by Edun, Terah
“I don’t believe in things being haunted.”
“Well, I don’t believe in Land Wights, and yet here am I?”
He shushed her when they reached the mountainside entrance and she punched him on the shoulder in irritation. The nerve of the brat, shushing me like that!
“Whatever orders I give you, from now until we leave this mountain, you must follow without question,” he said urgently. She hesitated. “Ciardis!” he said holding up his hand as she began to protest. “The mountain isn’t inhabited by a ghost, but rather an elemental trapped between the Aether Realm and the mortal realm. It manifests here, but it knows nothing of leniency or mercy. It knows the codes and the blood, that’s all.”
She gritted her teeth and said, “The codes and the blood?”
“My blood,” he said, “and the correct answers, which will allow passage to its grotto.”
When they reached the entrance to the mountain, he took off his pack and motioned for her to do the same. Armed with a small knife at her waist, she followed the Imperial Heir through the stone doorway and into the pitch darkness. Sebastian produced a third light orb from his pocket, gave it a shake, and set it floating above their heads along with the other orbs illuminating the way.
They followed a twisted path with walls that felt like they were closing in and stalactites that dripped constantly, filling the air with the echoes of water splashing into lightless pools. Otherwise there was silence, save for the scuff of their feet and the occasional whisper of the wind through the small branching tunnels. Before long, they came to an open hole in the ground, though Ciardis thought that calling it a “hole” was being generous. It was really just a crack with rounded edges. “Here we are,” Sebastian said cheerfully. “We’ll be going down this ladder.”
“Ladder?” Ciardis peered down into the darkness. “What ladder?”
“There are small notches chiseled into the stone wall,” he said.
Ciardis looked at him like he’d gone insane. “That hole is barely big enough for either of us to fit into!”
“Which is why we left the knapsacks behind,” he said patiently.
Ciardis sighed. “How far down does this go?”
“Only about fifteen feet, from what I remember.” At her scowl, he said defensively, “It’s been ten years since I’ve been here!”
Ciardis couldn’t argue with that. “What’s at the bottom?”
“A straight tunnel. We’re going left.”
“What’s to the right?”
“An invisible drop-off into a bottomless chasm.”
“Good to know.”
Sebastian turned his body so that it was parallel to the side of the wall were the ladder was. He laid down on the floor and eased his feet over the edge to look for the notches in the wall... Once he was sure he’d found them, he eased his way down the ladder a few feet and waved for Ciardis to follow when his head dipped below the ledge. “There will be a light orb trailing above me to light your path,” he said, “but whatever you do, don’t let go of the wall, okay?”
He continued his descent down into the hole and Ciardis quickly followed after. When she got to the bottom, he was standing there waiting. Turning left, he said, “Keep your hand on my shoulder at all times. The walls are spelled to induce hallucinations to uninvited guests.”
“Are you inviting me?”
He flashed her a sarcastic smile. “Yes, and the Land Wight should recognize my genuine desire for you to be here. If he doesn’t, you’ll probably be crushed alive.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” she grumbled.
“I wasn’t joking that time.”
She hastily placed a hand on his shoulder as they began to walk. Once beyond the sphere of light provided by the light orbs, they were encased in darkness, the light occasionally reflecting off the dampness of the tunnel walls. After a few minutes, Sebastian said in an oddly strained voice, “A portalway should soon appear – on our left side. We’ll walk past that to a smooth stone wall. Above the smooth wall will be the Algardis crest, with a rearing lion carved into the stone.”
Ciardis began looking to her left and then suddenly the portalway appeared like a mirage before her eyes. It glimmered in the wall in front of her, temptingly. The swirl of harnessed lightning and flickering color looked so inviting… She became entranced with the portalway, her escape from this tiny, claustrophobic tunnel.
Even with her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, Ciardis was beginning to have visions of dying in the depths of the mountain. I could go anywhere, she thought, taking a hesitant step forward. I’d better leave now. The walls could cave in at any moment. I’d be trapped! With that last thought, she dropped her hand from where it rested on Sebastian’s shoulder and took a step toward the portalway.
Turning with a cry, Sebastian latched on to her hand tightly. “Don’t listen to the portalway,” he said harshly. “Concentrate! We’re almost there. The portalway has desire spelled into it. It’s fixating on your worst fears and making you experience them as if they’re actually happening. If you step through that portal, I guarantee you that you’ll find yourself in a far worse darkness than you’re experiencing here.”
She nodded, truly frightened for the first time, and he dropped her hand. “We’re almost there,” he repeated.
Sebastian scanned the wall in front of him and said quietly, “There it is.” He pointed toward the Algardis crest, carved into surface of the wall with deep lines. He reached for the stone carving. He gripped it firmly, obviously hoping that it recognized him as one of the Imperial line. It did. The gray wall rolled aside. Leading Ciardis through, Sebastian retrieved all his light orbs but two, expanding both of those until each was the size of a cart wheel.
