“Leave this place, scion of Chaos. Never return.

We have our duty, our eternal vigil, and you have your tasks ahead of you,

whatever they may be,” replied the voice.

The Azat waited for the monstrous insects to attack. He had thought of casting a spell, yet somehow, the absence of a noticeable hostile intent stopped the act. The spiders had not even moved toward the pair. What the cluster did was to arrange themselves in front of the largest specimen.

“What do you think?” he asked Sheqer, more perplexed than alarmed.

The demon was watching the arachnids idly. Pavel noted the relaxed stance of the bard. No sense of alarm came over the bond connecting the duo. Sheqer wasn’t even preparing any spell.

Fucking interested again, considered the man.

But despite such signs, he couldn’t get himself to adopt the same attitude. The legion of staring large and small blue orbs was unnerving by itself, even if the clattering and clicking sounds have ceased.

“Chaos spawn.”

The voice echoed in his mind. It sounded alien, as if human speech was forced through strange throats not meant for the language. The sudden intrusion was alarming and jarring, all at the same time. Yet it conveyed a calm and collected feeling, even as his psyche recoiled from the sound’s inhuman quality.

“I hear you and bade you greetings,” replied the Azat in his thoughts. Relief washed over him. They didn’t have to fight the entire clutter.

He admitted it was a bizarre experience. Never had he tried communicating by such means. Concern arose on how deep the mental intrusion was, but Pavel found that the message merely skimmed the forefront of his mind. He himself had to concentrate on replying. But the unearthly quality of the voice was a dreadful surprise.

“A polite one. What brings you to our abode, Chaos spawn?”

Pavel considered his reply. The lack of hostile intent was still there, but he got a distinct feeling that the speaker was uncomfortable dealing with him. Faint distaste was evident in the tone.

Makes two of us, thought the man. At least he wasn’t the only one averse to the need to communicate. The alien essence which marked the discourse already gave him goosebumps.

“A task. The Rubric of Li Fen, or what remains of it,” answered Pavel, resolving to get the conversation over as fast as possible. He didn’t think he could stand the caress of an eerie, alien voice in his mind for much longer.

“The stolen artifact. The theft which woke us up. It’s gone, Chaos spawn. Mortals stole it, though we still wonder why. Powerful secrets of knowledge and mighty artifacts remain in our charge. Yet the thieves seem happy with a collection of long-forgotten and virtually useless manuscripts,” revealed the entity.

“Does it contain spells?” ventured Pavel. The being could judge it as insignificant, but if it contained spells or clues to powerful conjurations, then it would be of inestimable value to those who took it.

“It mentions a number and even describes some in detail, but it would take a formidable mage to see beyond what was written. But most of it were but ordinary dissertations of mages, grievous errors and laughable mistakes included,” came the clarification, a reply which made the Azat wonder if the tone he discerned was amusement or disdain.

“So, they took all of it? The Rubric, I mean?” emphasized Pavel. He wanted to be sure that nothing remained. Somehow, the man felt that if anything was left behind and asked for it, they would freely give such manuscripts, if only to get him out of the complex quickly.

“Gone. All of it. If that was what you seek, then your quest was useless. Even if it was here, we would have given it to you with nary an objection. It’s not even among our concerns. Yet breaking the seal leading to this place or subsequent visitations were acts requiring punishment,” retorted the entity.

***

Pavel looked at the knowing face of the bard. He knew what Sheqer was thinking. The I told so smugness meant the statement didn’t even need to be said out loud. Namir did send him to Yemoti K’elebeti to die.

“Then there’s no need for us to stay longer in this place,” professed Pavel. He noticed that the guardian avoided giving the Azat its name or title. It didn’t even ask for their names.

“Leave this place, scion of Chaos. Never return. We have our duty, our eternal vigil, and you have your tasks ahead of you, whatever they may be,” replied the voice.

“If I don’t?” asked Pavel, not knowing why he posed the query. It was a statement born out of impulse.

“Then we battle. We would lose in the end, but we’ll bring down this massive cavern down on your head. Your mortal form would never make it out in one piece.”

Pavel didn’t relish struggling through tons of rock and debris. He’d probably lose more than one life in the effort. But the answer aroused his curiosity. The entity knew about the turbulent energy hidden within him, and it referred to him as a mortal form. What added to his surprise was the admission by the guardian that they would lose.

“What do you know of me then, creature?” he ventured. There was nothing more Pavel would like than to be on their way, but curiosity begged him to stay for a little while. There was knowledge to be gained.

Pavel could hear the echo of a sibilant laugh in his mind. The sound brought an icy touch that left its frigid mark on his mind. It was but a momentary occurrence, but it was one the Azat didn’t want to experience again. The very alienness of what touched him made him shudder.

