Lorelai

King Knos strode at the head of their small party, Daelen behind him, massive body blocking the king from view, then Lorelai came in at the rear. They walked wordlessly, their hollow footsteps the only sound in the tall, empty hallways.

Perhaps this was the moment Knos would reveal whatever secret he’d been withholding from Lorelai. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Nonetheless, a feeling of excitement tickled within her. She couldn’t help it. Secrets were interesting. Exciting. No matter how dark the secret, there was this unique sense of power and control in knowing things about people and the world. A power that she scarcely felt in anything else.

Secrets like knowing that Daelen’s son being a drunken brawler, practically living in the streets near the docks, life wasting away. And Daelen knew she knew. It made him uneasy whenever they made eye contact.

There was more power out there. More secrets. And Lorelai could scarcely resist. This is what drew her to the king. She always knew he was hiding things. His obsession with building his manor was all part of his ruse. In truth, he was deeply ingrained in the goings on of Avskild.

As Knos led them further up Tower of Tarn’s stairways, she knew she’d finally learn what he’d been up to.

Working her way into a position as the king’s attendant had been rigorous. It required determination, wit, a bit of finesse, and of course, secrets. The king understood the good value of a bit of hidden knowledge. Lorelai was not born into a poor family, nor a wealthy one, but she had obtained certain skills. She could hide, she could sneak, and most important of all, she could listen. And the king loved secrets. She’d actually worked a little under the militia watch for a while, though she doubted Captain Mikel Vigsen even knew her name until she worked her way up to a watch leader after preventing a couple robberies and finding the culprit for another.

That was when she had opportunities to get into Tower of Tarn a few times. She took every chance to cross paths with the king until he finally spoke to her. Without any hesitation, she told him one of her secrets she’d been saving just for such an occasion: his cousin had pilfered the burial mound of their grandfather. It was something she’d discovered while staying up at night, prowling the rooftops as she sometimes did. But she’d saved this secret just for him. She didn’t want anybody else trying to take credit for her work. She’d been under his direct employ ever since.

It was because of her that the king knew Mikel would secretly send Grimnirs to each of the portals. It was her suggestion that had prevented the king from stopping Mikel. Not only would such an action have damaged the loyalty and confidence of his guard, but giving them the order himself would have made him seem more concerned than he should have been.

Even still, the guard questioned him. They doubted his ability to protect Avskild. She’d seen it in their looks earlier. She hoped it was unfounded. She wanted to believe that King Knos knew what he was doing.

They ascended another set of stairs to the sixth floor. This triggered Lorelai’s curiosity the most. There were no guards this high up. No residents. There was no function to this space. The rooms were all but empty, save for a few pieces of old furniture that were covered with pale sheets. Light spilled in from high high windows, illuminating specks of dust that drifted through the air. It smelled old. Ancient.

This building had stood longer than the entire Grimnir legacy.

“Are you sure about Lorelai, my king?” Daelen asked.

Lorelai held back a huff.

“We will know shortly,” Knos said. “How old are you again, Lorelai?”

Lorelai pursed her lips. She had never told the king her age. Intentionally. But she saw no reason to lie now. “Twenty-three.”

Knos looked back at her with renewed interest. “And here I thought you were my age at thirty. You’re too keen for twenty-three, Lorelai. Perhaps that’s reason enough.” They stopped inside a small, dark room. There were no windows. Only the light of the open door illuminated the space.

Knos pulled away an old rug that covered a few torches. He selected one and nodded at the door. Daelen closed the door behind them just after Knos lit the torch.

“Tower of Tarn is ancient, Lorelai,” Knos said. “Much older than we know. It’s rumored that the building was constructed by magic rather than by physical means, magic that is not accessible to Grimnirs. Some architects who have studied it have documented suspicions that there were lower levels to the tower, but after scouring the bottom floor, they could never find anything. Not even a secret entrance. When I analyzed their findings, the only curiosity I couldn’t explain were some strange thick spaces on the upper floors.”

