noveltune Chapter 139: The Wight Problem
Chapter 139: The Wight Problem
Chapter 139: The Wight Problem
Castile used her nightmare spell on seven men, including Delmar, to start. They were the worst of the company, with sunken, dark eyes and the worst disposition. It was to be a twelve-hour sleep on the bunks for them. Trapped in some dream Castile imagined. Everyone nervously watched as Castile forced man after man into a deep sleep.
When Castile was finished, she was seated on her bunk bed alone, clearly drained from her efforts. I took the opportunity to talk with her and sat next to her. I asked, “What are they dreaming about?”
Castile looked around at the sleeping men, “They are building houses. The spell required a task and environment on casting, I put them on a grassy plain, and they are cutting and stacking sod to build a house. It was what I remembered of where I grew up. No monsters. Just endless therapeutic labor with a loving family encouraging them.”
I nodded, thinking that was not too bad of a nightmare. I certainly had much worse. “So, will you be joining the exploration team now?”
Castile had a small knife out and was cleaning under her filthy fingernails. “Yes. I will be going out.” She knew why I was here. Castile fingered the amulet around her neck absently but did not offer it to me.
When she did not offer it back to me, I asked, “Can I have that back?”
I didn’t think she heard me, so I was about to ask again. “I would like to keep using it.” She said softly, my stomach turned over, and a cold chill spread through my body. She quickly added, “I think we can run two exploration teams. One will be led by me, and the other will be led by you. While you are out, I desire to use your amulet. When you return, wake me, and you can have it.”
That sounded completely reasonable. As my mage commander, she probably could have just kept it even though she recognized it as my property. “I think that is acceptable. Are you going to learn another spell?”Thê source of this content n/o/v/(el)bi((n))
Castile held the amulet again, studying it longingly, not answering for a time. “For me, a single day studying in the amulet is like a week. I could learn every spell I ever tried to study and failed. You do not realize what a treasure it truly is.” Her tone was slightly accusatory and had some jealousy in it.
Realizing she may have crossed a line, she added, “It is yours, Eryk. Perhaps I have become a little addicted to it.” She removed the dreamscape amulet and handed it to me. “Perhaps a few days apart from it would do me good.” She added unconvincingly.
Castile stood and walked away to talk with Konstantin. After an hour’s discussion, she announced to everyone not sleeping, “Adrian, Brutus, Blaze, and Mateo. You are with me for a specter harvest.” Castile snatched the kettle and marched for the door while they scrambled to follow.
I moved over to sit with Maveith, who was sorting wine bottles with Konstantin at a table. “Surprised she didn’t take you,” I noted, and Konstantin looked up.
“We just returned an hour ago, Eryk. Castile decided the second team would be you, Flavius, Delmar, Firth, Benito, and me,” Konstantin revealed with a faux smile.
“Damn, she got to pick all the cool kids,” I said gruffly.
Maveith didn’t understand, “I think everyone is pretty cold, Eryk. But it is warmer under the city than in the tower.”
Konstantin cackled a laugh, “I think Eryk is saying that he wishes he got to choose his own team. I am actually quite hurt you don’t want me on your team.”
I don’t know why I said it, I think it was probably because it had been a few days since I got some real sleep, and my mind felt frayed and exhausted. “Konstantin, you are reckless. You chase every damn specter you see. Regardless of whether it is safe for the rest of us or not. Of course, I don’t want to explore with you the tunnels with you!” I had yelled that a little too loud, and a number of men overheard. All the attention in the wine vault was on us now.
Konstantin placed two bottles he had been holding on the table and looked me in the eyes, and I met his stare defiantly. Our eyes studied each other. He said softly, “You are right, Eryk. I have been reckless.” I exhaled in some relief. “We are running out of time, though. He reflectively touched the pommel of his runic weapon.”
“So, it is not your weapon driving you?” I accused him, getting bolder.
Konstantin’s hand caressed the hilt while studying my face. He admitted, “It does reward me with a euphoric rush when I cut down a specter. But it is not controlling me.” My mouth opened to reply, and then I shut it. Konstantin was an addict and didn’t even realize it.
“Perhaps you should loan your runic weapon to another, Konstantin.” My suggestion was met with harsh eyes. I remembered that Konstantin had also recklessly pursued the summoner to reclaim this blade. I was not sure how he didn’t see that he was beholden to the weapon.
I decided not to press further. I walked over to Scholar Favian to see about continuing my education in the Elven tongue. After an hour, I decided to get some rest; my mind had its fill of new vocabulary and listening to the Scholar’s voice. I went to an open bunk and lay down, leaving Konstantin and Maveith. I had the amulet, and I wanted to get some actual rest. I entered the dreamscape and found the safe entry room filled with living room furniture and an entire kitchen. The bookshelf I had left Castile was now full of books as well. I mumbled to myself, “Castile, you have been a busy woman and made yourself at home.”
