It wasn’t long before they all said their goodbyes to Lyssandra. As Wilfred hugged her, a smile lit up her face. Is that the fantasy worth keeping? Ezra felt he didn’t have the right to answer either way. Beside him, Ezra could tell Milo was having similar feelings, but he hid it better.
In the morning light, the outskirts revealed its dirt-brushed structures and uneven roads that cut through lines of buildings like a twisting snake. Once they were a considerable distance from the house, Wilfred pulled them aside before the frustration on Milo’s and Ezra’s faces manifested into a question.
“I know both of you want to know why we’re not taking that man with us.”
I already have a good idea of why. It took everything within Ezra to not blurt that out, so he cast his eyes toward the ground.
“I extracted information from him,” Wilfred continued. “And then disposed of him. He left little options.” His dead stare settled on Ezra a moment longer than was comfortable. “Like we suspected, he is from the Shatterfold guild.”
“It was on his coat,” Ezra cut in. His frustration simmered below the surface.
Wilfred chewed his lip in a frown and then let the statement pass by as if it was never heard. “I also discovered Shatterfold is working closely with Faulpher-tek. He came out here to clean up previous Faulpher-tek facilities and investigate a ruin of the old world for artifacts. They’re moving faster than these last few months, and the fact he was at the warehouse means we were on the right track.”
“A ruin of the old world?” An image of the Thorin-sphere flashed through Ezra’s mind.
“Yeah, Theal’neblis. It’s all but a religious structure now, but many of the locals won’t go near the damn thing. Nothing but rumors that breed irrational fear. But if Faulpher-tek has an interest in it, they must be stopped.”
“So what’s the plan?” Milo asked.
Wilfred stroked the stubble on his chin and glanced to both sides of the alleyway. “Seeker’s day is only two weeks away, so we’ll have to act fast.”
“I’ll go to Theal’neblis,” Ezra said with firm resolution.
Wilfred nodded and then focused his attention on Milo. “Do you think you could get close to someone in Shatterfold? I need to know the extent of their relationship with Faulpher-tek.”
“What about you?” Milo replied.
Wilfred pulled out the green leather notebook. “I took a look at this last night. I think Marlaove is trying to tell me something. I have a hunch on where he’s leading me, but there’s somewhere I need to check first. Let's all meet outside Lyssandra’s home before the last light. Does that sound ok to both of you?”
“Sure.” Ezra held a firm gaze, trying to look down on a man that was slightly taller than him.
Milo sighed as he leaned against a wall of the alleyway. “That’s easy for you to say. I have the hardest job. Going straight to the heart of the enemy, gathering information, and then making it out alive. Not to mention I had a part in killing one of their members. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re looking for us as we speak.”
“No one knows we fought the guy in the warehouse,” Ezra reassured him. “Maybe they’ll notice he’s gone, but there’s no reason for them to suspect you.”
“Fine, but if I feel like things are going wrong, I’m out of there.” Milo pushed himself off the wall and mustered a smile as he shook his head.
“Remember Lyssandra’s. Last light.” After those words, Wilfred left the alleyway as Milo and Ezra gave each other one last parting nod before all of them split up.
Venturing further, nearly to the edge of the outskirts, Ezra could hear the wind ripple across the grassy plains beyond. Buildings were becoming sparse, and the noise of busy streets faded to a murmur. Theal’neblis wasn’t far now. Only a few paces beyond the last dilapidated house, a crater marred the ground with polished and sharpened stone. At the lip of the crater, Ezra was met with a slanted structure in the center, covered in thick roots as if nature demanded this blister on the land to be healed.
A blue light traveled down the roof of the building, no bigger than a small shed, and burrowed deep into the unknown. Everything about this place felt unnatural and inhuman, even more so than the strange artifacts littered throughout the abyss. The danger Ezra felt from the building made him wish he could upgrade his stats, but the beasts he had killed in the warehouse hadn’t pushed him to Level 16 yet.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves and scanning the area for anyone watching, he slid down the black stone. The door to the ancient structure was shut tightly yet emitted a low hum that echoed off the obsidian slopes around him. Ezra ran his hands along the metal, each crevasse buzzing with a strange energy.
Walking around the entire building, there seemed to be no obvious way in other than the door that taunted him with its secrets. It was as if an insatiable pull drew him in. Beckoning him, whispering for a visitor to discover what lay hidden. After another lap, Ezra set his backpack on the ground and searched for the Thorin-sphere.
