They rode through the wreckage of the plaza as fast as they could, making a beeline for the second ring of the city. They had yet to see any of the monsters, but their howls and screams echoed all around them, encroaching closer and closer.
When they breached through the gates, their fears were confirmed. Small bands of wraiths and wights were already gathering in the streets, milling back and forth in their macabre mockery of routine life. As they watched, more and more emerged from whatever holes they had been hiding, and Jasper realized they would soon be cut off, if they weren't already. If only I had taken that cavalry skill, I could've punched a hole right through them. Jasper pushed the regret away. No point in crying over spilled milk.
He turned to Ihra, “What do you think? We can try to charge through the crowd and hope we can make it to the gate, but I don’t like our chances.”
She pointed to a building on their left. It was a two-story house, much like the others that lined the streets, but along the side, an exterior staircase led up to the roof. “What if we went up? Most of the houses here have flat roofs and are pretty close together.”
He looked back down the street. The crowd of wraiths had already doubled in the short time they had stopped. There’s no way we’d make it through that crowd. With a sigh, he agreed. “Alright, let’s try it.”
The stairs were just wide enough to allow them to guide their horses up to the roof. The snow and ice that had covered the second ring of the city were melting fast in the balmy weather of the void, and Jasper nearly fell flat on his face when he stepped on a wet slick of ice. “Careful,” he warned.
They re-mounted the horses and rode over to the edge. The next building was only three or four feet away - clearly, there were no fire codes in ancient Als̆arratu. Unlike the streets below, the roofs were devoid of wraiths or wights. Dapplegrim snorted, pawing at the ground with nervous energy. He chuckled and patted her neck. “You ready girl? Alright, giddy-up.”
They soared over the short gap, and landed on the next roof, skidding slightly on the treacherous surface. But Dapplegrim regained her traction quickly, and picked her way across the rooftop. Jasper gulped when he saw the gap between the next two houses. It was definitely bigger. Much bigger. But a glance at the streets below confirmed that going down was definitely not an option, unless he was looking to die in a blaze of glory. "Alright, Dapplegrim, you can do this." She rewarded his faith, clearing the gap with unexpected ease.
Their pace across the rooftops was slow and inconsistent. The gaps between buildings were not always jumpable, so they were forced to take a winding route through the city, at times deviating far from the main path. Truthfully, Jasper felt better the farther they were from the main road, as most of the wraiths seemed to have congregated there. But as they neared the second gate, they could no longer avoid the crowded corridor.
The plaza leading to the gate was completely filled with monsters. They jostled together, screeching and shouting, like a flock of birds fighting over the last seed. But there was something different about the crowd, Jasper realized. Some of the monsters seemed almost intelligent, as if some soul still lurked in the desecrated corpses. Could the ritual be slowly restoring them?
Finally, Ihra shook her head, regret washing over her face. “I don’t think there’s any way we can force our way through the gate. We’re going to have to climb over the walls.”
“How are we going to get the horses over the walls?”
She hesitated for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders in defeat. “We’re not.”
Jasper rebelled at the thought. Dapplegrim may have been given to him from the guild as an insult, but he loved the little pony, and the thought of leaving her behind to die, did not sit well with him. “No, there’s got to be another way. Maybe there's a ramp leading up to the top-” He trailed off as he realized the problem with his suggestion. But there definitely wouldn't be a ramp on the other side, though. As he futilely scanned his surroundings for another option, he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart that she was right.
Their argument was cut short when the sound of a sonorous horn swelled through the city streets. The horn was not particularly loud, but its voice somehow reached every inch of the city. Its low, rumbling cry shook him to his core, making the very bones of his body ache. If he had not been sitting in the saddle, Jasper thought he might have fallen to the ground from the pressure. “What the hell is that?”
Like one, the creatures in the street snapped to attention, turning their eyes up to the top of the city, toward the temple of Selene. The great Tower of Ysagila was transformed into a pillar of light so bright that it was as if the sun had descended on the surface of the peak. The horn grew louder and louder, till the city itself shook with the force of its thunder. Jasper fought for consciousness, stars dancing before his eyes, as the world crumbled around him. Chunks of plaster and rock fell from the buildings, crushing the skulls of more than a few of the creatures, but the creatures appeared undisturbed, transfixed by the unearthly siren. And then silence fell.
