By the time Bahram and Amat joined them at the oak table in the storage room, Akisane and Shank had properly infused themselves with wine. A single candle's weak light lit their faces.
Unsteady, Akisane stood and smiled. “So good to see you. Have a drink.” Why was everyone so drab whenever he was in a good mood?
Bahram loops jangled in the dimness. “I do not drink.”
Amat shook his head. “Bahram says it makes me dull.”
Akisane slapped the giant man on the shoulder. “Nonsense. A sword can become dull, but not a club. So don’t worry and have some.”
Amat glanced at Bahram uncertainly, took the wine, and drained it. “Mmm, so good.”
Akisane lowered his voice, though they were alone deep in the castle’s bowels. “Duke Akitomo has sent me to take the Darksun Sword. I think this is the test. If I fail, he’ll be rid of me. But if I succeed, he’ll know I’m worthy.”
Bahram tapped his long fingers together. “I don’t like it. That weapon has sat undisturbed for centuries for a reason.”
Shank fiddled with the makeshift sheath that covered the blade on his stump. He seemed to enjoy watching Bahram come to terms with the task. “The Duke uses us like a stick to see if anything’s in the snake hole. Imagine the traps that could surround that thing.”
A silence settled in the room as their fears took form. Akisane imagined magic fire burning him to ashes as he gripped the sword.
Amat spoke first. “We’ll be a really good stick.”
The quartet descended into the caverns beneath the castle. The size of the Red Temple dwarfed them. Massive stalagmites flanked the path they walked to reach its door.
Akisane tripped at the doorway and hit his shin. He stopped and leaned against the stonework and rubbed it. He looked inside at the statue of a man holding a mountain. “This place is old. It’s older than the orders of knights, back when there were elemental druids.”
Shank’s blade gleamed in the light of the torch he held aloft. “Perhaps the magic’s too old to do any harm.”
Bahram rolled his flying carpet and strapped it to his back. “I can bet you gold otherwise, but if I win, there might not be much left to collect from.”
At the back of the temple stood a door that teamed with purple energy when touched. Akisane drew his demon sword to swing and hopefully dispel the ward.
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“Allow me,” Bahram said, “And unsealed the door with a flash of light.
A breath exhaled from the passageway beyond the doorway. It carried a smell of dust and sulfur.
About a hundred paces down the angled and cramped passage, Bahram cocked his head, “Ahh, we’ve sprung a trap already. My ears never fail.”
Shank looked around. “What is it?”
“Things have come alive. Do not take a step without first picking it. Do not lay a hand on anything you’re not forced to. For you, Amat, that goes double.”
Amat put a hand to his chest as if he were hurt. “You know me. I’m careful.” He took another step forward, and a block clicked underfoot.
Akisane cringed, expecting the ceiling to fall on top of them. But nothing happened, at least not yet. “Don’t lift your foot. I’m going to shadow-walk us out of here. Hold on.” He gripped Shank’s shoulder and tried to dart into the shadow world, but the ability slipped away. He tried to concentrate, but it remained elusive. “I can’t.”
A spectral whip snaked from Bahram’s fist. “A spirit comes from behind us. Run.” He snapped the whip, and it erupted into flame. The tongue of the whip detonated the stone, which blocked their way back to the temple.
They went deeper into the passageway. Akisane ran like a one-handed thief. The temperature rose, which meant they were near the lava flows and the Heart of the Mountain.
Just as they entered a cavern of expansive darkness, something crashed into Bahram, and his whip blinked out of existence. It flung him to the side, where his limp body rolled from the rock.
A blue spirit rampaged among them. It resembled a boar, though it was a gaseous spirit. It caught Shank’s trousers and took the man for a ride. Shank cursed until it tossed him aside.
Amat tried to swing a cudgel at it, but it was immaterial. And he spun to run, but blood streamed from a hole in his thigh. He screamed and scrambled away in panic.
It rounded on Akisane, who slowed it with a blast of telekinetic energy. He raised the demon sword to skewer the spirit, but it was too fast and strong. The ground slammed into his back, and he bent at the waist to see what was happening. It rushed him, and there was no time to bring up his sword to save himself.
The fire whip coiled around it. Bahram pulled.
Akisane lifted himself from the ground and stabbed. The demon sword didn’t pass through but buried deep into the creature. It screamed with each thrust. It was a horrible sound that pierced the air. It had a human quality. It made him feel like a murderer. But I am a murderer.
It twitched until it died, and then the power flowed. Akisane kept the blade inside the spirit's corpse beyond the point of danger. The power would kill him. What little light that was in the cavern dimmed more and more.
Shank slammed into Akisane, and the two landed hard. “What are you doing?”
Akisane raised his sword. It was short, broken in twain.
Henry (Akisane)
Level: 10
Focus: Telekinesis
Secondary focus: Shadow walker
Weapons: demon sword - 10% corrupt