I stare at the floor beneath me, a series of tiles set in an inscrutable order, filled with enough runes to presumably blow me to pieces. With a door on the other side stacked with runes, and a small oasis in the front with no runes.

My mind races at the unexpected words of the First Shaman. For who else’s voice could be so mind-numbingly cocky.

I gather my thoughts and reveal a small smile. I am floating above the tiles and am in no danger from a simple pressure plate. So I float over to the door and pull out my laser.

Or well my hair braces, hardened photon devices once you jailbreak them turn into pretty powerful, if unfocused lasers.

I pat it, I’ve been mostly conserving its power since I lost the base. I sigh saddened by the thought of my destroyed home wrecked by a passing war. But anyway the hair braces should pack enough of a punch that it should bore through this door in no time.

With glee in my eyes and the sound effects of a chainsaw coming from my mouth, I force the makeshift laser to roar to life and blast out a collum of light.

The lights slam into the barrier starting to crack it like glass. But as I do so the smile drops from my face, as all the tiles beneath me, light up a dangerous looking red.

I thinking quickly on my feet, throw a quick wind wave at the ceiling, using the force to blast me off the grid and onto the small area of safety on the door

I hurtle through the strange fluid grasping my hair braces tightly in my arms, my shoulder crashing into the harsh stone, as I skid along the stone until I crash into the barrier.

And I watch hissing from the pain as boulders erupt from the ground, fires burst into existence, water saws spin to life, and razor-sharp winds blow, mere inches away from my tiny sanctuary.

I scramble my feet scraping against the floor as I push off the gray stone. As my mind keeps rolling in circles, my thoughts fall into a groove of panic, and urgency. But in time it slows.

And I breathe in and out, gusts of winds forced from my chest, as I focus in on my dream, I gaze at the sight of my own home that was robbed from me, and I state to myself

“That damn First Shaman had to have a way to get to his own inner sanctum, and it probably has something to do with all these tiles”

A half plan in mind I start to look at the tiles, careful to not float above them in case I get murdered by a barrage of magic appearing from nowhere, who knows what gets it started?

I take a deep breath, before I get this fixed what are these runes?

I know that there were four types of elemental attacks, 1 for each of the classical elements, but which element corresponded to which rune? Ugh, what are they, I stare at the tiles in front of me and realize something.

This tile in front of me uses the same exact rune, as the water-producing rune from the vision!

It’s the largest rune in the middle but it’s not alone. There seem to be strange lines that connect the big rune to a web of smaller runes. My guess is that they modify the extremely simple magical effect of water, into those terrifying water saws.

I shiver and hold my shoulders, remembering the sight of the rapidly flowing water, fast enough to slice through metal. I shake my head trying to rid myself of useless thoughts, alright even if this is fascinating how does this help me get through the door?

I grab my chin, maybe if there’s some sort of password, the tiles that have the answer will have different runes. I shrug it’s probably not the right answer but it’d be a good idea to check anyway for posterity.

I first look, at the ones closest to me, not noticing any real difference between the four templates, but I realize that in order to read all of them, not just the ones right next to me, I would have to place myself above the deadly magical tiles.

Who knows what could happen if I drop a piece of iron, the tile beneath me might blast me with a pillar of fire. Burning to death is one of the most painful ways to die, but do I really want to live with nobody, no friends, no family?

So gritting my teeth I push off the walls and read the rest of them, but there’s no change just the endless repetition of the same four tiles.

What could it be?

Maybe the tiles password functions are on all the tiles? Or the special tiles have their instructions on the bottom? Yuck, Grasping my head I take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

“I have to try something!” I said frustration leaking out through my voice.

So I throw a bundle of nails, on first fire, second water, third earth, and fourth on air. A burst of magical power uncoiled from each press of the plate, reaching all the way to the ceiling.

The combination does nothing, there is no click, no creak, just silence in the wake of destruction. But I didn’t expect to get it on the first try, so I try another, and another, and another. And when I have to grasp for my backpack's strap to get more nails I stop.

I grit my teeth in frustration, knowing that blindly guessing is useless. I have no idea if there’s a password at all, and even if there was there is no guarantee that it’s a four-number combo.

And even if the world was perfect and all that were true, there would still be 10 thousand combinations!