Knos paused as if for dramatic effect before holding the now-burning torch to the stone near the bottom of the far wall. “I looked all around them. The only place I found anything interesting was here. On the sixth floor. The stone is a little blacker here.”

To Lorelai’s utter surprise, the flames seemed to trickle into the bricks. Orange light flowed around, tracing the outline of each brick. Soundlessly, the bricks began to slide back on both the wall and some of the floor. They formed a gaping, sloped hole that descended further.

“Fire was the key,” Knos said, stepping into the darkness beyond. “Come.”

Daelen handed Lorelai an unlit torch, his expression stern. He held his own, also unlit, and followed after the king.

Lorelai gulped and hurried down after them. She quickly discovered that it was a rounded staircase. It was chilly. Tendrils of thick air seemed to coalesce against her exposed skin. When she glanced back, the entrance was simply gone, and all she saw was blackness. She kept her face forward and stayed close to the light offered by the king’s torch.

Knos’s voice easily carried up the stairs. “I found this place eight years ago, when I was just younger than you. I almost got stuck the first time I ventured in because I wasn’t sure how far down the stairs extended. I have since measured it, and based on my findings, I would say it extends well beneath the ground.”

Indeed the steps kept going. If the stairs went below ground, and they only started on the sixth floor up, that meant they had several floors to descend. This was certainly a big secret. One she hadn’t anticipated. But the real question remained. What was down there? What would she find at the bottom of an ancient building around which the portal nation of Avskild had built their entire society? The king’s excitement was growing the more he shared. She could only imagine that he’d kept this secret pent up for so long, sharing it only with Daelen, who may as well have been a moving pile of rocks for all the personality he offered.

“You’ve made an amazing discovery, My King,” Lorelai said. “I’m surprised you’ve kept it to yourself this whole time.”

“Necessity,” Knos said. “You will see when we reach the bottom. The interesting thing about this staircase is that it extends far enough below ground that there’s probably another floor between the first floor and this one, but I have found no way to locate an entrance between them. Nor have I found anything that might go any deeper, but perhaps it is not necessary.”

More questions boiled through Lorelai’s mind. This was all rather intricate. Why go through the trouble of designing an entire building this way? A staircase that connected only two floors from the sixth to the… negative second? It was bizarre to say the least, and being made of stone meant that it was very unmistakably intentional.

The original creators of this place had been trying to hide something.

They continued to descend until Knos stopped before a stone wall. “This part was a lot easier to figure out. Massive staircases don’t lead to stone walls, so I figured there must have been another key of some kind.” His torch hovered over a reddened stone on the last step. He withdrew an elaborate dagger with an ivory handle and jagged edges. He pricked his finger on one of the jagged parts and then squeezed some of his blood onto the reddened stone.

It reacted in a similar way. A red, glowing color surrounded the brick and then spread across the others. This time, the bricks folded in on themselves, revealing an open passageway ahead.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Lorelai shielded her eyes against the surprising amount of light that emanated from within. Knos proceeded inside without any hesitation.

“No turning back now,” Daelen muttered to Lorelai.

Lorelai set her jaw and gripped the unlit torch in her hand tightly as she followed after the king. The light inside came from glowing spheres encased in metal wiring, caged against the high ceiling. The room was relatively small compared with many of the rooms in the tower, but it was still larger than her entire home. A single stone table jutted from one of the far walls, an assortment of strange instruments laid out across it. Other than that, the only other thing in the room was a curved arch that rose all the way to the ceiling and back down. Its smooth surface made it look like it was carved from a dull metal, but it glowed with a faint orange light.

It was a portal. The rumors about a portal hidden within Tower of Tarn were true.

But the burning question remained. What had King Knos done to secure the defense of Avskild? She doubted it could get much worse than murdering every Voyager.

The magical door through which they’d entered remained open. She wondered how long it would last and if they’d have to use blood again to get back out.