The creatures crowding the streets began to march, the unwieldy mob slowly falling into order, as they marched up the main road like an army on parade. Ihra and Jasper watched from the rooftops for hours as the wraiths streamed through the gate, a river running in reverse up the mountain to the temple at the peak. Even after the last of the horde had passed, they kept watch for some time, afraid of running into stragglers.
After an hour of watching, though, they realized the streets really were empty. Leading their mounts back down to the streets, they galloped through the gates of the second ring. The lower city, far larger than the top rings, was also much harder to navigate. Streets wound their way back and forth along the mountain’s slopes, clearly built in a time before urban planning. As they raced through the empty city, time and again they found themselves reaching yet another dead end, forced to turn around. As the hours passed with no sign of dawn, it became clear that there was no night or day in the void, just the relentless darkness outside the walls and the mysterious light within.
Eventually, they were forced to rest as their horses were wet with sweat, trembling from their mad dash through the streets. They rubbed them down, and let them rest.
Jasper lay on the ground, slumping against a wall while they waited. He futilely searched the inky black sky for even the faintest sign of a star.
It was Ihra who broke the silence. “I don’t think we can even escape. We’re in a void - even if we make it to the city gates, is there anything outside the walls?”
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He ignored her, chewing on his lip as he tried to think of a way out. Aphora really screwed us over. Nothing came to mind. With a sigh, he shook his head. “I don’t know, Ihra. We could try to take refuge in one of the temples and hope their seals still work in the void. But we don’t have enough food to last more than a few weeks. Even if the seals do work, we’d be postponing our deaths at best. If we find the expedition from the guild, maybe one of them would know how to escape here - assuming they haven’t already done it.”
She didn’t respond, balling her hands into fists. Tears ran down her face, splashing on the pavement below as she silently wept. “I’m sorry.”
Jasper started. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I’m the one who chose this job. If you had picked, we would have done some easy bandit jobs, and be resting comfortably in the sanctum right now, sleeping peacefully in a warm bed. We’re going to die because I wanted to work for someone important.”
Gently, he brushed away the tears running down her cheeks. “Listen to me. This is not your fault. Ever since I got to this world, it’s been trying to kill me. I almost blew myself up the first time I used my spells. I got press-ganged into taking a simple quest to cull some trolls, and ended up trapped in a haunted city with a Gemlirian army. We stopped at an inn for a good night’s sleep, and got tricked into taking a quest from cultists who wanted to eat our hearts and feed on our souls. If we had taken that bandit quest, I have no doubt that it would somehow have gone wrong. When we got there, the bandits would probably have turned out to be shapeshifting dragons who wanted to enslave us as pets for their kids, or some equally ridiculous threat. This is not your fault.”
He straightened up and held his hand out to her. “But we’re not going to die here. We’re going to find the guild expedition and escape this city, even if we have to drag it out of the void ourselves.”
She smiled through her tears and took his hand. He pulled up her, and they got back on their mounts. They set a less hectic pace through the city, no longer driven by the fear of the vanished undead. The path down was still hard to find, but eventually, a welcome guide appeared: the smell of bacon frying over a fire.
The guild had taken up residence in an old inn near the city gates. The building was still in remarkably good shape, despite the centuries that had elapsed, although the walls around its courtyard had seen better days. A number of people were gathered around a merry fire that crackled in the courtyard. They looked up as Jasper and Ihra entered the crumbled arch, leading their horses behind them. The guild members leapt to their feet in an instant, reaching for their weapons, but they stayed their hands when they saw the guild uniforms Jasper and Ihra wore.
The leader stepped forward. “Who are you?”
Jasper raised his hands, showing he carried no weapons. “We came with you to the city. Remember, with Lady Aphora?” He pointed to his uniform. “We’re members of the guild, just like you.”
The crew around the fireplace relaxed, but the leader held firm. “And where is the elf?”
Jasper shrugged. “I don’t know. We got separated when the city got sucked into the void, but I think she’s still alive.”
