Over the next few hours, the group slowly and methodically made their way towards the center of the city. Each time Simon sensed a group of the creatures prowling nearby, they would have the Soul Weaver spider skitter forward as a decoy while Simon and Professor Alrik prepared their spells. Luckily, each group they encountered only had four of the creatures and they all followed the same attack pattern of having two glide up to the tops of buildings and two flank the spider from the sides. Between the pit traps and the flare to daze the airborne creatures, they were able to take out all of the creatures with relative ease.
Only once did Gabe have to use his healing magic and that was when the spider took a nasty gash along its side from one of the upper creatures from that group who was able to partially resist Professor Alrik’s flare. Rather than crashing into the side of a building or to the ground, it had been able to maintain its course and land on top of the spider and knock it to the side, raking its claws through the spider's tough skin in the process. A couple quick blasts of Ray of Light from Professor Alrik took care of the beast and Gabe was able to rush in and Repair the spider’s wounds before it lost too much blood.
Occasionally they would rest in one of the buildings to recover their mana after a fight. So far, every building they entered was just as the first had been, devoid of anything but a few scattered pieces of furniture. Even Professor Alrik’s spells weren’t able to uncover any additional hidden items. Despite their early success at finding the journal, it appeared that there wasn’t anything else of its kind remaining in the city. While Professor Alrik in particular was disappointed that there wasn’t anything else to provide more information about the Vlatiryx, the journal itself proved to be a veritable treasure trove of information.
During their rests in the abandoned buildings, the old gnome would spend his time reading through the faded yellow pages of the journal. He didn’t read aloud every entry, instead opting to only share the ones that had relevant information. In truth, this was because the novelty of the discovery of the journal quickly wore off for Gabe and Simon. While it was fun to speculate on the powersets and possible spells used by the different classes, as Simon named them, that were mentioned in the journal, hearing a woman’s private fears and worries regarding the crisis that was befalling her people made the two young men feel as if they were intruding on something they shouldn’t.
They recognized that the information in the journal was key to them finding the repository of magical knowledge they hoped would forestall the war prophesied in Professor Alrik’s vision, they just didn’t want to be the ones digging through the journal for clues they needed. Luckily Professor Alrik had no qualms with reading the woman’s journal, something about “the noble art of the scholar”.
It was in the third building they rested in, some kind of shop given by the counter that stretched around one side of the large room and the single door that led to a smaller room with faded marks along the walls that indicated shelves used to hang there, that Professor Alrik came across the piece of information that finally clued them in on what they were looking for.
Simon was in the process of teaching Gabe a dice game he used to play with the dockhands when waiting for his father’s ship to come in using a set of five eight-sided dice he conjured from the stone floor of the shop. Every number from zero to forty corresponded to a monster with a different mana affinity and varying levels of strength. The rules were simple enough, each player rolled one die per round. Starting with the second round, they could either add or subtract the number on the die to their previous roll, so long as the resulting number wasn’t negative. The goal was to end the fifth round with a monster that could beat your opponents and apparently, there was a whole chart that detailed the winner of every match-up, but Simon was just going off his memory.
“And with a final roll of five, which I will add to my previous score of twenty-seven, I end up with thirty-two, the deadly Frost Wraith,” said Simon.
“Let me guess, that means you win again,” sighed Gabe. This was the fourth round they’d played and so far Simon had ‘won’ every time.
“Well of course,” agreed Simon. “You can’t think your lowly Forest Gnoll would be able to stand up to the might of my Frost Wraith. Even without any bonus applied due to the mana typings, my wraith has an attack of +3 and your gnoll is only +2. The math is simple my junior apprentice.”
“What’s simple is you’re cheating. Either by controlling the die as they roll or just by making up what monster each number corresponds to, maybe even both,” grumbled Gabe.
Simon placed his hand across his chest in mock outrage. “Why Gabriel, I would never even think about cheating. For you to accuse me of such a thing, why I just can’t see how I could ever get past this.”
From the playful twinkle in his eyes, Gabe knew Simon was just messing with him. And truthfully, he was playing his own part as well. He didn’t mind losing nearly as much as he let on. Maybe if they were betting money like Simon said he used to do on the docks he’d care more about the game being fair, but for now it was just a fun way to relax as they explored the city. Even though they fell into a solid rhythm when fighting the creatures, each encounter still caused Gabe’s pulse to race and he appreciated having the time to decompress after a fight.
“Alright, alright, I’ll take it back. You’re not cheating, you’re just exceptionally lucky at rolling dice that you created out of a substance you have dedicated your entire magical career learning to manipulate for a game that has more than a thousand different endings that only you know. Definitely no cheating involved there.”
“See,” beamed Simon. “I just knew you were a quick study. Keep it up and you’ll be well on your way to Junior Apprentice Rank 2.”
“Do I even want to know how many ranks of Junior Apprentice there are?” asked Gabe.
“Nope,” winked Simon. “Want to play another round of Dice Monsters?”
Professor Alrik, who had been reading through the journal in a stone chair Simon conjured for him a few yards away from where Simon and Gabe were playing their game, took that moment to speak up.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Before you begin, there is something here that I think you both would be very interested to hear.”
The playfulness on Simon’s face was exchanged for one of curiosity as he stood and made his way over to his Master. Gabe quickly followed suit and once the two young men were next to him, Professor Alrik began reading aloud.
