Branko and his guard of soldiers stood together in the middle of the small circular room. The artificial yellow hue of the lights in the ceiling washed over Hektor and Eldwin who sat in the middle of the soldiers, restrained with rope. The room’s architecture was much the same as Barbush's. Weak, cracked, and a little soft. Storage crates lined the walls of the room as well as portraits of a man in a brown cloak with the symbol of Wiegraf the White painted over them. There were doors to the front and back, and, in the center where Eldwin and Hektor sat, a prayer circle drawn in chalk. Behind one of the crates near the door to the back of the room was Kin. He remembered the advice Faldo and Kaiser had given him and closed his eyes to prevent their glow from revealing his location. His dark clothing—if the repurposed sack and hood that covered his body could even be called clothing—helped him to blend in with the darkness. The yellow hue of the lights in the ceiling did not reach to the end of the room so well.
One of the soldiers approached Hektor. “Bastard!” The soldier kicked Hektor in the belly, sending the aged priest down to the ground. “What did you do!?” The soldier descended to Hektor, beating his face into the ground. The soft, pudgy skin of the aged priest crumpled to the ruthless blows.
“Quit this at once!” Branko ordered as he wrapped his arms around the soldier’s and flung him off of Hektor.
The soldier quickly scrambled back up, shaken by Branko’s strength. Everyone else looked over to him. He was thin, with a gaunt face and a perfectly assembled Drauxian army uniform on his body. He was one of the few soldiers in the squad of nine who chose to wear a red tie under his dull yellow service tunic.
“Why should I? Didn’t the rest of you see it? He used some sort of sorcery to blind us. Then, this coward,” he said pointing to Eldwin, “He shoots one of our comrades and all of a sudden, all of us are brought here!”
“We still have no idea what Eldwin did. There’s no records in the libraries at Golodia of magics that can transport people to another place.”
“And what of Hektor? Should we just let him go? He collaborated with Eldwin. Even if we don’t know just what he did, we still know he did it. And, it wouldn’t have been possible without Hektor helping him.”
Branko spoke in a slower, more precarious tone. “Calm yourself, Olyn. Killing Hektor won’t help us. If what brought us here really was some sort of magic, then having one more person who’s knowledgeable about magic, especially about one that we’ve never heard of before, is the key to escaping this place.”
“How can I stay calm?” Olyn asked. “You saw that beast we encountered down the hallway through that door,” he said, referring to the door in the front of the room. “Didn’t you see how it cut Marcus to bits with just a swing of that. . . ‘arm’.”
“I was there just as you were. . . and I am sorry. I’m sorry for the loss of another comrade, I truly am. But, there’s no point in getting any kind of revenge on Hektor.”
“So we’ll just use him. . .?”
“If that’s how you want to put it—yes. We’ll use him to try and get out of here.”
“That I’m fine with, but what about him?” Olyn asked as he gestured to Eldwin.
Eldwin chuckled. He was slumped over, facing Hektor’s bloodied face.
“Do you think that’s funny?” Olyn asked as he walked in front of Eldwin.
“Not this matter. Something else.”
Olyn kneeled down to meet Eldwin eye to eye. Eldwin’s head perked up and he met Olyn’s murderous gaze with his own cold eyes.
“What now? Are you to persecute me as well?”
“Not now,” Branko said.
“Lieutenant Branko, he’ll also be charged once we get back to Golodia, right?”
“Yes, Olyn. He will live through this. But, he won’t receive any freedoms after.”
“Oh, what poor sports you are,” Eldwin mockingly said.
“Didn’t you hear him?” Olyn snarled. “You’re going to prison along with that bastard on the floor.”
“I’m not deaf. Of course I heard him. I just think it’s comedic that you believe you hold the power here.”
“Hold the power. . . what do you mean by that?”
“I was the one that brought us here. I am the only one with the power to bring all of you back to the physical planes.”
“Physical planes? Just what are you babbling about?” Olyn asked.
“You’d think the Drauxian military would know more about all things magic after they ‘relocated’ all those Glascanian priests over to their side.”
“Just say what you mean,” Olyn demanded.
“Must I?” Eldwin asked as he looked over to Branko.
“Get whatever information you can out of him,” Branko told Olyn. He turned to the rest of the soldiers. “Everyone: start unpacking the crates in this room. It’s possible they might have food and water in them.”
