Chapter 16: Murder Feet Mystery

Tumbling through the dark, Riley screamed, “We’re gonna die!”

Tobias’ heart leapt up in his throat, beating like a caged hummingbird.

The world inverted and spun like a top reaching terminal velocity until it all came to a sudden stop.

There was no sense of impact or motion, simply the righting of reality.

A prompt flared to life as light drew upon the world like a moving scene fading in.

Do you like this realm? Thanks! It has pockets! You have entered a place of sanctuary, a pocket reality within Venosimoor sustained by an ancient and noble sacrifice.

The restrictions on your magic have been lifted. Be warned upon exiting this space, you may not be able to return.

They found themselves in a cellar-like room with Roman-style arched ceilings that formed graceful curves. The stone was smooth and heavy; high up, on either side, were backlit stained glass windows depicting scenes from the life of a hero and his companion, a human, and a hawk.

A black obsidian torc was around both of their necks, and a Greyblade sword that sparkled in the light like Tobias’ own was in his hand in each scene as he charged into battle against the fae and humans alike. The man was of tall and stocky build with broad shoulders. A dark black beard, short-cropped, covered his face. Fierce blue eyes stared out with a kind of painful longing.

A black cloak hung down from his broad shoulders, and an etheril, laminar cuirass, covered his chest and torso. Mail greaves and heavy black boots granted him the look of a noble warrior.

Perched upon his arm, staring out with a fierce determination, was a red-tailed hawk.

Tobias shakily pushed himself up from the floor as his eyes went wide on a rose window set in the back.

“Fifteen Gods?” His head cocked in confusion to the right, much like Riley’s, as she pulled herself up on weary paws.

“Galdor isn’t in the center,” Riley’s head fell to a right side scan as she sat up on her hindpaws, “And I really need a bath.”

An oily black liquid left the white parts of her fur a dingy gray. Looking up towards Tobias, she choked back a giggle.

“You look like a 16-year-old that just discovered hair gel!” The giggles danced merrily across their bond as Tobias nodded, fully distracted by the rose window.

Galdor is on the left, holding his crystal torc. I have no idea who is opposite to him. The God in the center... Dead God? He’s holding scales. What does that mean?

“You don’t know?” Riley asked, knowing he didn’t.

“I don’t, but this has to be ancient, from before the Ashen War. It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” he replied, still staring.

“Is this more forbidden history, things they tried to erase, along with the printing presses, you think?” She pondered.

“It seems obvious that it is so. Huh...” he scratched through his hair before shaking off a layer of the oily residue. “We both are in need of washing.”

Riley pressed up against his legs, “Are you ok? That was a lot.”

“Infernals already conquered still rest uneasily, but they rest. I know who I am. That’s kind of the whole problem,” he smiled devilishly.

“Black blades, through and through,” Riley echoed.

Tobias touched his obsidian torc, “I wasn’t the only one put through a mental ringer.”

“It was helpful, I think. It was like a malevolent therapist beating a point into me. I’m fine,” Riley gestured with her forepaws after rising up on her back legs.

“Uh, huh,” Tobias’ tone dripped with all the intonation of someone calling bull shit.

“So what the heck is going on? Why does it smell like the incense at the cathedral?” Riley scanned around as she felt the familiar warm glow of calarian magic surround her and quickly changed the subject.

Tobias sighed and shook his head.

“Wait a minute. His sword looks just like mine. Near identical!” Tobias felt the hairs of his arm stand on end while Riley’s ears shot up in surprise.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have the cheap copy look that Ecbert’s has. So this has to be from the Ashen War, but does that mean the last outlander was a hawk? Why does that offend me?” She grumbled, coming face to face with her own prejudices.

Tobias grinned, reveling in the moment of peace they had found, “Well, it kind of stands to reason you’d be biased.”

“Against being eaten? Ya don’t say? Hawks... with their damn murder feet and mean looks and... No, no, it’s fineee,” she said, dragging out her words.

“Like I said, it stands to reason,” Tobias echoed with a shrug, “I don’t think I like them any better after Mavora.”

“Ok, on task. Let’s do a heal. We shouldn’t waste this opportunity. We get fresh, we get our heads on straight, and we strategize. Then we figure out what to do next,” he closed his eyes, taking a larger breath as he sat centered before the rose window.

Riley could feel the calming effects of focused meditation ripple across their connection as she pulled out all the kinks in her back, stretching out, forepaw over forepaw. As tight muscles gave way, she took her own centering breath and sighed.

The stone felt smooth but not slick under paw and radiated with a gentle warmth that only caused it to feel more welcoming, standing out in stark contrast to the freezing room they had just left.

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

“I don’t see any other way out except back the way we came, and forget that,” Riley scoffed.

“Agreed. It feels like we’re underground now, and the light coming from behind those windows is the same kind of blue that comes from crystal torches. It’s like we’re in a little pocket of Calaria,” Tobias scrutinized the details, but it was all so familiar as to be bizarre.

“It’s like the castle, or Valenheim academy, or anywhere really, ancient, monolithic, but undeniably Calarian,” Riley hopped over towards him and sprawled across his lap.

