He hadn’t realized how unable to defend himself he truely was until he came out here. And the horror was, that meant he would be unable to defend his child. Even if he did find him, how would he keep him safe long enough to get him home.
What ever it was down that staircase, if it offered him greater strength to do what a father was supposed to do, to protect his family, then he wanted to see it.
Rinacht pulled him back towards the stairs. "I think this is the answer to our problem. This is what we've been looking for."
Handers turned back to the other stair case across the room. There too was an offering of immense strength. The glowing weapons and armor seemed incredible and miraculous. But they came with a price. He was running around fighting other people’s battles with them. What ever strength and assistance he would get from that room up top, would he be able to use it rescue his son? Or would he be stuck doing someone else’s bidding? And maybe, if there was time, he’d be able to fit in his son rescue?
And then one of the last thing he saw was what looked like a mortal wound in his chest. How could he accept that? Who would be there for his son after that?
"This is how we get your son back!" Rinacht said.
“What about the other stairs?” Handers asked.
Rinacht followed Hander's glance. "I don't know. There was only one stair case in the myth."
Handers remembered what he saw happen to his body. The blackened skin. Hopefully it was figurative. Whatever it meant, if it was the price he’d have to pay for his son’s freedom and safety, he’d pay it. He took a deep breath then committed to the first step, careful not to touch the railing.
Rinacht followed him down.
-
The stairs curved down and opened into a dark circular room similar in shape to the one above. Light filtered down from slots cut from the ceiling in regular intervals.
As the room above, the walls were covered with an assortment of frescoes, diagrams, and writings. Stone pillars, inset from the walls, circled the room. The base of the pillars were carved into statues, as well, only in the place of the upright robed figures were various shapes and sizes of wild beasts. The beasts seemed to be based on the three races, wild Botann, Zo, and Petra.
The floor of the room stepped downward in stadium fashion, ending with a large basin that rested directly in the center. Streams of black liquid seeped in from cracks in the walls, ceiling and floor and cascaded down the steps into the basin.
The circle of floor beneath the basin, the lowest point in the room, was made of an oddly bright red colored wood. The streams of black liquid that dripped down the stone from all around the room trickled down channels that feed it into the basin. But where there weren’t channels to carry it over the floor it just dripped and collected into puddles on the wood. Little puffs of steam rose from the puddles with a subtle hiss.
The wood appeared to be heavily corroded, as though it were being eaten away slowly by the pools. Visible holes had already formed between slates, and the weight of the giant basin was causing the wooden floor to sag in the middle. It was in poor enough shape that Handers was hesitant to step on it. It appeared it was only a matter of time before it gave way entirely.
Rinacht circled around the basin, running his fingers around the lip. "This is exactly as it was described!"
An enormous marble throne occupied an entire section of the far wall. Handers stared at the shape and size of the throne. It was similar to the one he'd just seen in his last vision.
A detailed fresco covered the wall behind the throne. The fresco depicted a vicious battle with repeating figures holding black weapons who stood out against a back drop of death and carnage.
In the far right of the fresco, painted stone steps led up to a large figure sitting in the same repeating throne, dressed in a purple tunic with a purple crown on his head. The figure was twice the size of everyone else in the painting. He had no fur, no knots or jagged edges. He was smooth and beautiful. Perfect.
Like the statues above and the guards outside, he guessed this was what Rinacht was describing as a ‘Keeper’.
Filling the steps below the Keeper were an assortment of regular men and women, Zo, Petra and Botann, soldiers and civilians. They weren’t standing on the steps but were instead lying or kneeling, with their hands all held up towards him as though pleading with him. In his right hand, he held a dark purple scepter with what appeared to be the purple version of the Token affixed to the top.
A thick black storm cloud cast a shadow over the steps and throne.
Three people, one of each race, knelt at the top of the steps, each holding out their hands with a gift for the Crowned Keeper. The gift in each of the three's hands glowed red. In the Zo's hands was a small Red Animal, in the Botann man's a small Red Plant, in the Petra's a small Red Stone.
The Keeper held in his left hand a long red knife raised to receive the Red gifts.
"Rinacht, know anything about this guy?" He pointed to the Fresco depicting the man on the throne.
Rinacht came up behind him. "These three I recognize." He pointed to the three warriors welding the black weapons. "The three heroes. The three paths to power and greatness… if you read into the analogy.
"But the rest of this. I don't know." He studied the image, moving with it up to the high steps. "Looks like some kind of King... But, he's not in any of the stories." He ran his fingers over the wall where the three people held out the glowing Reds in offering to the King. "I wonder what they're doing here."
"Maybe we shouldn't be down here, you know. Doesn't look like he's a very pleasant fellow."
"Come take a look at this." Rinacht motioned him back over to the basin. "There's something down there." He pointed down into liquid. "Something shiny, metallic."
Handers watched as Rinacht leaned in for a closer look. He noticed something around the outside edge the basin and stooped to inspect it, rubbing away the dust. "Rinacht look. There's something written here." He followed the writing around the circle of the basin, brushing at the dust as he went.
"Behold, the weapons of the crown!" Rinacht read as he walked around a portion of the bowl. "Appears to be written in several languages."