I have to think of something new! What could be a key to the puzzle other than the floor? Wait I haven’t checked anywhere except the floor! I facepalm myself as I swim towards the door.

I stop myself by lightly pushing off the shield careful to not trigger it, and examine it’s runes for any familiar pieces. I search and I find the earth rune among them, I didn’t know what it was prior to here but I recognized water, fire, and air, from enchantments in the normal lives of the townspeople. And obviously, if everything else is taken the last has to be earth.

Presumably, the earth rune is making the door more sturdy, but how does this equate to emotions, are rocks an emotion?

It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve seen since I got here anyway.

Bahh, I shouldn’t be thinking of stuff like this right now, at the very least I can guess that the door generates the shield. And maybe interacts with the plates given the aggressive reaction to breaking through the shields.

As soon as I tried to mess with the door the entire floor flared with magical power, creating a wall of fearsome fire, flowing water, heavy stone, and sharp wind. I couldn’t even attack anymore, and the laser was getting weakened by the particles flying everywhere.

Although this does make me wonder, why are all the enchantments runes prominently displayed. Wouldn’t it be better if they were hidden by a thin layer on top? But that might not make sense considering their rune magic seemed to be unique to them. Who hides something that no one else understands?

But wait a minute, I have a book of runes right now, and I remember that the spellbooks the visions mentioned were damn near sacred relics that passed down a communities heritage.

And while I might not understand it completely now, I have a first-hand look at the lives of all the people of the community that made the book. I might not know everything. But I might be able to figure out something I grab the book from my backpack. Flipping through the pages I stop at one that looks exactly like the rune for fire.

I look through all the book, and find all the runes placed on the door inside the book, I still don’t know jack-shit of what they are but, I do have some hope for the future of language techniques. I am the devourer of language. Figuring out this much should be elementary.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

With the help of my gained knowledge, I can probably get started with rudimentary enchantments just not now. I can’t exactly experiment in the astral expanse, or in the middle of a hostile ruin.

So quickly finishing up my examination, I noted down which pages were used for the spells, and flew up, but as I reached the top I frowned.

For I noticed something, there were also tiles on the roof but they weren’t inscribed with runes but rather with words from the community made around this temple.

I carefully examine the writing and am excited when I can crudely translate many words with my experience living through the eyes of the community.

I scan the words eagerly drinking them in until I stop, my jaw dropping as I realize something.

I might not know everything of this language yet, but I do know the words for First Shaman, and as I look I realize quite the conspicuous phrase amongst the mess of words.

I grit my teeth almost refusing to believe the answer, it couldn’t possibly be that!

Before I accept the idiocy and give up, my hand falling down my face, dragging my skin, as I reluctantly fish out some nails and throw them out.

Spelling out the answer ‘First Shaman Is the Best!’

I see the 5 blasts of power erupt into the air before falling into nothingness, as I hear a click and the door opens

—

I float into the room, my throat burning with the shame inherent with praising your enemy, forced to compliment that smarmy bastard!

Worse than that however it's a horrendously idiotic password, anyone who got the slightest glimpse of the First Shaman would know that he couldn't resist complimenting himself. Additionally, even if the defense would work perfectly fine against someone who didn't know the language it's not like your own people can't stroll past what seems to be a heavily defended facility, hell what if a foreign enemy just took the time to learn your language beforehand. It's like making the hint for your passcode, an exact copy of your passcode and hoping nobody knows how to read!

Still burning with frustration I walk into a hallway, before emerging into a wider room, shaped like 3 boxes stacked front to back with yellow gems stuck to the sides of the rooms. I turn my head quizzically. Huh lucky that these gems survived the raid but I need to get moving and unless they’re quartz they aren’t really useful to me.

I rub my face, well this is a bit weird, but at least I'm past the copious ego of that dickheads idiotic security. But I soon regret thinking when as I hear a blast of that ridiculous man's voice yet again.

“DO YOU KNOW ONE OF MY FAVORITE BITS OF MAGIC! GOLEMS, WITH THEM I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO SHOW UP IN ORDER TO MURDER SOME FOOLS. AND SADLY ENOUGH I HAVE TO DEAL WITH A LOT OF THOSE,” The prerecorded voice mocks, as golems unpeel themselves from the walls 6 in total.