“Speak,” Olyn ordered Eldwin.
“Alright, alright!” Eldwin laughed. “You are familiar with Zett’yrii magics, no?”
“Of course. They’re legends in Drauxian storytelling. But, they’re nothing more than legends. What you did to bring us here had to be some sort of. . . ‘twisting’ of the natural order of things. There’s no way that was Wiegrafian magic.”
“On the contrary. It does exist, but only a select few have the natural prowess to wield it. All I did was use a small blood sacrifice to use Barbush as the nexus point for bringing all of you to this place. The barrier between the physical and outer planes just happened to be thin in Barbush. Strangely, even this place does not exist completely within the outer planes. It’s special in that way.”
“Outer planes? What nonsense are you trying to fill my head with?”
“Say what you will, but I’m telling the truth. Where we are—Strakhan—it exists as a middle ground between the real world and the outer planes.”
Olyn stood back up and shook his head. “Is that all?”
“If you’re satisfied. I’ve no qualms with informing you all about your predicament.”
“You’re trapped in here with us,” Olyn said. “This is your problem as well.”
“On the contrary. Where you have no intent to grasp this place, only desiring your baser freedom of its grasp, I know much more than you will ever hope to know about this place.”
“And what else do you know?” Olyn asked.
“Strakhan is built like a circle. No matter what you think the layout of it is, it is always circular. The center is where you will find your freedom.”
“Really?” Branko interrupted. “Pardon me, Olyn. You need to help everyone else with unpacking the crates, then sorting everything out. I can speak to him from here.”
Olyn dejectedly turned around and walked over to a group of three soldiers attempting to move one of the larger crates off of two others.
Branko looked down at Eldwin. “Do you know Strakhan’s layout?”
“Not at all.”
“What about the thing that attacked us earlier? Do you have any knowledge on that?”
Eldwin thought for a moment before responding. “The work of Draux. That is all I know about its origins.”
“How so?” Branko asked. “That thing defies all logic and reasoning.”
“It doesn’t. You merely failed to kill it with the right weapon.”
“What is the right weapon? How do you know so much about it if it was made by Draux?”
“Magic. Hektor has no idea how to use it for the sake of combat. Now, that cleric. . . He should know plenty about weaponizing Wiegrafian magic.”
Branko nodded, trying to comprehend all the information being given to him. He walked over to one of the smaller crates nearby, taking a seat on it as he gave orders to two soldiers on standby to treat Hektor in any way they could.
“Why’d you do it?” Branko asked Eldwin.
“You lack the ability to grasp why I did it. Even if I told you, it wouldn’t mean anything. You’d think I'm mad. ”
Branko stood back up and wiped his forehead. “Very well.”
Without warning, the door to the front of the room swung open. The other side of it stretched into an infinite darkness. From the darkness emerged Kaiser. Once he stepped through the door, it shut. Kaiser, having only freshly awoken, stood bewildered at the sight of people. He thought that he’d never see other people again in the wretched halls of the labyrinth.
“Hello?” Kaiser meekly asked.
“Just who you want!” Eldwin exclaimed. “Well? I told you of his importance, Branko. You want to survive? Take him.”
Branko shut Eldwin up with a quick shush and slowly walked towards Kaiser.
“Listen, Kaiser, we’re not going to hurt you.”
Kaiser backed up, eventually hitting the door behind him. “Why should I trust what you say?”
“It might be difficult to explain, but we’re not in some basement. No, this place is far more malicious than any dungeons or scapes you could think of. We are. . . inside Strakhan.”
“Strakhan? As-in the Drauxian fort? But, that’s just a rumor spread by the government to cover the tracks of the military leaders.”
“That’s just a coincidence. The Strakhan fabricated by the government and the one that we’re in are not the same. This place is real. It’s genuine. And, if we don’t work together, it will kill all of us. Eldwin and Hektor are still alive because they have more knowledge about this sort of topic. They serve a purpose to us.”
“Hektor. . . Eldwin. . . I remember it now. . .” Kaiser’s hand shook with frustration. His memories were still blurry. Trying to recall the events before being placed in Strakhan felt like trying to wade through a sea of mist with nothing but one’s fingers. Kaiser fell to one knee.
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Branko rushed over to Kaiser. “Are you alright?” He asked, attempting to help him up to which Kaiser declined his assistance, rolling down onto the ground.
