Day 33
John Harken
The Sixty marched. Fifty two aimed for the top while eight kept their rear safe. One step after another they moved in an unhalting rhythm. A look of determination on every face. Faith radiated from every swing of the arm. All their eyes were imbued with a flame of confidence. They moved as one. Harken took in the aura of conviction and smiled. Each awoke alone, but now all were bound together in common purpose
There is nothing more beautiful, beamed Harken. Community is a slice of heaven.
No trumpets nor banners, but it felt like a parade. A celebration without triumph, yet a victory all the same. They marched up the tunnels knowing the trials and tribulations to come. Great was the monster above, with only the plans of the Council to guide them through it. Faith was strong though disaster was a thin margin away. All this and the Sixty continued upwards. Signaling their courage with every stride.
Harken rejoiced at the unity that had formed both naturally and by design. Seeing it shining brightly before him was wondrous. Like a child taking their first steps. More observer than a participant, he had watched it grow from the shadows. From dozens of voices to several leading and now one unified purpose.
Such a wondrous thing, purpose, reflected the priestly man. It ignites and uplifts the soul. Grants you the strength to endure and the encouragement to rise up after a fall. The Pit is a place of torment, but one that directs your eyes upwards. Invigorates you to be better. A burdensome gift to narrow the world.
He knew that many thought of him as a mad man. That his faith in this place was reckless. It was familiar enough to be barely a bother. To Harken, it was just an extension of how his scholarly pursuits had been viewed. The academic world has showered praise, but the people of the world found his obsession perplexing. The unreligious saw it as a waste of time and the religious often declared his findings blasphemous. Those opinions had slowed the priestly man, so these new ones weren’t even a concern. His search for the divine in hallowed words had led him to the simple conclusion that the world was mad and that he was madder still to seek order/reason from it.
I searched for truth in the words of mad prophets, Harken recited to himself, feeling like he was quoting something that was completely lost from his thoughts. I can only hope that if I am mad too, that my words are true.
Despite their concerns, he was respected. It was touching that such a menagerie of personalities respected his good opinion. This too, he thought, was one of the miracles of The Pit. That such divergent people could find harmony with each other. There were frictions, but much less than would be expected from a random selection of any populace. Humanity was a hard being to organize and predict. Like many things of this wondrous place, it spoke of intelligent design. An incredibly detailed one. Harken often found himself in awe of the little things of this place. The Sixty were very well taken care of for people trapped underground.
In his heart, the priestly man felt they were blessed to even be here. There were downsides he couldn’t deny. Life here was a struggle. Death shadowed everything. All of it seemed a small price to him for what Mana offered. Harken saw that only Damian had begun to glimpse the potential infinite placed in their hands. Magic had no limit, only limitations of the caster. A person, their mind, would always be narrowed by their individual persona. The nature and nurture that defined their worldview. Sixty people were blessed and so sixty infinities existed among them.
And Mana was just the beginning of the favor shown to them. That power was ultimately just a tool for the true Purpose. The Pit was a place of trial. A guiding gauntlet. For this, Harken believed no one had an inkling of what was to come. Not the foggiest of what grand plans had been formulated for the Sixty.
Understandably, they focused on the mundane issues at hand and worked to establish order to this perceived nightmare. The Sixty were concerned only with the basic goal to rise. Applaudable and necessary, but limited. Most, even those on the Council, had completely forgotten those thunderous words, “YOU ARE HERE FOR A PURPOSE.” Saw them, but didn’t see or think about them. The priestly man did not forget. He meditated daily on the meaning. Searching the aether for inspiration.
They think me mad to praise the Purpose, mused Harken. I call them blind to not see the benevolence of our experience. We live in the lap of luxury with the only price to be the pursuit of the Purpose. A pursuit that doubly rewards the Sixty. Cores for our wants and needs, but also an act of strengthening. One hundred floors, one hundred trials to complete. We have come to the final act of the first level, do they not see what we have already gained in just one trial? I preach benevolence because a power beyond our imagining has granted us this opportunity for a boundless existence. Freedom from the finite. We are blessed. Truly and utterly blessed to be here.
I wish more of them saw it that way.
He looked at those marching around him. Faces of determination, but in the vein of someone about to endure something terrible. The Sixty didn’t have a speck of elation that they were fulfilling the will of the Commandments. There was faith that the titan would fall, but none considered the Purpose. Their minds were focused on escape or fun. They missed today for the pursuit of tomorrow. Harken wondered if he would always venerate The Pit alone.
“I can see the strain of thought on your face, what has you so turned inwards?” asked Roseline, a touch of humor in her voice. In the shadow of the hood was a crescent smile.
Harken smiled in answer, though he didn’t see the joke in her words. That she had joined at all was a surprise, even though the priestly man was one to offer. A question asked more in politeness than anything. The moon-eyed woman had never gone into the tunnels before. He wondered what had changed. “I am considering how the Sixty views The Pit,” he explained when she gestured for him to explain.”