“7th day of Yarlen. Hope is beginning to bloom in Daerlym once more. Elder Yermal announced this morning that he and his fellow Enchanters have discovered a way to rekindle the flames of power that have been extinguished in so many. The answer has been in front of our noses this whole time, in fact, I am using it this very second as I write these words! Even the youngest child knows that Starmetal resonates with the echos of Vlateria, but Elder Yermal has figured out how to focus those echos into a true copy of our lineages. I saw it with my own eyes as Elder Nalos, wearing a simple bracelet weaved of Starmetal threads and standing atop the parapets of the citadel, was able to once more summon a Stellar Aegis. Oh, it was truly wondrous to be able to see the stars again within his spell. According to Elder Yermal, it should only be a matter of time before all of us who have been disconnected from the stars can wield our magics again. I can’t wait for the day when I get to feel the warmth of the flame as it dances between my fingers.”
“That is interesting Master. It sounds like they were able to figure out a workaround for the issues that were causing the Vlateryx to lose access to their spellforms, and from the description, ‘Starmetal’ must be how they referred to Spellsteel. But it does make me wonder,” Simon paused there a moment as he collected his thoughts before continuing. “If they had a solution, why did their civilization collapse the way it did? I had assumed that the loss of their magics led to a civil war of sorts that resulted in all the settlements being destroyed, but that doesn’t seem to be a good theory anymore.”
“Very good observation Simon, I had many of the same questions myself,” replied Professor Alrik with a smile. “The truth of what happened soon became clear, however. I read that last entry to you to provide some context for the next one. Listen to this one, a little over two months after that last entry.
14th day of Kirten. Tensions between Branot and the Council of Elders have escalated into all-out violence now and I’m not sure whose side I’m on. We’ve been told to stay within our homes and all items made of Starmetal are being confiscated so they can be re-forged into artifacts at the citadel. I can still remember the joy I felt at seeing the Stellar Aegis and the promise it represented. At first, it made sense that the Elders on the council and their direct attendants should be the first to have their lineages restored with Starmetal artifacts, but as the days stretched into weeks and still not a single average citizen was able to petition for an artifact, it became clear that something nefarious was happening. The Council was attempting to cement its control over the city, and messages from other cities revealed that the same was being repeated throughout the tunnels.
As terrible as that is, did that justify Branot’s actions? If the rumors are to be believed, he led a group of supporters who could still weave mana in secret to Zaerth and took control of the city, seizing all of the artifacts that had been forged and anything else containing Starmetal! Word is beginning to spread that anyone who joins his cause will be given an artifact and I know that many are tempted to sneak past the patrols to join up. Our magics are what connect us to Vlateria and to be without them for so long is to have an open wound in our souls. The actions of the Council are inexcusable, but Branot is the one who took first blood. Is there no peaceful way to resolve this?”
Professor Alrik paused after reading the entry, looking solemnly at Gabe and Simon. The atmosphere in the room shifted from casual relaxation to tense contemplation as they absorbed the words and implications.
“It appears,” the elderly gnome began slowly, "that internal strife and a power struggle over this miraculous discovery were the catalysts for the downfall of the Vlatiryx civilization. Desperation for power and control, fueled by the desperation to regain their lost magical abilities, must have torn their society apart. It seems likely that as the struggle between Branot’s faction and the Council of Elders escalated, the smaller surrounding settlements were caught in the crossfire as both sources of Spellsteel and conscripts for the war."
Silence lingered in the space following his words, heavy and suffocating like the ancient, stagnant air of the underground city itself.
Simon broke the quiet with a cautious, thoughtful voice. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? In their desperation to reclaim and safeguard their magical heritage, they ended up destroying it altogether. And themselves with it.”
The young man's observation hung in the room, painting a poignant and tragic picture of a lost people who fell victim to their own desperation and fear.
Gabe, absorbing the gravity of the information, spoke after a moment, “Do we know if any of them survived this... conflict? Could there be descendants of the Vlatiryx living in secrecy somewhere, safeguarding their knowledge and history? We know Drevock’s tribe was founded by one of them, so maybe more escaped and integrated themselves with human society.”
Professor Alrik shook his head slightly, the glint of many years and countless stories flickering behind his eyes. “There is no way to know for certain without more information. But given the desolation and silence we have encountered, the chances seem slim.”
“Then it’s even more crucial that we find the citadel. That’s gotta be where we’ll find any remaining artifacts and any other magical knowledge,” Gabe declared with determination, “Not just for our own sakes and the impending war, but to honor and preserve the legacy of a lost civilization. ”
Simon nodded in agreement, and even amidst the dim light and looming shadows, a renewed sense of purpose and commitment illuminated their expressions.
“We proceed with caution, and with respect for the history and tragedy of this place,” Professor Alrik stated, closing the worn journal gently as if paying homage to its long-forgotten author.
“Let their story be a reminder and a lesson to us all about the fragile balance of power, knowledge, and responsibility. The citadel is most likely in or around the center of the city, as that would be the most defensible position. Now that I have a bit more information to go on, I should be able to construct a spell that will guide us there. ”
“So the plan remains the same,” Simon said as he hefted his pack on his shoulders. “Avoid the creatures, fight them when we can’t, and keep going deeper into the city until we find this citadel. Easy enough.”
“You just had to jinx us,” groaned Gabe. “Now we’re certain to come across some creature of immense power or a last-ditch safeguard put in place by the Vlatiryx that coats the citadel in a nasty aura that dissolves our flesh or something like that.”
“Now who’s the one that been listening to too many bard’s tales,” laughed Simon as he formed an opening in the wall of the building, and the trio, along with their spider companion, walked out onto the abandoned streets of Daerlym.
In the distance, beneath the oppressive silence of the ancient city, a subtle vibration trembled through the stone underfoot. It was a quiet, barely perceptible stirring, like the breath of some colossal being echoing through the cavernous depths, roused from eons of slumber by the whispers and footfalls of the intruders in its sanctum.