Eldwin grinned as he analyzed the situation. He saw Kaiser’s pained expression—how he held his head tight as if it was ringing with pressure—and he looked on with satisfaction.
“Olyn! Get over here!” Branko ordered as Olyn hurried over to Kaiser. “Try to get medical supplies from the other soldiers. If you can, make a bed. This man is vital to our escape from this place, understood?”
Olyn nodded his head, saluted Branko, and began inspecting all the other crate stations to see if any of the soldiers had found the supplies they needed.
Caligula stumbled through the door Kaiser had come from. Everyone paused to look over at him.
“Is this everyone?” Caligula asked calmly.
“Apprehend him,” Branko ordered before turning to Olyn. “Take Kaiser to the next room over. We’ll handle Caligula,” he said as Olyn nodded and, with the help of another, picked Kaiser up to take him through the back door of the room.
“Now, Eldwin,” Caligula said.
Eldwin grinned and bit his lip, drawing a stream of blood. Everyone else was too focused on Caligula to pay any attention to Caligula’s order and the subsequent act of Eldwin. However, Caligula certainly noticed a change. He produced two needles from his pocket—the same ones he had used to pick his cuffs.
“Stand down, Caligula. Now is not the time to fight.”
“For me it is,” Caligula said as the two needles in his hand fused together into a singular shape. “Good choice, Eldwin.”
Branko and the rest of the soldiers aimed their pistols at Caligula’s torso. They still had the intent to take him alive if possible.
“This is your last chance. Put your hands behind your back and bend down, now!” Branko bellowed.
Caligula remained unfettered in the face of Branko’s wrath. He took a single step forward, and, without hesitation, Branko fired three shots at his chest. Caligula recoiled back but, upon examining himself, was fine. Eldwin’s gambit had worked and his magics had made Caligula’s uniform solid enough to endure their fire. Eldwin’s Zett’yrii magics caused the warping metal—once Caligula’s needles—to form itself into a dagger as long as his forearm. Even without having the proper quantity of materials to transmute its shape, a man of Eldwin’s skill would be able to supplement the lack of material through a much greater sacrifice.
Hektor looked up from the ground. The blood on his face from Olyn’s assault was gone, used to fuel Eldwin’s magics. He uttered the word, “Light,” having carved a secret prayer circle in his right hand.
The soldiers were bathed in a torrent of bright light. All of them save for Caligula, who was protected by the protective magics Eldwin had cast on him before, blindly fired in their dazed panic. Caligula—swift as he was—had already rung his dagger through the necks of five of Branko’s men before the blinding whiteness that plagued their eyes subsided. He quickly plundered one of their pistols, firing off on the rest who, while recovered, were still too confused to fight back against Caligula.
When Caligula went to shoot Branko, the mountain of a man had already moved up to him and grabbed his wrist, crushing it with his large hand like how a giant would seize a child’s. Branko grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the dagger and squeezed it with such force Caligula had no choice but to drop the dagger and stop resisting. He cried in pain as Branko pushed him to the ground and onto his knees, but he maintained a look of fury in his face as he stared up at Branko.
“Light,” Hektor uttered as another blinding flash came. But, much to the surprise of Caligula, Branko covered his eyes before they could be caught in the flash.
To cover his eyes, Branko had let go of Caligula’s dagger arm. Caligula shivved him good in the gut several times before Branko launched a devastating blow to his face, sending Caligula flying back onto Hektor and Eldwin.
Branko panted and felt his wounds. There were six—all deep—scattered on his lower torso. But, no blood drained from them. Eldwin had used it to complete another of his spells, blessing Caligula.
Branko nearly tripped as he dashed over to Caligula. He moved to crush the small soldier’s head with his boot, but Caligula rolled off the ground and got back up. He lunged at Branko who desperately took the blow with one of his arms. The pain from the stabbing reached even his bones. Eldwin’s magics had gifted Caligula such strength he had pushed the dagger through Branko’s arm, eviscerating it as the blade’s end approached Branko’s face with every steep push Caligula gave. Branko snatched Caligula by the neck with his free arm and kept him at a distance so as to keep the dagger from being pushed further through his arm. He began to squeeze the life out of Caligula’s neck with just the slightest pressure. Finally, after Caligula stopped struggling and he heard a resounding snap, he threw his body aside and crumpled to the ground, huddling over as he kept his eviscerated arm close to his body.
