light shimmering in the room. At this moment, he realized that Kuros was still and resting in a troubled slumber. He reached within his pack and withdrew slender Isil, which felt comforting within his grasp.

  “It was you …” he spoke gently to the silvery blade which seemed to sparkle in response, “you heard my cry.” He stared in amazement at the glimmering metal within his grasp, slowly turning it over to re-examine its quiet strength. Kuros in all his fury could not save him, and he had wrongfully judged the white blade as the weaker of the two. Isil had sensed his need and acted on her own through his deep connection to the sacred weapons.

  “I never envisioned the battle ending like this …” Many thoughts streamed through the young man’s mind. Fate or will? Which one was true? Now he was not so confident in his previous arrogance. He touched Isil’s cool surface to his damp cheek and closed his eyes. If Kuros was an extension of his heart, pumping fury and fire through his soul, Isil was the cool intellect that governed and maintained balance. He understood now for the first time, that they could not be wielded separately. The golem battle had taught him that. Isil was an intricate and essential part of the whole. For a moment the warrior stood silent in the large chamber, with his head bowed low and the weapons
hung down at his sides. Silently he thanked the governance of fate for his life.

  Shien nursed his leg carefully as he shuffled to the source of what had drawn him into the chamber. Isil continued to dimly illuminate the room as he moved toward the far wall. He came to the battered shelf which the stony ice golem had shattered with its fierce limb. The identity of the room dawned upon the young man for the first time. It was a library, for the walls were stacked full of books with circular shelves winding ever upward. There were balconies that could be accessed and seemed to climb far past the shimmering light Isil cast.

  “Zyr was right,” Shien whispered as he stood in awe of the accumulated knowledge. “One could lose his life in here and never receive all the answers.” The grandeur of the chamber was breathtaking. It was a near miracle the records had survived the Breaking and a testament to countless hours of scholars who had painstakingly put their heart and soul into every page … every handwritten page in every book.

  It was only after a time that he gathered his senses and placed Isil carefully against the wall and replaced Kuros to the scabbard. Isil’s light allowed him to seek for the source of the metallic flash. He could not find anything upon the shelves, yet many of the contents were scattered upon the floor below. Some had escaped the molten remains of his foe whose hot glow was slowly ebbing.

  Bending down painfully, he inspected the various tomes at his feet. After sometime he divined the source of the glittering reflection and half chuckled to himself. The source of the glitter was found upon the binding of one book, a fairly large and heavy volume which was inscribed quite eloquently and beautifully. The inscription seemed to have been pressed into the leather in a metallic form, either gold or silver leafing - it was difficult to tell in the low glimmer from Isil. He held it close to his eyes and read the inscription.