Devouring Darkness

by Bradley Counter

Garen woke with a cough and groaned as he noticed a bright light all around him. Reflexively, he tried to raise his right arm to shield his eyes and cried out as pain raced across his chest and shoulder. Taking a moment to let the pain subside, he tried to remember what had happened to him.

  Oh, that’s right; the floor caved in and dragged me down with it. I was almost certain that I was going to die. I suppose I’m glad that I’m still alive, but I could do without all of this pain.

  Garen tried to move his legs and realized too late that they'd been holding him in his precarious position upon a slab of broken stone. Once his left leg moved, he tumbled down the inclined surface and smashed into the ground on his already-pain-filled, right shoulder. Agony washed over him. Upon coming to a rest on the stone floor, he lay motionless for several minutes in a state of severe pain.

  Taking a deep breath in preparation, Garen forced himself to sit up, using his left arm to support himself. As he tried to move his body, he became aware of just how much his body had been through. Stiffness and exhaustion seemed to have filled his entire body in equal amounts. Pain seeped through his veins like a poison, spreading throughout his body without mercy. It was all he could do just to hold himself in a sitting position as he tried to gain his bearings.

  Daggers of pain pierced his neck as he slowly turned his head to look around. His vision was slightly blurred, but, as it hurt to blink, he simply ignored it. He appeared to be in a grand hall of some kind filled with rows of immense pillars supporting a ceiling 50 feet high. Looking up above him, he could see the ragged, gaping hole across the ceiling where he’d fallen through.

  How in the name of Anedae could I’ve possibly survived a fall like that?

  Looking down at himself, he could see that he was truly in bad shape. His right shoulder was fiery red and swollen to nearly twice its normal size. Only a few inches from his shattered shoulder, a shard of black stone had stabbed through the right side of his chest narrowly missing his lung. Blood covered much of the remainder of his body stemming from a variety of cuts and gashes, leaving him even more confused as to how he was still alive.

  Before he lost the nerve to do so, Garen reached up with his left hand and seized the shard of black stone lodged in his chest. He grimaced as even more pain flared in his chest, but his resolve never wavered. With a sharp jerk, he pulled the shard free and dropped it to the ground beside him.

  I should be dead after a fall from up there, but not only am I alive, I’m still able to move. Actually, considering what all I’ve gone through recently, I’m in pretty good shape, though that doesn’t make any of it hurt any less. I need to try and find out where I am and see if I can get out of here before another piece of the ceiling falls and crushes me.

  Teeth clenched against the pain, Garen groaned as he forced his way to his feet. His legs were covered with various cuts and felt oddly stiff, but they were otherwise unharmed. Despite the nearly fatal fall, his legs still seemed able to bear his weight without much difficulty.

  I can’t believe that I can still stand; I must be made of tougher stuff than I thought.

  Through both the pain of his body and his slightly blurry vision, he was able to make out the remnants of the ramp that he’d seen from above. The ramp was situated in the middle of a wall that stretched for 20 feet on either side. Looking around in a slow circle, Garen saw that the ramp and the wall that it was situated against were roughly at the center of the massive room that he was standing in.

  Why is there a wall in the middle of this place? Could it be a room of some kind?

  The bright light that filled the air still stung his eyes and made his head ache even more. Glancing around, he realized where all of the light was coming from: large portions of the walls, floor, ceiling, and even the giant columns were covered in glowstones. The light coming off of the combined amount of them filled the massive hall with a light bright enough to rival high noon in The World of Light.

  Looking closely at the nearest glowstone, which covered the floor beside his right foot, he noticed that it was as smooth as the floor around it. Using his foot, he brushed across it and was surprised to find that it was level with the rest of the floor.

  That part of the floor isn’t covered with glowstones; it’s been transformed into one. That can only mean that this is where Orlon Rin used his powers against Gormum during their legendary battle. This is the throne room.

