“Although it’s partially obscured by grime and decay, this is clearly the symbol for ‘home’,” Aiden explained.
“Who would call a decrepit ruin like this home?” Sir William exclaimed.
“Nobody… now,” Aiden replied grimly. “Judging by the amount of decay, this place appears to be centuries old.”
“The angle of this floor might suggest some sort of calamity,” Sir William added. “We need to find a way out. Can you reverse what you did to get us here?”
“Not without that book,” Aiden answered, shaking his head. Ronan reached into his pack and retrieved a torch, which he set about lighting with flint and steel. Aiden ventured to the edges of the room and discovered a doorway at one end. The door itself appeared to have been ripped off its hinges long ago, and a dark passageway beckoned from beyond.
The floor continued to slope downwards as they crept down the hall, the consistency of the angle seeming to indicate the entire building — or whatever it was — was at the same incline. The wind grew in intensity as they walked past other rooms, empty but for the decaying matter upon their floors.
Another passageway branched off to their right as they continued, yet the feeling of the wind on their faces was coming from directly ahead. The sputtering flame on Ronan’s torch confirmed this, so they wordlessly pressed on. The corridor ended abruptly only twenty yards further on where they discovered the source of the wind.
“That’s a hell of a drop,” Ronan remarked as he peered through a breach in the floor, and down into what could only be described as an abyss. The metal of the passage was gouged and torn, revealing the rocky walls of a natural cave inside which the tunnels built. At the edge of their vision, the other side of the passage could be seen across the gaping crevasse, but it was too far to safely jump.
“We’re a long way underground,” the raelani druid remarked quietly, looking up through the breech to see a complex network of natural caves sprawling above them. Aiden’s palms became moist as he considered the unsettling distances above and below them, and he carefully backed into the main hall.
“Let’s try the other passage,” he advised, “perhaps we’ll have better luck down there.”
Cobwebs danced in the breeze along the ceiling of the hall, though there was no sign of their spinners. It was as if all life had been extinguished here long ago. The complex reminded Aiden of the tunnels in Akora, and they in turn were similar to the cave he had fallen into half a decade earlier. One day he was going to put all of this together and find out what it all meant.
They passed several empty rooms as they continued on, their doors squeaking back and forth in the breeze. There was no sign that any of them led out of this ancient place, until they came to a closed door that caught their attention.
“Now, what have we here,” Aiden murmured, taking in the sight of the corroded metal door inscribed with runes around the edge. Several of the arcane symbols were very familiar to him, who’d encountered them around the laboratory in Ferrumgaard — runes that would incinerate anyone trying to force the door open. This alone told Aiden there was something of value behind this door, but the question remained of how to open it safely.
“Can you tell what all of those squiggly things are?” Ronan asked.
“They’re protective runes, designed to keep people like us from entering,” Aiden replied absently, still studying the sigils. Unlike the door in Ferrumgaard, this one did not have an obvious trick to circumvent its defences. Pacian could probably find one in a matter of moments, if he was here, Aiden lamented. He’d also probably stab whoever was on the other side as well.
“That doesn’t strike me as an exit,” Maggie hedged. “Why would they prevent anyone leaving?”
“Maybe this place was a prison?” Ronan wondered. “This far underground it’d be pretty much inescapable.”
“I don’t think so,” Aiden answered. “From what I can tell, this inscription reads like more of a vault than a prison door. Whatever’s behind it is probably quite valuable.” His train of thought was interrupted by a heavy thump that could be felt through the soles of his boots.
“What was that?” Sir William hissed, drawing his sword and staring down the corridor. Aiden could only hear the breathing of his companions and the subtle, pitched hum of Solas Aingeal echoing in the silence.
“Wait here,” Ronan whispered as he handed the torch to Maggie and moved silently into the darkness. “It’s safe… I think,” came the sailor’s call a few moments later. His curiosity getting the better of him, Aiden caught up with Ronan at what appeared to be another, heavier door. Large dents were visible on the blackened surface, and there were heavy locks in place around the perimeter.
“There’s something moving around inside,” Ronan whispered, pressing his ear against the door.
“These locks suggest it should stay there,” Aiden remarked, keeping his distance.
“Are you sure about this place not being a prison?” Ronan chided him quietly, and Aiden was beginning to have second thoughts on that issue. The sound of glass breaking from further down the corridor caught their attention at that moment, so Aiden silently waved the others past the ominous door. They followed Ronan for twenty yards when the sailor discovered another door at the end of the passage. This one was opened a crack, and the flickering light from a candle or torch was visible inside.
Aiden pressed his back against the wall, keeping his light from shining too obviously into the room beyond. Ronan slowly and silently drew his swords, and glanced at Aiden to signal his readiness to head in. Aiden nodded, and then the door was kicked inwards. They burst inside, swords at the ready.
Having little idea of what to expect, he was nevertheless surprised to see a grimy, middle-aged man in expensive, ruined clothes. He was unshaven and holding a tall glass in one hand, raised above his head ready to strike. His eyes were blood-shot and bleary, and evidently reeling in shock from the sudden appearance of the armed group.
