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The Order of the Stag
Chapter 10 - The Towers

Chapter 10 - The Towers

Nalion slowly opened his eyes. It had been a good meditation session. He finally felt fully rested after all the exertion of the past days. His mind briefly wandered to thoughts of Hama, wondering if they had gotten to the capitol in time. Nalion would just have to hope for the best.

He linked his nimble fingers and lifted his hands upwards, stretching his arms as he stood up from where he’d sat down and walked to his backpack. First things first, he decided as he pulled out the book once more. He hadn’t made any progress so far but he was sure there was something. He just had to keep going until his mind would figure it out. He stroked the back of the book gently, almost lovingly, a sense of relief filling him as the book was steadily in his grasp. It felt wrong somehow not having it in his hands. It made him worry about losing it.

He glanced out of the window, seeing that the sun had already risen. He knew that Erevan and Ilias would probably rise soon for breakfast, yet he couldn’t resist opening the book. He’d read just for a small while, and then he’d join the others. They would understand.

It had been difficult not to spend the whole night flipping through the pages. Though he knew himself well enough to know that he had needed the rest and therefore had forced himself to meditate. It had taken longer than usual for him to slip into the meditative trance as his mind kept drifting to the conundrum presented by the book. Finally he could gaze at its beautiful pages.

All concepts of time disappeared as soon as he opened the book. After what could have been the shortest of moments or several days there was suddenly a loud banging on his door. Only… As Nalion lifted his gaze from the pages it didn’t seem like he was in his room anymore. Everything was distorted, the sounds somehow muffled and amplified at the same time.

The banging continued, sending a jolt of fear through him as he looked in horror. Accompanying the sounds were thick, bright blue and wet tentacles slithering their way in from the edges of a flimsy door. He made a small squeaking sound as he fled in terror, hiding under what could’ve once been a bed. Everything seemed to be moist in this world and carried an eerie hue of light blue. The banging continued. The tentacles creeped in more and more and more as they danced in the air. As if searching for something. As if searching for him.

Suddenly, the slithering tendrils withdrew. Then, just as sudden, the door exploded inwards. The wet pieces of the wood made strange noises as they hit the walls and what might’ve passed as furniture of the room. Everything inside him went cold. Something had entered the room. Nalion held his breath in order to not betray his hiding place to whatever monster that had just traipsed in.

Its form was covered in the very same tentacles from before, making it difficult for the scrawny elf to see anything else in the room. It made odd, rhythmic noises as it moved deeper into the room. It was almost as if it was speaking in a language Nalion couldn’t comprehend. The mere sound of them chilled him to the bone. It walked slowly, painstakingly so. It then stopped by the book, very close to where Nalion was hiding.

Not the book! Nalions heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was almost surprised that the monster couldn’t hear it. A drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. To his immense despair, the monster lifted his precious book and… Suddenly the monster was replaced by a human. The human had skin the color of dark caramel and even darker hair. Whoever it was, the human was only there for a blink of an eye, but Nalion thought he could see something resembling a scar on the side of the human's temple.

Then the book was closed, and Ilias was left standing where the monster-and-or-other-human had been. Ilias was frowning down at the book, setting it on the bedside table all the while calling for Nalion.

Nalion’s ears were ringing. He felt a little disoriented after all the drastic changes to his environment. He could, weirdly enough, also hear the crashing of waves on stones. As if he was by the sea. Yet gone was the cool moistness and the blue glow, and the door was no longer smashed to the ground. He was getting dizzy as he realized he was still holding his breath. Letting it out with a whoosh he greedily gulped some of the inn’s rather stuffy air.

The druid crawled out from under the bed, cheeks blossoming the faintest of red with embarrassment. He gave an awkward “Good morning,” as Ilias spun around with a gasp, clutching his chest. He was pretty sure that that was a sign that Ilias was startled by his sudden appearance. Due to the scare, the human almost fell on the bedside table which was now behind him. Nalion made a move to go help him but Ilias gathered himself quickly, giving Nalion a warm smile as well as a “Good morning.”

Ilias then informed him that Erevan was downstairs waiting for them. Apparently the both of them had already eaten breakfast, using their own supplies. Nalion told the younger mage that he’d soon be joining them, since he was still feeling a bit shaky and wanted a moment to calm his racing heart. He also didn’t want to worry Ilias.

As Ilias closed the door Nalion focused on taking a few deep breaths. He closed his eyes as he breathed in, holding it, then out, holding it and repeated this a few times. He then shifted his focus to how the floor felt towards the soles of his feet, the sounds he could hear both from himself and from the space around him, the different shapes and colors that he could see in the room as he opened his eyes again.

