Into Oblivion (Book 4)

by Shawn E. Crapo

  Faeraon’s eyes lit up as a smile slowly spread across his face.

  “You speak the truth?” he asked. “Is it possible?”

  “The spell was cast by someone I am very familiar with,” Farouk said. “It can be broken.”

  Farouk reached into his cloak, withdrawing the skull. He showed it to Faeraon who looked upon it with sadness. It was disheartening to see his daughter’s remains, and even more so to see the strange inscriptions that had enslaved her for so long.

  “These vile symbols… what are they?”

  “They are an ancient language of Earth,” the Druid replied. “They were written by a primitive shaman who has somehow lived for thousands of years. He was only recently killed by my friend, the Onyx Dragon. I was not aware of who this shaman really was until now.”

  “I will come with you,” Faeraon said. “I will do whatever it takes to save my people… and my daughter.”

  Farouk put the skull back into his cloak, taking Faeraon’s hand while focusing on walking through the rift.

  “Come, my friend,” he said.

  With one last look at his home, Faeraon turned to the portal, and the two of them faded away.

  The Corruptor thrashed around in the Ether, cursing and hissing spells as he fought against the cosmic tides. The endless expanse of swirling dark matter seemed to tighten around him, threatening to crush him within its unearthly grasp. He tore at it with his clawed hands, his magic ripping small lacerations in the dark reality and releasing small amounts of dark matter into the Prima. Finally, with one last effort he blasted the Ether with his mind, tearing open a portal back to Earth.

  He landed square on the grassy hills outside of a small village. Around him, the bits of dark matter annihilated itself with a deafening blast. He shielded his face from the blinding light, but cursed the fact that his entrance had been announced so obviously.

  The nearby villagers would have heard the annihilation and would come to investigate.

  Breathless, he rose to his feet, taking in the scenery outside the town. The sky was overcast and gray, and a mist hung in the air that gathered on his dark cloak.

  Clutching his cowl tighter around his face, he started off away from the village. He could take shelter among the trees or caves to regain his strength and find his bearings. Then, he could make another attempt at fulfilling his mission.

  Ironically, he had predicted the failure of Akharu, but had failed himself. He cursed, gritting his teeth in anger. The Lifegiver would not be pleased.

  No matter, he thought. The rift would be closed soon enough. For now, he could, perhaps, go on to Morduin. There, he could find this Onyx Dragon and put an end to his reign. Despite the Corruptor’s failure, he would prove his worth to Absu.

  He would prove it or die… again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Khalid and Dagda arrived at a massive cavern. The ceiling was unbelievably high, and gigantic stalagmites and stalactites met with each other to form column-like structures that gave the cavern the appearance of a larger than life temple.

  Scattered among the natural columns were the ruins of strange structures; crumbled and caked with deposits of natural stone. They were of an unknown and seemingly alien architecture that gave Khalid a sense of discomfort. They were obscene in his eyes; having components that did not make sense to him.

  There were step pyramids, archways that seemed to serve no purpose and stone obelisks that were adorned with odd pictograms that were geometric in nature.

  “What is this place?” he finally asked.

  “A very ancient city,” the Dragon replied. “Much older than anything on the surface.”

  “Who do you suppose built it?”

  The Dragon shrugged. “That is a good question, Khalid. I have never seen it. Nor have I ever sensed the presence of anything sentient beneath the surface.”

  “Could this be a Druaga city?”

  “I do not think so,” the Dragon said, scanning the ruins. “The structures are far too large for their needs.”

  As the two of them approached the nearest building, Khalid saw that the Dragon’s statement was true. The doorways and arches of the city were even taller than Dagda’s human form. Whoever had built this city was much taller than the average man. Khalid hated to think of what species would have been capable of building such a place so far back in history.

  “Were men not the first sentient beings on this world?” Khalid asked. “Other than the Firstborn, of course.”

  “The Great Mother keeps many secrets,” the Dragon replied. “She has never mentioned any race before. But that doesn’t mean anything. If she kept this race a secret, she probably has her reasons. However, I do not know why she would create a sentient being and then keep it underground.”

