Rothel frowned. “I was going to volunteer to come, too, you know.”
“Yes, but someone needs to stay out here and protect the caravan in case the Draymens attack,” said Helnia. “You’re a better fighter than me, so I think you should do it.”
Rothel didn’t look pleased with this arrangement, but he nodded and said, “Fine. But please be careful; we have no idea what is in there and we can’t afford to lose both of you.”
Sarzen jumped over the side of the cart and landed on the ground with ease, while Helnia climbed over the side a bit more carefully and joined him on the ground.
“Don’t worry, Rothel,” said Sarzen, waving off Rothel’s concerns. “We’re not looking to pick a fight with the Draymens. Just make sure they aren’t in here; and if they are, we will leave them alone and come back here to warn the rest of you.”
Sarzen looked at Helnia. “Are you sure you feel up to this? You still haven’t fully recovered from your time as a slave.”
Helnia looked up at the Shrine. She felt the letter against her leg in her pocket, close to her money bag. She still did not see anyone in the windows, but if the letter was true, then their parents were in there somewhere, waiting for them.
“Yeah, I’m up to this,” said Helnia. “My injuries won’t slow me down. I had one of the other mages heal most of my wounds with magic, so I should be okay.”
“All right,” said Sarzen. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked back toward the Shrine, a look of determination on his face. “Then let’s go.”
-
The interior of the Shrine was pitch-black. The Cursed Lands were already perpetually dark, but at least they had a sun, even if it was weak and unimpressive, but the Shrine had nothing. No torches on the walls to illuminate the interior; it was more like walking into a cave than a Shrine, though there weren’t any bats or anything like that.
Helnia held up her hand, which glowed with Raugus energy. But she kept the light low, partly to save Raugus energy, partly to not catch the attention of any Draymens that might be hiding in the shadows somewhere up ahead. Then again, any light, no matter how weak and concealed, would likely attract attention in this place, given how dark it was. But neither were Helnia and Sarzen going to enter this place without at least a little light; that would be pure suicide, no matter how you looked at it.
The sounds of their footsteps echoed off the floor and walls, which meant that this place was even bigger than they first imagined. Helnia still couldn’t see much; she couldn’t even see the walls. But part of her was happy about that, because she sensed an evil in this place, a deep evil she couldn’t explain. It was an evil that was even different from the general evil atmosphere of the Cursed Lands, as though this place was the source of the evil itself.
Neither Helnia nor Sarzen spoke. As a result, Helnia could hear her own heart beat in the darkness; it sounded as clear as day. She worried that the Draymens might also be able to hear it, but at the same time, she knew that it wasn’t loud enough for anyone other than herself to hear. That did not stop her from putting a hand on her chest, however, to try to silence her heartbeat.
Helnia moved her hand this way and that, trying to illuminate the place better. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of something in the shadows; the lower half of a broken statue, a discarded, snapped sword lying on the ground, gouges in the flooring that looked like they had been carved by monsters, even dried stains on the stone floor that may have been human blood, perhaps from sacrifices to the One from so long ago. It all made her sick to the stomach just to look at; based on Sarzen’s expressions whenever he saw them, he felt the same way.
The darkness felt heavy around Helnia, but she did not let herself get scared. She focused on going forward with Sarzen, never looking to the left or right.
A sound—metal being dropped against stone—caused Helnia to jump so badly that she nearly turned off her light. Sarzen, however, drew his sword from its sheath and held it before him in defense.
“What was that?” said Helnia in a hiss of a whisper, her heart beating faster than ever as she looked everywhere for the source of the sound.
“I don’t know,” said Sarzen in an equally low whisper. “It sounded like someone dropped something. Did you drop anything?”
Helnia shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Do you think maybe it was something dropped by a statue? Perhaps an ancient statue’s hands giving away from old age and dropping whatever it was holding?”