Feeling a bit more grounded and present, Nalion packed the book in his bag with great care and took out some of his supplies to eat. He offered some breakfast to Spiro too, who was currently circling by his feet, making concerned noises. Nalion gave the small pseudodragon a few soothing pets as they ate together in silence.

Then he lifted his backpack and headed towards the door. Time to go investigate the towers. As he opened the door, Spiro flew up and sat down on his head. It made him smile. The warm weight was a bit heavy, but not uncomfortably so. Feeling calmer and more focused, Nalion walked from his room, down the stairs and into the main room of the inn. He was met by the sight of Erevan and Ilias sitting in silence as they waited.

Erevan was frowning at the table, which was not unusual, whereas Ilias was slightly fidgeting in his seat. Nalion wondered if the human really needed to empty his bladder. Though it was odd that he wouldn’t have done it while Nalion was still upstairs. Oh well. Humans and their habits remained a mystery.

They both quickly rose to their feet as they saw him and Spiro approaching, making Nalion feel faintly guilty. It seemed they had been waiting for him for quite a while. Bobby, however, was standing behind the desk where the mugs were - most likely due to Erevan desiring a morning beer or two. The innkeeper gave him a curt nod as a greeting all the while eyeing the small pseudodragon on his head with an unreadable expression on his face. Nalion decided to do the same.

To nod, that is. There was no pseudodragon on Bobby's head. Not that he could see at least.

“Took your time,” Erevan muttered as they took their leave, giving him a glance. “Got stuck reading that book again?”

“Whaaat? Noooo, no, no I wasn’t reading, not at all, haha me reading?” Nalion lied smoothly. He was getting quite good at it if he said so himself.

Erevan snorted for reasons unknown and started leading the way towards the tall towers.

It took them a while to get outside of the town and then they had to trek a small bit further from the edge of it before they got close to the towers. They appeared to be surprisingly well kept considering how old they were supposed to be. Not a smudge or dent could be seen upon them. Even though they weren't at the foot of the smaller cubic-shaped entrance, Nalion still had to tilt his head backwards in order to see the highest point.

The towers were standing in the middle of a lake, with a white marble bridge closing the gap between the entrance and the land. The bridge had not fared as well as the towers. There was vegetation creeping its way along the railings, the decorations upon it faded where the plant life had begun to take over. The bridge was still wide enough so that the three of them could walk side by side without any trouble and there didn’t seem to be any gaps or holes in it.

On both sides of it there were sturdy railings coming all the way up to Nalions shoulders and would have been blocking the view of the lake had he been somewhat shorter. The bridge and the railings were all made from the same white marble and decorated with silver. It all appeared to have been quite imposing in its time, as if the people building the towers had wanted to remind its guests of how powerful they were. Now the bridge's glory days were over. It was a little sad.

The trio stepped on the bridge and, deeming it sturdy, began to make their way to the entrance. The only sound was their boots clacking on the cold and hard material as they walked.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Nalion saw something. He turned his head and looked curiously at the lake. There were ripples, spreading on the otherwise untouched surface. He remembered Claire saying there were no fish in the lake. Nalion had assumed that this meant that there was no other life either. Suddenly, something lifted up from the depths of the lake. Something long and slimy. Something that looked like… He squinted. A tentacle? His eyes widened in alarm as his stomach plummeted. Even the mere tip of the tentacle was huge.

“Get down!” he hissed as he dropped down on his stomach. The cool stones were a shock to his warm flesh, sending shivers down his spine. Spiro gave a quiet hiss as well, wings and tail raised threateningly towards the lake even though the view was now blocked by the railings of the bridge.

Nalion could hear two thuds as both Erevan and Ilias instantly dropped down to join him.

“What is it?” whispered Erevan, blue eyes intense.

“I -, I’m not sure,” Nalion whispered back, unsettled. He was feeling a bit off-balance, thinking of the situation in the morning. What if there were no tentacles and his mind was just playing tricks on him? Or what if there were tentacles and they were in danger? He mulled it over quickly, deciding it was better to play on the safe side and stay on all fours - unseen by possible creatures in the lake.

Erevan merely nodded, not bothering with any more questions as he began crawling forward. Erevan was, after all, a man of action.

