A Soldier's Life

Chapter 141: The Shimmering Labyrinth

Chapter 141: The Shimmering Labyrinth

Castile stood next to Scholar Favian as he continued to clean the door. His robes, hands, and arms were quickly covered in dirt as he frenziedly cleared away the centuries of dust, searching for more script.

“Does this mean the dungeon is above ground?” Castile asked the filthy but excited Scholar.

Scholar Favian paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “The translation is something like, 'Guardians of Access to the Labyrinth.' The Elven King who ruled Caelora kept the Adventurer’s Guild from accessing the dungeon and maintained his own guards for the entrance. The entrance could be at the top of these stairs,” he said excitedly. He looked down the passage, “Or it could be close, just down there. We are in the right place at any rate, Mage Castile.”

Adrian looked skeptical. “We should not go up to the city unless we are sure. It could trigger a flood of specters to our position, and we would be quickly overrun.”

Castile looked out over the men in the corridor. It was clear we were on our last legs. She looked at me, expecting some wisdom, but I remained silent, with nothing to offer. Finally, Castile gave a command, “Let’s clear a room nearby and rest. Eryk, find a suitable room. After we rest, I will lead a team up the stairs to explore.”

Adrian was clearly not happy with the answer but nodded. It felt strange being part of the decision-making process. The mystique of leadership appeared to be mostly a guessing game.

We found a storeroom with rotted crates and set up camp. I was tasked with watching Lirkin cook and prepare the meager food allocation. After the meal, I sat with Maveith, who was fondling his new hammer in a less-than-flattering way. “You like playing with it?” I asked, preparing to lead into a joke.

Maveith nodded. “Killing is not its intended purpose, but it is still a runic weapon. It makes me feel strong and confident.”His voice echoed in the room. He was making a lead-in joke too easy, but I resisted.

“You are taking down twice as many specters as the next man in the company, even Konstantin,” I said, and he beamed at the praise. I left the joke about his fascination with playing with his hammer unspoken; I was not feeling it today, and Maveith would have probably taken a few minutes to puzzle it out anyway, ruining the delivery.

We rested against the wall and sipped on watered-down wine. Both our stomachs protested loudly at the inadequacy of the offering. Maveith spoke uncharacteristically softly after a time, “Eryk, I think I am going to go home and tell my father.” I knew Maveith was referring to the reason he ran away from Stone Mountain Island. He had seen his sister cut down by orc slavers and ran away in fear and shame at not trying to help.

I had been hoping Maveith would stick around for a while. He did grow on you after some time. “I think that is sensible, Maveith. He will be happy to see you are alive.” Maveith did not say anything else, and a few hours later, Castile took Konstantin, Adrian, Flavius, and Brutus up the stairs to search the building above.

It was only a few minutes before we could hear the echoes of fighting up above. Benito and I guarded the base of the stairs. The muffled sounds rang down to us, but we could not determine what was happening. It was almost an hour before Brutus descended the steps. He looked cold and exhausted. “One wight, but Castile restrained it with shadow chains. Also, some twenty specters so far. Specters keep coming from the city, but only one or two at a time. Benito is to head up and replace me for now. Eryk, you are to replace Flavius.”

I directed a few of the men to take our places guarding the stairway. With my glowstone out, I climbed the stairs with Benito. I counted forty-one steps to reach the landing, and each step brought colder and colder air. Entering the room beyond, I was momentarily confused as one of the windows was letting in light from the very top. It was a blindingly bright white light after so long underground, where the only light came from the soft glowstones that lit the rooms and halls. The rays of the sun felt almost foreign to my skin.

Konstantin was sitting on a stone table with Adrian. Castile was walking slowly around the room. A desiccated corpse in armor was sprawled across the floor, and other scattered skeletons dotted the room. I tore my eyes from the wight, and the room looked like an intact tavern trapped in time. The windows were also intact, but the deep snow encased the building. Flavius studied me for a moment before he headed down the stairs to get some rest with the company.

As I was figuring out the large open room, a specter walked through a wall near a window, and Konstantin slid off the table and hacked it down in a flurry of sparks. Castile did not use the kettle immediately as she circled the room,entranced. Seeing Castile thinking, Adrian asked, “What is it, Castile?”

“The stone walls have runic weaves in them. This entire building has been artificed like the library to preserve it,” she said while running her hands along the stone wall.

“To what purpose?” Konstantin asked while keeping watch over where the specter had dissipated. Castile paused her exploration and used the kettle on the remnants, collecting the purple smoke so Konstantin could sit down again.

Shadow chains raced from Castile’s fingers and encircled the first wight. Konstantin started to engage it, but I was more concerned with the translucent specters coming from the snow with it. Adrian cursed, “It is a fucking rush! We should retreat!”

