Chapter 194: 194
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Then I start towards the door, my teeth gritted, my body tense, ready for whatever the world might throw at me...
The door ahead of me is bolted shut by silver, wound by weaving vines of iron and steel that work their way in and out of the doorframe like creepers snaking down a tree. I suppose if I so intended, I could rip apart those metal hinderances as if they were blades of grass between my fingers, but luckily when I glance back to the awaiting Soren, he seems to understand what I need.
With a nod of understanding, Soren snaps his fingers, causing the bolt holding the door closed to vanish and the vines of metal to slither back, so that the door slowly creaks to an open to reveal the abyss behind it. Inside is nothing but an intense darkness, swirling with visions of death and decay and the wet drip drip of blood that fills my senses with its intoxicating stench. I never did quite get used to it, even now.
Determined not to lose my nerve, I pace on towards the heaving darkness, shivering at the rush of cold that lifts up around me like a stormy tundra intent on nibbling my flesh down to the bone. But I shake off this cold, the fear of this darkness that causes my insides to liquify with a nervous fervour, and continue on forward.
I'm not scared. I remind myself, to which is true to some extent. I have gotten past fearing Azrael long ago- at least fearing what he would do to me. But I haven't quite put past the fear of what he would do to others, to my friends.
"Remember to take your vials of potion," I call back to them all, which earns me a round of agreeable murmurs. But those soon fade as I get closer to that swirling darkness, sucking in sound like a vacuum.
"Stay safe, Serena!" Delina calls after me as I approach the door, but the words barely pass through my head, their meaning lost to the nerves that gnaw at my mind. Nothing is safe in this place, not any more. With Azrael alive, no one will ever be safe.
Breathing in a deep breath, I give one final look back at this marble prison, at the red light that douses and ricochets off the wall in a kaleidoscope of ruby hues like the spill of red blood. For a second I almost laugh at the sheer impossibility of it. Who would have guessed that the final tier of the labyrinth was the Tyrant king himself? To anyone who tried to enter unjustly, this would become a prison, a casket of silver walls and a bolt that could never be unlocked by hands of your own. You would have to face justice at the hands of the very person who rules this place, who has spies wriggling through even the darkest parts of his palace, who knows everything about everyone, and more importantly, the best ways to kill you.
There is no greater weapon Soren could have put down here. It is only a shame that Azrael could bypass this lair, perhaps then we would have never stood to lie in this mess to begin with. Since Azrael knows the location of the flame, he can just shadow shift to it, no questions asked. He would have no need to busy himself with the frivolities of the other lairs.
But it's too late to dwell on those regrets now.
Buying for time, I look back to my friends, to Kal casting a spell under his breath, his lips moving in silent speech, hands revolving around themselves, and hope with a desperate hope they all make it out alive. There is a resounding clink as empty vials of potions are strewn on the floor, discarded with the half hearted hope that once all this is over, we will never need them again.
The next second I look back, they are all gone: disappearing against the red and scarlet hues of the light, their existence completely wiped from cognition, like rain washing away paint on a stone. There is no trace of them, no sound, nor shadow that I can see of, only the empty room and the vials of long discarded bottles dripping potions onto the floor.
At least it did work.
"Go Serena," whispers a voice close to my ear, tickling the airs on my neck with a soft plume of hot breath. "You are ready."
Sucking in a breath, I nod. Then I clench my fists as I step out into the dark, my body glowing with a faint luminescence that encompasses my form.
"Stay close," I whisper, hoping that wherever they are, they will hear me. "I know the way."
Desperately praying that they are following, at last I make my way out the door, into the darkened corridor that lays beyond. It is a familiar place, one I have seen many times before in a dream, or a vision- a dark stone passage, withered by age and the rotting of time.
The walls are laced with the growth of plants that have learned to leech off the dark: ivy's and weeds that can stand without the light, dark sprouting flowers creeping up the walls and the fresh drip drip of water that wets the walls with a sticky fluidity, enough to send the hairs on my back rising with disgust.
My mind flits back to the first part of the maze, the visions of blackness and bones, carcasses half deprived of meat rotting and wreathing with maggots, and the stench...