“If you don’t know that much about yourself, then who are we to tamper with the designs of Chaos? An ignorant mortal you may be, but that’s His plan. We don’t dare interfere. Now leave,” repeated the creature.

“You fear Chaos?” asked the Azat, his interest now stoked by the peculiar answer.

“Chaos destroys the natural order of things, including magic of the natural order. Such power is not for mortals to wield. A fact which now begs the questions of who really are you? We see a human, nothing more. Your existence is a contradiction, and we refuse to have anything to do with you.”

The man sensed irritation and impatience. Pavel knew he had a short time left. The patience of an embodiment of nature, one which took on the form of the mother of a colony of giant spiders, was one thing he didn’t want to test.

“Your demonic sibling tried to take a bite out of this contradiction,” he commented, shifting the burden and blame to the creature and its kind.

“That guardian is a demon and merely followed what made it what it is,” came the dismissive reply.

Pavel noticed that the spider guardian also took pains in avoiding mentioning the demon’s name. But he expected it. Knowing the true name of magical beings gave its possessor control over the entity. Even his relationship with Sheqer was through the geas resulting from the oath. The bard would certainly avoid giving Pavel his hidden name. All he could expect were anonyms.

“Just how many of you are there, guardian?” he asked.

“Such a question normally merits our refusal and the imposition of the proper punishment for such impertinence. But to a true chaos spawn, we give exception. Know that four guardians hold eternal vigil over this place. A demon, a spirit of nature, an embodiment of elemental forces, and finally, an entity made of magic. You’ve met the demon and the nature guardian, though I prefer this form,” replied the spider.

Pavel reflected they were lucky. They’ve met two of the four, and only the demon was hostile. Not that he was interested in meeting the other guardians. They guarded powerful relics. It would be logical to assume that the demon, as the watchdog, or entrance guardian, would be the weakest of the group. The artifacts or knowledge valued by the builders of the complex would warrant the guardianship of the more powerful spirits. Not that the demonic custodian was a pushover.

“Take the door to your left. It will lead you to the surface. But be warned. The demon holds sway over the areas near the entrances of this place. Yet I do not recommend more destruction. My other brethren might finally take offense and rise from their own domains,” said the being, pre-empting any further questions about the complex and its magical protectors.

“Then how are we going to pass them without engaging in battle? There are a lot of those Fingers, and I doubt if the demon would just let us through after everything that had happened,” observed Pavel.

“Bar the fingers from following you by creating magical barriers tethered to the stone walls. The possibility of being directly responsible for any damage to this place would render my demonic brother inutile, his Fingers stuck behind a magical wall. That spell would be within your capabilities,” answered the creature.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

***

The pair found themselves at the mentioned exit after a considerable time. An empty chamber greeted them, and at the far end, they could see an opened door. Pavel never thought the sight of the sun’s rays could look so beautiful.

From the light outside, the Azat saw it was already in the middle of the afternoon. They have been inside for more than a day. As they walked forward, Sheqer pointed out another opening that led to the complex.

It was several feet in width, enough for an undead mob to come rushing out at once. Thankfully, it was empty of any walking corpse. That made Pavel stop and examine the entrance further. He deemed it unusual for the demonic guardian to miss posting some of its undead in the space. The only possibility for the fortuitous circumstance was that the nature guardian intentionally prevented the demon from posting guards in this area of the complex.

Must be in a hurry to get rid of me, he concluded. But we share the same sentiment. I can’t also wait to be free of this accursed place.

“The spell?” said Sheqer, referring to what the nature guardian suggested.

“Be my guest,” replied Pavel, though in truth, he wasn’t that confident about his skill in laying down such an intricate magical obstruction. It demanded finesse and an experienced touch. He knew he still didn’t have those abilities. The man sensed the immediate action of the bard. An immense mass of energy was flung at the gaping hole, then Sheqer took time to anchor the barrier to the chamber’s walls.

“There!” exclaimed the demon after he was done.

It was a timely conjuration. Pavel sensed a mass of creatures hurrying up the hallway. When the pair neared the exit leading to the surface, he looked back, only to be greeted by glowing, undead eyes gathered at the sealed opening.

He heard the bard laugh and saw the demon giving the halted mob a rude, vulgar gesture.

Farelian, observed Pavel with amusement. The bard was undoubtedly a fast learner.

***

The demon was the first to pass through the exit and just as quickly withdrew. The bard’s arm extended backward, preventing the man from following.

“Men. Soldiers and mages. A sizeable force is stationed in the ruins outside,” said the bard.

“Farel?” asked Pavel, though he couldn’t imagine that kingdom being able to march an army freely through Namir.