I flipped through each one of the books she left behind on the bookshelf and made a copy of the complete set. I then walked down to the scorpion room. Castile did not appear to have spent any time fighting the creatures of the dungeon. Either that or she reset them after she had killed them. After a quick inspection, it seemed that my secret room was undisturbed. I then set my copy of the books into my secret room and left, closing it behind me.
Everyone was tense as we turned around. We had only found seven spectators so far today. The first door had Scholar Favian inform the group, “It is a cobbler’s room.” Inside was a large workshop with three specters. The shoes had all since rotted away, and we quickly finished off the specters.
“Why do they need a shoe store under the city?” Benito asked after we finished clearing the room.
The Scholar answered, “They were prepared for a long siege by the Legion. They were prepared to live under the city for years. We must be under the merchant quarter. This city used to be home to some of the greatest artisans in the world. They would not stop doing their professions even if a war were raging around them.”
We continued opening doors but skipping doors that led up to the city. Every time, we were rewarded with one to four specters inside. It was as the Scholar had said, and these were the specters of the artisans. The spectral clothes they wore were fancy and fashionable. Scholar Favian suddenly got excited at the ninth door: “It is a weaponsmith! There must be a forge on the other side of this door.” Delmar looked at Konstantin, and they both looked like kids about to raid a candy store.
Konstantin repeated the same thing he had for each of the last few entries, “I will go first, Delmar will go left, Firth will go right, after me. Don’t get distracted; cut down the specters quickly so Eryk can use the kettle.”
Konstantin tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge. The moisture in this part of the undercity had rotted the door some. Delmar and Konstantin worked together, and they were able to pry it off the hinges with a lot of effort. Konstantin rushed and shouldered the door. The door spun, freed from its prison, and slammed into the ground inside the forge room, causing a thick cloud of dust made worse as the glowstones illuminated the particles. The thick cloud of dust caused zero visibility. Konstantin rushed into the room with Delmar and Firth.
“Does anyone see any specters?” Delmar said through coughing fits.
“I don’t see anything!” Benito replied from beside me.
A body was thrown out of the room and slammed into me, knocking me into the wall in the corridor. It was Firth who looked broken and choked out a warning, “Wight!”
“Where?!” Konstantin’s voice echoed in the dust cloud from inside the forge room. A figure rushed toward me from the dust, and I erected an air shield in front of me. The emaciated elf crashed into my air shield, just a foot from my face. It looked like a zombie elf, its gray skin stretched tight over its bones. Firth was trying to stand, but struggling.
Delmar screamed in obvious pain, “I have specters in the forge! I need help in here!”
Konstantin yelled, frustrated as I could see flashes of his sword through the dust cloud, “Where is the wight!”
My black blade stabbed forward into the stomach of the wight, but it just pressed forward, trapping my blade. It screamed a raspy, angry yell at me, “In the corridor!” I shouted. Benito attacked, and the wight punched him in the chest, tossing him sprawling back down the corridor.
An arrow suddenly protruded from the neck of the wight. The wight swiped at my air shield, shattering it without difficulty. His clawed hands then left deep gouges on my armor. Konstantin rushed out of the dust cloud and hacked into the neck of the wight; instead of sparks, the blade hissed and steamed as he connected. I couldn’t extract my black blade, so I drew the elven dagger and stabbed the wight in the eye.
It suddenly paused in its attack, looking confused. Konstantin hacked the other side of its neck, freeing its head from its body. The dust was clearing, but Delmar was still screaming for help. “Use the kettle, Eryk!” Konstantin yelled as he dashed back into the room to help Delmar. The dust was clearing but not fast enough.
I aimed the kettle and channeled aether into it. A thick purple smoke came from the corpse of the wight, and it felt almost like a brief tug-o-war as it resisted a final death. It finally succumbed to the bronze kettle, and a palpable relief escaped me. I turned my attention to Firth, who was moaning in pain, one arm clearly broken.
“I am fine! Help the others!” He pushed me away with his good arm. Flavius rushed into the room as the dust was clearing. I entered after him. The forge room was large, and its expanse briefly took me aback. Easily two hundred feet deep. Delmar was on the ground to the left. He was no longer screaming for help. Konstantin was swinging wildly at four specters around him, sparks flying with every swing of the blade.
“Eryk! Use the kettle! There were at least nine specters, maybe more if Delmar killed some.” Konstantin sounded frantic and worried. I used the kettle, and it eventually pulled eleven specters into it.
With the room now clear, we all stood over Delmar. His scraggly bearded face was pale white, and his eyes looked up and vacant. Damn it, he was definitely dead. Benito was to my right and asked that exact question, “Is he dead? Is he going to turn into a specter?”
Konstantin let out a long, disgruntled sigh. “Yes.”
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