Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series)

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Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series) Page 24

by Guyton, David J.


  Once they left the altar the red light faded and the room was once again cast in a purple glow. The torches on either side of the doorway took on a more reddish color, marking that particular doorway as the one that the altar had showed them. They approached it, but saw nothing but blackness on the other side.

  Rommus reached out and put his arm through the doorway. As he had seen in the Land of the Gods at the golden temple, and also at the temple on the water in Itheria, there was a darkness shrouding what was beyond. There was a similar effect under the hood of the robes of Inshae, and also in his own helmet when he wore the fill armor of Arius. Since he could not see his arm on the other side, he knew that there was some sort of magical barrier at the doorway—but it was one they could step through.

  Both of them walked into the blackness and were slightly shocked to see what was on the other side. It wasn't another decorated room with carved doorways or arches. It was a cave, lit by some unseen source. The doorway behind them was an exact copy of the carved doorway on the other side, but nothing else in the cave had ever been touched by a chisel. Stalactites and stalagmites protruded from the ceiling and floor, making the cave look like the jaws of a giant beast ready to devour them. Emerald pools of water were as still as glass, reflecting the ceiling above.

  A path meandered between the stalagmites and led to a larger body of water. While the surface was still as flat as glass, the green water was clearly moving. The water also had swirling streams of light flowing beneath the surface. The ethereal light reflecting off of the ceiling was probably how the cave appeared to be lit in the darkness.

  An ancient stone bridge spanned the strange river. They crossed the bridge in silence, noting that the water was as quiet as they were. Even their footfalls on the stone didn't seem to offer any sound to bring life to the bizarre world around them, and Rommus cleared his throat several times just to make sure that sound was still possible.

  On the other side of the river, the cave opened up into a larger area. The rear wall was unseen, as the darkness swallowed up all the light. The cave appeared as if it went on for miles and miles underground; a gaping maw of infinite black waiting to consume any who dared to go near.

  Standing before the blackness were two enormous statues. They were not statues of men or of manlike creatures like the statues lining the Mages' room above. These were not even carved with great precision, and instead appeared to be unfinished beasts with only general shapes. They were undoubtedly ancient, as cracks blemished their surface and chunks had broken off in places.

  They were hunched over, on all fours, with longer arms than legs. Their heads appeared to be too big for their bodies, and great horns of rock curled forward from the rear of the skulls. They were thick with stone muscle, and not delicately carved like an artist would attempt. Beauty was not important to whatever ancient craftsmen had made them. Instilling fear with the sight of their creations seemed to be the only goal. Even though they were made of simple rock, they were a truly horrific, terrifying sight.

  But then something even more horrifying caught Rommus's attention. Between the statues stood a thing that could only be described as shadow and light. It generally took the form of a man in hooded robes, although at times it seemed to lose its form and reform itself. Black strands of shadow enveloped an inner core of yellow luminance. The light inside seemed to fight to exit, but the prison of whirling shadows would not allow it. When the light began moving too violently, the whole entity would disappear and reappear nearby.

  Song was stunned with fear. This strange being was probably what has been haunting him in his visions, and he was suddenly unable to cope with seeing it in front of his waking eyes. His visions always allowed him to wake up from the nightmare he saw, but this thing before him was real. There was no way to escape the nightmare standing between the statues this time.

  Rommus grabbed his arm. "Song, are you alright?"

  Song could only blink. His mouth hung open as if he were about to scream, but no sound could escape from his throat. His skin was slick with sweat, and his body was visibly quaking. Rommus shook him gently to try to bring him to his senses, but it seemed that he was in a trance that he could not snap out of.

  Rommus stood up from their position behind a boulder and dragged Song up with him. He walked nearer to the ghostly being and came to a halt before it. Song came along with him, but only because he seemed to lack the energy to resist. He stood there staring at the creature of shadow and Rommus had to hold him up or he would have collapsed to the cave floor.

  Rommus spoke in the direction of the being, although it disappeared and reappeared several times. "I am Rommus of the bloodline Tirinius. This is Erratus Ridoria. We seek passage into the void."

  The voice that answered him was unexpected. It was the voice of the wind with a hint of thunder. It shook the room but it was as quiet as a whisper. It was a frightening sound; something out of a nightmare or the call from the world beyond to cross over at death.

  "I know who you are," the being uttered.

  "And you are Demeos, correct?"

  "I am. I am the keeper of the gate."

  "Demeos, we have come to ask permission to enter your realm. The god of life has told me that I can restore my powers inside the void. May we pass?"

  "I cannot stop you from entering the void, for the void is not my domain."

  "I thought you were the guardian of the void. Where is your domain if it isn't the void?"

  "This is my domain, in the place between the void and your world. I am not the guardian; I am the master of the guardians and they serve me. They do not care what goes into the void; they are concerned with what comes out. You may pass into the underworld of the void, but there is no protection from the guardians if you should ever return. The rider of light is the only one afforded protection."

  "The rider of light?" Rommus asked.