“Wait, don’t hurt me,” he slurred, staggering backwards and dropping the glass onto the hard floor, where it shattered instantly. “Oh bugger, that was the only glass I had, too,” he muttered to himself. “Who the devil are you people?”
“Are you Alain Dufort?” Aiden asked as Ronan sheathed his swords and began searching around the large room. The man’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name.
“Yes! You came looking for me, thank God,” he gushed, steadying himself against the wall as Maggie and Sir William entered. “Quite an odd party of rescuers, if I may say, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. What led you to my location, sir, and did it take long to dig your way down?”
“We… that is I read from the same book you did, in your workshop back in Amalis,” Aiden explained. The look of comprehension dawning on Alain’s face was not at all encouraging.
“Well then, lady and gentlemen,” he slurred, gesturing expansively to the room before him, “since it seems you have fallen into the same trap as myself, I bid you welcome to your new home. It is also your tomb, for there is no escape from this accursed place.” Aiden was faced with the accusing stares from his companions as the reality of their situation began to sink in.
* * *
“You have no idea how hungry I am,” Alain said between mouthfuls of food, sometime later. They hadn’t restocked since they’d left Fairloch, but the stale bread and cheese seemed like a banquet.
“I think we have some idea,” Aiden drawled, watching him go through their meagre supplies faster than he thought possible. They sat on a raised dais across from the doorway, where the remains of some broken and rotted furniture were piled. The room itself was the same as the others, with metal walls corroded from the passing of countless years. Aside from the furniture there was little else to distinguish it from the rest of the complex.
“Help yourselves to some wine, by the way,” Alain offered, gesturing across the room at a number of ancient casks sitting on the floor. “I’ve never tasted anything quite l
ike it. It would have to be centuries old, of course, but whoever made it sealed it properly. It is impeccable. There’s no water or food down here, so I threw caution to the wind and drank my fill.”
“You’re certain there’s no way out?” Sir William asked, casually strolling around the edge of the room examining the walls.
“My dear Sir Knight, would I still be here if there was?” Alain replied, sobering up quickly as he ate. “I didn’t bring the sort of equipment required to attempt that climb, and who knows if it even leads anywhere? One slip and you’re down the bottom of that crevasse.”
“What about that door over there?” Aiden inquired, pointing at a large door in the shadows to their right. He had been eyeing it ever since they sat down to eat.
“A dead end, I’m afraid, and those doors you passed on the way here are both locked,” Alain responded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’ve already tried bashing my way through the heavier of the two doors, until something started to bash through from the other side. Don’t ask me what, I’m happier not knowing. The other door you speak of is inscribed with—”
“Runes of warding, yes I noticed,” Aiden finished, drawing a raised eyebrow from the explorer.
“You are familiar with the arcane?” Alain inquired curiously.
“I’ve studied a book or two.”
“If you are a wizard, you are strangely attired,” the explorer observed. “But you are correct Aiden, for that door would be deadly to tamper with.”
“I don’t even understand how it’s supposed to be opened,” Aiden remarked.
“Ah, well, that little mystery had me stumped for a while too,” Alain sighed, rubbing his temples. “But I think I’ve figured it out. The entire thing is a ruse.”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you see a handle on it?” Alain persisted. “It’s covered in so many sigils that there’s no way you could even touch it without getting your hand blown off, so I’ve come to the conclusion that the mechanism to open it is elsewhere. Perhaps a switch or lever, or even an enchanted key of some description. If that’s the case, it is entirely possible that whoever had that key took it with them when they left. Or it could be behind the heavier door, I suppose.”
“The one with something moving around inside of it?” Ronan asked laconically.
“The very same. I don’t know what it is, but vaults have guardians, do they not?”
“The good ones do, yeah,” Ronan agreed. “Wait here, I’ll go take a look.”
“Is that wise?”
“Wiser than waiting around here, starving to death,” Ronan called as he disappeared into the darkened hallway.
“A fair point,” Alain mumbled, focusing once more on his first meal in days.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sir William said, striding out the door after him. Alain continued eating while Maggie laid herself down on the floor and took out her green crystal, to continue regenerating her hand.
Aiden idly glanced around and pondered the implications of the similar design to the akoran “caves”, since there wasn’t much else to do at the moment.
“You know, this place reminds me of another hidden construction I came across in the recent past,” Aiden remarked, garnering Alain’s attention. “Very similar indeed, though far older than this, judging by the level of decay.”
“Something of an explorer, are you?” Alain inquired with a half-smile.
“Not by choice,” Aiden shrugged as he chewed on some stale bread.
“Yet you find the nature of this place intriguing, no?”
“How could I not?” Aiden replied wistfully. “I’ve never heard of any civilisation that constructed underground caves lined with metal walls before, yet this is my third time in such an edifice. I have to wonder who they were, and why they built them.”