  “Perhaps this Theia created it,” Khalid offered.

  “That is possible. But considering the appearance of these ruins, this race was undoubtedly vile and destructive. Look.”

  Khalid followed the Dragon’s gaze to a huge pit that lay a ways away. The pit was completely filled with what looked like bones; human-sized bones. Khalid gulped, realizing that these were most likely the victims of human sacrifice.

  The two walked to the edge of the pit, kneeling down to examine the bones. Though appearing mostly human, the skulls that were present—some of them at least—appeared more ape-like.

  “What are these creatures?” Khalid asked.

  “Archaic humanoid forms,” Dagda replied. “A species that lived before humans, and during their youth.”

  “These are not the ones who built this city,” Khalid remarked. “They are smaller than men.”

  “They lived on the surface, too. If the builders of this city encountered them, then they either went to the surface, or these creatures found their way down here somehow.”

  “How far into the Earth are we?” Khalid asked.

  Dagda patted Khalid’s back. “We are underneath the ocean, my friend.”

  “But how…”

  Khalid sighed, perturbed as to how a primitive form of humanoid could have ventured so far into the bowels of the Earth—beneath the oceans, no less.

  “I think I may know,” the Dragon said, pointing to the top of the huge central platform.

  There, out in the open for all to see, was a large ring of stone that stood on its edge like a circular portal. Khalid looked at the Dragon, and the two of them made their way around the pit to climb the temple’s stairs.

  The stairs were large, and difficult to ascend, and Khalid often found himself stumbling as he attempted to climb. Once at the top, the two studied the ring carefully. It was rough-hewn, but perfectly round with a completely smooth inner circumference. On either edge were tall platforms—altars, perhaps—imprinted with what appeared to be a hand-shaped depression. The hands that would be placed here were not human hands, however. They were larger, and featured six fingers and a thumb.

  “Interesting,” Khalid remarked. “Six fingered giants.”

  “I am at a loss,” the Dragon said. “I thought I knew everything about the world. I feel as if I am just a child.”

  Khalid ran his fingers over the surface of the stone. It was moist, and rough; pockmarked with millennia of water erosion.

  “See how the stone is worn away; pitted?” he said.

  “Yes,” the Dragon replied. “And the stalagmites and stalactites are fused with the buildings. This city has been here for a very long time.”

  Khalid turned and leaned the left altar, glancing back at the cavern. His eyes slowly lit up as he realized that the massive pillar they had passed to get to the pit of bones was carved on this side.

  “Look,” he said, directing the Dragon’s gaze.

  The Dragon squinted in the faint light to see the pillar’s shape. Frustrated, he raised his hand, summoning a blinding light that fluttered to the cavern roof, illuminating the vast area almost a brightly as the sun.

  They both gasped when the pillar’s shape became clea
r.

  It was carved into the likeness of a formidable giant. It was man-shaped, with massive arms and shoulders, but with a strange head that looked almost dragon-like, or perhaps like some ghastly ram. Its six-fingered fist grasped gigantic hammers that were in a rested position at its sides. Its feet were clothed in boots with toes in the shape of talons.

  Khalid looked more closely at the head, going to the edge of the platform to get a better view. It was a helmet in the shape of a ram’s skull. The figure’s face was cloaked in shadow but appeared somewhat human, though with deep, widely spaced eyes and a flat, wide nose. It was lipless, but two fangs jutted from its lower jaw.

  “Who or what is this?” Khalid asked.

  The Dragon shook his head. “As I said, I am at a loss. The Great Mother has not revealed everything to me.”

  “Dagda,” Khalid said as realization slowly crept across his face. “Could this be Theia’s Firstborn?”

  The Dragon looked at him, his eyes conveying a sense of agreement. “It could very well be, Khalid,” he said. “And these creatures are his children, perhaps. If so, I wonder what happened to them.”