  Stiff and sore, but reinvigorated by his discovery, Garen decided to leave the pile of broken rock and glowstones that he'd fallen with behind and search the area. Slowly, he started to make his way toward the center of the room. He was thoroughly determined to locate the gallovine before any of the demons could reach it, and he felt that the center of the room was the best place to start.

  There must be something more to that wall behind the ramp. Even if I don't find anything at the center, it’s still the best place from which to see the rest of the hall.

  As he neared the center of the room, some of the stiffness left his muscles, but it was quickly replaced by more pain and a startling amount of fatigue. He realized that it had been over a day since he'd last slept or eaten and it was beginning to take its toll on him. Forcing his mind away from the pain and weariness of his body, he tried to look around for any sign of the gallovine.

  I need to find it quickly; I don't think I'm going to last much longer.

  Garen knew that the great battle between Orlon Rin and Gormum had happened right where he was walking. Scorch marks and cracks covered nearly as much of the floor and columns as the glowstones did. As he walked past one of the massive 10 foot wide columns, he noticed that even the parts that had been transformed into glowstones had cracks in them.

  They must have been fighting incredibly hard before Orlon Rin used his power; all of the cracks were already in the stone before it was transformed.

  Cracks and scorch marks became increasingly frequent with each step that he took towards the wall at the center of the room. Many of the columns supporting the ceiling had been severely damaged in the battle that took place centuries earlier, and each appeared more ragged than the last. One of the last columns that he passed before reaching the wall was missing a chunk out of its side big enough for him to walk through.

  After a few minutes of slow, painful walking, he finally reached the wall and walked along it until he reached its end. Rounding the end of the wall revealed another wall 40 feet away running parallel to the first. Between the two walls, resting on a raised dais was the largest chair that he'd ever laid eyes on. Twice as large as a normal chair, it rose up to nearly seven feet high.

  That must be Gormum’s throne. I’d look like a child sitting in a chair that big; how huge was he?

  The throne was carved from the same thick, black stone as everything else in the ruins, but it was also half covered in glowstones. It seemed to have a bitter, evil aura pouring forth from it despite the bright glowstones that covered half of its surface.

  In awe, Garen walked towards it. His pain and soreness were nearly forgotten as his attention was wholly focused on the throne. Carefully, Garen stepped up onto the dais and approached the huge, stone throne. It looked to have been at the center of the fighting. The throne, as well as the dais around it, was pocked and cracked as if had been exposed to intense heat of some kind.

  As he moved even closer, Garen noticed that something had carved a hole in the chair's high back right in the center of a patch of glowstones. Once he'd reached the throne, he saw that the hole had been bored straight through it and was large enough for him to fit his hand in.

  Those two really were going all out, this place is a mess. I can’t even begin to imagine the powers that they were using against each other. I mean, how did they manage to make a hole this big through solid stone without even cracking it?

  Garen stepped right up to the giant, stone chair and inspected the throne closely. The stone surface immediately around the hole seemed different than the rest of the chair. The glowst
one surface of the hole looked smoother than the surrounding stone and it had a glass-like sheen.

  Whatever made this hole was extremely hot, because the rock has been flash-melted somehow. I just don’t understand how something could do that without affecting the rest of the throne.

  Curious to see what was directly at the other end of the hole; he lowered his head slightly to peer through it. The bright light of the glowstone around the hole made him squint for a moment, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Through the glaring blaze of light, he managed to make out something red on the opposite end of the hole.

  “What the-” he said in surprise. “There shouldn’t be anything red down here.”

  But he realized what he'd seen before the words had even left his lips. Garen jerked his head back from the hole and a painful twinge surged through his neck, but he hardly noticed. He scrambled around the throne as fast as his ragged body would allow. Renewed vigor filled him as he saw the red object on the edge of the dais behind the throne.

  “Is that really the gallovine?” he asked in surprise.

  Only a few feet away stood the most bizarre plant that he'd ever laid eyes on. The gallovine appeared to be a twisted cluster of red, leathery cords that wove together to form a stunted, misshapen tree. At its base, the gallovine was over a foot wide with roots extending in all directions across the black stone floor. It narrowed as it rose until it reached a height of four feet. At that point the gallovine tapered down to a single cord that curled over and hung to one side. The entire plant was covered in tiny black thorns that looked both daunting and wickedly sharp.