“No, I see seahorse heraldry. They’re of Namir, all watching the entrance where we entered the complex,” described the demon. “I believe that Captain Materis couldn’t wait to cut our throats.”

Pavel smiled grimly. He had already accepted Sheqer’s conclusion that they were sent to the ruins to die. The force outside only meant Namir wanted to make sure they were dead. It flattered him. The Azat didn’t expect that Captain Materis and his associates thought highly of the pair’s abilities.

The exit the duo was told to use was in the eastern part of the mountainside surrounding the ancient ruins. They had entered the cavern system through a northern entrance. A quick question revealed that the east exit appeared as part of the mountainside. It wasn’t visible, and the bard doubted if the magic of Namir’s mages could detect it.

“I guess the visible entrance to the underground complex led to the favorite killing ground of the Fingers,” Pavel remarked acidly.

The bard nodded and remarked that it was a typical hunting technique – leave an obvious opening and prey would naturally gravitate to the gap. The Azat considered their situation. At least they couldn’t be detected while inside the complex, though he observed it went both ways. The pair didn’t sense Namir’s greeting party too.

“How many?” he asked Sheqer.

“A thousand or two. They’re all over the place,” said the bard.

“Well, we can’t stay inside forever. If this is the eastern exit, then I guess the gorge is the southern, and the western one would be on the other side. We also can’t cast spells from in here,” observed Pavel. “Let’s go out. For all we know, it’s an escort party.”

The Azat’s statement resulted in the bard laughing so hard that the man had to wait for several minutes until the outpouring of hilarity ended. Once Pavel saw that the demon was himself again, he quickly stepped across the threshold, followed by the bard.

“Had fun?” he asked.

“That was hilarious, Master. What do we do now?”

“Wait. I want an explanation for this situation. But study the way to the gorge and then find the best way of battering our way out of this place,” whispered Pavel. He already saw that soldiers had seen them, and several men were rushing to a tent set up near the middle of the site.

“You could do what you did back in the hall,” suggested Sheqer.

“And bury ourselves too? Not while we’re inside the ruins,” cracked the Azat. “Lather that demonic brain with some common sense.”

Then Pavel saw a group of soldiers speedily making their way toward them. He recognized the leader. It was Captain Materis.

“Greetings, my dear Captain. I thought you’d wait for us back in Namir,” called Pavel when the approaching group halted several paces away. The captain stepped out from behind the group.

“Plans change, Arno. Though by now, you must have realized there’s no way out for both of you,” replied the captain.

“I guessed as much,” said the Azat. “Somebody got your precious Rubric and left nothing behind.”

“It was a convenient excuse. You see, too many dangerous elements attended your presence in Namir. A mage of a considerable level sent to kill an unknown mercenary. The presence of the assassins we could understand. They were there for another target. But to send such a powerful enforcer against you only meant Arno was more than what he appeared. And to defeat such a mage?” said the captain.

The Azat kept his silence.

“The Duchy has plans, and we don’t intend unknown factors to upset or disturb them, like you,” continued the man. “You’ve drawn too many unwelcome eyes.”

“I guess that’s the reason for all these soldiers and mages,” replied Pavel casually.

“See? An ordinary mercenary, even an experienced and highly paid one, wouldn’t be able to determine the presence of mages among my men. You’re not a mercenary, Arno, Pavel, or whatever’s your name. Don’t take it personally, but this is grand politics, and carefully laid plans don’t need loose ink running all over the parchment. We even took care of those spies and scouts tracking you.”

“A battle, then,” concluded the Azat, who then realized something. Funny, I just said the same thing to that spider.

“I’ll ask my men to make it a quick death for you both. Even in death, you’ll serve the Duchy’s interest. Anybody interested is bound to think you’re dead inside the ruins, or still within, looking for secrets,” grinned the man. The royal gave a slight bow. “Farewell. I am glad you didn’t start begging for your life or something similar. I detest such scenes.”

“My thanks for the kind words, Captain. See you,” laughed Pavel.

“That’s the spirit,” said the officer as he walked away.

Pavel saw soldiers and mages moving into formations, adjusting to the layout of the ruined structures. He glanced at Sheqer.

“Your plan?”

***

The demon beamed.

“A rush to the exit. Three rules for our escape,” he told the Azat. Pavel couldn’t believe his ears. An army was going to attack, and his companion was spouting nonsense.

“Rules?”

“One, it’s an us against them situation. No exceptions? As in, do we leave anyone alive?”

The befuddled Pavel shook his head. It was more in disbelief, but the bard took it as a sign of agreement.

“Second, we guard each other’s back, and third, leave things to me. Just go with the flow.”