One might think with all the grotesque monsters I have seen down here I might be somewhat immune to the thought of them by now, that the knowledge I have destroyed practically an army of halfling vampires might actually put my mind to rest. But in truth it is quite the opposite. Shadows cast from the long downturned roots, between the ridges of the caves and every turn. At each juncture my mind protests its fear, screaming internally at what might lurk in the darkness. Realistically, I know there is nothing there. There is no monster in the darkness. For if there was I would surely hear it, feel its presence in the darkness and ready myself for a fight, ready to obliterate it clean off the surface of this earth. There is no monster, no ghoul or ghost or vampire waiting to strike into my very heart with gnarled claws and gnashing teeth. Only the dripping of water, and the looming presence of Azrael.
A gorge rises in my throat, half out of fear, and half out of disgust. At least here there are no monsters here, is what I tell myself. Well, my mind whispers. There is one.
I stop thinking about things after that.
There are several passages to this cavernous array of branching corridors, and it is safe to say that any ordinary person might have gotten lost, or perished before they could so much as make it halfway. But I know where I am going, I have walked this stretch many times before in my mind. Ducking under stalagmites and inching out of the way of root growth through the walls, I continue to pace down the corridors, a flame in my hand, casting dim and feeble shadows onto the walls around me. The withered flame does little to supplement the lack of light, but to be honest, it is more for my friends than myself- for I can now see perfectly within to this void of darkness, whether I like it or not.
Yet my mind screams in protest.
'Do not be afraid,'
Coos a voice inside my head, faint, but still there, caressing my mind with a lingering softness that lulls me into a falsified bravery. There is nothing down here that will hurt you
The warmth of that voice sinks into my skin, quelling the anxiety in me, if only for a moment. After that, the shadows don't seem so dark, the walls do not appear so cramped, even my mind quiets to a gentle buzz, the terror lingering, but pushed into a depth that cannot reach me.
Wearily, I smile to myself, remembering that perhaps I am not so alone after all.
Rounding a corner, I at last come across the very place I am looking for. The entrance is as non conspicuous as any other door, and there is nothing particularly unusual about it, only that it is rather large. Undoubtedly that would have made it much easier for Azrael to haul in and out the bodies at his will, but right now that is the least of my concerns.
The door to the room is ajar.
Just enough that an ethereal golden light can slip through, illuminating the dank corridors with a superficial glow. As I carefully plod forward, shadows shift in and out of the light, dispelling it in shimmering waves of icy cold all over the floor. As my hand lingers on the handle, working up the courage to go inside, all at once the door is pushed open, and I am flooded with light. A tall, pale figure silhouettes the doorway, white hair ruffled, crimson eyes gleaming with a maddened glee. His voice is enough to send shivers jolting down my spine.
"Come in, my pet.. I have been expecting you."
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Then I start towards the door, my teeth gritted, my body tense, ready for whatever the world might throw at me...
The door ahead of me is bolted shut by silver, wound by weaving vines of iron and steel that work their way in and out of the doorframe like creepers snaking down a tree. I suppose if I so intended, I could rip apart those metal hinderances as if they were blades of grass between my fingers, but luckily when I glance back to the awaiting Soren, he seems to understand what I need.
With a nod of understanding, Soren snaps his fingers, causing the bolt holding the door closed to vanish and the vines of metal to slither back, so that the door slowly creaks to an open to reveal the abyss behind it. Inside is nothing but an intense darkness, swirling with visions of death and decay and the wet drip drip of blood that fills my senses with its intoxicating stench. I never did quite get used to it, even now.
Determined not to lose my nerve, I pace on towards the heaving darkness, shivering at the rush of cold that lifts up around me like a stormy tundra intent on nibbling my flesh down to the bone. But I shake off this cold, the fear of this darkness that causes my insides to liquify with a nervous fervour, and continue on forward.
I'm not scared. I remind myself, to which is true to some extent. I have gotten past fearing Azrael long ago- at least fearing what he would do to me. But I haven't quite put past the fear of what he would do to others, to my friends.
"Remember to take your vials of potion," I call back to them all, which earns me a round of agreeable murmurs. But those soon fade as I get closer to that swirling darkness, sucking in sound like a vacuum.