“Maybe,” said Sarzen. “It would explain why—”
All of a sudden, a soft, green light appeared in the distance. It was at the top of a staircase, a tall staircase that looked like it was going to crumble if you stepped on it. The light glowed softly and probably would have been unnoticeable under normal circumstances, but in the pitch black darkness of the Shrine of the One, it was almost blinding in its brightness.
“A light?” said Helnia. She looked at Sarzen. “Do any of the legends mention a light in the Shrine?”
Sarzen shook his head. “The old legends don’t talk much about the Shrine, because it was abandoned very early on and our ancestors never entered it when it was in use. But I don’t like that light.”
“Neither do I,” said Helnia. “Do you think we should ignore it?”
Sarzen lowered his sword. “I’m not sure. On one hand, it might be something dangerous, maybe even lethal. On the other hand, it might be nothing and we could avoid falling into a potential Draymens trap if we ignore it.”
“So we should just ignore it, then,” said Helnia.
Right as she said that, the light grew suddenly brighter. It became so bright that Helnia had to cover her eyes to protect her vision, but then the light dimmed, allowing her to lower her hand and see what had happened.
The light had become bright enough to show more of the Temple’s interior. On the stone floor in front of them was a large, red arrow pointing at the staircase, with a simple message written underneath it in the same red paint: ENTER.
“That is not ominous at all,” said Helnia, rolling her eyes. “And most certainly not a trap.”
“Right,” said Sarzen. “Whoever set this trap must not be very smart. They must think we’re stupid or something. I doubt our parents fell for this trap when they went through here.”
Helnia bit her lower lip. She felt the letter in her pocket and then looked up at the staircase again. She saw no one standing around the light or within it, but she wondered if this was something their parents had set up for them. They had said they were going to meet her and Sarzen in Ferro’s Pass. If this was their way of letting Helnia and Sarzen know they were here …
Helnia looked at Sarzen again. “I think we should investigate the light.”
Sarzen looked at Helnia like she was crazy. “Why? It’s obviously a trap.”
“Because …” Helnia tried to think of a good excuse. “Because if the Draymens are behind this light, then we should do something about it. I doubt they will just let us and the others pass through here even if we avoid it.”
“It would make it easier for the caravan to travel through here if we deal with whatever traps the Draymens have left for us ahead of time,” said Sarzen, stroking his chin. “Okay. We’ll go up there and investigate the light. But be careful; if this is a trap, like we think, then we might be in for the fight of our lives soon enough.”
Helnia nodded and the two of them walked over to the staircase, which they then began to ascend. The staircase held under their weight, despite its old age, and they kept their eyes upward, looking at the light as they drew closer and closer to it.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Sarzen entered the room from which the light came first, and then Helnia followed. She immediately looked around at their surroundings and gaped in awe at what she saw.
The room was massive; not quite as big as the last room they had been in, but still very big. The ceiling was high and vaulted, with a few holes here and there, like the ce
iling had been knocked in at some point. The walls were covered with strange paintings of creatures, perhaps Draymens, engaging in all kinds of obscene acts; child sacrifice, cannibalism, and far more disturbing things. There was some kind of text underneath the paintings, maybe the written form of the Draymens language, but Helnia could not read it, nor did she want to, because she had a pretty good idea what the text said, if the paintings were anything to go by. Strange statues were built into the walls near the ceiling, like evil spirits looking down upon them from above.
But the most noteworthy part of the room was the gigantic statue in the middle of the chamber. It wasn’t merely the size that made it noteworthy; no, what made it noteworthy was the fact that it looked brand new, if unfinished. The stone appeared to have been freshly mined and, unlike the rest of the Shrine, it did not give an appearance of neglect or age.
The statue itself looked like a monster from a child’s nightmare. Its face resembled that of a snake’s mixed with a rat’s, while it carried a huge sword in its hands, a sword at least as tall as Sarzen if not taller. The statue was carved with thick armor, armor that had the same grotesque paintings as the ones on the walls. Its eyes looked disturbingly realistic, even though they were made out of the same stone as the rest of its body. It had a horned helmet carved into its skull, horns that looked as sharp as knives.
