Advent of the Roar (The Land Old, Untouched Book 1)

by Benjamin M. Piety

“Besides that.” Johan points to the floating frek in the far distance. They all begin descending the small hill toward the settlement.

  “I think we should explore each of these old buildings. Hopefully, we can find something,” Ethan suggests.

  And so, the search begins. Ethan starts on the buildings farther west. Bernard follows, and Sanet and Johan commence on the east buildings. As they make their way from building to building, they avoid the yellow frek overhead, which on occasion passes by the broken windows or directly above them where the roofs are either caved in or entirely absent.

  The first few buildings look like haynests, with old beds and dressers. Little ricks scamper underneath the furnishings, causing Ethan to jump more often than he thinks he should.

  “Who do you think lived here?” Bernard asks, rubbing his finger across an old, faded painting. The painting depicts two people standing side by side, stoic and somber.

  “If Mane George lived here, perhaps his stewards. Or guards. Acolytes?” Ethan looks around, pushing aside pieces of furniture. The yellow glow slides across the room, causing Bernard and Ethan to push against the walls.

  “Do you think that thing is aggressive?”

  “Not sure I want to find out. Let’s head to the next building.”

  They continue searching building after building with no luck. Occasionally, the two shout across the road when they see Sanet and Johan through a window. “Anything?” They shake their heads in disappointment.

  Farther on, Johan calls out to them, “I think there’s something here.”

  Ethan and Bernard hurry down a staircase and out to the road. Above them and down the street the yellow frek floats around a corner and disappears. They enter a large room with a burned-out forge.

  “What do you think of this?” Johan asks, pulling aside some lumber. Behind it is a giant wheel. “This could work, I think. Help me look.”

  It’s heavy and takes Johan’s and Ethan’s considerable strength to take hold of it. Bernard walks over and takes one of the sides, and suddenly the wheel feels like a children’s frontop.

  “Quite the grip there, lad,” Johan comments. “This might work, actually. Let’s get this up the hill before that thing flies by again.”

  Walking slowly, the three friends carry it up the hill. Sanet keeps watch, having them duck off to the side whenever the frek passes over.

  “I’m going to feel pretty foolish when this little frek turns out to be as friendly as Brute,” Bernard states.

  “Where is your creshwillow, anyway?” Ethan asks.

  “Brute? Oh, he’s an explorer. He’ll show up before we leave. He has good sense like that.”

  Once they clear the buildings, the climb up the hill is the most precarious, with open air between them and the front door of the stonetin.

  “We’ll have to make a run for it,” Sanet says. “That frek turned south, so we should have a few majors before it returns. Ready?”

  The others nod and run up the hill. When they are about halfway up, the yellow glowing frek turns down the street. They continue onward as Sanet walks backward, keeping a close eye, detailing how near it is.

  “Four hundred strides . . . three hundred.” They’re only about fifty from the door. “Two hundred.”

  Reaching the door, they spin around and guide the pins of the wheel into the divots dug out by Ethan. Ethan oversees the other two. “Little west. Little east.”

  “One hundred. I think it’s seen us.”

  “Little more. There. Push.” They do, and with a sharp thud, it bumps into place. “Let’s turn it.” The three try to turn the wheel. It doesn’t move.

  Sanet warns, “It’s starting to glow.”

  Ethan turns. “Doesn’t it already glow?” The frek’s light is completely white at this point. Ethan shouts to the others to run.

  In turn, they look toward the flying monstrosity before leaping out of its way just as a beam of light ejects from its underside. It then slithers to the ground and makes a sudden screech. They all cover their ears, falling to the ground. No discernible face to it, the frek begins to glow again and aims its front end, this time toward Ethan and Bernard, who run around the side of the stonetin. A beam of light screams past them, blasting into a tree, which topples over.

  “Holy shnite, what is that thing?” Bernard yells.

  Ethan shakes his head in disbelief. Its natural light moves, and they watch shadows begin to recede from around the corner.

  “Looks like it’s flying again.”

  “We’re going to need to get inside. Not sure we can shoot that thing down.”