“You think that’s interesting?” Alain hinted with a half-smile, reaching behind him to reveal a metal gauntlet of strange design. “Take a close look at this and tell me what you think.” Instantly intrigued, Aiden accepted the gauntlet and immediately noticed its poor condition and alien design. The metal was dark and pock-marked with age, but it seemed solid enough to handle without breaking. His breath caught in his throat when he saw familiar runes etched upon it — the kind he had first seen on the crystal shard he wore around his neck, and then in the cube he had retrieved from Ferrumgaard.
“It’s an interesting find,” Aiden replied, carefully modulating his voice so as not to betray his excitement. “Obviously off some sort of ancient armour, though I don’t recognise these sigils etched upon its surface, do you?”
“This is not the first time I have encountered the language,” Alain replied, and he explained further when Aiden gave him an inquisitive look. “My boy, I’ve seen a lot in my thirty years of adventuring, and this language permeates many places throughout Feydwiir. Nobody I’ve spoken to can identify it, or knows who it belonged to, unfortunately. But if you want to see something truly marvellous, just step through that door and take a look.”
“I thought you said it was a dead end,” Aiden remarked, glancing over at the unopened door.
“It is, though if you’re as interested in ancient relics as I suspect, what you’ll see in there might cause you to stop caring.” His curiosity piqued, Aiden set the gauntlet down and slowly walked over to the door, gently turning the handle and pulling it open. When he stepped inside, he wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first, but as the realisation dawned on him, his mouth gaped open at the implications.
The room was vast, stretching beyond the edge of his meagre light and was dotted with relics spaced at regular intervals. Though most of them were broken, their design was almost identical to the tall, cylindrical arcane device that Desmond used in his laboratory to open a portal to the Aether. The sage Dale had one of them too, at his house in Bracksford, but arranged in neat rows were thirty-two of the things, sitting dormant amongst the decay of ages.
Aiden was unable to comprehend the sheer volume of power the generators could produce when Desmond had operated one recently. The thought of so many in one place boggled the mind. Walking silently amongst the cylinders, Aiden discovered a pair of blackened skeletons lying upon the floor, with the tattered remains of their decaying clothing rotting around them.
“My only companions for the past two days,” Alain suddenly remarked, startling Aiden who had thought he was alone. “The larger one had that gauntlet on his right hand, although there was no sign of any other armour around here. It appears the smaller one killed him, judging by the way they were lying when I found them.”
The room shook as if from a heavy impact, and the sound of someone crying out in alarm could be heard echoing from out in the main hall. Fearing the worst, Aiden and the explorer rushed back out to the passageway to find Ronan and Sir William at the heavy, formerly locked door, trying to push it closed.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Alain cried as the door was slugged by another heavy impact that shook the hall. Ronan staggered backwards, clutching at one hand in sudden pain, and without him holding the door in place, the old knight was unable to hold back whatever was coming through from the other side. He skidded across the floor as the door was pushed outwards, and an immense, dark shape filled the doorway.
It was larger than the door, easily ten feet in height, and had to stoop down to get through. A heavy, metal foot crunched down onto the floor, and Aiden realised that it was an arcane construct, implacable and unintelligent, that was emerging from the locked room. Each movement it made was accompanied by a grinding sound, and sparks danced around the joints of its gargantuan limbs.
Aiden and Alain scrambled backwards as the construct shouldered its way into the passage, cutting them off from Ronan and Sir William with its sheer bulk. He could hear the two men backing their way along the corridor as the golem took slow, purposeful steps toward them.
“What on earth is that thing?” Maggie exclaimed from behind Aiden, gaping up at the immense
golem in horror as it swung its mighty fist towards their friends. Ronan managed to dodge to one side as it swung at them, its fist slamming into the wall just above the sailor’s head. Sir William, courageous to a fault, swung Solas Aingeal at its arm, connecting with a resounding clang.
“I managed to scratch it, at least,” Sir William called ruefully.
“Just keep backing up, we’ll figure something out from this end,” Aiden called, silently cursing Ronan’s curiosity that had unleashed the monster upon them. Aiden reflexively reached down to his scroll case, but then recalled that he only had one left, and it was something that was of little use in this situation. With a sudden craving for arcane power he settled upon the sceptre on his hip, drawing it and aiming the weapon at the back of the lumbering construct.
Hoping that Desmond had done his job properly, he whispered the command word and a familiar beam of brilliant yellow light burst forth from the gem-encrusted tip, striking the golem between its prodigious shoulders. Expecting it to turn and face the new threat, Aiden was dumbfounded when it continued to press its assault on Ronan and the old knight, unharmed.
“It didn’t even scratch it,” Aiden muttered in disbelief, struggling to think of another solution.
“My turn,” Maggie said, darting past the two men and producing a spray of water from an upraised hand. The water cascaded over the back of the construct, and Aiden wasn’t certain what she was trying to accomplish until she stepped back and began to pray. After a long moment, nothing unusual had yet happened, and Maggie shot an exasperated glance back at Aiden.
“It’s resisting my prayers,” she mumbled as the golem continued to stride down the corridor. Although it wasn’t easy to see, Aiden could still hear the sounds of their weapons clinking off the armoured behemoth as it tried to close in on them.
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