Before he knew it, Glade had squeezed through the narrow opening and stumbled into what could best be described as the ruins of an ancient throne room.
Granite walls dusted with snow and darkened with age stretched before him, illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through a partially collapsed roof. Rubble was strewn about haphazardly, piled as only nature could orchestrate. Several pillars, the same color as the walls, lined the outside edges of the ruins, holding what was left of the roof in place.
The wind moaned through the hall, its unseen blades of ice scrubbing away the residual darkness that had settled in his soul.
Glade breathed it all in, his tattered uniform useless against the freezing temperatures, but that too felt like he was being cleansed from the days trapped within the dark tunnels.
“It’s like we walked right into the great hall at Hogwarts!” Kedryn laughed, stumbling up beside him. “Even the ceiling is partially see through.”
Glade gave him a questioning look.
“Oh, come on!” Kedryn complained. “You’ve at least read or seen Harry Potter, haven’t you?”
Glade gave a non-committal shrug and turned back to inspecting the room.
“I swear, you’re not even human,” Kedryn muttered.
“Oi! He’s found a way out!” Bragden yelled, struggling in vain to maneuver his barrel-chested body through the narrow opening.
“Move out o’ the way!” Krazzik’s muffled voice carried over the cold breeze. “I swear, if’n we get stuck because of yer fat arse, I’m going to put me foot so far up yer backside I’ll be picking yer teeth from the soles of me boot!”
Glade laughed as he caught a glimpse of the one-armed dwarf struggling to pull Bragden from the tight space. It was obvious the dwarves wouldn’t fit. They would have to find something to pry the door open with.
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“Corporal, see if you can help figure out how to help those two,” he gestured toward the struggling dwarves, “I’m going to scout around.”
Without waiting for a response, Glade climbed to the top of the closest pile of debris and snow. The hall itself was roughly the size of a basketball court, the remains of a vaulted ceiling partially strewn across the floor.
Weathered statues, broken and buried beneath rock and drifts of snow, could be seen littering the hall. The exit was entirely covered by rubble, but there were enough large openings in the far wall that made access to the outside easy enough.
The passage they had just exited from placed them at the far end of the court, giving him a firsthand look at the remains of a once grand hall.
An involuntary shiver ran through Glade as his misty breath was swept away from the biting wind blowing through the ruins.
With the thrill of discovery winding down, Glade turned his mind toward more practical matters. Like survival.
Anyone could endure most environments, as long they had proper planning and equipment. Both of which they were woefully short of.
Glade used his spear to help stabilize his footing as he made his way toward one of the openings in the wall.
A blanket of pristine snow several feet deep covered the area. He could barely make out more snow-covered ruins, with a line of large pine trees just on the other side. Mountain peaks, so tall they looked as if they speared the heavens, completed the backdrop.
At long last, a smile broke through Glade’s normally reserved face. If they had ready access to a forest, they might just have a chance. They would have fuel for fire, pine boughs could be used to create shelter and insulation, the roar of a water fall nearby indicated a water source, and where there was a forest there were animals to hunt.
For the first time since arriving on Veil, Glade felt real hope. As long as there weren’t any crazy monsters lurking nearby, they had a real shot.
Glade turned around, ready to inform the others, when he saw something that stopped him in his tracks.
A massive throne carved out of the very mountain stood a stone’s throw away from the secret entrance. Lines of polished white crystal ran from the ceiling through the granite edifice, spilling into the floor like rivulets of frozen water. The throne stood flush against the mountain, easily blending into the opaque striations of granite and crystal, melding seamlessly into the smooth walls.
As incredible a marvel as the throne was, what drew Glade’s attention was the thing sitting on it. A statue so large it made the throne it was sitting on look small. The figure was in the rough shape of a humanoid, made entirely of black marble with a singular blue stone nestled in the center of its head.
And it was staring straight at Kedryn.