  Khalid was silent, still in awe at the size of the statue, and the appearance of the being it depicted. In his heart, it seemed that this was a being of pure evil; one that sought to destroy all sentient children of Gaia. As he looked at the Dragon, it was apparent that he had the same thoughts. But how could the Dragon not have known of this being, or his children? Surely his divine senses would be alerted by their presence, especially if they went to the surface to abduct life forms there.

  Perhaps his lack of awareness was due to the location of the gate’s destination. If it led to the land of another Firstborn, Imbra perhaps, then it would make sense that the Dragon would be unaware of them.

  “Khalid,” the Dragon whispered. “Something is watching us.”

  Khalid felt it too, but had not been fully aware of it until now. There was indeed something nearby.

  “Let us leave this place,” Khalid said. “I feel as if the statue itself is watching us.”

  The Dragon nodded, willing his armor to slowly form over his body. Khalid did the same.

  The two of them descended the stairs, keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding area. They watched the gaps between the buildings carefully, looking for any movement in the shadows. Khalid began to feel uneasy as they ventured deeper.

  “I keep feeling like we’re being watched,” he whispered. “But I can’t see or hear anything.”

  “Keep calm, Khalid,” the Dragon replied. “Something is definitely here. But I think whatever is watching us is more curious than anything else. But, I could be wrong.”

  “I feel the curious nature,” Khalid said. “But also something… hateful and malevolent.”

  The Dragon stopped, turning to gaze at the immense statue again.

  “Two entities, then,” he said. “Whoever this statue is, and a greater spirit; the Mother spirit.”

  Khalid nodded. “Let us proceed, then. If we reach Theia, she may be able to offer her protection.”

  “I believe if she was able to offer some sort of control over this malevolent spirit, then the creatures who built this temple would never have been created.”

  Khalid swallowed and sighed. “That is not a very comforting thought.”

  “Nevertheless,” the Dragon said. “We are nearing our destination. Once we reach the end of this cavern, the inner chamber should be easily accessible. I can feel the Theia’s presence growing stronger.”

  “Good,” Khalid replied. “I look forward to meeting her.”

  “As do I, Khalid. But be wary. She may not be in the best of moods. She has, after all, been trapped here for billions of years.”

  King Eamon raced to the end of Faerbane’s main pier, the Knights of the Dragon behind him. They passed through a gathering crowd of city guards and fishermen, who gazed in wonder at the fantastic ship that had arrived in the harbor.

  Eamon could see the tall masts of the ship, emblazoned with the flag of Pashir, and the personal crest of a man he knew all too well.

  Jadhav had returned.

  “Let the king pass!” heralds shouted.

  The crowd parted as Eamon and his knights approached. Though obviously determined to reach the end of the pier, the King greeted his subjects graciously, shaking hands with those who wished it and rustling the hair of the many children that gathered around him.

  Finally reaching the pier’s end, Eamon gazed out at the small skiff that pushed through the waves. Upon it, the familiar, dark form of Jadhav stood tall. His hair was loose and wild, and his beard unkempt; but the wide, toothy grin was still the same. Jadhav raised his hands in the air in a gesture of greeting, laughing out loud into the wind.

  Eamon raised his fist into the air, grinning and beaming with excitement.

  There two other men with Jadhav, in addition to the four men that rowed the skiff. They, too, stood in the wind. He recognized one as Vedic, Jadhav’s chief officer. The other man he did not recognize, though it was quite obvious he was a man of Khem.

  As the skiff neared the dock, Faerbane’s shore men tossed mooring lines to the occupants and pulled the boat closer. Jadhav stepped off first, immediately going to Eamon to snatch him up in rough greeting.

  “Ahhhhh!” Jadhav growled. “It is good to see you, my friend!”

  “Jadhav!” Eamon replied, roughly patting his friend on the back after struggling to breathe in the man’s tight grasp. “Where have you been?”

  Jadhav released him, nodding to each of the knights in turn. “Vedic and I were captured after the explosion near the coast,” he replied. “My ship was destroyed, and Sura was lost.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Eamon said. “She was good woman.”