Their progress was painstakingly slow as they kept crawling their way towards the towers. Nalion's muscles were starting to cramp and shake from the strain as they finally reached the imposing building. The double doors were large and heavy looking, made from the same white marble as the bridge. The silver decorations upon them were similar to the ones on the railings. Nalion felt very small as he gazed up where the doors met the walls.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Do you think the spell will work inside?” Erevan asked in a low voice, looking in the direction of the lake distrustfully. Ilias too was eyeing the lake with an unreadable expression on his face.

Nalion glanced towards the large body of water, but he couldn’t see anything any more. The surface of the lake was still, almost unnaturally so.

“What spell?” He whispered back, confused.

“The hiding spell that you used before.” At Nalions empty stare, Erevan rolled his eyes and continued, “The one you used at the bandit hideout? With Hama?”

AAAAHHHH, that spell! Nalion had completely and utterly forgotten about that. He’d been so freaked out by the maybe-real-maybe-not tentacle tip he’d seen. He really didn’t want some horrific tentacle-monster coming after him.

“I forgot about that! It should work just fine,” Nalion answered, confident in his capabilities. He’d done the spell many times when he’d been younger and traveling around Lucca, researching different plants and wildlife. Now he was also a bit more familiar with the strain of stretching the spell to include several creatures.

Erevan slapped his forehead with his palm. Silently, of course, as Erevan was nothing if not a professional.

Nalion wasn’t quite sure as to why Erevan had been slapping himself so much. Was it something he had picked up from humans? Or was it something that was just Erevan? Maybe it was to stimulate the blood flow in the brain, and it helped clear the mind or sharpen one's intellectual capabilities for a short amount of time? He would need to experiment with it further in order to support either hypothesis.

Though first he needed to create some task to do after, something not too hard so that he could replicate it both with and without the slap several times… But it couldn’t be something that one naturally got better at as one mastered the skill necessary. Also it needed to be something that other people could do so that he could increase the sample size of the study, making the results more generalizable. But then again he probably wouldn’t be able to do that considering he was the only elf he could reach for the time being. Maybe he’d start with humans? And maybe -

Nalion's inner monologue was interrupted by Erevan harshly poking his shoulder. Oh, right. He gave Erevan a sheepish smile as he focused on the present again.

“Cast. The spell. Now,” Erevan mouthed, face pinched in some emotion.

Nalion did as asked and soon he could feel how the magic settled around them like a familiar and comfortable second skin.

Erevan turned impatiently before slowly opening one of the doors. Nalion had expected a creak, or something akin to it, but was surprised to find out the door made no sound at all. It seemed heavy though. Or maybe Erevan was just being careful. Or both.

Nalion followed the others inside and paused in the entryway in wonder. The room was huge, following the same theme of the outside with the white marble and silver decorations. On the walls there were tall rectangular windows letting in the light from outside as well as several paintings. They were all surprisingly well preserved. A brunet man in simple and fine robes was presented in most of the paintings, his smile wide and radiant.

They slowly tip-toed their way forward, being wary of potential traps or movements. At the end of the room there were stairs: a spiraling staircase leading upwards and a more traditional one leading down. Higher up by the spiral staircase, fastened to the bright wall, there was an ornamental black dragon head with its mouths agape. It was somehow glistening despite its color. Nalion squinted. The dragon appeared to have two red eyes which shone even brighter than the rest of the statue.

On the stairs leading down he could spy some old and damaged books lying haphazardly, as if someone had thrown them around willy-nilly a long time ago.

As he took in the sights of what must have once been a great entrance hall, a skeleton dressed in tattered and barely-even-there clothing began to make its way down the stairs. It was impossible to ascertain the color of the clothes due to their state of decay.

Instantly the trio was on high alert. Erevan grabbed his bow and notched an arrow with alarming speed whereas Ilias stood with a spear on one hand and magic glowing faint blue in the other. He hadn’t noticed Ilias had a spear in the first place. Until now that is. The skeleton, however, didn’t seem deterred by this as it calmly continued its descent. Yet neither did it look like it was gearing up for a fight. It merely kept walking with its bony hands bent behind its back.

But not in a I’m-holding-knife-and-will-stab-you-when-you-least-expect-it kind of way. But then again Nalion wasn’t an expert on maybe-alive-maybe-dead-or-perhaps-undead skeletons. It seemed more like an Erevan or Hama thing.

The trio stood, tense, as the skeleton maintained its course. It kept nonchalantly strolling towards them. Or so Nalion guessed. How did one know if a skeleton was nonchalant?