The leader scowled. “Well, isn’t that convenient. A magical disaster happens, and the elf you were with just happens to disappear. Find somewhere else to go.”
Jasper sagged, disappointment coursing through them. But as they turned to go, one of the guild members stood up from the fire. He was a large man with a shaggy beard and bulging biceps, which were offset by his equally bulging belly. He clapped his giant hand on the expedition leader’s shoulder. “Come now, Ga’on, be reasonable. They are guild members like us, and sending them away would be tantamount to a death sentence.”
Ga’on turned, an irate look on his face. “We can’t trust them,” he hissed. “They could kill us all in our sleep.”
The man snorted. “Last I checked, the city is filled with the undead, not shapeshifters. Selene’s Grace, Ga’on. They traveled to the city with us. Even if the elf is somehow responsible for what happened here, do you really think that that little mage, who struggled to burn down some brambles on the city gates, is a threat to us?”
Jasper squirmed, as his pride took a blow, but he held his silence.
After a moment, the anger on Ga’on’s face faded away, and his shoulders sagged a little. Weariness bled into his words. “You’re right, Omez. I just want to keep what remains of our people safe.” He turned back to Jasper and Ihra. “Alright, you can stay.”
The mood around the fire was awkward at first, but as the wine flowed, the tensions faded away. Omez sat down beside them, a drink in his hand.
“Sorry about that, laddie. Ga’on means well. Our expedition was going splendidly until the disaster happened. We lost seven of our own when the creatures suddenly woke up, and if that blasted horn hadn't called them all away, we probably all would've perished. Our group is just a little on edge, and mourning the loss of our companions.”
Jasper nodded. “I get it. I’m sorry about your companions.”
Omez grimaced. “That’s the risk of a job like this. But none of them had died before, so it's possible that they might be able to negotiate a resurrection. Selene willing, perhaps they’ll return. But for now, we mourn.” He hesitated, before continuing. “We’re going to have a little ceremony to send them off. It might rub people wrong if you participate, understand?”
At that moment, one of the ladies returned to the fire circle, holding a lute in her hands. A hush fell across the group, as she begin to sing.
The silent halls lie waiting for return of one long lost
Their desire, quiet aching, for the Lord of Mirth and Frost
The courts that once with silver spun reflected Selene’s rays
Whose walls bounced back the joyous songs of winter solstice days
Are now left dark and desolate, the sacred log lies cold
The tallow lights which bled so bright have crumbled into mold
The music stilled, the dance undone, the ritual fulfilled
The Winter Warrior’s peace was won, his victory was sealed.
But when dark days again shall fall, when Sol’s in cairn enclosed
The Lord of Winter steadfast stands against the dark ones’ boasts
His mirth and cheer drew all beings near, their love his sword of woe
That shines amidst the sunless skies, a warning to the foe
And there within his splendid halls, where joy and pleasure flow,
The endless tides of summoned souls set free the warrior Sol.
His work now done, his time now passed, regretfully he goes.
The Lord of Mirth and Frost lies down, to slumber neath the snow.
The entire group joined in on the chorus.
All hail the Lord of Mirth and Frost, valiant peer of Sol
His victory bought at utmost cost, he slumbers neath the snow
The songs flowed, one into the other, like rivulets merging into a mighty river, and Jasper listened, spell cast. When the bard finally fell silent, Ga’on stood up and held his cup high. “To the Victorious Dead! May the Halls of the Dead embrace them! May their forces ever aid the righteous!”
“To the Victorious Dead!” The group all drank deeply from their cups, but did not fully drain them. Instead, each one tossed a portion of their wine into the fire, muttering a blessing for their lost companions.
“May Barkha feast in the halls of the dead.”
“May Marah ever find favor before our Lady.”
“Tsiāhu watch over my brother.”
Jasper and Ihra watched the ceremony in silence. Guilt ate at his heart. Logically, he knew that there was nothing he could have done to stop Aphora, but he still felt responsible for their plight. Beneath his breath, he muttered a wish. “Kas̆dael, let me right the wrongs done today.” The goddess, if she heard, gave no response, but a peace fell over him. What was done, was done, but there was always another day, another chance to do things better.