"The weapons of the crown?" Handers asked.
Rinacht leaned over the edge again. "Yes, yes. That's right. The Royal Weapons." A strange expression covered his face. He put his hand toward the surface of the liquid, intent on reaching down to grab something. His finger touched, then, with a hiss of steam and a puff of smoke he jerked it away. "Oww!" He cried out and leaned back.
Handers laughed. "Suppose you really have to want them, right?"
Rinacht glanced over at him with a look of contempt, still holding his finger in pain. "There's supposed to be a key. Something that allows access. In the stories it was always a small white statue of a plant or animal." He indicated the size with his hands. "You haven't seen anything like that have you?"
Handers glared at him. "Both staircases had a little tree carving at the base of the handrail."
"Yes, yes. I noticed that. What we're looking for is something just like that."
Handers leaned out over the liquid. "What kind of weapons?"
"You don't understand. Weapons of the Crown. Weapons of the Crown of the gods. This is one of the three paths of power and greatness. This is the answer to our problems! I know it!" Rinacht said.
Handers stared into the liquid.
Whack! Rinacht slapped the outside of the basin. "Come on Handers! What do you think its for?"
Handers jumped, surprised. He stepped back, a little bewildered.
"Keep it safe, I understand that." Rinacht continued. "Keep it a secret, of course! But only until the time comes to use it, then you use it! Otherwise, what's the point."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Handers growled.
"Fine!" Rinacht muddled over to the first stone step that circled the room and slumped down with a frustrated grunt.
Handers was confus
ed. How did Rinacht know he had the token? He'd been so careful about keeping it out of sight. He hadn't even shown it to his son.
"What does it cost to try?" Rinacht added. "I'll tell you what it'll cost us both not to try." He paused. "Your Son."
Handers scowled. He knew Rinacht was right. However uncomfortable it made him, having his secret exposed, it was unavoidable. He'd have to deal with him later. Right now he need to move forward to where ever this path might be leading them. He knew Rinacht was right about the basin as well. There was something powerful in the bottom. He could feel it.
With a small uncomfortable sigh, he reached a hand beneath his shirt and pulled out the small velvet pouch containing the Token. As he unfolded the velvet, bright streams of light flooded the room.
Rinacht jumped to his feet and approached quickly, shielding his eyes with his hand. "It's beautiful!" He mumbled as he watched Handers hold it up over the basin. "Can I see it?" He asked.
Hander ignored him. The bright light cut through to the bottom of the liquid, exposing the full contents of the basin. A kingly breastplate encrusted in jewels, numerous swords, scimitars, and shields all rested on a bed of jewels and coins. In the very center, pushing out from the coins was a majestic purple Crown, the same that he'd seen on the wall as well as when he touched the pedestal. Below the crown was the scepter he'd seen as well. "Incredible," he whispered to himself.
Here was the Crown, Scepter and the Throne. What worried him now was the missing piece. Where was the creature that these belonged to? The thing he saw sitting in its throne wearing this crown? Was he long since dead? Or just gone for a walk?
He lowered the Token closer to the surface to shine more light on the Crown. With the Token's approach, the black liquid repealed as if a silent wind were blowing it back.
"Rinacht, look at this!" He pushed the Token lower. The liquid reacted in equal proportion, pushing it back with greater force.
"The Royal Crown!" Rinacht almost shouted. "I knew it!"
"You said you didn't know what any of that was," Handers argued.
"The Crown I knew. Yes."
Handers stared at it. From what he could see through the liquid, it was quite impressive. Much more so in person. As he stood there hovering over the basin, studying the exquisite craftsmanship, the intricate lines of jewels encircled with golden flowers, he remembered what he had seen moments before in the other room. He remembered that the first thing he saw was himself taking this Crown off the head of what he was guessing was a Keeper. After that he had super human strength. This crown, he guessed, was the source of that. It had to have been, or why else would he have seen himself taking it. He had to get the Crown!
He leaned in and pushed the Token down towards the crown. The liquid displaced further, creating a deep depression near the center and an overflow against the brim of the basin. As the the liquid lapped up and over the side, it dripped on the wood floor below, giving off a hissing plum of smoke.
"What're you doing? You can't take the Crown!" Rinacht yelled. Handers ignored him.
Rinacht paced back and forth behind Handers peaking over one shoulder then the other. He rubbed his forehead as Handers inched closer to the Crown.
"We're here for the weapons, not the Crown!"
After a moment, he turned away and fidgeted with his hand. His eyes darted back and forth, indecisively. He chewed on his hand. Finally, he turned back to Handers with a confident and immobile gaze fixed firmly on the back of Hander's head.
He lifted his massive stone like forearm high above his head and bought in down with a loud crack onto Handers' neck.
Handers dropped backwards, his arm swinging out of the basin. The Token dropped to the floor. Rinacht stepped over Handers and picked it up using the black velvet lying next to it.
Handers' head throbbed. He rolled over onto his back. Rinacht stood over him holding the Token. The realization sank in. Rinacht had just hit him. "What are you doing?" He demanded.