Just as it seemed that Erevan was about to let the arrow fly, the skeleton stopped and did something unexpected. It bowed down to them, deep and with an exaggerated flourish. It all looked very over the top to Nalion, but then again who was he to look down upon their culture. It could also have been a trick to make them lower their guard. Nalion shook his head marginally as if to banish the thoughts. He was beginning to sound like Erevan.

Speaking of. Nalion glanced at Erevan to see the ranger eyeing the skeleton distrustfully, not lowering his weapon. Ilias, however, seemed to be unsure whether to relax or to remain steadfast. This resulted in the human slightly lowering the spear only to bring it up again, and then lower again and up again… The magic in his other hand was flickering as if reflecting the indecision within the young mage.

The skeleton straightened its back slowly. It then thrusted its left hand straight up, nearly causing its own impalement as Erevan's fingers twitched in response to the sudden movement. The skeleton paid this no heed as it continued moving the left hand, as if it would throw confetti in the air.

Then, with a quick step backwards and lowering its head once more, the skeleton presented a small silver bell in its right hand. It was almost comical, the pose the skeleton had stricken. One hand in the air, feet far apart, head down and the other hand stretched out right in front of it. It felt very extravagant.

The trio glanced at each other. The skeleton stood still as a grave, the bell resting on top of the small bones of its palm. Nalion turned back towards the other two and shrugged.

This seemed to be enough for Ilias to make his mind as the spear in his hand vanished into thin air and the magic died out. Nalion noted with interest that there had been the tiniest blue spark in the human’s eyes again while he’d been wielding the magic, snuffed away as soon as the magic died out. It was intriguing. Why was the magic so different? Why did it present itself in such an unusual manner? Truly fascinating.

As Nalion’s thoughts kept racing around, puzzling, Ilias gave a slight bow back to the skeleton and took the offered bell with a polite “Thank you.”

Well, Nalion presumed it was polite. Could have been sarcasm as well. He’d struggled with knowing the difference before. Dismissing the thoughts as unimportant at the moment, Nalion looked at Erevan. He could see as the ranger gritted his teeth together in response, probably due to some emotion.

The skeleton pointed at the bell currently in Ilias’ grasp. Then it grasped the air, as if holding something thin. The skeleton started shaking its hand back and forth and back and forth, all the while pointing at itself. Nalion cocked his head, confused. He had no idea what the skeleton meant with that. Another human greeting ritual?

“I think we can use this to call on… him?” Ilias said slowly and hesitantly, his gaze flitting in between the skeleton, Nalion and Erevan. Yes, that could be it!

“So we summon you with the bell?” Nalion asked the skeleton in a rushed tone. He wondered how that worked. Could the skeleton see and hear? And if it could, would the other senses work as well? Would it be able to speak? Was it a person or simply an act of necromancy, a mindless husk there to do the bidding of its summoner? Also how did Ilias know the skeleton was a he? Was there some obvious way to read the bone structure that had lended their human insight the others were deprived of purely due to his race? Or was it just a lucky guess?

The skeleton nodded empathetically as Nalion let his mind wander. Meanwhile, Erevan still hadn’t lowered his bow. The ranger's body remained rigid and ready. Once again Nalions thought process was interrupted, this time by Ilias.

“Could you help us? The people in the town are starving and we’re trying to find this staff that can grow crops extremely fast. Do you know about it?” Ilias asked with a smile.

The skeleton nodded again, then lifted up four bony fingers.

“Four what?” asked Ilias.

The skeleton pointed at the staircase leading upwards.

“Four staircases?” guessed the young mage.

The skeleton shook its head. So it probably couldn’t speak. It must be difficult, trying to communicate without a language, Nalion mused. If only there was a language one could speak with one's hands. Maybe he should develop one.

“Can you write?” Nalion asked excitedly, almost bouncing on the tops of his feet.

The skeleton nodded.

Nalion proceeded to rummage through his bag, finding a quill, some ink and a notebook. Unfortunately he didn’t have any empty notebooks with him, but he could spare some paper from “The Flora and Fauna of Lucca and Their Importance to The Ecosystem: An Introduction”. After all, he had written it and therefore read it several times.

Nalion carefully ripped the last page, which was thankfully empty. He tried to make the rip as neat as possible so that the damage wouldn’t be so obvious. Then he eagerly offered the writing supplies to the skeleton. It took them and they all promptly turned to dust, the flecks slowly circling down to the floor. Nalions stomach sank in disappointment as he mournfully stared at the dust. He’d marred the notebook for nothing. Not to speak of that that had been his last good quill.