Tobias let his left hand droop over her midsection as he finally sat down his sword and took a deeper breath.

A hazy exhaustion fell over the both of them like a warm blanket.

“Wha?” Tobias’ eyes opened on the unchanged room as if it were frozen in time.

Eyeing their health bars, they seemed mostly full; the red box with a line over their mana bar was gone, and their stamina bar was fully recharged.

“Riley?” Tobias prompted.

The hare groaned, “Comfy. Five more minutes.”

Gently, he began stroking her head to tail until he heard her breathing deepen. Next, he called forth his blanket from their inventory space and set it down gently next to him, transferring the sleeping Riley over.

A plaintive grumble rose from her muzzle before she curled on her side and again found her rest.

“This isn’t just a coincidence. There’s a reason for this. I don’t get it. Someone helped us escape,” he paced quietly, being careful not to disturb his companion.

“Unless this is a trap, too. Still, we’re not going back. There’s no point going back,” he said, talking to himself, strategizing, “But there’s no going forward, no obvious doors, and no clues that I can see.”

Starting at one end of the room, he began to methodically knock on stones or look for seams, but the walls were as pure and seamless as the ones in Timbergarde. All had the feeling of being created perfectly as they were, with no joint or mortar.

After a half hour of scrutiny and a futile attempt to pry up a floor stone with his dagger, he ended up centered before the lectern.

Tobias rubbed his chin. “It’s the only thing here besides the door and those windows.”

Craning his head, there didn’t seem to be any point in breaking them. Cocking his head at the right angle, he could see the blue crystal sheet glowing behind them.

“So that’s not an exit, and there are no switches I’ve found so far,” with a sigh, he strode up to the lectern and tried to move it, only to find it secured to the floor.

“Huh...” He ran his hand over the top of the wood. Instead of being smooth, there was an indentation, as if it was made to hold a book.

Recessed within it was the symbol of the House of Astor.

“Chadrick’s house. Could he be an ancestor? They’re part of the royal line going back to the Ashen Wars...Huh... Riley, wake up. I’m about to try something, and I need you,” Tobias called.

“Don’t wanna, comfy,” she whined; all the while, her ears perked up, swiveling in his direction before her eyes snapped open.

“Going to give me a sermon?” She joked.

“No, just playing a guess,” Tobias replied.

The book from Astor Hall appeared in his hands.

“But there was nothing in it but a weird diagram? It’s all blank pages, ” Riley cocked her head in confusion.

“I know, but it seems like an eerie coincidence. We found it in Astor Hall; it’s an ancient book that goes back to the Ashen Wars, and what’s more, it looks like it’s going to fit,” Tobias shared a look of curiosity and concern with Riley as he held the book above the space, holding his breath.

“Who uses a book as a key?” Riley scoffed.

“Be ready,” Tobias replied, letting the book rest as a bright flash and the sound of glass shattering filled the room just as a prompt flared to life.

You have completed a ritual and activated a hidden magical effect.

A complex magical diagram, once hidden, glowed to life in white light etched into the stone floor, with light from the crystals behind the windows illuminating down upon it.

A hawk cry drifted distantly as if on the wind, as the shadowy visage of a bird of prey with glowing red eyes appeared only to phase out of existence, as if pulsing in and out of reality, until finally resolving to the ghostly specter of a red-tailed hawk, the spirit of a broad-shouldered man, in a black cloak, still holding a grey sword appeared beside Tobias.

“Get back!” Tobias shouted as his Greyblade appeared in his hands.

“Go time!” Riley shouted as the ghostly man walked past them both as if they weren’t there.

“Utred? Is it finally over? Have we finally found our peace?” Mavora said, fanning her wings wide and pressing tightly to him.

“What was foretold has finally come to pass. You are redeemed, and I am fully awakened. Tell me, friends, and speak true, how long has it been since the war of Ashes?” Utred asked.

In an instant, Tobias firmed his defensive stance, holding his sword at the ready, summoning Riley’s celestial fire to the blade.

Riley dashed to his side as seeds scattered upon the ground while an orb of celestial fire glowed between her paws.

“Riley and Tobias, peace! We beg of you peace! We’ve been waiting for you to set us free,” Utred cried, holding up his hands.

“Bull shit. Mavora tried to murder us!” Riley sneered.

“I did. I had to fall to deny him his victory and, in so doing, lost my reason and myself. I became enslaved for my sacrifice. He intended the same fate for you, but you slipped Venosicipher’s snare. I swear by my eternal spirit, my magic, and whatever honor I have left that I mean you no harm, but if that is not enough...” Mavora pulled herself from Utred and flattened herself on the floor as if awaiting final judgment.

“End me, grant me true death. What you see manifested is the last bits of me. I am a shadow of a shadow, my soul a flickering candle. If you wish to snuff the last bit of flame of my once sacred essence, it is only what I deserve. Your celestial fire will do the work.”

“Please, I beg of you, son, do not do this,” Utred went down on one knee, “Show mercy; allow us the chance to explain.”

“Riley?” Tobias asked.

“She's not trying to kill us at the moment. I can be reasonable. Cue the expositing narrator,” Riley sighed.