  It has to be the gallovine. I can’t believe that I’ve really found it. If I can keep the demons from getting their hands on this, I can save countless lives.

  Garen's excitement lasted for only a few short seconds before it abruptly vanished. A chill crept up his spine as realization dawned on him

  Why am I not getting sick? Cassandra made it sound like I would die just by going near this thing, but I don’t feel any different than before. I can nearly reach out and touch it; surely I should be feeling the effects of all that demonic energy by now, right?

  Garen remembered the odd, evil aura that had seemed to come from the throne as he'd approached it from the other side. He silently cursed as he realized what he'd been feeling had actually been the demonic energy of the gallovine.

  It’s too late now. I’ve already been close to this thing for a few minutes now, if it was going to kill me, I’d be dead by now.

  His attention returned to the gallovine and, as he glared at it, he noticed that the red color was actually two distinct colors mottled together: a brownish, rust red and a deep, bloody crimson. The countless thorns that covered the plant's tangled exterior all had the distinctive coloring and sheen of black beetle carapaces, but they looked far more menacing. Shiny and sharp, the thick thorns popped out of the plant as if struggling to be free of the leathery tentacles from which they protruded. Despite the plant's overall sickening appearance, a single feature of it stood out from the rest and the sight of it made his stomach turn.

  Garen swallowed hard and took another step towards the gallovine. Hanging from the lone, leathery tendril at the top of the gallovine was a small pear-shaped object. He knew at once that it was the fruit that both Cassandra and Babossa so desperately sought to attain.

  The fruit, unlike the gallovine itself, wasn’t red; it instead had a pale, creamy hue. It was about the size of a chicken egg, but the color was a few shades darker. The fruit appeared to be nearly flesh-toned, but at the same time it seemed somehow dirty. Garen stared at it in revulsion.

  I worked so hard and came all this way for this thing; it looks like a dirty, chicken egg shaped like a pear? Cassandra never told me that the gallovine would be this disturbing.

  He thought he heard a faint sound from somewhere up above him, but he quickly dismissed it as his imagination. His attention was wholly focused on the gallovine fruit hanging in front of him.

  What exactly am I supposed to do with this thing now that I’ve found it? I’m so close to it that I could easily reach out and grab it, but I don’t know if I should. It may be that for some reason I can stand near it without being affected, but that doesn’t mean that touching it won’t still kill me. Or maybe Cassandra was lying about it being deadly at all.

  A distant rumble shattered the silence around him. As the rumbling quickly faded, Garen stood frozen, not knowing what to expect. He knew, unlike before, that the sound had not been imagined: he'd felt as well as heard it.

  After a few minutes of waiting for an indication of what to do, two more rumbling sounds echoed down to him from above. He stared up at the ceiling nervously, unsure of who or what was causing the violent rumbling but certain that it wasn't good.

  I don’t know what the heck is happening, but I can’t let anyone get their hands on this fruit. If I have to die to keep it from them, so be it. I will gladly give my life to keep others from going through this nightmare, but I can't afford to just stand around here any longer. I need to do something. Now.

  His resolve filled him with courage and he pushed his fears aside. With his right hand, he reached out and grasped the pale, dingy fruit. As his fingers closed around its pallid flesh, he half expected something dramatic to occur, but nothing happened.

  The gallovine fruit looked like a dingy, pear-shaped egg, but it felt nothing like he'd expected. The skin was smooth and cool to the touch, and though he'd expected it to be hard and brittle like an egg, the fruit yielded to gentle pressure from his fingers. The tough skin and soft interior reminded him oddly of an orange, but it felt much heavier than any normal fruit. It was too heavy. The fruit defied its small size and seemed to weigh more than two pounds as if it were made of lead.