Knos withdrew an ornate dagger from within his fur-lined robe, different from the dagger he’d pulled out before. Lorelai had never seen the weapon before. The handle looked like several, twisting, knotted cords, and the pommel was a depiction of a brass serpent’s head. The blade itself looked like it was carved from ebony, and there were golden symbols that almost glowed along the middle of the otherwise black surface. Two yellow gemstones were on either side of the crossguard.

“Surtera!” Knos cried. He pounded his free hand against the side of the portal.

To Lorelai’s astonishment, a black mist boiled up from the bottom of the portal. Instead of spilling outward, it continued to climb up until it reached the top of the portal, filling its entire shimmering surface. The mist coalesced as though scratching at some unseen barrier that prevented it from leaving the portal.

“He will arrive shortly,” Knos said, looking back at Lorelai. He held the dagger up for her inspection. “When I first entered this room, this dagger was the only thing on the floor, just sitting there in front of the portal.” He gestured to a place in front of the portal where scratches scarred the stone floor. The scratches did not seem random, but they almost seemed to form a symbol.

“It says Surtera’s name,” Knos said, answering Lorelai’s unasked question.

When Lorelai tried to discern any words from the scratches, nothing came to mind. Perhaps it was not in their language.

Knos pointed at the word again. “When I came in here, I picked up the dagger and read the name. Then the mist appeared and… well. Surtera appeared.”

Lorelai looked back at the swirling black mist. This was not right. The portal shouldn’t have been working to begin with, and yet Knos seemed to have no trepidation about it whatsoever. “Is this… dangerous?”

“No,” Knos said with a smirk. “As you can see, the portal is sealed.”

“If it was sealed, it wouldn’t be reacting at all,” Lorelai said. She could have sworn she’d heard of something like that. A sealed portal wouldn’t be glowing. The magic was active—certainly that was a reasonable conclusion.

“And yet.” Knos shrugged. “Nothing escapes. The magic here within the tower is powerful. I think the tower itself is fueling this portal rather than some outside source.”

Lorelai was still skeptical, but she did not have time to voice her thoughts.

A sound seeped into the room, like a massive giant yawning after a long nap. The mist in the portal roiled as if blown by a strong wind. “Ah,” the voice said. It was a deep, male voice, almost seductive in a way. A hand grayish-violet in hue, pressed against the invisible barrier. “King Knos. How may I serve?”

Whatever the voice belonged to, it was certainly not human. And the hand was large enough that it could have belonged to a being much larger than herself. Possibly a troll.

“Surtera!” Knos snapped. His change in tone was violent. “Trolls have entered Avskild through Vanalf, a portal has been destroyed, and several other portals are completely malfunctioning. Monsters are seeping in. You assured me this would not happen!”

“Mmm,” Surtera replied, its voice a deep rumble, coming out as if Knos’s words brought it pleasure. “You had not returned the dagger. The shield requires power.” There was a pause as Surtera inhaled deeply as if sniffing.

“All the Voyagers are dead,” Knos said. “I’ve brought you their power. Last time, you said it would be enough.”

“All of them,” Surtera said slowly as if savoring the words, “dead?”

Nature’s rays. By all the demons of creation, what had Knos done? Lorelai’s mind reeled. Knos had not simply been murdering the Voyagers, but he’d somehow been capturing their power and turning it over to this… creature.

“Yes! Just as required,” Knos screamed.

The light around the portal pulsed and flickered. Lorelai thought she could see the faint image of a face appearing through the mist, dark orange eyes flickering like flames. Four eyes, not just two.

Knos flailed his arms for effect. “I killed them all myself. Stabbed with the Dris, just like the others. What went wrong?”

Mist coiled at the king’s feet, but he didn’t seem to notice. The orange light within the structure of the portal pulsed more brightly, while the glowing magical spheres in the ceiling grew dim.

“Daelen,” Lorelai hissed as her eyes widened.

Daelen saw it as well, ripping his sword free of its sheath. He lunged forward, sword arcing toward the mist. “My king!” Daelen shouted in warning.

Knos gasped as he looked down, just as the mist coiled around his ankle. He jerked back, but the mist had locked onto him like an iron clasp. It pulled him toward the portal, directly into the path of Daelen’s swinging sword. Originally intended to sever the mist, Daelen’s sword hacked into Knos’s shin.