  They creep around the corner and see Sanet pointing her crossbow at it. She lets a flaming bolt fly, and it hits the frek straight in its stomach. The bolt evaporates on impact.

  “Worth a try.” Sanet shrugs, spins, and runs back around the side of the stonetin.

  “Try to distract it while we turn the wheel,” Ethan calls out from around the corner, hoping Sanet and Johan hear. He sees Johan running away toward the buildings downhill. The frek sees him too and spins its head.

  “That’s either brave or completely flam,” Ethan says to himself.

  Bernard runs and grabs for the wheel. “Quick, help me turn it.”

  Ethan shakes himself back and follows. Sanet comes around the corner, and within a minor, they each grab ahold and spin the wheel. It budges.

  “Only a bit more . . .” It shifts again, and the door slowly opens. Dust and debris rain down on them. “Keep going.”

  The door is now a stride open and Sanet tries to squeeze herself in. She pushes as Bernard and Ethan spin the wheel. Then, she’s in. “Come on, Ethan.”

  Ethan squeezes in but looks back at the sound of a gunshot in time to see Johan fall to the ground. In the far distance is a trio of crimson men, one with a shotgun. The frek sees them and heads toward them. They shoot up at it but turn back in retreat. From Johan’s body, a red-and-blue mist rises.

  Bernard, without thinking, yanks off the wheel and tosses it in the air. It flies a distance beyond any rational comprehension and smashes into the frek, which loses balance and crashes into one of the buildings, toppling it to the ground. Bernard pushes Ethan into the stonetin and grabs the door, shutting it with massive force behind them.

  “They just sent Johan left,” Sanet says, wide-eyed, trying to leave.

  Bernard holds her back. “We can’t help him now.”

  “We can—”

  “Sanet, he’s already sent,” Ethan mutters.

  “Prosh those men!” Sanet yells to the closed doors.

  “Well, they’ll likely be sent left as well when that frek comes to. What’s best is that we focus on why we’re here,” Ethan says, trying to calm her.

  Sanet takes a deep breath and bites her lip, turning away from the others.

  After a minor, Bernard says softly, “We can’t help him now, Sanet. Let’s get what we came for and hopefully be out of here before those crimsons figure out how to get in.”

  She says nothing but has ceased to struggle. Accepting what seems to be her surrender, Ethan nods and looks around into the high cathedral chamber.

  “Where now?” he calls into the empty room.

  Chapter 28

  MONCH, BROON, SOUL

  The inside of the nave is unexpectedly well kept. The pews are lined and clean, and there’s an unusual lack of dust and grime. The three walk down the aisle toward the apse.

  “When we found the other fragment, it was down a staircase behind a statue like that one,” Sanet says, pointing to one standing tall behind a tablatur.

  “You don’t chance to still have that key, do you?” Ethan hopes.

  “No. Left it back in the other stonetin,” Sanet says.

  Ethan nods. “Well, hopefully, that won’t be necessary here.” In the rafters, he sees Brute and points. “How’d he get in here?”

  Bernard and Sanet look up. “That’s not Brute,” Bernard states. The creshwillow tilts its head and hops car
efully, plank to plank, downward. “You don’t think that bodes for another protnuk?”

  “Let’s hope not,” Sanet says, gripping her crossbow. She wipes her eye. “Not sure I can handle yet another of their foretales.”

  “It’s heading in there.” Bernard points as the creshwillow disappears into a small hole halfway up the western wall.

  “You don’t think we need to go in through there?” Ethan says, stepping closer. The hole is about two measures up and would easily need cautious lifting or a rope to reach.

  “Let’s look around first—before dropping into dark holes. Sure there’s something here.”

  They wander the cathedral floor, pressing against walls, pushing and pulling dents and indents. Sanet moves behind the tablatur to the statue, this one detailing a human with four arms. She calls for the other two to help her push. The scrape of the statue’s base echoes across the large cathedral, and behind it, they find a clean and unbroken wall. “Worth a try.”

  “Just a minor.” Ethan’s eye catches irregular grooves along the wall behind the statue. “Here, help me brush the dirt from these.”