“Well done,” Eldwin said as he nodded in approval at the scene.
Caligula’s vision which had turned black with death returned to normal. He gasped as he realized that he was still alive and felt his neck for any wounds. There were still marks left by Branko’s fingerprints, but other than that, he was completely fine.
“How?” Branko asked as he struggled to not fall onto his back. “What twisted magics are these?”
“I already told you,” Eldwin said as he beckoned Caligula over to him with a quick jerk of his head, untying the ropes that bound his legs and hands. Eldwin stood up and dusted himself off. “The soul is a vital part of the body. The soul can exist in a vacuum by itself, but the body cannot.”
“I’m going to the back room,” Caligula said as he headed for the door Olyn had taken Kaiser through.
Eldwin looked down at Branko but still kept his distance. Even in such a state, he knew that Branko would have little trouble choking the life out of his body as he had to Caligula—that Caligula was only victorious because Branko was unfortunate enough to not have his knife. Eldwin himself could barely stand. The Zettish magics had taken a toll on his body. His legs were wobbly, and his head spun, dizzied.
“Why. . .?” Branko sputtered in-between his futile struggles to breathe and regain composure.
“You really don’t know?” Eldwin chuckled as he took a step away from Branko who, in his desperation, continued to slowly crawl toward him. “You said that the true purpose of your visit to Barbush was the child with Kaiser. I’m aware of the true meaning of your words, so how are you unaware?”
“They didn’t tell me anything. . . Just the orders to come here and be on the lookout for that kid. . .” Branko’s arms failed him. He coughed up and sputtered thick, hardened blood from his throat.
“Really now?” Eldwin asked as he opened the door Caligula went through. “What a shame,” he said, shutting it behind him.
The room was small with checkered tiles. Beyond the several meters or so of open space with nothing but Kaiser and Olyn in the middle of it, darkness stretched out infinitely. In the four shadowy corners of the room, made only by that formless darkness, stood tall lamps that emitted a yellow hue.
“Stay back!” Olyn shouted at Eldwin and Caligula. He drew his pistol and aimed it at them. “One more step and I’ll shoot!”
Caligula raised his dagger. Olyn poised himself. Kaiser was still unconscious and laying on the ground. Olyn was on his knees in a ready position. Caligula stabbed the palm of his own hand, drawing blood. He cupped his hands together to keep the blood from spilling onto the ground. It formed a small crimson pool in Caligula’s hands.
Meanwhile, Olyn still tried to shake Kaiser awake. He had only managed to scavenge for bandages and disinfectants. There was little in the way of medicine to better Kaiser’s condition. But, Olyn wasn’t even sure what his condition was. He lacked the equipment to properly diagnose him and, from the few rudimentary ways he could deduce his sickness, everything about Kaiser’s loss of consciousness baffled him. It was completely unnatural—as if Kaiser’s ailment was the work of something mystical he could not comprehend.
Eldwin dipped his palm into the small pool of blood Caligula cupped between his hands. He raised it and aimed it at Olyn who, in response, did nothing. The two hadn’t advanced just as Olyn demanded and he perceived no threat from their acts, only hints of insanity from both of them.
At Eldwin’s mental command, a vortex that eluded all human eyes formed right on Olyn’s chest. Though Olyn could not see the vortex, his baser instincts—his soul itself—flared and sent him into a wild panic. In his panic, he fired twice at Eldwin, hitting him in his raised arm. Eldwin staggered, tripping and falling to the ground in pain. The vortex had been displaced through Eldwin’s break of concentration, and it now focused itself on Olyn’s arm.
In an instant, an eruption of energy obliterated a three inch segment of flesh along Olyn’s forearm, severing it from his body. Olyn screamed in pain as blood began to rapidly pour from his half-severed arm. His breathing quickened to such a pace it was impossible to tell when he inhaled and exhaled. He fell to the ground and curled up, embracing his mutilated arm in hopes the pain would subside.
Olyn’s screaming awoke Kaiser. He snatched Olyn’s fallen pistol off the ground and aimed it at Caligula. “What the hell’s going on here!?”
“The child—where is he?” Caligula asked.
“No idea. But, you best explain yourself. I’m the one with the gun.”
They could barely speak through Olyn’s cries of pain. Kaiser was too focused to divert any attention to the wailing Olyn who eventually ceased making noise on his own.
