by Kyle Belote
“Clear your mind. Don’t let it wander or you will be ripped away from me, and then I’ll have to go looking for you. Keep your eyes open and watch everything as it unfolds,” Judas instructed.
“Okay,” she answered shakily.
“Right. Here we go, Julie.”
For a brief moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the view around her rippled, like a stone thrown into a smooth lake. The ripples turned into a light mist, fog-like. Everything glowed with a blue hue and engulfed them. The temperature seemed to drop, a cool atmosphere, like stepping out of the sun and into the shade, despite Julie being able to see her breath. The location remained. Then, he put his right hand on Julie’s shoulder and spoke.
“Take one step forward,” he instructed softly.
She obliged and sensed Judas stepping right behind her, his hand still on her shoulder. The ambiance changed, elongated, stretched. The effects persisted, but the environs rippled and blurred out of existence and swirled. She experienced the peculiar sensation they were traveling faster than possible–perhaps thousands of miles per hour. But when she looked down at her feet, they were not moving. Looking back up, in the far distance, she could see their destination, frozen like a picture and rapidly swelling.
As abruptly as the effects started, the swirling stopped. The blue faded as normal colors began to appear. Julie realized they had indeed traveled far, quite possibly to the other side of the Realm. She scanned her surroundings, taking in the change in scenery.
Up ahead were two tall cliff faces on each side of a strip of land that could not have been more than a mile wide. The cliff faces touched briefly at the entrance only, forming an archway. Julie tried to peer past the entrance to see what lay beyond, but the obscurity was deep. Whether the effect was created by the rising sun to the north or by magical properties, she couldn’t tell.
Behind her lay the small village of Cape Gythmel. Men worked farm fields on the outskirts of the town and women were bustling about bringing water to the men, hanging laundry, or baking. Little houses, cottages, and huts with smoking chimneys sprinkled the vibrant green meadow land, and the fields were filled with rich, brown dirt. Julie couldn’t be sure, but from this distance, the roofs appeared thatched. Most were the same boring off-white color as the next house. She noted there were no fences to mark off who owned what property, everyone appeared to get along and discern where the boundaries were.
“That was amazing! How long did the journey take?” she inquired.
“About five seconds.”
“And how far did we travel?”
“Just a few kilometers. I know it seems lazy, but our presence went relatively undetected in Gythmel, and I want to keep our visit that way. Yes, we were seen, but no one was the wiser. If we strolled through town, I may or may not be recognized, and I want to keep Ralloc guessing,” Judas explained. “That opening is the Corridor of Cruelty, and our destination lays on the other side.”
“That thing?” Julie inquired, open-mouthed, pointing.
“Yes, my dear.” Judas started in the direction she pointed.
Julie adjusted her bag on her back and hurried to catch up. “So, Cape Gythmel? Not much there.”
“Very true. It’s the last outpost and the first defense of war. Since there is no more war, it became a settlement for retired soldiers and scabs.”
Looks rather pathetic for the first line of defense.
“Scabs?”
“Conscripted men for the Grand Royal Army, nothing short of indentured servitude.”
“That place is the first defense? It won’t stop much.” Julie glanced back at the settlement. “Anyone else there besides old veterans?”
“Wizards, why do you ask?”
“Just curious, because Troll City isn’t for trolls, so …”
“You remembered?” A bright smile came to his face. He seemed pleased with himself, then switched the subject. “Are you nervous?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Well, once inside, you’ll be more than a little nervous. In fact, you might be downright horrified.”
“What’s in there?”
Judas grew silent for a moment before he spoke. He seemed deeply focused. “Anything that would tax your mind, body, and soul; remember, it’s all in your mind. You can control your mind, but you must learn how to do so.”
Julie considered his answer. “Is there anything in there that I cannot defeat?”
“You mean anything that would destroy you?” Judas asked, glancing at her. “No, it cannot destroy your body; but if you let the Corridor get in here…,” he said, tapping his temple. He grimaced. “You’ll shatter like glass. Magic is in the power of the mind. Though crafted with the incantations you use, if your mind isn’t whole, there is no help for you. Some theorize that the mind is where the magic comes from.” He shook his head. “Be strong and you will do fine. The Corridor reacts to the wielder. You are in the infancy of your learning and it will respond accordingly.”
His answers were vague, like all the answers she had received. She couldn’t shake the impression that he kept something from her. It could have been trivial in nature, but to her, it felt important, profound. As they walked in silence, she pondered on his oblique answers, never fully addressing her questions. She scrutinized him plodding along and vowed to keep her guard up, dissected his words, and beware of his omissions. He didn’t foster trust, and the seeds of resentment took root.
What’s so difficult about getting a straight answer? Why is everything so ambiguous?
Meristal had been upfront with her, told her of Judas’ set ways, which conversations to avoid, and the gist of his personality. Julie detected the latter herself. Julie had no qualms talking with Meristal about the things that bothered her, such as the magelust and the fact that Judas kept his secrets and information close to the chest. The older woman also identified a harsh reality: a wedge would divide them if Judas refused to talk to her. She was right; the rift had already started. A rupture forged between the master and apprentice and continued to grow. Julie was almost certain that he remained unaware of the schism.
