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The Chains That Join Us
43. Forced Growth

43. Forced Growth

While apparent calmness played across the faces of Flip, Dovhran, and Selian they were not calm. Fear had not quite taken root, but the seeds were there. If anything, they were unsettled.

The padlock fell to the floor on its own and the door before them gently opened as if some spectral hand or ghostly wind had pushed it through to allow a spirit to pass before them. Beyond them was a narrow passage, maybe five feet wide and twelve feet long, that ended in darkness. Even the light of the arcane bulbs that Flip had conjured could not pierce the shadows.

As if he were answering a question, Dovhran tossed the arcane bulb in his hand while Flip and Selian looked on nervously. The light that normally spread out at least ten feet from the orb spread out maybe three feet instead and as soon as it touched the floor it was extinguished. A strange sound like dozens of very small bones being snapped as something crushed them under foot reached the doorway as the light was snuffed and shadows filled the space again.

“Can you see anything in there?” Selian whispered to the two men next to here that were certainly more terrified than she was.

“No.” Snapped Flip, as he realized that was experiencing fear and no longer just nervousness.

“A little.” Dovhran muttered.

The changeling was leaning forward as if he was trying to command his body to enter, but his feet were stuck in place, unable to move from where he stood. His eyes were still feline in appearance as he glared into the shadows before him.

With a sigh, Dovhran pulled himself back and let his eyes return to normal. “It’s not that big of a room, and there’s… something on the floor. It looks like very smooth rope. And something else at the very far end keeps moving around but it isn’t making any noise.”

“That looks like magical darkness.” Flip grumbled. “And I believe the man who devised this tomb, the one that left his image and that message, was most certainly in my profession.”

“What should we do?” Dovhran had asked the question, but Selian also had the same question on her face as she continued to look into the dark room.

“May I have an arrow?”

Flip held a hand out to Selian to accept the requested ammunition. One was readily, though uncertainly, handed to the wizard and he began searching through his pockets for a particular item. After a short moment of fumbling, Flip retrieved a single sheet of paper parchment, wrapped it around the head of the arrow, and secured it with string.

“Hold on to this, my dear.” Flip handed the elf back her arrow.

Without other orders, Selian held the now unbalanced arrow awkwardly while Flip continued to rummaged around his pockets.

“Do you have something small… say, a coin to spare?” Flip had turned to Dovhran, who nodded but did not produce the desired item. “Can I have it?”

“Haven’t you got your own coin to use?”

“I do. But I don’t want to use it.” Flip frowned.

The changeling did not produce a coin, so Flip relented and retrieved a coin of his own, a gold shackle, and went about securing it to a long length of string as well. With the coin secured, Flip tossed it into the darkness of the room before him and allowed it clatter to the stone floor. Nothing happened at first, but as Flip pulled the string to draw the coin back, he was met with nearly immediate resistance and the sound of small snapping bones came again. Something on the floor was beginning to pull the coin away and to the right side of the room. It was gentle at first, but the more Flip pulled the more force he was met with in return and the further to the right wall the coin was drawn. With a flourish and snap Flip conjured a bout of fire in his hand that quickly spread down the string, but just as quickly as the flames on the string reached the coin they were extinguished and the string was ripped free of the wizard’s grasp.

“I believe that whatever is on the floor is alive.” Flip nodded as he spoke, as if finally assuring himself.

“You think so?” Dovhran asked sarcastically. “Whatever those smooth tendrils are they’re obviously alive.”

“They’re a plant.” Selian muttered, mostly to herself as she puzzled out something that had been bothering her. “Meadowthorn mentioned that he knew of three safeguards in the tomb. We never asked him about them… but he said one was a certain type of plant.”

“A plant that grows in darkness and moves…” Flip frowned as he thought through the long list of plants he was familiar with. “I don’t know of a plant that can survive in complete darkness, let alone magical darkness.I would guess waste withers, but I know they can’t do this.”

“It’s rhubaria vines.” Selian seemed to relax at her realization. “They’re elven plants. They grow in darkness, can be carnivorous, and absorb magic. It’s a perfect safeguard when you anticipate someone with magical skill trying to steal from your tomb. Whoever that wizard was, the one who built this place, he was certainly well traveled. You can’t find these outside of the exclusion zone anymore.”

Somewhat emboldened by her realization, Selian stepped towards the door but was quickly stopped by Flip.

“You could be right, I don’t know anything about that plant…” Flip started, “but there is more than one thing bothering me in that room. You said there was something at the far end of the room?”

Dovhran seemed to catch on quickly. “Yes. Something at the very back. It’s in constant motion. Almost like a wall of falling water but it moves in all directions.”

“Shoot it.” Flip tapped the arrow, still in Selians hand and took a step back. “It might take a few arrows, but maybe we will get lucky.”

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With a deep breath that expressed all her confusion, Selian nocked her arrow, took a breath in, held it, and released both breath and arrow. And, for a second, the arrow was invisible. Lost in the shadow of magical darkness, not changeling, human, or elf could follow its flight. But then a screeching nose like dry burning timbers echoed out from the far side of the room and masked the soft thud of the arrow finding place in the opposite wall from the door. There was a short flash of light as well, as the paper wrapped around the arrow burst into flame and quickly disintegrated.

“Did you know that was going to happen?” Selian was, as usual when it came to Flip, exasperated.

“No. I thought you’d hit something alive that would attack us…” Flip bit hit lip and curled his beard in confusion. “I have no idea what that reaction means.”

Selian took a deep breath before smiling and leering at Flip. “You want a closer look?”

“You said the plant was carnivorous… is it safe to get closer?”

“As long as you don’t step on its roots it has no idea where you are.” Selian’s grin grew wider.

The elf knew that she had an advantage over the wizard. She was familiar with the vines, and she knew his curiosity was growing. For once, she could be confusing and mysterious.