Roseline frowned, “Mourning it seems to me. Though, it is easy to guess that with a face like yours. Made for talks of dark clouds and ravens… Why does our opinion leave you in gloom? Around me, I see more to celebrate than anything else. Nothing worth grieving for.”
“I am proud of them,” offered the priestly man. “It is my pride too. We have faced the extraordinary, and excelled. There is nothing there to be dissatisfied with. What I find lacking is how little we reflect on the goodness of this place. We are offered so much… yet the feeling is we are damned. No one sees the wonders here. It disturbs me how much that shocks me. When did I become the one asking for others to believe?”
“What do you mean?” asked Roseline. Confusion crossed the moon-eyed woman’s face as her eyes twitched upwards. “I don’t understand. Do you feel like you're wrong to believe?”
Now it was a cold, brittle smile on Harken’s face. “I feel I should be laughing at myself. Before here, I was a scholar of religion. Studied them all, seeking through the thousand wisdoms and terrors prescribed by the gods. It led to the most predictable of places… disdain for the faithful. Zealots gained the full force of my contempt as well. Now I am the zealous faithful condemning the supposedly blind. I feel like a hypocrite and a scourge”
A husky laugh was her first response and it soured Harken’s mood further. The crescent smile was back as Roseline spoke. “I’m sorry, is it not funny the things we humans get so wrapped up in? The worries that good people torture themselves with. I mean look at yourself Harken, no one could ever doubt your good intentions even if they disagree. You fear in yourself the worst that religion has done, but won’t acknowledge that such monstrous actions are beyond you. Too much the shepherd in my eyes. A long and wide view do I have.”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“What is it that you see for me?” asked Harken in a whisper. “Does my faith spread? Does it prove worthwhile?”
Roseline turned away so that there was only the hood to see. Her voice took on a strange distant tone. “Be careful what questions you ask me. Knowing too much isn’t always pleasant… I can’t always answer either. The future is fragile until the present becomes the solidified past. The further ahead I look the fogger it gets until the possibilities are lost in the snarl.
“For you, what I see is the straight path that you always walk. As a man of strict principles, your thread barely wavers unless another acts upon it. Makes being around you more pleasant than the others. You’re a steadiness in the chaos of the world. So please don’t whip yourself with what ifs. You are a good person and a bulwark to more than me.”
Harken thought on her speech. “Your compliments of me are reassuring. Soothes my conscience. But it does not solve my main plight. I notice you did not answer my questions in full. It tells me you can’t see it in the span you can or that my faith is a lonely path.”
“Does your faith have to be shared?” questions Roseline. “Must it be shared with others? Do you need that validation? Or can it be enough that you see the sense of it…”
“It will have to be…” admitted Harken wispy. “I can’t deny what I believe and perhaps I won’t be able to convince others either. Still, I know I will try despite being only humored most of the time. At least they listen. As long as we keep rising I suppose it doesn’t matter. They need not respect the Purpose of The Pit. The Sixty are still rising as the Commandments did decree.”
“Ever the preacher,” smirked Roseline. “You’re welcome to give me sermons whenever you like. Being a shepherd is fitting. You look and talk the part.”
“I can’t deny that after all my studies… I have thought long on how best to be one,” smiled Harken. Allowing the peace to settle into his bones. The demons of his doubt were put to rest, at least for today. “It is a part I am happy to play anyways. The truth is that I have secretly always wanted to be a priest. There was just never anything worth believing in.”
Thoughtful, Roseline said, “And now there is… is it The Pit you place your faith in or the hand that brought us here?”
“Reflecting on the Commandments, I feel trust in their Purpose, but no. Only part of my faith goes there.” Looking at those that walked with them, Harken smiled fatherly, “I think the greater part of my faith is now in them. In the Sixty I trust.”
Julia Sarcos
The Hall of Perdition was empty. A field of azure fungus stretched unmolested in the center of the chamber. It was eerily silent with only the mad light of the fauna to give the Sixty company. They shifted in the cavernous space and waited for a few seconds. Confirming there would be no response. Nothing happened yet, so Malachi led them along the deserted edge towards the Giant’s Lair.
Julia spent the march going over the Council’s battle plans. The shieldmaiden’s efforts with controlling her fear were going well, but the nervous jitters rose up before a fight. Thinking out the next couple of steps helped steady everything. Agreeing with those plans helped the process of release all the more.
It had been quickly decided that traditional battle lines would be less effective against a horde of giants. Being in one group didn’t have enough advantages to overwhelm the disadvantages. Everyone would be divided into groups that could be quickly divided again to carry out various strategies. There were really only basics planned out, as it was felt that extra caution needed to be taken. A fluid plan would play out better than a firm one with these Ratsins. The Prime and his pack had already proven to have tricks up their sleeves.
They were already rolling out the first stage, setting up the battlefield. Moving fast to hopefully have the time to get close enough and set up before the rats appeared. The Council believed there should be due to the monster’s affinity for ambushes. The second stage, was the key part of the whole engagement, eliminating the lesser rats. Everyone had agreed that this was their primary goal.