  “And she probably still is,” Jadhav said. “Vedic tells me she was swept away by friendly creatures of the sea and taken west.”

  Eamon nodded, aware of the land masses to west. “Interesting,” he said. “I hope she finds a good life there.”

  Eamon greeted Vedic with a handshake, and then turned to the other man. He was dressed in elaborate yet functional clothing, with a beautiful, jeweled sword at his side. Though Eamon had not noticed before, the Serpent’s Tongue hummed slightly, much as it did when in the presence of the Sword of Sulemain.

  “Eamon,” Jadhav said. “This is my rescuer, Hamal, rightful heir to the throne of Khem.”

  Hamal bowed low, as was the custom of respect among his people, and offered his hand in greeting.

  “It is an honor to meet the Onyx Dragon,” Hamal said.

  Eamon took his hand, bowing in return.

  “The honor is mine, son of Imbra,” Eamon replied.

  “Eamon,” Jadhav said. “There is something you should know.”

  “Yes,” Hamal added. “There was an unknown ally during the liberation of the prison. He appeared to be a man of Eirenoch, and his weapons were those of the divine.”

  Eamon shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “But let us go to our meeting hall. I will have a fine feast prepared for us. For the whole city, in fact.”

  He turned to the gathered crowd, motioning for their silence.

  “In celebration of the return of my friend, Jadhav, I declare a feast be prepared!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “Pub owners, open your doors and let the ale and meat flow free. I will personally compensate all of you!”

  The crowd cheered again in anticipation of the city wide celebration. It would a time of good cheer for the citizens of Faerbane. Not so much for the city guards.

  “Come,” Eamon said. “To the castle.”

  Adder and Jhayla crossed paths with Aeli just north of Morduin. The Druid was in a troubled state, having searched frantically for any sign of Jodocus’ passing. She seemed relieved to see the two of them, and stopped to catch her breath when they emerged from the trees.

  “Have you seen Jodocus?” she asked as they approached.
>
  “Not directly,” Adder replied. “But he is in the company of a moorcat. He is safe.”

  “A moorcat?”

  “Yes,” Jhayla said. “It looks like they are on their way to Southwatch.”

  Aeli nodded, relieved. “Jodocus would seek out Traegus,” she agreed. “But I need to get to him, and Traegus as well.”

  “What has happened?” Adder wondered.

  “We encountered the banshee. Something strange happened during the battle. I was knocked unconscious, and then taken to a dark realm. When I returned, the banshee was destroyed, and Jodocus was gone.”

  Jhayla and Adder looked to one another, shocked. “Do you think Jodocus destroyed her?” Adder asked.

  Aeli nodded. “His power is growing,” she said. “That may be why he went to Traegus. I must get there, but I think you should continue north. Farouk has returned, and I am curious as to what he found, but I must find Jodocus first.”

  “If Farouk has found something,” Jhayla said. “He will likely seek Traegus as well.”

  “Then I will go to him,” Aeli said. “Thank you for your help.”

  The Rangers watched as Aeli took a few steps and faded from sight. Adder sighed.

  “I hate when they do that.”

  The rift shimmered as Farouk and Faeraon emerged from its depths. Upon appearing, Faeraon immediately fell to his knees, his body shocked at the influx of life energy that surrounded him. Farouk bent to help him back to his feet, steadying him as he swayed.

  “Are you alright, my friend?” he asked.

  Faeraon took several deep breaths, opening his eyes wide as he took in the greenery and blue sky. A smile slowly spread across his face as he regained his composure, and he looked at Farouk with a subtle tear in his eye.

  “It’s beautiful!” he exclaimed. “So green. So full of life. It has been so long since I looked upon such a sight.”

  “I understand,” Farouk said. “And I would love to show you many things here, but we must act quickly. I need to find out where Allora’s spirit lies. My friend Traegus will know.”

  “Very well,” Faeraon said. “I long to see her face again.”