“Soot sprites! There, look!”
Mirai exclaimed in a hurried whisper, pointing to the fuzzy fuligin spheres retreating away from the light. They were singing a chorus of what sounded like numerous brooms upon a dusty fireplace, moving like a frightened herd.
Elwin approached with cautious footsteps, relaxing his fingers in their dance to dim the flame upon the tip of his finger. One sootball fell behind the herd with nowhere to go, and as Elwin approached, turned to face him. It set its little googly eyes on Elwin’s fire, which made Elwin halt in surprise for he didn’t expect a face. It began trembling its little fur like a ruffled critter.
“Don’t worry, little sootball, I’m not going to hurt you,” he consoled, gently drawing his fire away. The sootball retreated into a corner, floating a little above the floor, and darted past an abandoned cupboard into the crack in the wall.
“Are they animals? Insects?”
“I think they’re spirits!”
“Spirits? I thought they were only from tales of old,” Elwin murmured, “Before the light of experimental philosophy. What gives?”
“My father once told me that when something gets to exist for a long, long time, it gains a sort of sentience on its own. It applies to things we make, like a broom or a fireplace, and also for things we don’t, like trees and rocks.”
“So everything has a Kaha of its own?”
“You could say that,” replied Mirai. “Appearing as little spirits like these.”
“It’s just like our Quan, then! Souls within things. And if soot sprites are around us, then... we must be getting pretty close to the inner ring of the city. There must be heaps of old abandoned stuff there.”
“Let’s quicken our pace,” Mirai suggested, as both of them broke into a light jog, enamored by their approaching goal, their sacks rustling on their backs. They came through to a small chamber, a long hallway, to what seemed like an avenue, and all of a sudden the quality of their footsteps changed. Their treads were no longer muffled thuds, and instead echoed as far as the ear could discern, returning as distinct claps.
“Should we grant ourselves a little more light?” Elwin inquired.
Mirai made a cautious approval, eyes honed for what may come out of the dark.
Elwin, making miniaturized movements of the Dance of the Sparks with his fingers, coaxed the flame anew at the tip of his hand.
The vista which it revealed mesmerized them both.
Around the two lonely figures stood pillars upon pillars of mighty hewn rock, stretching as far as the light could illuminate; each occupied as much space in thickness as the trunks of thousand-year oaks. Far, far above them, etched into the subterranean sky, were a nearly uncountable number of sparkling specks, reflecting Elwin’s flame like constellations carved into the backbone of night. A soft hum of trickling water and glimmering pools caught both of their eyes; two city-rivers, each channel wide enough for a pontoon, flowed like glazed mirrors in the dark, and between them both, a smooth causeway of polished basalt and tiled marble proceeded into the great, unknowable distance. It was the only road they could take, and with cautious delight, the halves of the kismets began to make their way.
Upon the tenth minute they spotted a depression in the spacious road patterned like a diamond, a remarkable altar on an otherwise unremarkable extension of the causeway. A single beam of orange light breached the deep earth and shone onto it, where moss and lichen was allowed to grow, along with wispy ferns rooted in cracks of stone.
When Elwin and Mirai stepped upon it –
“WHO DARES TREAD UPON ASTINEL’S DOMAIN?”
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, in a roar that eclipsed what any living being could conceivably conjure, making itself known by rattling their very bones and eyes. Elwin and Mirai hurriedly backed away, glancing all around them for an approaching danger, a monster in the dark, the speaker of the voice; and as soon as they had stepped off the peculiar altar all surface began to quake, and four pillars next to them began to crack and hew. Several boulders flew out of them and smashed mid-air above the altar, suspended by an unknown force; the riverine water on their sides sloshed and churned as an entire pond’s worth of liquid emerged from it, combining with the hewn boulders and plant matter in the center to form a ball – no a shape – a creature – a colossal being shaped like the great Celendir, wolf, and tortoise put together, the water becoming its muscles and stone its carapace. Two glowing eyes began to shine with radiance like amber at the sides of its head, its jaw assembling with hundreds of jagged teeth each as long as Elwin’s foot. With an ear-splitting roar it laid down its front paws, claws sparking against basalt like blades upon grindstone, its snout almost nudging Elwin and Mirai who could neither run nor cower. It stared into them and their souls, as still as a predator to its prey.
Stolen story; please report.
“REVEAL YOUR TRUE NAMES,” the great creature commanded, speaking not through the air or through its mouth, but casting its voice with all its portent and meaning into their waking minds.
Elwin and Mirai took a terrified gulp, barely able to glance at each other. With a shaky voice, but as clearly as possible, they returned the order.
“I – I am Elwin Eramir.”
“My name is Mirai Hinozawa.”
The creature paused a moment, as if to savor the taste of their labels upon its tongue.
“Who are you?” Mirai inquired, mustering her calm.
The creature mused, the waters constituting its body luminous with rays of cerulean green, light produced from somewhere within its form.
It reared on its hind legs, ascending in height to several stories tall, and gave its answer.
“I AM HÛNBABA, GUARDIAN OF THIS CITY OF EARTH.”