Attacking the big one with its support would be a fatal effort. The titan would be left alone as long as possible. Should the big one make a move, delaying efforts would be unleashed one after the one. They had to buy every second possible. All so others could hastily pin down the Goliath Ratsins and slay them.
Stage three would be either focusing completely on the Prime or fleeing to try on another day. Julia assumed she wasn’t the only one praying there wouldn’t be a need for another attempt. Regardless, that call was on Malachi’s shoulders.
At the entrance of the Lair, they paused again. Even with Reuben’s and Warner’s descriptions, Julia wasn’t ready for the disorientated sight. The shifting of light and shadow made everything appear to be distorted. The floor seemed to be quivering constantly in the glow of madness. Always in the process of changing shape and occasionally jerking in a new direction. She felt a little dizzy keeping track of the incline of the floor.
Hesitantly, the Sixty stepped into the Giant’s Lair. Eyes peeled while they waited for any reaction from the denizens of this hellhole. Double checking, Julia singled for the frontline to scream. Her warriors stepped forward, clashing shields while roaring. The rest of the Sixty added their own clamor. As the last voice petered out, there were distinct sounds of shifting, but nothing leaped out at their faces.
“Light it up,” called out Malachi. Damian and Anastasia shifted forward, Mana already warping the air around them. The obsidian acolyte raised his staff and a thousand stars fired off from the top of it. In a long stream, violet sparks flew to the ceiling, growing larger every second. The lights spread out in a swarm to beam illumination upon the entirety of the Lair. The blond acolyte raised her rod, swirling it in the air as silvery orbs launched themselves in an organized line around the edge of the open space. One reminded Julia of street lamps and the other of a night’s sky.
The effect on the landscape was dramatic. Unchanging light revealed the funhouse state of the Giant’s Lair. The ground warped into uneven and rolling hills. Cutting across it all were erratic canyons and crevices. Jagged and alien. Azure light still caused some mild distortions, though not enough to cause major issues. The Mana lights did a lot to tame the terrain. Better yet, several of the giants were caught in the open without the shadows. Rank gray fur could be seen where they scurried into the crevices to stay unseen.
Across the way, hateful eyes patiently watched. A massive form was fitted against the wall sitting on a mix of throne and breach in the stone. As warned, it was a horrible sight. Invoking the nightmare of twisting a rat into a man. Unlike the Goliaths there were no protrusion of blackened bones all over the body. Only horn-like pieces that were vaguely in the shape of a barbarous crown. It grinned, but made no move to confront them.
Julia understood why no one had seen the Prime before. Without the Mana lights, that part of the Lair had been cast in the darkest shadows and sharpest light. Even now, her eyes watered at the brilliant radiance burning from behind the Ratsin king. An absolute azure light brightened to almost white.
Clarissa stepped up next to her and raised a strung arrow at the Prime. Julia smoothly pushed the arrow down despite the pouting of the redhead. While the archery commander would no doubt take the potshot at some point, now wasn’t the time. The shieldmaiden looked at Malachi with an eyebrow lifted in question. The leader of the Sixty scanned the Lair and nodded before giving out the commands.
The Sixty split up into groups. Three were headed by the main parties and they would tread carefully into the Giant’s lair. While a fourth group of support held the entrance, the main three would spread out. Acting as both a three-pronged assault and a gridded defense. The strongest members would take point to hold attention and disrupt any rushes. Those within the dips would wait to dogpile the wounded monsters allowed to pass through. It wasn’t dramatic, but practical got things done.
It was unsettling that nothing attacked while they got into position. Julia kept a hard guard for any movement, but they were allowed to maneuver unmolested. Perhaps they want us to overcommit like Warner, wondered the shieldmaiden. The Prime could see perfectly before the lights and hasn’t acted. I can see the giants worming about in the hollows of the floors… is it just that? They’re following the same battle plan? Did we overprepare?
“Hey, are you ready?” smiled Malachi. His tone calm, but his look was sharp.
She smiled back, “Just pre-battle worries… Normally a slavering monster cuts out my thoughts as I try to stick it with the pointy end.”
“I know what you mean,” laughed Malachi nervously. He swept the cavern, frowning at the rats, but smiling at the Sixty as they took the right positions. “It’s going so well I’m expecting we’re making a mistake. But, well, even if we are, I’m not sure I would do anything different. This is what the Council came up with. Gotta believe in ourselves, both for our plan and getting through it if things go wrong. I trust the Sixty will find their way through it.”
“You mean have faith you’ll get us through this,” teased Julia, but her tone was too serious to be taken as a joke.
“I’m just one man, Julia,” frowned her bearded leader. “It’ll take all of us to get through that one.” He nodded towards the foul king of vermin.
Julia grimaced at the hybrid abomination. “Sure, but with you leading our efforts. Far as I’m concerned, we’re here ‘cause you made us into a group. Made us more than just strangers. I remember that first day well.”
“When I have your faith, I can do anything.”
“You better.”