The skeleton looked at the dust seeping through the bones on its hand. Abruptly it turned around and began to stiffly make its way to the stairs, vehemently gesturing for the trio to follow. Nalion looked at Erevan and Ilias. Erevan had finally lowered his bow, which was probably a good sign. Though the ranger didn’t let the skeleton out of his sight as he skillfully snatched the bell from Ilias’ unresisting hand.

“Should we follow him?” asked Ilias hesitantly, brown eyes flitting between Nalion and Erevan.

Erevan glared at the human.

“He might know where to find the staff,” Nalion said after a moment of pondering. He was still a bit disappointed at the unnecessary destruction of the notebook. As well as the failed attempt at communication.

Erevan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffed. “Let’s follow Bony.”

Minds made up, the trio walked towards the skeleton with Spiro gliding in the air behind them. The skeleton was waiting silently at the edge of the stairs, going up as they drew nearer. Nalion wondered how Erevan had figured out its name. The seasoned ranger had so many hidden talents.

The elf glanced at the stairs leading down. From up here, halfway up the spiral staircase, he could see further down to where the other stairs led. To his great excitement he spotted even more old books. They too were lying on the ground, their pages torn and scattered along with pieces of wood. A great layer of dust was covering everything down there. It seemed as if there had been shelves upon shelves, all filled with books, that had come crashing down from a great height - and no one had bothered to clean the mess.

Nalion was overcome by a wave of exhilaration. So many books! There were surely some that he had yet to read! He yanked Erevans sleeve enthusiastically and pointed at the books, causing the ranger to sigh again. Nalion took this as permission and started to make his way down, thrilled, only for Erevan to block his way. Erevan was soundlessly shaking his head. It was quite confusing, but Nalion trusted the ranger. He obediently stopped his advance even as his fingers were itching to go check out the titles.

Erevan then thrusted his hand in his pocket, picking up a small rock. He looked at Nalion as if it was Nalions first time adventuring and this was a classic rookie mistake. For someone who mostly communicated via grunts and scowls, Erevan was quite good at expressing his meaning.

Erevan threw the rock. They watched as it bounced from a book to a splintered piece of wood, only to land on the hard marbled floor with a loud clang. The sound echoed in the otherwise deathly silent hall. The dust was stirring, forming small clouds in the air. Nalion held his breath in anticipation. Nothing seemed to be happening.

Just as Nalion decided it was time to sprint and get his hands on some new knowledge, there was another sound. Something was dragging itself towards where the rock had landed. Something big. Suddenly he was extremely thankful to have Erevan. For stopping him from running down in the room but also for the stone trick and demanding the hiding spell. Nalion knew he was considered to be quite smart yet now he was feeling rather stupid.

Nalions thoughts were interrupted as the creature in question came into view. It appeared to be some sort of large reptile, walking on all fours. Next to him, Nalion could hear Ilias drawing in a sharp breath. Most likely the young mage recognised what they were dealing with, which would be a great help. The human muttered a few words under his breath, the faint blue spots appearing in his eyes.

The very moment he was done with whatever spell he had casted, the creature stopped and sniffed at the ground. Ilias then proceeded to fervently yank Nalions sleeve, basically dragging the scrawny elf with him. The young mage did not stop nor did he let go until they were outside of the tower. Erevan followed with his hand on his bow, sharp eyes thunderous.

As they got out Ilias closed the door as quickly as he could, slumping against it in what Nalion assumed was relief. Or maybe he just got tired. The door did look rather heavy.

“What are you doing?” growled Erevan, glaring at the young human.

“That was a basilisk,” said Ilias. His voice was low and serious, his eyes wide in alarm. “I covered up our scent before it realized we were there in the first place. All it takes is a glance and you’re done for.”

Erevan huffed and crossed his arms. The gruff ranger didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t look like he was going to argue any further either.

A basilisk, a basilisk… Nalion had a vague memory that he had once read about how to defeat a basilisk, but he wasn’t quite sure and did not want to gamble with their lives. It would probably be best to head back to the town and see if they had any books on the subject. Just to be sure. Unless Ilias knew?

“Do you know how to fight a basilisk?”

Ilias smiled. Nalion was ready to declare victory. He was eighty percent sure that this meant happiness. And if Ilias was happy then he surely knew what to do.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really remember. I just remember staring at the picture, that’s how I recognised it…” Ilias looked away, an unreadable expression on his face as Erevan scoffed loudly.

Okay, forty percent sure.