“Hmm. . .” Caligula grumbled, looking down at Eldwin who contained his urge to produce noises of pain and focused on keeping his wounds from bleeding him out.
Before Caligula could finish his thought, the door behind him and Eldwin opened. It was Kin who stood there, silent and watching.
“Oh?” Caligula quickly turned his head, seeing it was Kin.
“Kin?” Kaiser looked beyond Caligula. “Quick, to me!”
Caligula made no attempts to stop Kin from rushing over to Kaiser. Once he did, Kaiser wrapped one of his arms around him while still training his pistol over Caligula’s center mass.
Without any warning, the lamps in the room shut off, leaving the darkness to take everything. The room, no, what was actually a platform sitting in that endless darkness began to rapidly descend
“What’s happening!?” Kin yelped in fear.
“Stay close!” Kaiser yelled, the speed of the descent being great enough to force him to raise his voice.
“Amazing. . .” Eldwin muttered to himself, staying down with his hands on his head. “Fantastic progress, Caligula!”
Caligula got down, preparing for a sudden impact at any moment. “What’re you talking about?” He yelled to Eldwin.
“This is the true way to traverse Strakhan. This is the creaking throat of the Messiah of White, the passage for which we enter into oblivion!”
Everyone stopped speaking as they could feel the descent ending. The yellow hue of a light came forth.
The darkness that had taken Eldwin, Caligula, Olyn, Kaiser, and Kin was so intense they felt as if slumber had been induced upon them. Truly, the descent had not yet ended. Their conscious states had only dulled to the point of being unable to perceive the rapid movement of the platform. The yellow hue was not the light of another hall, but rather the light of a being that stood in the center of the platform.
“Great one,” Eldwin muttered as he struggled to sit on his knees. “I will answer your prayers.”
“There are others who wish to answer them,” said the being which was invisible to the eyes of humanity. “You all who drift between the realm of dream and reality, in this place which drifts between void and physical, perceive my voice but not my form. This yellow hue is all you may understand, all you may hope to understand. It is the only possible way for your eyes to comprehend me.”
The information made little sense even when spoken. The voice of the mass of yellow hue distorted into an incomprehensible jargon when perceived by all except Kin, who nodded in agreement with what the yellow hue spoke of.
“Why do your words elude me?” Eldwin asked as he looked hopelessly up at the being.
“I weep for your lack of understanding. This was never the intention. Explorers of the outer regions—come so far—yet too submerged in the stew of humanity to understand.”
Kin shook his head. “I understand,” he said in his meek voice.
“You do?” Eldwin asked as tears almost formed in his eyes. “Then you are the messiah.”
“Messiah?” Kaiser stared deep into the yellow hue. “What’s he talking about?”
The yellow hue gave no answer to the question. Only Kin understood its indecipherable words. Only his ears perceived its holy sound as language. Only his soul could read the inhumanity of the being, of the god.
“Bienvenu. This is his voice,” Kin said as he cowered to Kaiser.
“Bienvenu is just a man. How can he be any more? How can he be this?” Hektor asked Kin.
“He spoke to me before. . . He locked me in a cage.”
“I apologize for the sins of I. You must understand, little one. You must understand that hope itself is I. Just as I am conflict, as I am war. Embodying both, it was my duty to create you, little one. Now you will embody hope.”
Now, Eldwin stared at Kaiser with a newfound hope in his eyes.
“Do you know what this means? He speaks to the boy and the boy comprehends. He can communicate with him,” Eldwin spoke to Kaiser.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Kaiser replied. His fist began to shake. “All I know is you’re not taking Kin with you. You’re not going to hurt them.”
“Hurt them?” Eldwin was outraged by the words. “The yellow hue—the center of this place—speaks to him. The will of Strakhan has chosen that boy as its herald. No harm can come to him. He is the messiah.”
“Farewell, explorers of the outer regions,” the yellow mass boomed. “The Wayward Lift ends its descent soon. Come, come quick. To the third level you must go. This must end in the city of fear.”
The godly presence of the yellow hue subsided, as well as its ethereal golden glow. Darkness reigned once again. The four lamps in the corner of the platform switched back on, illuminating the area weakly with their artificial yellow hue. Now, in their complete consciousness, everyone felt the lift begin to slow. It was no trick of the mind. The platform had finally stopped in a new sea of darkness.