  Eager for a lead, they dig their fingers into the lines and curves of the wall. What initially seemed like a few outlier spots and scores soon emerge as an illustration of the entire stonetin with three layers beneath it. Stepping back, Ethan takes in the whole design.

  “What is it?” Bernard asks.

  “It looks like the stonetin’s lower levels, under this cathedral. Each one has written here what the level contains. The first, just underneath us, is for the monch. The second there is,” Ethan looks closer, wiping more grime from the wall, “broon. And it appears like the final level, the lowest level, is soul. Monch. Broon. Soul.”

  “I don’t know any of those words but soul,” Sanet says.

  “They’re old words. For the mind, body, and soul. After the Great Migration, bodies created a universal language, Merigen, so that everyone would be able to easily communicate. The population was so small then, it wasn’t that difficult. Though there are a few differences between states now, like how we bodies address each other: friends, folk, denizens, souls.”

  “So, what does it mean?”

  “I’m sure whoever wanted to protect what lies beneath us designed this stonetin to test our worthiness. We’re in for a bit of a trial it seems.”

  “Grats. How do we get into the first level?”

  “It doesn’t say.”

  “Perhaps we do go in there.” Bernard points to the hole in the wall and suggests, “I could give you guys a lift?”

  Ethan looks. “Maybe. We didn’t see anything else?”

  Bernard and Sanet shake their heads. And so they step closer to the small opening, only a half-stride wide. “You first?” Bernard looks to Sanet, who agrees.

  With his back to the wall, Bernard holds out his mitted hand, and Sanet steps on. He lifts her up, barely gritting his teeth as she reaches for the hole.

  “Little more.” Sanet’s fingers are inches away. Bernard raises her as high as he can. “Got it.” She grabs on to the hole and lifts herself up and in, then reemerges. “Ethan, you’re next.”

  Ethan steps forward as Bernard holds his mitts together. As if Ethan weighs close to nothing, Bernard lifts him upward until he grabs Sanet’s hand and holds himself tightly on the ledge.

  “Now take my leg,” Ethan calls down to Bernard, who reaches out and proceeds to take hold.

  Sanet pulls, Ethan lifts, Bernard assists, and after some considerable awkwardness, the three stumble into the small hole, grinning slightly at their improbable situation.

  “We’re like giant children,” Bernard comments.

  Inside, they scan their surroundings. The hole leads down into a small tunnel, requiring the three to crawl on hands and knees. It’s dark and lit only by bits of light beaming in from the cathedral behind them. The tunnel curves to the east and downward and comes to an abrupt drop. Sanet exits first, then Ethan, followed by Bernard. After Bernard lands, he retrieves and lights a frontz torch from his rucksack.

  “This is good, this is likely the first level,” Ethan notes.

  Sanet reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “I guess it is good you’re here.”

  The air is colder here. The trail leads in two directions between walls made of jagged rock and crystal. It widens most toward its eastern direction. They all agree, silently, to head that way. After a few strides, the path slopes downward, curving slightly around a gentle bend. A few majors pass, and they turn to each other, wondering if perhaps the western direction would have been a better choice, as their current track presents nothing but more rock and trail.

  “Let’s see it through,” Bernard encourages.

  Soon they arrive in a chamber with a large cylindrical stone, nearly twenty measures high, standing in wait in its middle. A singular wall emerges from either side of the chamber that blocks any attempt around. This wall rises to the ceiling, curving around the top of the rounded stone. After they step into the room, Ethan paces around in thought. Ahead, cut into the middle and bottom of the circular stone, is a hollowed-out opening, large enough for a single person to crawl through. Inside, the opening leads only a few strides inward but is otherwise meaningless. On both sides of the chamber, narrow vertical levers are built inside the outer wall.

  “Bernard, can you pull on one of those?” Ethan instructs.

  Bernard agrees and steps over to the west wall. He grabs the lever with two hands and pulls it downward. Nothing happens.

  “Try pushing it?” Ethan suggests.

  Bernard’s effort shifts the lever back to its original position and beyond.

  A gruff moan reverberates across the room. Sanet calls out behind them, “Sounds like something’s happening inside.”