The golems glide towards me, a strange recreation of a human with no legs just one shifting collum, with heavy arms like a gorilla, punctuated by a head embedded with glowing amber, the very same crystals I stared at.

I wince, my hands held to my ears as I hear that grating voice pierce into my mind, but I can’t take the time to recover because they’re getting here.

I quickly take my hands away from my hand and instead, invoke anger in the form of a heat beam held between my hands.

Forcing all the heat formed by my burning anger into a singular point and slashing it at the approaching golems

But I am appalled to see that I merely make their outside glow cherry red, at this point, I’m just heating up my enemy's weapon!

I am not given long to think about this though, as the first of the pack reaches me, it swings its fist at me turning with its shoulder, packing all the weight and power of a half-ton of stone into the punch.

I squawk as I push against the air, an awkward motion as if I were flipping a table barely allowing me to slip through the deadly attack.

I wheeze, my lungs complaining as I bang against the floor and rebound back into the air, the golems lunging towards me in my vulnerable state, I instinctively protect my face but they weren’t aiming for it.

The second golem to the right of the first sinks into the ground only to spring forward, its tether to the earth growing thinner as its fists cover my sky.

The heavy stone fist crashes into my ribs and sends me spinning backward, the gravityless environment allowing me to be thrown into the other room.

The air is pushed out as I crash into the shields protecting the exit to the puzzle room. My mind spinning I push off of it before I come to an idea, those golems are connected to the ground.

That means unlike me they can trigger pressure plates!

And also that since they’re bound to the ground I can escape their grasp by floating out of the way. They aren’t tall enough to reach the ceiling!

So with a bloody smile on my face, I swim over to the top at the far back of the room waiting for the foolish golems to die to their creators own defenses.

The golems glide towards me attached to the ground by a flared base of stone. Passing through the threshold I am surprised to see, that they spin, their bases no longer attached to the floor but rather to the walls!

“HAH DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD BREAK MY TOYS, BY USING THE OTHER ONES? IDIOT!” The First Shaman taunts all around me, but I ignore that as the golems approach.

My mind races, desperate to find any solution as they all wind up their punch in unison, and I find one, my arms not aiming to block the punch but instead draw inwards, as I grasp my shoulders.

The sadness lashes out, a burst of cold holding the golems in place. I shaking breathe in, my ribs radiating pain, not allowing a full breath.

But I take what brief break I can have anyway, my brain picking apart itself for any chance at survival, I attempt to calm myself with a deep breath before stopping. I can mostly quickly push, freeze, and heat up stuff magic-wise.

But well none of those can save me. A windwave can’t crush stone, I can’t freeze them indefinitely, and my heat beam is too weak to melt them down!

I hear a crack in the ice and scramble for something, as I suddenly remember something, an idea coming to mind like cracking glass. One thing that's terrible for most materials is a rapid change in temperature!

If I can quickly switch between hot and cold, I can cause cracks in their structure!

I don’t have much time to think it through however before they escape my technique, I lower myself closer to the floor, and push off the walls awkwardly rushing to the other side of the room.

I try to quickly pull myself through the door my eyes kept on the golems as they menacingly approach.

But as I attempt to do so I’m foiled by the position of my arm, stumbling through I try to windwave them away only for them to push through. Their heavy weight allowing them to be unaffected by my magic.

Abandoning my efforts I invoke the biting cold of sadness and hold them in place, ridding them of motion, as I rob them of heat.

I then let go of my shoulders scratching them in order to invoke anger, but as I do so I am horrified to see the cold collapse.

The punches are followed through freed of the oppressive cold, and heavy stone fists crash all over me as my body crashes into the doorframe behind me. Batted about by 6 fists.

With a bruised arm I desperately push myself through, as I reach behind me, grasping for a knobbly surface, doom approaching me.

But it won’t approach for long, I freeze them, and pull out my hair braces, firing up the generation of hardened photons as they assault the hard stone bodies of the golems.

The beam instantly creates a rash of heat, and I hear the delightful crack of stone, unable to deal with the stresses of such a rapid change in temperature. The amber stones in their forehead crumble to dust as I hear a groan of pain escaping the broken stone.