Can an apprentice leave their master? How would I even do such a thing? I wonder if Meristal would be willing to teach me.
“I’m still worried,” she admitted aloud, apprehensive.
“And you should be. Not many people venture through here, not normal folks. Only the most powerful go through. Most people that live in the domains south of Ralloc never see the capital. Not unless they want to take the long way through Eastern City and take a ship to the Golden City.”
“There’s another way?” Her interest piqued at the thought of not going through the Corridor of Cruelty.
“Yes,” he smiled at her. “If you want to take a month getting to where you’re going, and that is just one way. Now, what about coming back? It’s expensive and treacherous. You travel the south edge of the Vikal Mountains, following it east until you reach the Golden City. By boat, you travel south until you reach the northern tip of the Infernal Wilderness, and then you travel dead west until you reach the Unicorn Valley. That journey is hard enough, but with me, we’ll go through the Corridor. The journey will aid your training, dear. You have much to master in only a short time; you are much older than anyone else when they discover their abilities. Going through will help mold your mind into iron-hard armor. With that to aid you, everything else will come easy.”
In theory, he means. In silence, the maw loomed larger.
“So, Madam Raviils taught you something? What did she teach you?” Judas sounded neither amused nor displeased with the fact.
“Yeah, she uh … showed me the lighting charm. She said it would come in handy,” Julie explained uneasily.
“She’s right, of course, but you will need a lot more than a light trick.”
“Well, what else is there to know?”
He barked a short laugh. “More than what even a hundred years’ worth of studying will get you. Trust me, I know!
Theory aside, there is a species inside that looks like a flying furry rodent. The true name of the creature is Rafelene. They would be nothing more than a harassment save one thing: they produce a super high-pitch frequency that will shatter your eardrums and cause you to go deaf. If they continue their scream, they will kill you.”
“How long before you go deaf?” Julie asked, frightened.
“A matter of seconds, depending on whether it is an adult or juvenile, but I will teach you the incantation to stop the scream, or to make whatever is causing the noise stop. The spell is useful for other things. Let’s say you are walking on rocks and want to be quieter. You could use the ability on your feet. Assassins have been known to use such conjury.”
The master supplied his student with the incantation and Julie repeated it in her head, saying the words and articulating correctly. She smiled at the possibility of being able to sneak around using a charm on her feet, feeling the glee of childish pranks race through her. Perhaps with this new conjuring, she could go through without being detected.
The warlock instructed in measured tones. Julie listened eagerly at each incantation and a brief description. The first major spell he covered was the mage-shield which responded to her call with ease, far easier than influencing the candle, which she found odd. While she could call the shield almost at will, the protective barrier lacked strength, and her stamina waned.
He explained. “Mage shields are powerful and call upon your essence, depleting your reserves. With time, your endurance will strengthen and if the need arises, you can hold the shield about you while you cast.”
The opening grew darker the closer they ventured. A shiver ran down her spine. Judas instructed her on the incantations for levitation, but the ability was beyond her. She tried lifting rocks along the way, but they refused to wobble. She ground her teeth in frustration and returned to calling on her mage-shield. Each time she did, a spark of satisfaction kindled. Once she called her mage shield half a dozen times, she induced the quiet spell on her feet with mild success. The sound muffled, a shade quieter, but she could still hear each footfall. She practiced the few spells she could muster in her head, running them together in combination. Mageshield, blind with light, silence footfalls. She hoped they would be good enough for now.
The temperature plummeted as they passed from sunlight into shadow, the looming archway dark, and foreboding. “Here we go!” Judas warned a little too excitedly, sending Julie’s nerves skittishly aflutter.
“The most important advice I can give you is to believe what your soul tells you about this place, not your eyes. Remember: this place is all about the power of your mind and your ability to see through the perceived realities and lies,” Judas cautioned.
They took a few more steps, and Julie knew that she was inside the Corridor. A transparent wall of humidity washed over her. Every move she made weighed her down as if tired, sluggish, lethargic. She commanded her body to move against her rebellious desires. A wave of sleepiness crashed over her body; her eyes drooped sharply, but she fought to remain conscious. A creeping sensation of being observed pressed upon her–a thousand eyes gazing upon her every move. The eyes watched and waited.
Heat rippled off her hands, running up her arms, but when she rolled up her sleeves, the heat escaped and chilled her, a hellish medium between rising and falling fever. Her eyes were dry and itched which caused them to water copiously, akin to allergies. Her nostrils dried out and sharp pains lanced through her every time she rubbed her nose, threatening to bleed. Joints stiffened as if full of water, making her movements quiescent and weighted.
An itch clung to the insides of her skin. She willed herself not to scratch at the phantom pain. Her gums felt raw, like rubbing them together behind her back teeth.
When they entered, the sounds, what few they were, became muted. An unseen entity pressed upon her head, like the clogging of water flooding her ears. Her balance, slightly off by the sensation, kept her from moving at full speed.