“By the Dragon Gods’ many names,” said Sarzen, staring up at the statue in astonishment. “That’s the One.”
“The One?” said Helnia. “Do you mean the One of Shadow?”
“Yes,” said Sarzen. “At least, this statue fits the description of him in the old legends. But I’ve never actually seen a picture or statue of him before; it is supposed to be blasphemous to make a statue or picture of the One, hence why all statues of him were destroyed when our people came to Yores. Perhaps this one survived the purge somehow.”
“It didn’t survive the purge,” said Helnia. “It is clearly from after the purge. Look at how clean it is; it’s practically new.”
“But if it’s new, then who made it?” said Sarzen. “The Draymens?”
Helnia did not know the answer to that question. She just looked at the source of the light, which was coming from the base of the statue. The source of the light was difficult to see, due to how bright it was now, but it soon dimmed until it was clear enough to see what was creating it:
It was Icicle, Misma’s pet snow monkey. It was sitting at the feet of the statue, its eyes wide with what appeared to be curiosity. Its tail waved through the air, moving like a snake, but Icicle did not look like he was going to come close to them.
“Is that … Icicle?” said Sarzen. “Misma’s monkey? What’s it doing here?”
“I don’t know,” said Helnia. “The last time I saw it, it ran away. I thought it was still in Yores.”
“Maybe it got lost,” said Sarzen.
“Lost by crossing the border and traveling deep into the heart of the Cursed Lands?” said Helnia in a skeptical voice. “A more reasonable theory is that Icicle is the one behind all of this stuff that we’ve gone through so far.”
“More reasonable, perhaps, but no closer to the mark than the ‘it got lost’ theory,” came a voice from somewhere above. “Which, by the way, is outright false.”
The voice was coming from a Draymens that was hanging from a hole in the ceiling with an animalistic grin on its face. This Draymens was tall, same as Sarzen in height, with long, curling horns rising from its head. It wore a snake-like mask on its face and its pale gray skin looked very sickly from the green light from Icicle. It had no weapons that Helnia could see, but that did not mean it was not dangerous.
The Draymens dropped from the ceiling, but when it landed on the floor, it did not make a sound. It didn’t even fall right; it seemed to fall like a leaf, even though it was clearly heavier than any leaf.
Sarzen immediately drew his sword and ran at the Draymens. He didn’t even explain what he was doing. He just dashed toward the Draymens, yelling loudly and angrily.
The Draymens just sank into the shadows, narrowly avoiding Sarzen’s blade, which cut through empty air. Sarzen staggered forward, but immediately regained his balance and started looking around for the Draymens, as did Helnia, who had tapped her necklace and was prepared to cast a spell to defend herself.
“Up here, humans,” said the Draymens’ voice from above. “I’m not hiding.”
Helnia and Sarzen looked up. The Draymens now clung onto one of the statues built into the walls near the ceiling, well outside of Sarzen’s reach. Helnia could probably hit him with a spell from here, but she had a feeling that he was expecting that and would likely counter it.
The Draymens smiled. “I see you remember me, Warrior Priest. I thought you might forget, but I guess you humans have a better memory than I thought.”
Helnia looked at Sarzen in surprise. “You’ve met this Draymens before? When?”
Sarzen’s scowl grew deeper. “In Ars, when he infiltrated the Sanctuary and killed High Priest Renuk.”
Helnia gasped. “You mean this is the same Draymens who killed Renuk?”
“Indeed,” said the Draymens. He gingerly touched his side and grimaced. “The wounds you inflicted onto me have healed, but … not as well as I’d like. I still have scars from where the High Priest stabbed me, but it is all worth it for the cause.”
“What are you doing here?” said Sarzen. “Why don’t you come down and fight like a man, you beast? Let’s finish what we started in the Sanctuary.”