Knos screamed and nearly fell to his back, but another coil of mist clamped around his wrist where he held the dagger, Dris.

“Mmmm,” Surtera’s voice hummed. “You have done your job well, King Knos.”

After recovering from the shock of hacking at Knos’s leg, Daelen continued to strike at the mist with his blade as Knos struggled to pull himself back. The sword had little effect on the mist, like the equivalent of blowing fog away with his own lips.

Lorelai had seen all that she needed. If she had to guess, the monster communicating with them was some type of demon, though how it manipulated the dark mist was beyond her. She had no magic to aid them.

The dagger, Dris, clattered to the floor beside the king as he cried out in pain. She faintly heard the sound of crunching bones.

“Curse you, Surtera!” Knos yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.

Another misty hand stretched out toward the dagger.

If what Lorelai had just heard was true, that dagger could hold a Grimnir’s power. Just a tool did not belong in the hands of a demon. Steeling herself, she scrambled forward and snatched Dris away just before the hand of mist reached it, her hand smacking against the bloodied stone. She hurried away before the mist could latch onto her, rushing back toward the entrance.

“Lorelai!” Daelen shouted, still somehow convinced that hacking at the mist would make any difference. “You can’t leave us here.” His stopped speaking a loud roar as another misty tendril latched onto his shoulder.

She had to get out of here. This place was kept a secret on purpose. Perhaps it was a prison. Wherever this portal connected, it had been sealed off for good reason. She dropped the tip of her torch to the king’s, which had been dropped to the floor, then she sprinted over to the exit. The door had resealed soundlessly behind them, but she found the reddened stone, similar to the one on the other side. The king’s blood was still wet on her hand where she’d touched it, so she put her hand down, wiping the blood on the stone. It reacted just as it had before, and the bricks began to fold.

“Lorelai!” Knos screamed at her. When she glanced back, both the king’s legs had been dragged into the portal, the rest of his body thrashing around to free himself. Daelen was completely gone. Only his sword remained, left on the floor.

Lorelai tucked the dagger away and started climbing the stairs. She had a long way to go and wasn’t about to wait around to see if the demon could pursue after her. The king was as good as dead. There was nothing she’d be able to do to save him. Daelen as well. If he’d passed through the portal completely, then he’d have a lot worse than mist to deal with. And without even his sword… she forced away the thought. All she could do was keep climbing, the men’s screams haunting her as she panted, climbing higher and higher through the dark, winding staircase.

Her body trembled, from fear or excitement, she didn’t know. She had to slow her pace, too exhausted to keep going so fast. The only sound was her own steps, her heavy breathing, and the soft whoosh of her torch burning.

After ages of climbing, she reached a wall. She dragged the torch all across the surface, unable to discern where the torch should be placed. Her movements were frantic, breathing still heavy. At last, an orange glow reacted to the torch’s fire, and the hidden door swung open. She stumbled out, relief flooding her. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but she placed the torch’s fire against the burn mark on the outside. Thankfully, the magic reacted again, and the door closed behind her.

She stumbled out into the hall, dropping the still-burning torch to the stone floor. She rested her back against the wall and slid down, slumping until her head came down against her knees. It took a long while before her breath stopped coming in deep, heaving gasps. Her fingers still quivered.

So this had been the king’s brilliant plan. Kill all the Voyagers, seal their power into some cursed weapon, then take the weapon to a demon. The demon must have promised to use the energy to seal the portals. It was likely doing the exact opposite. How had the king been so foolish? His uncanny ability to read the scratched out word on the floor was indicative of something strange. Perhaps he’d been manipulated.

If the portals were compromised, what would stop the demon from completely coming through the portal? Would it even be hard for it to figure out how to open the hidden doors? It could come out directly inside Tower of Tarn and ravage the entire guard if they were unprepared.

Whatever the case, one thing was certain. She shook her head, fighting back the pain that rose in her throat.

Avskild was doomed.