66 – Darkness below

There they saw it, in the distance, the entrance to the tunnel system that snaked below the earth close to the Chasm itself. Like a lesser copy of the bigger chasm, the entrance was a gaping hole in the land a steep and dark plunge in the road leading to the Chasm proper, where they would meet in undisclosed depths. Nobody had managed to map those depths, and their impossible geometry was still as much of a puzzle as it had been when the first explorers had tried to come to terms with this natural yet unnatural feature of the world.

The road curved, going along the length of the canyon now, inching ever closer to it while descending down into the bowels of the earth. The spacious tunnel felt narrow and crap regardless of its side, and the darkness that extended forever past where the feeble light of the torches and magelights felt oppressive. Some would be prepared to swear that it was watching them, that it was aware. And malicious.

The silence was dotted by the steady—and unsteady—sound of steps. From afar, the reverberating echo of pickaxe strikes told the party the story of the lower economy of Semiluminal, made of brave or desperate people who dared stare the darkness in the face in the name of the riches the earth it enveloped hid. Where the miners worked, crystals lit the way, but the darkness was like a predator, staring at them from a safe distance, away from the warm glow of the lights, waiting. It had been here forever, much longer than any miner had, and it would still be here when the rest of the world fell and crumbled, still waiting for some unsuspecting prey to fall into its maw.

But, while patient, the darkness was not idle. It crept back, even while being bashed away by the lights, so that their range seemed to diminish in time, and nobody could tell whether it was indeed the case or if their minds and senses were playing tricks on them.

Ishrin’s magic vision was not faring much better. There were shadows in the darkness, like formless ghosts, elusive as he tried to focus on them. So shy they were, that he could not really see them beyond the fuzzy edges of his field of view, where the fake ghosts made of artifacts of vision and interpretation also liked to play their games of hide and seek.

The tunnel bifurcated again and again, now straight and now winding and narrow, soon becoming a system of confusing geometry that refused to be mapped even by Ishrin’s intellect, senses and Tier 5 spells. Perhaps a Tier 6 spell could punch through the darkness, revealing the true face of this place, but Ishrin was stuck at the peak of Tier 3, and he was not yet willing to push through the bottleneck for such petty gains. There was more to be gained by staying at his level and biding his time, consolidating his foundation so that he could build upon it better and faster in the future, and seeking materials for other ways to empower himself and his team.

It did not mean that he was utterly powerless. Where raw magic could not reach, rituals could always help. There was also a faint sensation of energy suffusing the place, calling to him, and it felt somewhat familiar and unnerving. Like a whisper in the wind, and he did not know whether he should listen to it, or stay away from a potential threat. Ignoring the strange energy, for the moment at least, Ishrin took out some stuff from his inventory to draw a ritual his team was already familiar with.

A word of power, and the water compass rose as a cylinder of water. The girls in the team recognized the ritual as the one Ishrin had used to find the circle of statues on the outskirts of Noctis for the strange quest that had eventually led them to the astral realm. Melina accepted the cylinder with a slight wince, but the expression vanished as soon as she realized that she was being watched by the team they were escorting, especially by Sir Westys. She did not like the face the boy was making, she decided as she went to lead the way in the unknown darkness, leaving him behind. Even though Ishrin and Lisette were with her, the way they walked meant that Lisette was in the middle of the group and Ishrin the last, watching the rear, with no familiar face shielding her from the boy’s gaze, who seemed to be undressing her with his eyes.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

That alone, would not have been a problem. He had been undressing her ever since he first saw her, but now he was also looking at her and the needle floating in the water with a glint to his eyes, and she could not help but shudder and hope the boy did not see the way her ears twitched, and her tail moved in erratic ways before she managed to stop it.

They walked with purpose, quickly reaching the more dangerous parts of the labyrinthine set of tunnels underneath the earth. Now the silence was barely a memory of the past, and the air was alive with calls of creatures and sounds of clanking machines—machines that were not supposed to exist, and that made the very walls thrum with their unnerving beat, while the monsters howled, hidden by the thick darkness.

Sir Westys took a moment to compose himself before speaking. He knew that he could not project power over the members of his escorting team who were more powerful than him, but it seemed that the single adventurer who was of a lesser tier than him still held some sway with the Tier 6 leader. Thus, Sir Westys approached Ishrin with authority born of a higher perceived status, and a good dose of fake bravery that was barely a thin disguise.

“You will let us fights the monsters ourselves and only intervene if necessary.” He said sternly.

Ishrin easily saw through the façade of bravery, but he could not help but be upset by the boy’s behavior. There was no need to play games here. He simply nodded.

Later, Sir Westys was in the process of explaining how—should the situation occur—he was the one to be saved first, reiterating that his companions were nothing more than meat shields. They could all hear it, even over the sounds of monsters, but the young noble did not care about how his lessers reacted to the information, which was cut short by the appearance of a Tier 4 monster.

Ishrin and his team had already been tracking the creature for a while, dropping into a fighting stance immediately as it lunged out of the darkness and into the ring of light surrounding the party. The escorted ones took longer, and of them all Sir Westys was the one to spot it first, deflecting its deadly claws with his sword with barely a moment to spare. Panting, he took the time to bark messy orders to the rest of his team, but not before directing a scowl to Ishrin who—in his mind—had forced him to protect himself in a very unbecoming way.

Then, sweat making his blonde hair stick to his face, he spurred his stunned teammates to action.

“Tom, go the front, dammit!”

The boy did so. His arms were shaking, but his leader did not care. From behind, Sir Westys directed the other two—Rory and Morin—to their positions. It was slow, messy work, only possible because the monster had chosen to circle around them to study its prey rather than lunge again, buying them time.

Ishrin shook his head, and with a single glance he knew that his two teammates were thinking similar things as he was. Sir Westys was woefully unprepared to become an adventurer, and his party members were even worse than he was. Had two powerful Tier 6 presences not been there to deter the monster from attacking right away, they would have already suffered great losses, making their victory an almost impossible affair.

Neither of the three more experienced adventurers said anything. Sir Westys brandished his sword, changing his grip on it as the ornate weapon began to glow with power.

Then the creature leapt. Finally in the light, its features were those of a rabid dog, covered in sleek and wet skin that made his pulsing organs visible to the naked eye. Its powerful muscles coiled and it jumped, propelled by the mutated fibers pushing on light and deadly bones, claws out ready to kill, but was met with Tom’s large shield and stopped dead in its tracks.

Sir Westys whooped from behind, getting ready to strike, but it did not escape keener eyes than his that Tom was dazed, and would not be able to take another hit like that, and his arm was hurting enough to make his grip on his shield falter. But an imperceptible hand sign from Ishrin stayed his teammates, content to see the battle unfold.