This time, the Azat nodded. A quick glimpse showed him Namir’s soldiers and mages had nearly completed their movements. No spell had been cast against them yet, or an arrow loosed against their position. Captain Materis was taking his time. Pavel knew the caution was born out of what the officer had heard, and the good captain wanted to be sure he got the job done.

“Oh, one more. That makes it four rules. Once past the gorge, it becomes your responsibility to seal the entrance behind us. That chaos power again, if you please,” said the bard with evident glee.

“You blasted imp. We’re not going to talk them to death. Just do what you intend to do,” exclaimed the man. It was a performance by the bard, but as usual, the timing was terrible. Sheqer still hadn’t learned when and where to be dramatic about matters.

The man’s exasperation only met with a smirk. The bard quickly grabbed Pavel by the waist, and a shield of incredible power surrounded them. Simultaneously, a massive wave of repulsive force smashed into the soldiers and mages blocking the way to the gorge. The roads’ linear design made it easier for the spell to carve out a clear path for the pair. Then fireballs and lightning bolts rained down on the area.

The man could sense the panic and alarm among Namir’s forces. Magical barriers could minimize the damage and death, but it gave the duo precious time to make their escape. The mages, in particular, would be too concerned about saving their own skins. Yet Pavel changed his mind about the demon. Sheqer had the common sense not to attempt using the stones of the ruins. An ancient magic still ran deep in some structures, and it would have been a waste of time and energy getting them to move and crush flesh and bone.

“Here goes!” shouted the excited bard. Pavel suddenly felt lifted, and the pair moved to their destination with unbelievable speed. The Azat couldn’t make out their surroundings because of the swiftness of their movement. The man could make out a prow-shaped construct in front, fashionably festooned with spikes and long, sharp blades. The demon wasn’t taking any chances. Anybody able to withstand the initial repulsion spell was going to be crushed by Sheqer’s killing contraption.

Suddenly, Pavel found they were outside the gorge. His companion vanished, and when the Azat turned from looking at the entrance, the demon had reappeared by his side. Around them were the bloody remains of Namir’s guards. This time, the bard was quick about it. Sheqer didn’t take the time to enjoy killing. He swiftly sliced and cut the surprised soldiers and mages into pieces. The man saw the gory field around them and smelled the metallic tang of blood spiced with the disagreeable odor of excrement and internal organs.

“I’m spent,” said the demon with a trace of weariness. “Your turn. Close the gorge.”

Pavel dug deep within and released a sizeable amount of power, willing the two sides of the narrow opening to collapse. The energy seemed to have a life of its own as it reached out and struck the upper parts of the gorge. Massive chunks of earth and stone fell into the gap. Then he felt what happened before. Tendrils of power escaped and ran amok, running through the mountainside enclosing Yemoti K’elebeti. The Azat heard the rumble of rock avalanches. The massif was raining down on the complex.

“Impressive,” commented the bard. “Those guardians should thank you. I don’t think anybody’s going to disturb them for a long time.”

The man gave a non-committal shrug. Their attention was then called by the shaking of the two massive yet weathered sculptures placed just outside the now-destroyed ravine. Pieces of stone fell from the images, revealing colossal birds in their place. Pavel was so astounded he couldn’t say anything.

“Rukhs!” exclaimed the bard.

“What?”

“Magical flying predators, famed for their size. Don’t tell me such beasts aren’t on this world?” said the bard.

Pavel’s mind raced and came up with a name – Aruhh.

“I believe we call them Aruhh here,” said the man.

The two giants stared at them and then took flight, leaving a small dust storm in their wake. Pavel saw they headed south.

“They’re creations of Chaos. Why didn’t you call them? Flying’s a faster way to travel,” asked the baffled Sheqer.

He reflected on what happened. Pavel sensed a connection to the giant creatures, but the relationship ended there. Like the runaway tendrils of energy, he still couldn’t control the results of such power. He could barely handle the awakened mass which released that destructive blast. Managing its effects was still beyond him.

The demon noticed his thoughtful demeanor and laughed. It wasn’t derisive or even condescending. It was amusement and a carefree attitude rolled into one.

“You couldn’t control them, Master? Don’t worry. Your power to generate Chaos has grown. You could bring to life all the massive sculptures we find for all I care. It might even make life more interesting for this world’s mages. They’d finally find magical creatures they can’t or don’t have any hope of controlling,” the demon commented with a dangerous glint in its eyes.

“And create chaos and havoc throughout the kingdoms?” exclaimed the shocked Azat.

“Only in unfriendly places, if the human in you objects to the idea. Let’s hope the Alta Sep is fond of gigantic statues.”

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