“Just put your feet where I put mine… and no magic.” Selian retrieved a small hand lamp from her bag and began to trim the wick. “It’s dark, but fire should still help a little. Would you like to join us, Dovhran?”

“I will watch and get help if you start to die.” The changeling took a step back from the open door and nodded up to the hole in the ceiling above them.

His reassuring did nothing to comfort either the wizard or the navigator. But they already expected as much.

As Selian lit her lamp and took a step into the darkened room, Flip shrugged and followed close behind. In the meager light the lamp provided, and it was certainly cut short in the shadow of magical darkness, though not expunged entirely, Flip could just make out the pale white tendrils of plant root that snaked across the cobblestone floor. Each tendril lead back to one of four small alcoves on either side of the rectangular room. The plant body in each alcove was a blood red, or appeared to be in the dim light, and stalk like; like a cross between celery and lemongrass. The plants drooped slightly, but their danger was already impressed upon Flip’s mind.

When Selian had brought Flip roughly twelve feet from the furthest wall from the door, she stopped and let Flip step gingerly in front of her. The far wall seem to be cloaked in a sheet of warbling energy, like the heat that rises from hot stone at mid day and ripples the air. It had an almost gray or purple tint to it, it was hard to see in the darkness. Closer inspection would have revealed that the energy had not only ignited the paper on the arrow, but destroyed the entire wooden shaft and feather fletching.

Flip never grew close enough to see that, however, as not two steps in front of Selian the wizard accidentally nudged the side of a small root tendril. He did not even notice, nor did the elf behind him, not until thicker angrier roots sprang out from the dark corners of the plants alcove and wrapped around Flip’s ankles. As he fell from the pull of the grasping roots, he fell on more roots from two other plants and he was quickly in a bind that was pulling him in two different directions rather painfully. Selian, who had stood stock still throughout the whole panic, did not know how to help her companion. She had never actually witnessed rhubaria vines before, only heard stories. In her mind she did a quick assessment of her options.

The elf could cut the roots with her dagger, but it might alert them to a second food source and put her in danger. She could try shooting arrows at the grasping roots, which might keep her safe but it would very hard to do and she would have to put her lamp down to shoot. She knew no magic, not that it would effect the plants. The plants were well known for their ability to absorb and feed off of magic. Anything that could destroy or even just keep them at bay would require an arcanist of Flip’s level or greater. Though, as she despaired at her lack of knowledge of magic, a thought occurred to her that pieced together two disparate pieces of visual information that had been silently bothering her. Why was a wall of magical destruction not being drained by the plants? Moreover, why was such magic so close to plants that could destroy it in the first place?

“Dovhran, sprint as fast as you can!” Selian bolted from her position as she spoke, intentionally brushing roots in the process and dropping the lamp from her hands. “The plants need to touch what’s at the back of the room!”

Dovhran paused, only for a moment though. He had seen the shadow of Flip’s form fall to the ground and the wizard’s panicked swears echo back to him. The changeling had been hunched forward, just waiting for a plan to cross his mind so that he could help. As soon as a plan had been given to him, Dovhran sprang into action. He threw two daggers first to the floor ahead of him to hopefully distract the roots he would inevitably step on first, which worked to a small extent as root quickly grew and expanded towards the points of impact and in the way of the roots that followed to catch the changeling by the ankles as he strode over their other feelers.

When the changeling reached the point where Flip was being slowly dragged in two different reactions, he leapt over the wizard and to Selians side where she was deftly dodging the grasping roots shooting out to catch her. She moved as swiftly as an expert dancer, her boots clicking against the stone with the same speed as a galloping horse. As she danced away she inched ever closer to the wall of destructive force behind her. Dovhran, sprinting full tilt at her was her sign to make her final move. Selian tackled Dovhran mid-stride as she leapt away from the back wall after giving the roots the final impression that she was headed there. Dovhran had told the roots much the same thing as dozens of hungry vines stretched out after him. But with grace and unpredictable strength, Selian lifted Dovhran over her shoulder like a maiden and landed gingerly in a space yet untouched by roots some four feet away from where the two of them had last set foot. It was an impressive feat, though it took every ounce of her strength to maintain her balance and posture with the changeling slung over her shoulder as he was.

With eager eyes, the changeling and elf watched the roots shoot out to the invisible wall of destructive energy. No sooner did they touch it than the terrible popping and cracking noise that had accompanied their nightmarish growth stopped. But nothing beyond that happened. It seemed every plant in the room, which housed eight rhubaria plants, had at least one root sticking through the plane of apparent destruction… and yet nothing changed.

“Cut me loose!” Flip screeched. “I have no desire to be rent in twain and reduced to fertilizer!”

Neither Selian nor Dovhran moved to help him, however, as they were still cautious of moving. But as they waited, even with Flip’s struggling and writhing on the floor against the grip of the roots, nothing happened. Nothing at all.

Selian was the first to test the waters as she tapped the toe of her boot against a thick root that had just grown out in front of her. There was no reaction. The elf placed Dovhran down gently on a web of roots, and no vines swept out to claim him. It was very nearly haunting how quiet the room had become once again. Dovhran knelt down by Flip to cut him free of the vines grasping him and was met with no resistance, even when he sliced through the plants roots.

“Safe my hindquarters.” Growled Flip as he stood with a huff. “Right. Now what?”

“I suppose we can pass now?” Selian shrugged.

“Do you really think it’s that simple?” Dovhran raised an eyebrow at Selian and Flip as they finished brushing themselves off and recovering from their moment of panic.

“Don’t you dare tempt the fates like that, Dovhran. You’ll only make the rest of this so much harder.” Selian shook her head as she spoke. “And I refuse to lift your body again, you’re heavy as an anchor.”