The last dregs of sunlight are almost gone, and my duty must soon commence. I watch as the colorful rays of sunset dance upon the sheer obsidian cliffs that encircle and cut Unadeam away from the rest of the world. This bastion of humanity in the heart of a mountainous prison, bears within its walls a sinful secret. A secret that I must free for my sake, and for her sake.
The light that dances playfully on the leaves, now fades into darkness. I sit, waiting as I watch from my hiding place, as activity in the village of Unadeam slowly wanes. I watch as children attempt to get in what little playtime they can before their beds claim them. Mothers call with all the authority a wooden spoon gives them. Fathers return from the forest lifting upon their backs the riches of the hunt. And crones hobble through the main road providing their blessing upon each resident as they prepare for a peaceful slumber. All this activity is illuminated by a similar light to that of the sun setting, as torches and candles radiate a warm light that prances upon the wooden walls. However, light isn’t perpetual.
Slowly, ever so slowly, smoke replaces the dying sparks that once warded off the darkness. The matriarchs in their attempts to ward off Martog, now perform their vigil as they wander the circular alleys that jut off from the main road. These alleys create a solemn, interconnected, and labyrinthian sigil to represent the darkness that their goddess wards off into eternity. These chosen of their goddess perform a sacred rite to help keep said darkness at bay. The backs of each home face each other to make these dark alleys seldom walked by the righteous, as there are larger more personable streets that circle and connect to the solitary main road that leads to the village’s heart. These more well-lit streets representing their goddess’ life bearing womb are the roads where the doors of each village home face and are permissible to be wandered and pondered by the common folk.
I, a son of an outsider, have never stepped foot on these sacred roads only traversed by those of pure blood. However, for a lich’s son like me, sacrilege is often a precious protection. To enter places restricted, sometimes all that is necessary is to find the proper route. Despite the matriarchs continuing their sacrosanct vigil, the moment is now or else I won’t have enough time. Clasping a shovel in my hands, I emerge from hiding.
The back walls of the outer circle of homes form a barricade of sorts that have one visible opening which is the main road of the village. This main entrance is guarded, by large lumbering brutes of men. However, for those that walk less than traditional paths, those brutish guards are not even a hurdle to cross. Despite the village attempting to form perfectly circular paths the designs of the matriarchs were made in a way where each alley needed to flow into each other, as darkness could wriggle its way into any crevasse, much like how the foul Martog wriggled his way into the very womb of the goddess to create a perversion of her creations, man and demons.
The villagers are a highly religious people, but the village’s construction wasn’t one of mathematical perfection, and for this I am thankful, as there is a single crack in the wall. Though hidden by what appears to be just another piece of a person’s home, all this section of the wall is, are several boards that were nailed to two homes to seal a hole in the construction of the wall. I remove a bottom board that has long been loose and crawl into a thin hallway that leads directly into the main labyrinth of the alleys. Replacing the board, I begin my dark journey to the central circle.
I quickly navigate the maze, taking time to freeze and evaluate my options only when I believe I hear something or see torchlight. Seasons of planning have led to this moment, several seasons spent slowly and meticulously digging, learning from many failed attempts, and waiting for a new moon. Despite my failures, I know tonight will be different, it must be, my time is running out.
I hear the voices of the matriarchs and their chants and know they are soon to be upon me. The path I had chosen to get to my destination now compromised, I quickly climb onto a roof, hoping not to disturb those inside. I cling to the roof and cover myself more thoroughly with my cloak, as I look onward at the approaching matriarchs. I had never had the chance to get a good look at them, then again if I had encountered problems like this I would have run away and postponed my plans for another day. However, tonight is not like other nights, nor can I back down now.
“The goddess be praised,” chant the matriarch’s as they seem to sway more than walk forward, “blessed be Unadeam saved from her wrath, chosen to be raptured, chosen to be saved.”
What I always thought was torch light was actually small oil lamps that they held and waved back and forth in time to their swaying. The garb of the matriarchs bore several ornaments that also swayed with their rhythmic movements. The lead member of the group, my grandmother the high matriarch, was the only one to wear metallic ornaments and wore a headdress made of a boar skull. Periodically, I would hear a drum sound, as one of the following matriarch’s struck a hide drum in rhythm to their chanted prayers.
My heart rate increased as their parade passed under me. I tried all I could to control my breathing and not make a sound as they passed. Suddenly I felt myself slip and the noise was enough to alert the matriarchs below. The chanting stopped.
“Our vigil is more important than a spooked squirrel! We keep Martog’s demons at bay! we must continue the vigil,” says the high matriarch as she signals with her wrinkled hand to continue forward. With that single gesture the matriarchs continued their chanting and eventually disappeared down another alley.
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I carefully get down from the roof and continue my journey. I make note of each turn I make and the distances I’ve traveled to get to the central circle, as it’s not necessarily the journey in that is difficult, it is making sure I can travel back to my exit. I can’t make noticeable marks to help my return journey, as they could be discovered by the matriarchs.