"Stay safe, Serena!" Delina calls after me as I approach the door, but the words barely pass through my head, their meaning lost to the nerves that gnaw at my mind. Nothing is safe in this place, not any more. With Azrael alive, no one will ever be safe.
Breathing in a deep breath, I give one final look back at this marble prison, at the red light that douses and ricochets off the wall in a kaleidoscope of ruby hues like the spill of red blood. For a second I almost laugh at the sheer impossibility of it. Who would have guessed that the final tier of the labyrinth was the Tyrant king himself? To anyone who tried to enter unjustly, this would become a prison, a casket of silver walls and a bolt that could never be unlocked by hands of your own. You would have to face justice at the hands of the very person who rules this place, who has spies wriggling through even the darkest parts of his palace, who knows everything about everyone, and more importantly, the best ways to kill you.
There is no greater weapon Soren could have put down here. It is only a shame that Azrael could bypass this lair, perhaps then we would have never stood to lie in this mess to begin with. Since Azrael knows the location of the flame, he can just shadow shift to it, no questions asked. He would have no need to busy himself with the frivolities of the other lairs.
But it's too late to dwell on those regrets now.
Buying for time, I look back to my friends, to Kal casting a spell under his breath, his lips moving in silent speech, hands revolving around themselves, and hope with a desperate hope they all make it out alive. There is a resounding clink as empty vials of potions are strewn on the floor, discarded with the half hearted hope that once all this is over, we will never need them again.
The next second I look back, they are all gone: disappearing against the red and scarlet hues of the light, their existence completely wiped from cognition, like rain washing away paint on a stone. There is no trace of them, no sound, nor shadow that I can see of, only the empty room and the vials of long discarded bottles dripping potions onto the floor.
At least it did work.
"Go Serena," whispers a voice close to my ear, tickling the airs on my neck with a soft plume of hot breath. "You are ready."
Sucking in a breath, I nod. Then I clench my fists as I step out into the dark, my body glowing with a faint luminescence that encompasses my form.
"Stay close," I whisper, hoping that wherever they are, they will hear me. "I know the way."
Desperately praying that they are following, at last I make my way out the door, into the darkened corridor that lays beyond. It is a familiar place, one I have seen many times before in a dream, or a vision- a dark stone passage, withered by age and the rotting of time.
The walls are laced with the growth of plants that have learned to leech off the dark: ivy's and weeds that can stand without the light, dark sprouting flowers creeping up the walls and the fresh drip drip of water that wets the walls with a sticky fluidity, enough to send the hairs on my back rising with disgust.
My mind flits back to the first part of the maze, the visions of blackness and bones, carcasses half deprived of meat rotting and wreathing with maggots, and the stench...
One might think with all the grotesque monsters I have seen down here I might be somewhat immune to the thought of them by now, that the knowledge I have destroyed practically an army of halfling vampires might actually put my mind to rest. But in truth it is quite the opposite. Shadows cast from the long downturned roots, between the ridges of the caves and every turn. At each juncture my mind protests its fear, screaming internally at what might lurk in the darkness. Realistically, I know there is nothing there. There is no monster in the darkness. For if there was I would surely hear it, feel its presence in the darkness and ready myself for a fight, ready to obliterate it clean off the surface of this earth. There is no monster, no ghoul or ghost or vampire waiting to strike into my very heart with gnarled claws and gnashing teeth. Only the dripping of water, and the looming presence of Azrael.
A gorge rises in my throat, half out of fear, and half out of disgust. At least here there are no monsters here, is what I tell myself. Well, my mind whispers. There is one.
I stop thinking about things after that.
There are several passages to this cavernous array of branching corridors, and it is safe to say that any ordinary person might have gotten lost, or perished before they could so much as make it halfway. But I know where I am going, I have walked this stretch many times before in my mind. Ducking under stalagmites and inching out of the way of root growth through the walls, I continue to pace down the corridors, a flame in my hand, casting dim and feeble shadows onto the walls around me. The withered flame does little to supplement the lack of light, but to be honest, it is more for my friends than myself- for I can now see perfectly within to this void of darkness, whether I like it or not.