  She points to the small middle opening near the floor. Ethan peeks inside and watches as a back wall shifts to the east to reveal a small closet-sized opening. Sanet peers inside as well.

  He looks again and says, “I don’t think we should go in there. I wouldn’t want us getting stuck or possibly crushed.”

  She waves him off. “Bernard, how far can you push it?”

  Without hesitation, Bernard pushes the lever upward. In response, the entire stone column begins to rumble, dust snowing from its upper side.

  Ethan begins to work out that the lever is somehow adjusting unseen walls inside the rounded stone. “It’s an enigmit. Testing our monch.”

  Bernard stops. “That’s as far as it goes.”

  “The panel closed off that little room, Ethan,” Sanet says, her eyes still on the opening.

  “Wisnok. Bernard, pull it back. Sanet, keep an eye on it and let us know when it’s completely open.”

  Sanet holds thumb to finger as Bernard takes the lever again and begins to pull down once more, slowly and steadily. He listens to the grind inside the walls and Sanet crouches on hands and knees to watch.

  “Stop,” she calls out. Bernard stops. “I’m going in.”

  Ethan’s heart skips. What are we doing here? With reluctance, he agrees. “Be careful.”

  “Always, Sur Mershner.”

  She crawls forward and disappears into the dark. Ethan drops to his knees to see if he can watch where she goes, but without light, there’s only the echo of her voice.

  “It’s a small room. Not big enough for you two.” After a minor, a flicker of neon illuminates the inside. “Lincoln, there’s a lever here too.”

  Though something feels odd about the entire room, without a better lead, Ethan decides against his best judgment. “Sanet, try to push or pull it.” He waits.

  After a major, the stone shifts again and the hole through which Sanet crawled produces another panel that closes it off. “What happened?” she calls out, her voice muffled through the stone.

  To Ethan’s west, Bernard yells out, “You opened a door here. I think I can fit inside.”

  This news brightens Ethan’s mood. Clever contraption.

&nb
sp; “Should I?” Bernard waits for Ethan’s approval.

  Before answering, Ethan works out the logistics. “I think you’ll have to. But we should be sure we do this with purpose. If we push when we’re supposed to pull, we could crush each other.”

  Bernard nods and squeezes his way into the new opening, turning sideways and wriggling his way inside.

  Ethan asks, “How are you doing, Sanet?”

  “Fine. It’s hot.”

  “Hopefully this won’t take long.”

  Bernard, whose voice is also muffled, yells through the stone, “There’s a handle here. Do I push or pull?”

  Without answering, Ethan steps back, searching the chamber for something he might have missed. Looking up, he spots a set of crystalline rocks in the ceiling reflecting light from the frontz torch Bernard left. They are aligned west to east, with the first set arrowed west, then the next arrowed east. The third set points east as well, with the last pointing west once again. “Sanet, which way to did you move your lever?”

  “I pulled it.”

  “Grats. Bernard, you have to pull the handle.”

  “You got it, friend.”

  A minor passes as the stone moves again. Sanet cries out. “The walls are closing in! Wait. Wisnok, I can step up. Keep going. Slowly.”

  Ethan paces back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling useless, staring at the center stone rumbling in the dark, lit only by Bernard’s left-behind torch. “There’s nothing here. Don’t see any handles.”

  “Should I have pushed it?” Bernard shouts.

  Ethan wanders to the other side of the chamber to find an opening in the stone’s east wall. He grins to himself. “Looks like there’s a third opening. I’m going in.” Before doing so, he glances back up to confirm the direction he’s to move the lever. Push. Pull. Pull. Push. Nodding to himself, he steps inside the narrow walls until he’s barely able to move. He shifts himself, squeezing in his stomach and reaching forward, grasping on to an inner wall for leverage.

  “How are you doing, Ethan?” Sanet calls out, her voice barely audible within the stone walls.

  He grunts as he presses farther inside the room. It becomes clear that just beyond this narrow slit, the stone walls open. And in the opening, across the small room, another lever sits in wait. Using both hands now, he continues to struggle, scraping skin and clothes until he falls to the ground in a blubbering mess. What a flab of meat I am. He stands up, brushing his knees and crouching before a low ceiling.