Castile was fumbling with the kettle while trying to maintain her shadow chains. “No! Eryk!” Castile tossed the kettle in my direction to focus on restraining the wight for Konstantin. I nestled the kettle and channeled my aether to consume the wight Maveith had struck. The tug-o-war with its undead soul left a cold, unnatural feeling spreading through me. I used my black blade to hold off a specter with my free arm as I backpedaled.

A third wight tore out of the snow. Benito had engaged it, but the creature was immensely strong and in silvery plate mail. Benito was thrown back hard by the creature’s silvery broadsword striking his own. Benito crashed hard into a stone table, losing his weapon. “Eryk, kettle this one!” Konstantin yelled as he went to protect Benito. The first wight was beheaded, and I raced to use the kettle on it. It seemed to take forever as the rich purple smoke flowed slowly from the severed head and neck into the kettle.

Castile’s shadow chains encompassed the wight with the massive runic broadsword. They couldn’t contain it, though, as it crossed swords with Konstantin. Konstantin grunted as he tried to block a heavy overhead swing. The wight’s sword cut into his pauldron and drove him to his knees. Maveith was swinging wildly and grunted with effort at the stream of specters coming from the snow, trying to get them all before they entered the room.

Adrian targeted the specters that slipped past Maveith. It was complete chaos. Benito was moaning in pain, Konstantin was in serious trouble, and Castile was drawing more shadow chains to slow the wight. Should I continue with the kettle or help Konstantin? Maveith howled in pain as a specter got past his windmilling hammer.

I made a decision and raced to help Konstantin, leaving the kettle spinning on a table within easy reach of Castile. I rushed the creature in plate armor, swinging its nearly four-foot sword to behead Konstantin. I layered air shields in the path of the killing blow. The sword destroyed both air shields but slowed the blade enough for me to parry the large blade and pull Konstantin back.

The old scout did not look good, with blood oozing from his shoulder. I could tell from the wound that his clavicle was broken. I barked at him, trying to motivate him, “Konstantin, are you telling me it only took one swing to bring you down?”

Castile was layering her shadow chains, and the large wight was struggling but almost under control. Konstantin grunted something I couldn’t make out and tried to stand. My black blade was trying to get past the armored wight, but it was still foiling me. With Castile’s shadows weighing down the wight, it was a somewhat even contest. I was soon sweating in the frigid air and focused on my combat. I finally got the advantage by ducking a horizontal swing and placing air shields so the undead creature could not swing back. My blade darted out, striking into its throat.

The creature just grabbed my blade and extracted it. While it was focused on me, Adrian came from the side and hacked into its neck. This gave me some control over my own blade, and with Adrian’s help, we removed the creature’s head. I ran over, picking up the kettle once more, quick to use it on the creature. I gritted my teeth against the pain that was evident on my face as I overcame the creature’s resistance to being permanently ended. Castile nodded weakly in my direction, drained from using her chains to hinder the wight. The violent violet smoke seemed almost substantial as it flowed from the creature into the kettle.

Maveith was still holding back the tide of specters, and Adrian moved to help him. I stumbled for a second but also joined him once my task was complete, just hoping no more wights entered the tavern. Konstantin even stood with us, weakly wielding his runic blade. Benito was not able to stand, his arm clearly broken and his leg at an odd angle. Fortunately, the tide of specters slowed and eventually stopped. Castile must have used the kettle nearly a hundred times in less than thirty minutes. The bronze artifact was almost completely full from her efforts.

Benito was on the floor, wincing and trying to get his dislocated hip in a comfortable position. Konstantin was trying to remove his armor to check on his shoulder. Maveith was inhaling deep breaths and still guarding the shattered stone door. White and black blotches were all over his skin from where the wight and specters had struck him. I stood next to Adrian, and we were both steaming as our sweat vaporized in the freezing air.

Castile’s fingers were white with frostbite as she put the kettle of souls down once she was sure she had contained all the remaining specters. No one spoke for a long time as the realization that we had won slowly sank in. Maveith was the first to speak, “What does a dungeon entrance look like?”

Castile answered him, “It would appear as a black door with an oily appearance.”

Maveith nodded, “I think the dungeon is there, then.” We all rushed to see where he was pointing. The snow blocked the majority of the doorway, and it was still extremely deep, but about thirty feet away, the top of a stone archway was visible above the snow, and a black oily surface was just below the stone arch. We all stood there and studied the obvious dungeon entrance tantalizingly close. The sun was setting outside, and soon, it would be hidden by the dark. But we were all certain we had found the entrance to the Shimmering Labyrinth.

© Copyrighted 2024 by AlwaysRollsAOne

No Permission is given to translate, copy, or repost this original work of fiction. If you are reading this on a site that is not my Patreon, , or it has been stolen without my permission and violates DMCA. Remember, this work results from my creative effort and is protected by copyright law. Removal or altering of this notification is an acknowledgment you are aware you are in violation of DMCA.