Her eyes wide, Ciardis saw that they were now inside a vast cavern with carved walls, a roof supported by pillars, and a bridge that arched above a deep pit full of water. The way forward was wide enough for them to walk side by side. They crossed the bridge and headed straight for an elaborate doorway carved into the stone wall on the far side. Sebastian turned away from the door and knelt by a small stone urn near the edge of the bridge. He lifted it up and put it aside.
Then, with his fingertip, he traced a glyph into the small block set into the floor beneath the space the urn had occupied.
The glyph glowed golden for a moment; and then, with a faint pop, the block rose up from the floor. Smiling now, Sebastian reached down and pulled the block from its snug niche in the floor. He reached into the hole under it and brought up lantern on a chain.
Ciardis said nothing but raised her eyebrows raised in speculation. Sebastian turned to her and asked sheepishly, “Um, do you have a match?”
“No.”
“Tinderbox, by chance?”
“Of course not.”
“Dreck. I forgot that I had to light the lantern,” he said.
Ciardis sighed, shaking her head. Noting a few small flints lying on the ground, she bent down and, wincing at the destruction of the fine garment, tore a strip off of her skirt. She lifted her hand, “Give the lantern to me Sebastian. Please?”
After he handed over the lantern, she set it on the floor next to her, picked up a stone, and began to strike it against the wall, trying to catch a spark in the fabric. Luckily it was still bone dry, despite the dampness of the cavern, and she got the third spark going. Blowing on the baby flame, she nursed it until it was large enough to do the job, then managed to ignite the lantern’s wick.
“Thanks,” he said, grinning with relief. “I knew I brought you along for a reason.”
As soon as the lantern was back in Sebastian’s hands, the fire roared up between the glass panels and a bright light beamed straight from the wick to a small window far up on the ledge. They watched in wonder as the light reflected from that window to another, then ano
ther and another. Each responding glass window was set high in the wall. Soon, the glowing structure of a bridge made entirely of lantern light arced across the chamber, suspended in the air with no anchors.
Following Sebastian, Ciardis walked up and over the fire bridge to a ledge on the far side of the dark water. A second doorway lay beyond that ledge. This one was made of wood and had metal latches, and was much less elaborate than the first. Turning to her, Sebastian asked, “May I borrow your knife?”
She flipped the blade out of her belt and handed it over. He cut a tiny slice into the palm of his hand and pressed his torn skin to the door. “The final door requires a blood sacrifice,” he explained.
They heard a lock click, and several bars slid back into the doorframe. Then it swung open. The room beyond was filled with light and five very large, very angry lions. Ciardis blanched and immediately began to back up.
“No,” whispered Sebastian urgently, “follow my lead. Always.”
Ciardis stopped backing up, but she stayed behind Sebastian. If anyone was going to get eaten, it was going to be him.
Raising his hand, Sebastian showed his bloody palm to each lion. Ciardis didn’t think that was such a good idea, but kept her mouth shut. To her astonishment, each of the five lion took a whiff, backed away, and lay down on its stomach.
Calmly, she and Sebastian walked through the seated pride and into the next chamber. She sighed in relief as soon as the lions were far behind them. “How long is this going to take?” she asked in a low voice.
“As long as it takes,” replied Sebastian.
She resisted the urge to whack him on the back of his head. He was, after all, the Imperial Heir.
Once again they were walking through a tunnel; this one wound about a bit more, however, and offered more room to maneuver. She wasn’t sure how much later in their journey it was when Sebastian stopped at a raised platform in the center of the corridor. It was unremarkable: a solid block of plain, square stone that rose up four or five feet from the ground. He hauled himself up onto the platform, then reached down to grip Ciardis’s wrist and help her scramble up the side.
Moving to the center of the platform, he waited. With a creak and a groan, the stone cube they were standing upon began to levitate. It moved straight upward, and Ciardis quickly looked up, expecting to see a stone ceiling ready to squash them. But the ceiling, which had been there only a few seconds before, had disappeared and been replaced by nothing but darkness. The ride was a bit jerky, and each of them wrapped their hands around the other’s waist for balance.
When the stone platform finished rising and clicked into place, they stood in a large, cavernous room with a smooth stone floor, rounded walls, and a quiet ambience. As they stepped off the platform, a multicolored light began to pulse in mid-air. It flickered between many forms: a tree, a bird in flight, a grassy knoll, a mountain stream. It never stayed in one form for very long. Most disconcertingly, it wept. Drops of water condensed on the rocks and fell down in eerie drips, thunderous rain wracked the grassy knoll, and thin rills poured down the trunk of the tree.
It was the Land Wight, and it was clearly in severe pain.
Horrified, but determined to do something, Ciardis walked up to the elemental and laid her hand on its side. Underneath he skin, the fur, the bark, the grass— a rhythmic thud sounded – like the heartbeat f a living thing, a creature that gasped and sobbed in sorrow.
She closed her eyes in empathy. “Don’t you feel it?” she whispered to Sebastian, her head resting on the shuddering and shifting skin, fur, bark, grass, leaves. He stood by her side, close to but not touching the Land Wight.