Yet my mind screams in protest.
'Do not be afraid,'
Coos a voice inside my head, faint, but still there, caressing my mind with a lingering softness that lulls me into a falsified bravery. There is nothing down here that will hurt you
The warmth of that voice sinks into my skin, quelling the anxiety in me, if only for a moment. After that, the shadows don't seem so dark, the walls do not appear so cramped, even my mind quiets to a gentle buzz, the terror lingering, but pushed into a depth that cannot reach me.
Wearily, I smile to myself, remembering that perhaps I am not so alone after all.
Rounding a corner, I at last come across the very place I am looking for. The entrance is as non conspicuous as any other door, and there is nothing particularly unusual about it, only that it is rather large. Undoubtedly that would have made it much easier for Azrael to haul in and out the bodies at his will, but right now that is the least of my concerns.
The door to the room is ajar.
Just enough that an ethereal golden light can slip through, illuminating the dank corridors with a superficial glow. As I carefully plod forward, shadows shift in and out of the light, dispelling it in shimmering waves of icy cold all over the floor. As my hand lingers on the handle, working up the courage to go inside, all at once the door is pushed open, and I am flooded with light. A tall, pale figure silhouettes the doorway, white hair ruffled, crimson eyes gleaming with a maddened glee. His voice is enough to send shivers jolting down my spine.
"Come in, my pet.. I have been expecting you."
Then I start towards the door, my teeth gritted, my body tense, ready for whatever the world might throw at me...The door ahead of me is bolted shut by silver, wound by weaving vines of iron and steel that work their way in and out of the doorframe like creepers snaking down a tree. I suppose if I so intended, I could rip apart those metal hinderances as if they were blades of grass between my fingers, but luckily when I glance back to the awaiting Soren, he seems to understand what I need.With a nod of understanding, Soren snaps his fingers, causing the bolt holding the door closed to vanish and the vines of metal to slither back, so that the door slowly creaks to an open to reveal the abyss behind it. Inside is nothing but an intense darkness, swirling with visions of death and decay and the wet drip drip of blood that fills my senses with its intoxicating stench. I never did quite get used to it, even now.Determined not to lose my nerve, I pace on towards the heaving darkness, shivering at the rush of cold that lifts up around me like a stormy tundra intent on nibbling my flesh down to the bone. But I shake off this cold, the fear of this darkness that causes my insides to liquify with a nervous fervour, and continue on forward.I'm not scared. I remind myself, to which is true to some extent. I have gotten past fearing Azrael long ago- at least fearing what he would do to me. But I haven't quite put past the fear of what he would do to others, to my friends."Remember to take your vials of potion," I call back to them all, which earns me a round of agreeable murmurs. But those soon fade as I get closer to that swirling darkness, sucking in sound like a vacuum. "Stay safe, Serena!" Delina calls after me as I approach the door, but the words barely pass through my head, their meaning lost to the nerves that gnaw at my mind. Nothing is safe in this place, not any more. With Azrael alive, no one will ever be safe.Breathing in a deep breath, I give one final look back at this marble prison, at the red light that douses and ricochets off the wall in a kaleidoscope of ruby hues like the spill of red blood. For a second I almost laugh at the sheer impossibility of it. Who would have guessed that the final tier of the labyrinth was the Tyrant king himself? To anyone who tried to enter unjustly, this would become a prison, a casket of silver walls and a bolt that could never be unlocked by hands of your own. You would have to face justice at the hands of the very person who rules this place, who has spies wriggling through even the darkest parts of his palace, who knows everything about everyone, and more importantly, the best ways to kill you. There is no greater weapon Soren could have put down here. It is only a shame that Azrael could bypass this lair, perhaps then we would have never stood to lie in this mess to begin with. Since Azrael knows the location of the flame, he can just shadow shift to it, no questions asked. He would have no need to busy himself with the frivolities of the other lairs.But it's too late to dwell on those regrets now.Buying for time, I look back to my friends, to Kal casting a spell under his breath, his lips moving in silent speech, hands revolving around themselves, and hope with a desperate hope they all make it out alive. There is a resounding clink as empty vials of potions are strewn on the floor, discarded