  With only a slight tug, the fruit broke free of the gallovine accompanied by a crisp, snapping sound. The moment that its fruit was torn free, the gallovine seemed to swoon slightly and the color rapidly faded from red to gray. One by one, the leathery tendrils withered and fell to the ground. As he watched, the gallovine rotted away before his eyes and in moments all that remained was a mass of gray, rotting mulch.

  Another series of pounding sounds resounded from above. Unlike the first few, these didn’t stop right away and only seemed to grow in intensity. Garen could hear the stone beginning to crack from behind one of the walls that flanked Gormum’s ruined throne.

  He carefully stepped down from the dais and rounded the corner. A second ramp stood a dozen steps away that mirrored the other one exactly. He gazed up at the ceiling by the top of the ramp and saw that the nearby stone was cracked in several places. While he watched, the cracks grew and spread across the ceiling breeding new cracks along the way.

  Garen stepped closer to the source of the violent rumbling even as the pounding grew louder and more forceful. Chunks of rock began falling away from the growing web of cracks and came crashing to the ground several feet in front of him.

  Propelled forward by a feeling that he didn't understand, Garen only stopped advancing when a piece of rock as big as his head broke free of the ceiling and smashed into the ground only a few feet in front of him. He watched in shock as the falling chunks became bigger and bigger and the ground vibrated with the impact of each one that fell.

  I should be hiding. The ceiling is going to come down any second and whatever is causing it to fall is not something that I want to meet. Why in the name of the Goddess did I walk over here anyway?

  He suddenly became aware of the weight in his hand. He remembered the gallovine fruit that he was holding and looked down at it. The dingy fruit somehow seemed menacing as if it were not just a fruit, but a sentient being capable of plotting something sinister.

  Is this thing somehow influencing me?

  Before he could think up an answer to his own question, the ceiling finally gave way with a sharp, resounding crack. A torrent of black rock and glowstone chunks poured down directly in front of him. He saw somet
hing huge fall as well, half concealed within the rock shower. An icy tingle ran up the back of his neck as he watched the half-concealed giant form crash to the ground less than twenty feet from where he was standing.

  The downpour of stone was deafening and shook the ground beneath his feet, but the half-hidden thing within the downpour was much larger than any of the stones. When it struck the ground, Garen was nearly knocked off his feet by the intense shockwave. A wave of dust flew up and out from the fallen stones in a great plume further obscuring his vision.

  Garen was surprised to find that he was still unharmed. He'd been so close to the collapsing ceiling that he’d been certain that a random chunk of falling stone would crush him. Startled by his own fortunate survival, he stood staring at the cloud of dust fearing what had come down within it.

  What was that thing; it was outrageously huge?

  He held his breath as the dust started to settle around him and a giant shape within the dust cloud began to stir. Moment by moment, as the dust thinned, the shape became clearer and more terrifying. In spite of the strange compulsion that had made him remain by the falling stones, Garen took a step backward as the shape finally became visible through the obscuring dust.

  Rising to its feet atop the pile of broken stone was the most massive creature that Garen had ever seen. A colossus of muscle and flesh driven by unknown demonic intentions, it slowly moved its horned head from side to side as if searching for something.

  Garen was gripped by a fear more potent than any he had ever known in his life. His legs trembled and he wanted desperately to be anywhere else. All traces of courage fled from him and he nearly lost control of his bladder, but then he noticed that the giant demon was holding something. Dangling from its left hand was a battered, ragged form that he knew at once.

  “Cassandra!” he shouted, regaining some small measure of courage.

  He surprised himself with both his sudden display of foolish bravery and the amount of raw emotion that surged within him upon seeing her unmoving body. His fear and the agonizing pain of his own body forgotten, he focused solely on Cassandra. At some point since he'd last seen her, she had transformed from a demon back into a human. Her body looked small and frail next to the towering demon that held her like she was nothing more than a rag doll.

  The demon turned its head, finally taking note of him. With a look of utter contempt the giant demon glared down at him. Its single, remaining eye bored into him with a look of unconcealed hatred and rage.