Feeling the cold metal against his hand, he pulled the shining sphere from the bag. The light on the Thorin-sphere pulsed in rhythm to the dull glow of the building. It’s glowing again just like at the beginning of the Morltin test. He tried to press the top of the sphere to bring up the inventory, but nothing happened. Furrowing his brow, Ezra paced towards the door. As he got closer, the intensity of the blue light from the Thorin-sphere increased.
It's drawn to this place. The grooves on the door were engraved in symmetrical patterns with sharp edges that drew a square around the center. In the center of the square, moss flourished and drooped down in bushy green patches. Tearing the moss away, Ezra uncovered a smooth surface that was transparent with an opaque backing inlaid deeper into the door. The light from the Thorin-sphere sparkled on the surface, and Ezra pressed it closer. Upon touching the center, blue light filled the grooves as if the energy of the Thorin-sphere was pouring into the building.
A fathomless rumble disturbed the ancient structure as it groaned like it was waking from a deep sleep. Ezra took a step back as the door sunk into the ground to reveal a hallway dimly lit by lines of blue running down the walls. Gripping the Thorin-sphere tighter, he took a step into the unknown.
The air was damper down here, and a cold breeze tapped the back of his neck. A stale scent of the past filled Ezra’s nostrils with each breath, yet he went deeper and deeper until the only light present was the Thorin-sphere and the lines of energy streaking along the walls. After time had become an afterthought, the stairs ended at a floor of polished stone.
Ezra could faintly discern the edges of the room. It was square with a rounded wall opposite the entrance, and along the wall, five chairs were raised a few steps off the ground. Taking several cautious steps along the damp floor, the light from the Thorin-sphere highlighted a slanted surface about the height of his waist. A blank screen of glass sat next to several buttons in various tones of gray. Using the Thorin-sphere as a flashlight, Ezra peered at what seemed to be a control panel.
Upon a button in the top right corner, the words “replay last recording” were plastered in black. Ezra scanned the room one last time before pressing it. In front of him, a scene made of hues of blue flashed to life. Five old men sat in the chairs comfortably as if they had been molded from them. Below the old men, a young man and woman stood to confront them.
“Why won’t you approve our expedition? We’ve gone through the proper channels as you’ve said.” The young man’s voice sounded familiar to Ezra.
The woman clasped her hands as if she was ready to plead with these men. Her eyes looked familiar. Hope and persistence made her pupils sparkle.
A man with deep wrinkles that creased his forehead raised a hand in which skin barely clung to his skeleton. “The Fablers will not be pleased; it is only under their guidance that the story of this grand civilization continues to be written in the stars.”
“But you don’t know that!” The young man raised his voice, and it echoed past Ezra and up the stairs.
“Have faith, Thorin.”
Ezra’s eyes widened at the name as he stared down at the words carved into the metallic ball. To Thorin.
The old man continued his lecture with a fervor that belied his age. “Faith that the Fablers will…”
“Then why must they write my story? I don’t want to be written into the stars or become part of legend. Fame, glory, and legacy—all that means nothing to me as long as I’m.” He glanced over to the woman. “As long as we are trapped in this hole.”
“There will be a time when man will ascend, but now is not that time.” The old man shot a glare to the back of the room that could have killed anyone standing behind Thorin. “Prosperity comes with patience. Peace with stillness and assurance with trust. The fate of humanity does not lie with a young man who doesn’t know his place.”
“It’s not trust.” Thorin’s voice shook with righteous anger. “You fear them. The Fablers. You’ve never seen them, but you let them control you. My story isn’t written in the stars; it’s written here.” Thorin put a fist to his chest and stared down the council with a determination that made Ezra take a step back. “My heart calls for more. To go higher and find out what is really up there.” Silence shadowed the room, and the men frowned at Thorin. “Maryel, we’re leaving.”
Thorin turned to face Ezra, and Maryel followed after a quick curtsy to the old men. The holographic projection stormed towards Ezra, and he closed his eyes as the blue light passed through him and faded into nothing. The Thorin-sphere buzzed to life, and a high-pitched beep reverberated across the stone walls. He glanced down to see new words flashing on the screen.
Clearance Level Two Activated
“It is not his heart that calls him to the top.” The old man murmured before fading into darkness. The button on the panel clicked to indicate the recording was over, and Ezra was left to ponder where Thorin’s journey would take him next.