When it shuddered again, Ciardis reached for Sebastian’s hand automatically. Without even thinking, she drew him forward into its embrace. The Land Wight had stopped shifting for the moment; it was a full-grown maple tree now. Sap leaked from cracks in its bark like the tears of a weeping woman.
Ciardis extended her entire body to embrace the tree. Without saying a word, she urged Sebastian to do the same.
The Prince Imperial opened his arms wide and pushed his body into the bark.
From the moment he’d entered the room, he’d had no idea what to do. Oh, he’d felt the Wight’s pain on some level for years, but it had never been like this before. He’d supplied the codes without fail, providing the blood required, and, most of all, he’d followed protocol.
Hugging a powerful elemental wasn’t in protocol. But Ciardis, an untrained mage, had known instinctively what to do. He had no doubt now that they were meant to be here together—perhaps even to go through life together.
Sebastian bit back a cry as he dropped the mental barriers on his mind, opening his magic to the Land Wight. He needed to know what it felt, what it saw, to cause such intensity of emotion. As he threw the gates to his soul wide, the elemental’s images of the life and energy that powered Algardis came pouring in. It couldn’t talk—not in the form it was in now—but it could show them and help them experience what it felt.
They saw and felt the iciness of winter on the Northern border. More disconcertingly, they felt the thrum of many boots crossing the perilous lands. The boots marched in concert with many heartbeats. They were soldiers—foreigners—on its soil.
The Land Wight showed them how it fought the foreigners to the best of its ability. It conjured snowstorms, ice, and hail to make the soldiers’ march difficult. It made the land inhospitable to the foreign troops with the death of crops and a dearth of sunshine. But it was a taxing effort, one it was trying its best to maintain, but could not for much longer…not without help.
They experienced its fear—no, its frustration—at its near-helplessness. The absence of the Algardis blood fighting by its side was conspicuous in its mind.
The pain that was wracking it arose from the constant pressure of maintaining such an intense assault on the invading troops without its traditional partner.
Having learned all that he needed to, Sebastian hesitantly reached out to the Land Wight’s presence. Through its pain, he sent waves of comfort and reassurance to it. He indicated as best he could that he and Ciardis needed to step back for a moment, but that they were there to help, to put an end to its pain.
Mentally sighing with acceptance, it allowed them to withdraw from its visions, to pull back into their own minds and untangle their physical forms from its bark. Gratefully, Sebastian stepped back, pulling Ciardis back, as well. When he had caught his breath again, he said to her, “Do you know how dangerous that was?”
“It needed our help.”
“It needs more than just our help. Remember when I mentioned that each person within the Algardis court is connected to the land, or should be?”
She nodded. As he tiredly ran his fingers through his hair, he said, “Apparently those bonds used to be much stronger. They were even strong enough for the Land Wight or the Emperor to draw upon in times of peril.”
“Alright. So?”
“So what’s going on? Why isn’t my father helping the Land Wight guard against the hordes gathering in the North? Where’s the connection between the Court and the land?” Sebastian looked with sadness at the forlorn tree in the middle of the chamber. Softly, he said, “Why does it stand there with no aid?”
The tree shuddered. Twisting its branches, it snapped them in anger at Ciardis and Sebastian. “It wants us to come back,” she said softly.
Sebastian put a warning hand on her arm. “Stronger mages have died in the Land Wight’s embrace, Ciardis.”
“Well then, we’ll just have to make sure it knows we’re here to help.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered as he watched her approach the trembling tree once more. She treats it like a pet, but that tree is one of the greatest forces of nature this world has ever seen.
Shuddering, he step
ped forward again. They gripped the bark with their arms, their legs, and their bodies, and turned their faces into its embrace. “Here we are,” Ciardis cooed softly to the tree.
It began to send them images again, but this time, the images took the form of answers to their concerns. The first images that came were of Sebastian’s grandfather and his great-grandfather kneeling before the elemental in obeisance, asking for its guidance and its embrace. Then they saw the same men as infants, with proud Imperial parents hovering over them at their christenings. The Land Wight stood to one side of the crowd of courtiers, invisible but present. The only people who seemed to notice the unseen elemental were the children in their cradles, who tried to grasp its airy substance, and their fathers—the Emperors—who smiled in secret pride at the vision of the elemental that they and their children shared.
During the christenings, the Land Wight gave its blessings and benedictions to each child, welcoming them gently into its fold.
But conspicuously absent was the benediction of Sebastian’s father and then his father’s obeisance during his teenage years. Where is he? Sebastian asked the Land Wight. It answered with a void of darkness, a blank emptiness. It had never embraced the latest Algardis Emperor, never provided its benison, and that was when the Empire had begun to fold.
But why? asked Ciardis urgently.
The Land Wight answered to the best of its ability, showing them more images of the boy who was now a man, the prince who was now the emperor, the ruler who was not a mage. Sebastian shuddered in horror. The Land Wight is saying that my father has no magic, no bond, no power!
“How could this happen?” he whispered to himself as he withdrew. “The Imperial court would have known, should have known, if their emperor wasn’t a mage. He had to go through multiple initation ceremonies including the offering, the obeisance, and the soulbonds.”