The Draymens snorted. “Do you think I’m so foolish as to fight you directly? We Draymens do learn from our mistakes, you know. We’re not like you humans, who seem to just repeat the same mistakes over and over again expecting different results. I suppose that is why the One referred to you as the Mad People in the old stories.”
“It’s about honor, murderer,” said Sarzen. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Honor is as foreign a concept to you Draymens as love and hope.”
“Love and hope?” said the Draymens. “Who needs such ideals? We Draymens will win sooner or later. Your quest for the Dragon Gods is about to come to a very gruesome end. That much I can assure you.”
“I’m sure you believe that, but that doesn’t make it true,” said Sarzen. “We have the Dragon Gods on our side. Our quest will succeed and we will drive you and your people from Yores once and for all.”
The Draymens chuckled. “That’s assuming your own leaders even support you.”
“Of course they do,” said Sarzen. “The Elect voted to send us. We wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”
“The Elect merely wanted you out of the way,” said the Draymens. He smirked. “They knew your quest would be a foolish one, so they decided to send you to your deaths.”
“What?” said Helnia in shock. “What are you talking about? The Elect Council serves the people of Yores. They’re not perfect, but—”
“A total, though comforting, fiction,” said the Draymens. He shook his head. “The Elect Council stopped serving your people long ago. They are now allied with the Draymens. And, with their help, Yores will fall and your people will be slaughtered like lambs.”
“No way,” said Sarzen. “The Elect don’t work with you. You’re lying.”
“Have you ever wondered why the Elect have done so little to stop my people from invading Yores?” said the Draymens. “Have you ever stopped and considered that the Elect have chosen to be slow and inefficient in stopping us? That they have intentionally chosen to hand the plains—and, soon, the mountains—over to us?”
Helnia’s heart sank into her stomach. “If that’s true … if that’s true … then that means that our hometown …”
“Was sacrificed to us, yes,” said the Draymens, nodding. “The Elect refused to save your hometown and the hundreds of other towns and villages that we have destroyed. It was not that they were slow or that we overwhelmed them with numbers or whatever the official excuse is. Under the agree
ment they struck with us, we have free rein of the plains, and soon, the mountains, as well.”
“How long have they been working with you?” said Sarzen. His voice shook, as if he was holding back his tears.
“Eleven years,” said the Draymens. “You see, the Elect are not like the rest of your people. The rest of your people have forgotten the Dragon Gods and live their lives as if the Dragon Gods do not even exist; the Elect, however, worship a different god, a better one.”
“They do?” said Sarzen. “Who is this god that they worship?”
Helnia pointed at the statue of the One in front of her. “It’s the One of Shadow, isn’t it?”
The Draymens’ smirk became even wider. “Smarter than you look, female. Yes, they are worshipers of the One. They’re not quite as faithful as us, but the One does not turn away worship from anyone, even from the descendants of the people who slaughtered his servants. In that way, he is wise, much wiser than us.”
“Impossible,” said Sarzen. “Why would any human worship the One?”
“For power, of course,” said the Draymens. “The Elect believe that the One will grant them godhood if they serve him. Many of the old stories do say that the One could grant godhood to his most loyal and faithful of followers. And since humans are particularly drawn to power, it is easy to see why they support him.”
“But how will they get godhood from the One?” said Sarzen. “He’s dead. He was killed in battle by the Dragon Gods a thousand years ago. He isn’t coming back.”
The Draymens shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. The One will rise again. Look at that statue a bit more closely.”
Although Helnia did not like taking her eyes off the Draymens, she nonetheless looked over at the statue of the One more closely than before. So did Sarzen, although he looked even less happy about it than she did.
At first, the statue looked pretty normal, but then Helnia sensed something from within it. It felt like the statue was radiating Raugus energy, but it was a darker feeling, as if the Raugus was polluted. Helnia had never felt anything quite like it before.
The Cursed Lands Page 23