I gasp my hands on my knees, as a crooked smile adorns my face, I wipe my face of the snot tears, and blood. And collapse releasing all the tension as I just give up on any movement at all.

—

I groggily rise still collapsed, an unresponsive body floating in the astral soup. I wave as hard as I can in order to get back to an upright position, as I examine my body for bruises, and breaks.

Those golems weren’t lightweights, in fact, the problem was that they were so massive. Their stone fists are heavy enough to be hard to carry much less take to the ribs.

Ugh, I hiss in pain as I breathe in. Invoking healing I aim the healing beam at my ribs, using the technique I learned with that ant.

I breathe a bit easier, feeling a cool rush as the pain is alleviated, I continue with my shitty healthcare pointing my good vibes at the particularly dangerous bruises, mostly focusing on the one nearby my liver.

But I can’t help much before I have to let the beam go. As I feel the glass in my mind approach full.

I wince and rub my shoulder, I’m not nearly patched up enough to get in another fight, but a smile crawls across my face, I’m definitely in enough health to get some loot!

So with my stiff arms, I push off the floor with my legs, and slowly doggie paddle my way into the next room. There was nothing stopping me from moving on but well who runs past deadly danger without getting stabbed in the back?

I drift into the room again gobsmacked by the audacity of the First Shaman. The entire room is a dazzling array of gold, and gems, racks upon racks of luxurious clothes dotting the room, the walls covered in shelves filled with trophies, bedazzled trophies. I squint just to make sure only to find that I’m right, the first Shaman put gems onto what seems to be a small trophy for getting second place at a strange spelling bee equivalent.

But that is nothing compared to the blinding light emanating from the center, the sight as if 1000 spotlights were pointed in one direction, highlighting the embossed cover of a book titled. ‘The Complete Story of the Captivating Life of the First Shaman’

“IMPRESSIVE ISN’T IT, MY INNER SANCTUM THAT HOLDS MY MOST PRIZED OF POSSESSIONS, EVERYTHING FROM TROPHIES TO DIPLOMATIC GIFTS, PIECES OF ART EARNED BY CONQUEST, AND ENOUGH POETRY ABOUT MY BEAUTIFUL FACE TO COVER A MAN HEAD TO TOE IN STONE.” The recorded voice of the First Shaman says. I am surprised by the buffoonery but at this point, I shouldn’t be. At every single point at which I believe he would reach his peak, he has broken his limits to hit new levels of pride.

“BUT THIS ROOM IS HERE FOR ONE THING MOST OF ALL, MY BIOGRAPHY THE DETAILED FIRST PERSON ACCOUNT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE, FROM BIRTH TO DEATH, FOR BABY HANDS DO NOT FAIL MY ART, AND DEATH CANNOT STOP ME!” The recording says with much enthusiasm, not echoed by me considering that I don't have much pizazz to summon for .

I throw my hands down, there’s not a thing of value in this entire demented place! It’s just a shrine to this dead guy who I only know from the loudest, and smuggest messages to ever exist.

I drift from place to place looking for something anything of value, yet finding nothing, not a speck of enchanted items in this damn idiotic museum to a man whose name faded from history.

In my frustration, I approach the center, the book placed in the middle highlighted with a spotlight.

At the very least I can take the biography with me, despite his egomania he did seem to be the best magician to exist amongst the people of this community.

And even if his book is ruinously biased I could always just unpeel what little facts it provides to slowly piece together at the very least the mind that produced it. So with a shrug, I grab the book off its pedestal and turn to leave but as I do so I am stopped by another echoed jolly voice.

“YOU KNOW NORMALLY GOLEMS AS LARGE AS THIS TEMPLE USE SO MUCH POWER THAT THEY CAN ONLY BE USED FOR SECONDS. BUT WHEN ONE HAS THE INFINITE ENERGY OF A TRAPPED FROMER GOD, YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED AT HOW MUCH POWER YOU CAN JAM INTO THESE THINGS. SO DIE FOR DARING TO TAKE MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSION!” the recording said as I heard the rumbling, and shaking of stone, and fell to the floor as the entire temple rises!

And with the message of doom, I hear the scrape of stone as the walls close in, trapping me in the belly of the beast.