"I'm sorry. I can't. I can't let you take it!" Rinacht answered.
With that, Handers lunged full force at his house servant, knocking him off his feet. He grabbed violently for the Token, just managing to wrap his fingers around it. Rinacht rolled hard onto Handers arm trying to break his grip.
"The Crown is the way to Emret!" Handers yelled.
"No. You don't understand. It won't help you!" Rinacht argued.
Handers leveraged his weight and launched Rinacht into a nearby pillar.
The Token clattered to the floor between them. Handers looked down at his hand. He still held a piece of the Token. Rinacht sat up, still holding a piece as well. The Token had broken into three.
"What've you done!" Rinacht yelled. He stared at the broken piece of the Token in his hand.
Handers got up and darted towards the black pool. He pushed the Token fragment down into the basin. Liquid splashed up on the sides, as it was pushed away in the middle. He reached in for the crown with the other hand. Turbulent waves of liquid splashed up over the edge of the basin sending up plums of smoke as it burned the wood floor below. Handers leaned his upper body over the brim, pushing his entire arm past the shoulder into the basin.
With a jarring whip, Rinacht grabbed him from behind and wrenched him back with all of his strength. Handers twisted and slid to the side, tumbling to the floor.
Rinacht shoved his own arm into the basin, one hand holding his piece of the Token, the other reaching for the closest weapon to the surface.
More black liquid gushed out and splashed onto the wood, causing two of the floor boards to crack and split. The basin groaned as it shifted position from the weakening floor. Choking smoke filled the air.
Rinacht curled his fingers around a short sword. Immediately, with his touch, the piece of Token in his other hand turned black. The liquid it had been pushing away swept back in a crashing wave, submerging his hand and forearm in the black acid.
He jerked his hand out in surprise and dropped the sword which had turned black with the token. "Aaaah!" He cried out in pain and stumbled backward cradling his injured arm. He held up the blackened Token, still clutched in his good hand, trying to comprehend what had happened. He turned his gaze back to the basin full of irretrievable treasures.
"I'm sorry." He pleaded. "I never should've agreed to this." His face twitched with pain.
"Agreed to what?" Handers demanded in a low growl.
"You're not the only fool looking for this place. And you're not the only one of us with problems. You think I live in your country doing your cleaning because I choose too?" He backed towards the stairs. "I'm done trying to help. Good luck with the boy. Just remember, you were warned."
He turned and paddled up the stairs.
Handers watched with bitterness as his old friend left. Who did he sell him out to? He wondered. And why? He knew he wasn't happy where he was. But he had always tried to help him the best he could. It wasn't his fault Rinacht couldn't go back home. And how could he abandon Emret like that?
He turned back to the basin and leaned his body out again over the edge, dangling the Token over the liquid. As he lowered it, the black acid pushed away. He could see the Crown more and more clearly the deeper he pushed the Token. Finally, the top of the crown peaked into the open air. He reached in with his other hand then stopped, remembering what happened to Rinacht.
There didn't seem to be any other way. Hopefully the crown would react differently than the sword Rinacht had grabbed. If it didn't and the acid did come crashing back he'd just have to be quick.
He wrapped his fingers tightly around a band of gold that formed the top of the crown and pulled.
Without a moment's forgiveness the Token fragment turned black. Acid crashed down over his arm and shoulder. "Aaaaah!" He cried. The crown hadn't budged, but he couldn't let go, not yet, not when he was this close. He pulled harder. The acid burned fiercely. He could feel his skin dissolving. He repositioned his legs and tore at the crown with everything he had.
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Steam rose from the acid as it ate away his flesh. "Aaaaah!" The pain was overwhelming. He couldn't hold on much longer. His fingers slipped a little. "No!"
With a rumbling boom and splash, the Crown finally gave. Handers slammed backwards to the ground from the sudden release.
He immediately inspected his arm. The sleeve of his shirt was gone. The fur was entirely burned away as well as most of the outer skin. Long streams of blood and acid dripped down what was left of his red flesh.
His burnt hand still clutched his new prize firmly. Free of the basin, the Crown was no longer gold with purple felt trim. Instead, it seemed to be composed of the very acid from which he'd just removed it. His hand burned where he held it, but it was still solid enough to hold.
Then he noticed the basin. A flood of liquid poured out of decorated spouts all around the bottom of the basin, splashing onto the wood floor.
He pulled himself up onto the stone floor quickly to avoid the flood of acid. It appeared that there was some sort of drain below the Crown that fed the decorated spouts. Removing the Crown unplugged that drain.
The room started to shake. The floor boards groaned, then a loud crack shot out as several of them split. Then, in an eruption of splintering wood, a large section of the floor beneath the basin gave way, tipping the massive stone bowl down halfway into the floor.
Cradling his arm, Handers backed away further up the stadium steps.
The rest of the slatted wood floor snapped with a cloud of acid and debris, swallowing the basin into a black abyss below.
The room shook like a volcano about to explode. Then, from deep within the abyss something howled and moaned, growing louder, echoing off the stone around him. Louder. Then without warning, it exploded into an ear bursting screech, like a million voices screaming.
Red Leaves and the Living Token Page 15