with the half hearted hope that once all this is over, we will never need them again.The next second I look back, they are all gone: disappearing against the red and scarlet hues of the light, their existence completely wiped from cognition, like rain washing away paint on a stone. There is no trace of them, no sound, nor shadow that I can see of, only the empty room and the vials of long discarded bottles dripping potions onto the floor.At least it did work."Go Serena," whispers a voice close to my ear, tickling the airs on my neck with a soft plume of hot breath. "You are ready."Sucking in a breath, I nod. Then I clench my fists as I step out into the dark, my body glowing with a faint luminescence that encompasses my form."Stay close," I whisper, hoping that wherever they are, they will hear me. "I know the way."Desperately praying that they are following, at last I make my way out the door, into the darkened corridor that lays beyond. It is a familiar place, one I have seen many times before in a dream, or a vision- a dark stone passage, withered by age and the rotting of time.The walls are laced with the growth of plants that have learned to leech off the dark: ivy's and weeds that can stand without the light, dark sprouting flowers creeping up the walls and the fresh drip drip of water that wets the walls with a sticky fluidity, enough to send the hairs on my back rising with disgust.My mind flits back to the first part of the maze, the visions of blackness and bones, carcasses half deprived of meat rotting and wreathing with maggots, and the stench...One might think with all the grotesque monsters I have seen down here I might be somewhat immune to the thought of them by now, that the knowledge I have destroyed practically an army of halfling vampires might actually put my mind to rest. But in truth it is quite the opposite. Shadows cast from the long downturned roots, between the ridges of the caves and every turn. At each juncture my mind protests its fear, screaming internally at what might lurk in the darkness. Realistically, I know there is nothing there. There is no monster in the darkness. For if there was I would surely hear it, feel its presence in the darkness and ready myself for a fight, ready to obliterate it clean off the surface of this earth. There is no monster, no ghoul or ghost or vampire waiting to strike into my very heart with gnarled claws and gnashing teeth. Only the dripping of water, and the looming presence of Azrael.A gorge rises in my throat, half out of fear, and half out of disgust. At least here there are no monsters here, is what I tell myself. Well, my mind whispers. There is one. I stop thinking about things after that.There are several passages to this cavernous array of branching corridors, and it is safe to say that any ordinary person might have gotten lost, or perished before they could so much as make it halfway. But I know where I am going, I have walked this stretch many times before in my mind. Ducking under stalagmites and inching out of the way of root growth through the walls, I continue to pace down the corridors, a flame in my hand, casting dim and feeble shadows onto the walls around me. The withered flame does little to supplement the lack of light, but to be honest, it is more for my friends than myself- for I can now see perfectly within to this void of darkness, whether I like it or not.Yet my mind screams in protest.'Do not be afraid,'Coos a voice inside my head, faint, but still there, caressing my mind with a lingering softness that lulls me into a falsified bravery. There is nothing down here that will hurt youThe warmth of that voice sinks into my skin, quelling the anxiety in me, if only for a moment. After that, the shadows don't seem so dark, the walls do not appear so cramped, even my mind quiets to a gentle buzz, the terror lingering, but pushed into a depth that cannot reach me.Wearily, I smile to myself, remembering that perhaps I am not so alone after all.Rounding a corner, I at last come across the very place I am looking for. The entrance is as non conspicuous as any other door, and there is nothing particularly unusual about it, only that it is rather large. Undoubtedly that would have made it much easier for Azrael to haul in and out the bodies at his will, but right now that is the least of my concerns.The door to the room is ajar.Just enough that an ethereal golden light can slip through, illuminating the dank corridors with a superficial glow. As I carefully plod forward, shadows shift in and out of the light, dispelling it in shimmering waves of icy cold all over the floor. As my hand lingers on the handle, working up the courage to go inside, all at once the door is pushed open, and I am flooded with light. A tall, pale figure silhouettes the doorway, white hair ruffled, crimson eyes gleaming with a maddened glee. His voice is enough to send shivers jolting down my spine."Come in, my pet.. I have been expecting you."