Torture: that’s what this place was, pure torture. She hadn’t been here long, or had she? She swore she just entered but the more she pondered the possibility, the farther away it seemed. Time stilled, or perhaps ran backward.
Is such a thing even possible? I guess anything could be possible in the world of Ermaeyth.
Julie made a note to ask Judas later.
Noise stirred behind her like someone trampling twigs. A whimper escaped her mouth, startled, and her head snapped in that direction. With eyes peeled, she searched for the origin, the thing that skittered and lurked in the shadows. Her heart hammered unhindered in her chest.
“Easy, dear, there is nothing to be afraid of,” Judas eased. His voice soothed her, calming her anxiety. He cut a striking image, one she graciously latched on to, remembering she was not alone in this cruel place. His sympathetic eyes and fatherly demeanor made her feel a rush of warm affection for him, his voice chasing away the weariness. She almost forgot about his secrecy and the lack of transparency between them. Judas was her rock, more so in this hellish place than ever before. Since setting foot in the Corridor, a tapestry of anguish slowly suffused her until he spoke. He saved her from proverbial drowning, and she was grateful.
She noticed her senses heightened the faster her heart beat, which only compounded the problem. “What is it?” Julie probed, unable to hide the terror in her voice.
“Whatever you want it to be, or whatever you don’t,” Judas answered with a riddle.
Reluctant, she followed in his wake as he ventured further in, her footsteps tepid in his shadow. He stopped suddenly and Julie, who paid attention to her unsure footfalls, ran into his back. Perturbed, she walked around her frozen mentor.
Why am I troubled? Is it me or this place?
She saw why he stopped. Before them, a small makeshift sign obviously built in haste, or at least, appeared to be, halted their progression. Made from old wood and weathered by time, the placard blocked their passage, the engraved letters were burned into the splintered and fraying wood. It read: Three paths ahead; one will be your last, another will surpass, the only one left is right in front of you.
The riddle riled Julie; an irritation stirred, simmering, rising before giving way to despair. “I feel …” she began, but she couldn’t bring it to words. The longer she stared at the sign, the more the agitation boiled. The pressing weight returned in full. Her knees quivered with exhaustion.
How long have we been in here? I shouldn’t be this tired, but I am.
“It is the Corridor that does it and not you. This place will always have you believe that the fault is in you,” Judas intoned, his voice warm. Every time he spoke, his soothing timbers brought her back from the brink, a lifeline reeling her back from the manifestations of cruelty. “Try not to focus on your feelings. Look past them. If you let your emotions control you, you will be destroyed by them rather than guided by a sound mind. Emotions are very powerful, and if you use them to embolden your magic, they will hastily deplete your stamina, leaving you vulnerable. Try to concentrate, my dear.”
She listened to his words, watching him. As he spoke, he made eye contact with her but now that he finished, his head moved, his eyes roaming behind Julie and into the dark, gloomy scenic tapestry around them. She almost passed it off as idle curiosity due to the leisure pace his eyes roved, but she realized the truth. He watched, searching for signs of stirring. His gaze returned to her; his eyes danced over her face, noting things she could not see.
“Who around here likes to speak in rhymes?” Julie complained, perplexed. She waged an internal war, mustering control of her sentiments.
“No one. It’s part of the Corridor, confusing and antagonizing. The land reads your mind and forms its tasks to be counter-productive, making you exceed your comfort zones. What do you think?” Judas solicited, pointing at the sign.
“I think we’re screwed!” Julie read the caveat again for any hint into its mysteries. “Yep, subtly saying: we’re screwed.�
� She almost laughed then, a rush of manic lunacy greeting her warmly like an old friend. Not a bark laughter of happiness. The rising pressure of madness buckled her mind. A buzz grew behind her amber eyes, filling her ears, a building strain making decisive thinking a futile gesture. For a brief moment she forgot … and then she regained the evading, slippery thoughts.
“Well, why don’t you chose one?” Judas offered.
“Me! What? Are you crazy?” Julie cried in distress. She ground her teeth, the itching of her gums relieved by the pressure. “I hate it here!”
Judas regarded her closely. His face said what his words did not, that the Corridor’s powers gnawed at her sanity and he didn’t know how much more she could take.
“Hate means nothing here, and it will not help you. I remember when I first entered the Corridor–.”
“Please,” Julie snapped, cutting him off. “I don’t care about when you came through. How does that help me now?” She groaned aloud, a guttural noise in her throat. “I’m so agitated!”
“One can often learn from the mistakes of the past,” Judas remarked, his voice gentle. “The task is at hand. Even if you were to go out the way you came, you would still face an obstacle. Doing nothing goes nowhere, do something and be somewhere.”
Julie debated making a snide remark at the old man’s cryptic message, but she deemed a long debate would ensue, and she didn’t want that at this point. She focused, reading the words over and over until they tumbled in her mind, filling her, drowning out the buzzing sensation.
Three paths ahead; one will be your last, another will surpass, the only one left is right in front of you. The only one left. Right in front of you. Does that mean the middle or the only path is to the left? Or does it mean the right path will lead me to the front?
“Clear your mind,” Judas cautioned.