  "Your companion, Erratus Ridoria; the rider of the light and keeper of the jewel."

  "Me?" Song squeaked. "Why am I safe when Rommus is not?"

  "You are safe because the eyes of the guardians cannot see you. No other is safe from the guardians when crossing from the void into this realm. They are charged with keeping the void shut and will destroy anything that comes out of the darkness. They have no choice in the matter."

  "So we're safe to enter, but we are doomed if we exit?" Rommus asked.

  "You are doomed, god of war. The rider of light will come to no harm. The guardians cannot allow a soul to exit the void, for what enters the void is not always what comes out. They will not allow such a threat to cross over into this realm."

  Rommus ran a hand down his face. "So no one has ever successfully gone into the void and then come out?"

  "The rider of light has done so many times. Even you, god of war, have done so twice, though not through this gate."

  Song looked over at Rommus and whispered. "I don't know what he's talking about. I have never been here before. And I don't know what a rider of light is."

  "He means time traveler. It has something to do with traveling on the light. But you have been here before, Song—just not as your young self. If you were having visions of this place, then obviously at some point in your future you end up here. That future is the past for Demeos. He has encountered you before, as an older man than you are now."

  "I see. Well what are we supposed to do? He says if you go in there, you'll be killed on the way out. Should I go in alone?"

  Rommus shook his head. "No, there's nothing you can do in there to help me. Terinopus said that part of my soul is trapped in the void, and I am the only one who can go get it."

  "I am going with you, Rommus. You couldn't have made it passed the door without my help. You wouldn't have known what the voice said when it asked where we wanted to go. There's no telling what else you might need me for in there. I want to help. Besides, apparently I'm the only one who can go in there and get out safely."

  "I won't stop you from coming with me, S
ong. But I can't send you in there alone. I have to go in even if it means I might never make it back out alive. I cannot risk being assassinated by the gods and not being there to protect my people. I have to risk this to get my powers back."

  "But what good is it if these guardians kill you when you come out? It's all for nothing."

  Rommus sighed. "I am hoping that the guardians he speaks of can't kill someone who has the powers of a god. Since I was able to open that door, obviously there's still some hint of the power inside me, but certainly not enough to protect me from anything. If I can fix the problem and get my powers back, then maybe I'll have protection too."

  Song looked over to Demeos. "Is a god protected from the guardians?"

  "No god has ever come out of this gate to face the guardians."

  Song leaned in closer to Rommus to whisper again. "Wait a minute, Rommus. I think this might be a trap. If it takes a god and a man to open the door to get down here, then how do I ever do it without you with me? I don't think any of the other gods are going to be inclined to help me in the future—or I guess I mean past."

  Rommus shifted his jaw from left to right as he thought. "Demeos, who made the door leading from this place back to our world?"

  "The rider of the light is the architect of the door."

  "Well that answers that question," Rommus whispered. "If you're the one who made the door, then you were the one who decided when to seal it and how to open it. You left yourself a clue carved into it to know how to get it open in our time."

  "This is all very confusing," Song said as he brought a hand to his forehead.

  "I'm sure it all makes better sense at the end of our lives. For now we have to brave an unknown world beyond this one. Our destiny calls out to us from over there in that blackness. Are you still with me? Will you follow me into that dangerous world?"

  Song nodded and stood up straighter. "I will."

  The two of them walked between the statues as the flitting soul of Demeos disappeared and reappeared all around them. He stayed with them a while until the darkness near the back of the cave became thick and dark. Soon there was nothing but darkness surrounding them, and the light of the real world went out.

  Chapter 38

  Tannis jerked away from the servant bandaging his shoulder and put his tunic back on. The wound he had suffered wasn't a bad one, but troublesome enough that it would constantly tear open and stick to his clothing. When the blood would dry, it would bond with the fabric and tear open again. Allowing someone to bandage him during a battle was certainly a rare situation, but he wanted the buffer of a bandage between his shoulder and clothing.

  The Bhoors had stopped using the Thrahks in their onslaught, and relied only on soldiers and cavalry. On occasion they tried to employ chariots, but none of their attacks came to fruition. The best they could do from their chariots was to send a few arrows over the line before turning around and running away. Almost all Medorans at or near the line were heavily armored, so the arrows never did any serious harm. Every now and then a lucky arrow would hit a bare shoulder or arm, but the Bhoors eventually gave up on using their expensive arrows on the futile attempt. The Medoran archers had also stopped firing arrows, since the Bhoors were picking them up and using the arrows themselves.

  The battle had degraded into more simplistic man-to-man confrontations. There was occasionally a magical attack from the Zidaoz from atop the walls of Taburdum, but since there were many Mages situated among the ranks that could defend such attacks, the Zidaoz had quit trying. The Mages would also send streams of magic up over the walls or out into the army on the battlefield, but it seemed to drain them and it had become a rare occurrence.