Elwin’s father had once told him that the spirits of nature had all been banished from their world since the time of the FOUNDERS, but in deep places of the world, some may yet still slumber. Perhaps this was one of them... it didn’t feel comfortable that such spirits once held absolute dominion over the Earth, and humankind before the FOUNDERS were once motes of dust in their presence. The Marlin King, his father explained, could have been a descendent of other kings in the ocean even primeval still. The stories of the ancient world were indeed true!
“Are you a great spirit?” Elwin jittered, his hair on end.
Hûnbaba lowered its stance and put its snout close to Elwin’s trembling visage.
“YOU KNOW MUCH FOR A SPECIES WITH AMNESIA,” it returned in sardonic appraisal, the timbre of its voice upon their heads beating like drums. With its titanic claws the spirit seized a pillar in the entirety of its circumference, and began to crush the dense basalt in its grip like a roll of tissue paper.
“FOR BEINGS UTTERLY MORTAL!”
Elwin and Mirai stepped back once, mortally afraid. But stood their ground they did, not ready to relinquish their human dignity to grovel at a spirit’s feet. They enunciated their next words with calculated clarity.
“Hûnbaba, we have not come to harm this city nor take it in vain. We beseech your understanding, for we have come as friends, not enemies.”
“I HAVE A PACT WITH ASTINEL ARCANA TO PROTECT THIS PLACE, INSOFAR HE DEFENDS MY FOREST OF NORTH.”
Hûnbaba rumbled in their heads.
“WHO IS THE PROTECTOR OF SPIRITS TO YOU, SO PUNY AND UNLIKE?”
They had to muster all their strength to not faint from the ferocity of its – his – delivery. To the spirit Hûnbaba, the two in front of him were as mere wisps to the tempest that was Astinel.
“He was once our headmaster, one-thousand and one hundred years ago. We are students of the Academy he founded.”
“HIS DISCIPLES, YOU SPEAK?”
“We are.”
A great sweeping vibration came over the great spirit Hûnbaba, as if it was confirming the truth of their statement. Its glimmering amber gaze probed their souls like a rod of red-hot spear upon honey, and they felt their hearts and minds being scrutinized like open books.
The rows of teeth upon its stone-snout retracted one by one, and the great spirit spoke again.
“WHAT PURPOSE ATTRACTS YOU HERE?”
Elwin glanced worryingly to Mirai. She had once confronted the MAHA from the beyond, and was far better equipped to grapple with whoever this spirit was.
“We have come here for the Franen Tournament of Aeternitas, a tradition started by Consul Astinel,” she spoke. “We have been tasked to search his staff in this city, and return with it to the surface. But we have lost our friends, and do not know the way.”
Hûnbaba raised his vision to the subterranean sky. The great spirit was impervious to any attempts to read nor discern his thoughts.
“YOU TWO AND FIFTEEN OTHERS, I SEE.”
“Fifteen others? That makes seventeen, great spirit. But only sixteen of us have entered this place.”
Hûnbaba made no reply.
“Great spirit, as guardian of this city, you must know where our friends may be. Could you grant us your blessings to find them, for the roads wind forever into darkness?”
With Elwin’s request Hûnbaba snarled in waves of varying pitch.
“YOU ENTERED THE DARK ON YOUR OWN ACCORD. WHY –” Hûnbaba growled, pushing his claw deep into Elwin’s robe, crinkling it, “MUST I AID YOU?”
Elwin looked at Mirai again, but she was out of words like him. He had to improvise. Just what would persuade the great spirit to help them both?
As he felt his mind seize, he felt someone’s hand upon his shoulder. He turned his head into the dark behind him, frightened, but found no one there; still the sensation lingered in his wit, and realized it was the same one he’d encountered back at the entrance exam, when his father appeared in his thoughts to help him.
Perhaps this could work.
“Surely I cannot argue with you, great spirit, to do a bidding for beings unlike yourself. There is no reason I can give that will be to your liking. But –” he said, clenching his fist on the gamble, “it is not hard to deduce that news of the outside world seldom reaches this place. Most certainly you would be delighted in hearing a tale from above and beyond.”
“YOU PROPOSE AN ENLIVENING TALE FOR MY AID?”
“I do.”
Hûnbaba’s voice in their heads began to roll like waves, in what sounded like laughter.
“WHAT HARDIHOOD, PUNY ONE!”
Both gulped.
“FOR YOUR AUDACITY, I ACCEPT. SHOULD I BE ENTERTAINED, I SHALL GIVE YOU MY BLESSING. IF NOT, YOU SHALL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY.”
“Agreed,” Elwin replied, spying a look of worry upon Mirai.
“WHAT TALE SHALL YOU MUSTER?”
It had to be a tale which wouldn’t have been heard in Mythrise, since the spirit made it his home. Elwin flicked through the pages of his memory, laden with many stories his father told him on their hunting expeditions out at sea. Somewhere beyond home – somewhere beyond Mythrise – somewhere beyond the ocean –
He had it!
“That of the Serpent and the Dragon.”