Weaving ever inward I know that my destination is close. I continue forward until I see a light shining through a small hole in the wall of a home that pertains to the central circle of the village.
“Uzuri, it’s me,” I whisper through the hole finally having a moment to relax as I have reached my goal.
“Skath, is that you?” responds a voice. The light shining through the hole disappears swiftly, and the darkness of the night consumes last sputters of flame.
“I’m getting you out of here tonight! Get ready, because I’m close to finishing the tunnel,” I say immediately getting to work. I uncover a small hole covered in brush and leaves just large enough for me to slide in, and just small enough when hidden to not appear more than a gap created through wear and tear of the soil. I’ve spent so long digging this hole, removing dirt by the pailful, sometimes less than even that, over several seasons dumping the dirt outside the village so as to not create a dirt mound in the alleys.
All my other attempts to create holes in the wall itself have been discovered and met with further fortification. I am also banned from entering the village or even from speaking to the villagers, being the child of an outsider. My several attempts to bring the village’s awareness to Uzuri’s imprisonment have been met with severe punishment. However, that ends tonight! Skath the liar, Skath the outsider dies here as I free Uzuri from the wrathful prison of her father’s make.
Just a little bit more, and my shovel hits a floorboard. I push the board upward and it moves out of the way. I remove another board and the hole should be just big enough for Uzuri to enter. I drop my shovel in the hole and lift myself into Uzuri’s room for the first time in my life.
“You ready Uzuri?” I ask poking my head into her room, “because it’s now or never. I don’t think I’ll have enough time to make another hole like this again, especially if your father discovers us.”
The room was painted pitch black in shadow, but I could barely make out a cloaked figure, who nods to me. I help her get into the hole I dug and do the same to get her into the alley.
“This is what the world beyond those four walls looks like?” she says gasping looking up and down the alley and staring into the sky, “those are stars aren’t they, they look so pretty.”
I raise my hand to tell her now’s not the time to speak, as we need to get going. However, before we begin our escape from the village, I also look up into the sky, and for the first time in a long time I also notice how beautiful they are. I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long to be able to show her the stars, to show her a world beyond walls, and it’s finally happening. Though, now isn’t the time for stargazing.
I grab Uzuri’s hand and notice that her hand is gloved. A part of me wanted to actually feel her hand in mine after so many passes of the seasons of imagining this moment. I feel her hand tighten around mine and my heart for the second time that night began to race. I turn around to see her face, something that I have only been able to envision in my mind’s eye, and she turns her face and hood in a way that it is obscured in darkness. I find her movement to hide herself from me strange, but then again, in the new moon’s shroud her face may have been obscured anyway. I hate how this is the first time we are physically in each other’s presence and a wall of darkness still separates us.
Clenching her hand more firmly in mine I begin guiding her through the alleys. In the excitement and stress of the escape, my mind wonders if this is what being on a date is like. I shake my head and refocus on reality pushing that stupid thought aside, as I go through my mental map of the different paths I took. I know that the matriarchs must have completed their vigil by now, so we are safe to go at a slower pace, but dawn is soon approaching.
We quietly move through the shadows of the alleys. Each turn I note, and with each turn I feel more and more relieved as the short time where the village is entirely quiet and peaceful had arrived. The only area that still bore anyone semi-cognitive was the main entrance of the village, and that wasn’t where we were headed. My mental map seemed close to fruition and my heart soared as my life’s goal up until this point was near completion.
One more turn and… I messed up. I should be right where the exit is, but instead of the small hallway to freedom, I see I had guided us to the alley leading to the guarded entrance of the village. I must have been turned around when I was hiding from the matriarchs.
I panic for a brief second, but I realize that perhaps this could be the perfect opportunity. Uzuri could be turned into the village guard and receive the protection she needs. I was planning on doing that anyway, but in a little less of a sacrilegious way. I bite my lip as I wonder what the repercussions could be if I deliver her to the guard emerging from the sacred alleys of their village. Alleys only traveled by the goddess’ elect.
Frozen in indecision, I feel something connect with the back of my skull. I fall to my knees and look to my side to see my shovel being held by a large hand.
“Uzuri run to the guard!” I yell as I try to regain my composure, “they’ll protect you, by the goddess they have to.”
I let go of her hand and watch as she sprints toward the lumbering hulks that stand outside the alley now aware of our presence. I watch her yell at them to help her.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when the two guards saw her, they grabbed her with extreme force, such force that I knew it to be sinful in accordance with the laws of the village. Lifting a hand against a woman of any age could get you strung up for days, actually doing something to cause harm could get you killed. Right in front of me I saw one punch Uzuri and I saw her slump over still in the collective grasp of the guards.
“What are you doing, you sin against the goddess!” I yell trying to get back up and rush toward them, only to feel the shovel connect with my back, and I collapse into the dirt. I roll over onto my back and notice the first rays of dawn spilling into the sky, which silhouetted a dark figure who raises my shovel one last time.