  But sword and spear still pounded on armor. The Bhoors could never quite work out a way to effectively attack the phalanx, but their sheer numbers were taxing the Medoran Legions. After two or three hours of fighting, the Medorans would rotate out exhausted soldiers for rested ones. But their replacements had very little rest between battles. The Bhoors, on the other hand, could always afford to send in brand new troops. The Zidaoz relentlessly sent wave after wave of soldiers to crash against the Medorans to try to weaken the lines and eventually break them.

  Tannis hated to be away from the battle. He knew that the only way to lead men was from in front of them, and not pushing them towards pointy swords from behind. But after many weeks of battle, he was just unable to be on the field every day. There was much more to the war than just swinging a sword. There was planning attacks and defenses. There was organizing movements of troops. There was arranging for food and water to arrive at certain places at certain times. He had to invent ways to trick the enemy, as well as study their tactics and guess at their trickery. He had to orchestrate attacks on their supply lines to try to choke off their food, water and other supplies. None of the soldiers would ever admit it while fighting, but getting paid was an important part too. Tannis had to make sure that the soldiers would have the money to feed their families when they could finally walk away from the battle.

  There was also the Mages to deal with. They generally stayed out of the way and kept to themselves, but he sometimes had to give them instructions or receive information from them. The Mages were not soldiers, and were not under any oath to follow orders from him or any of the other soldiers. If the orders were simple, they would usually obey; but anything complicated would be ignored. They would wait until the orders came directly from Uritus, and that extra step almost always caused problems.

  With all of these complications, Tannis had been spending a lot less time on the battlefield and a lot more time behind a desk in Brinn. He thought it was less than admirable, but it was simply a reality that he and his men had to accept. No one ever complained about his absence, but he was always concerned with setting the very best example he could for his men.

  Tannis pulled the still unfamiliar sword at his hip free of its scabbard and marched back out into the battle. He ignored the sting of his wound and began hacking and slashing next to his men. Most of the Bhoors had never seen him, and they were always shocked by his size. Tannis was a head taller than the tallest Medorans, and the Bhoors were far smaller than the average Medoran. He was truly a giant among them, and their paralyzing fear of him made it easy to get a blade in them before they had a chance to swing their own.

  For a while they tried to best him, but soon they parted in front of him. As the soldiers made an opening, they became silent, and turned away from the Medoran army and looked back at their own. The din of battle died down all over as soldiers from both sides grew curious about what was happening.

  Then Tannis saw what had brought the battle to a halt. Strolling up through the Bhoors' ranks in his typical swagger was the heavily-armored Desmond Afornn. Several Vindyri soldiers followed behind him; some of them attempting to mimic his arrogant strut. He removed his helmet as his men formed a semicircle behind him.

  "Tannis Tirinius. It has been a long time, old friend."

  On Tannis's signal, Medoran soldiers formed a similar semicircle behind him. "Old, yes. Friend, no. I see that time has not been kind to you. I barely recognized you with all that gray hair."

  Desmond pulled the sword from his hip. "Yes, I thought you might not recognize me, so I brought this along so you would know who I was."

  Desmond brandished the black sword so that all the Medorans could see it. He held it up as a trophy, showing the opposing army that he had somehow bested Tannis at some point in the past, taking his most prized possession from him. In reality, it was Rommus who he had stolen it from, but that would not get in the way of Desmond's theatrics.

  Tannis crossed his arms. "That's a nice sword you've got there."

  Desmond laughed. "I agree. You know, Tannis, I have been fantasizing about killing you with this sword for a long time now. I have had dreams about it. But now here I am in front of you, and I just don't think I can bring myself to do it."

  "No? Why not?"

  "Well because it
's just too easy. While I admit it would be a unique twist of fate to murder you with the sword you have been murdering with for decades, it just somehow isn't quite fitting enough. It's just not the perfect ending I was hoping it would be. It's just not that storybook ending I was hoping for."

  "The storybooks are written by the victors, Desmond. You'd better hope you can kill me."

  "Well, only one of us will leave this circle alive, old friend. Whatever stories are written about us afterwards doesn't really matter. All I really care about is watching the light go out of your eyes. This army behind me will eventually roll over your Legions and then the rest of Medora. I'm glad that I finally found you on the battlefield before they slaughtered you."

  "Yeah, I have been busy trying to stop your invasion of a peaceful nation. That takes up a lot of my time. So sorry that I couldn't meet you out here sooner. Are you going to stop talking so we can do this, or what?"

  Desmond stuck the point of Tannis's sword into the soil. "No weapons."

  Tannis did the same with his sword and cracked his knuckles. "If that's how you want it."

  The men eyed each other up as they circled each other. The soldiers around them had ceased fighting entirely and instead fought for the best positions to watch from. Silence fell over the crowd and only the gentle flap of banners could be heard on the breeze. Tannis, Desmond, and everyone watching were alert with nervous anticipation.

  Tannis threw the first punch but missed. Desmond landed a punch in his stomach, knocking all the air from his lungs and nearly knocking him to the ground. Tannis stumbled back a step, and then lunged at Desmond. When Desmond backed up a step and dug in his heels, Tannis landed a solid punch to his jaw.

 

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