The sun was rising as we exited the portal. Somehow we exited together even though we had left several minutes apart.
“There’s something in your eyes. Something about them.”
I looked at Conan. There was a warmth to his gaze. An intensity. The light of Elysium. “In yours too.”
No man could enter Elysium and leave unchanged.
“I already want to go back. Isn’t that strange?”
“I too,” I said, meaning it. It was a strange feeling. Like wanting to return to a dream. A dangerous feeling too.
Like wanting to return to a dream.
“It’s sunrise,” I said. Not everyone had my senses, “We’ve lost some time.”
Conan looked around, “I’ve been here, I can get us back. The others will be worried about us. You were already missing for a day before I found you.”
Looked around. We were in the room with demonic faces lining the wall. The bookshelf sitting by them had been moved, revealing a passageway beyond. Huh.
I lightly touched the side of Conan’s arm, “Carefully though. Better they worry then we rush through a trap,” I pointed to the masks with my chin, “Last time I went through here one of those things shot darts at me.”
Conan rubbed his chest, “Ran into something like that earlier. Probably would have been dead if it weren’t for my armour. Found two other traps two, though I couldn’t disarm them.”
“Can you figure out this one?”
Conan padded gently over to the masks, hugging the wall to come at them from the side. I stayed in by the doorway to the room we’d come through on the off chance I set something off while he was working.
Conan spent several minutes poking and prodding at the masks. He tried to pull one from the wall but they were affixed tightly, or perhaps even carved from the same stone by the looks of it. Eventually he gave up.
“Can’t figure out what sets them off, let alone how to disarm them. It’s undignified, but probably best if we just crawl under them. Might have to borrow Brace’s shield next time I head out.”
I joined him in crawling under the masks. About half way I was struck by a thought.
“You hungry?”
Conan frowned over where he was standing by the bookshelf, “Not at all. Not thirsty either. you sure it’s morning?”
I stood and joined him.
“I’m sure. All Ma- I have my ways.”
“Ways Erin wouldn’t like.”
“Even so. I have my ways. Strange that.”
“Elysium,” Conan filled the words with such longing my heart ached.
“Elysium,” I agreed.
***
Conan led me on an unfamiliar route back to the mosaic room. We travelled past the magical pool and through a room stacked high with crates full of rocks.
Conan consulted a little map he’d drawn as we walked, and provided commentary on doors we’d passed.
“Pool of water’s safe. Drank from it no problems.”
“Door leads to a room of men with heads for torsos.”
“Strange smell through that door. Has some sort of horrific altar in the centre. Got out of there fast.”
I not made more than cursory comments on anything he’d mentioned after the first. I was too lost in thought. He’d drunken from the magic pool without serious effects? I watched him carefully out the corner of my eye, gaze still focused on the terrain just ahead. Just because he hadn’t set off any traps the first time through, didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
“Pit trap over there. O’ course you know about that. Didn’t want to come back that way, but good finding that.”
My face flushed, distracted from my thoughts at last, “Fell into it actually. Lucky I wasn’t hurt.”
Conan looked at me with a grin, “You didn’t!”
With my pale, almost porcelain skin, I must have looked like I was glowing, “I did. Fell right out from under me as I was closing the door.”
Conan guffawed, “That’s one way to do it. I’ll stick to my methods though if you don’t mind.”
“So you say,” I said bringing the topic around, “but that pool you claim to have drank from, I swear it is magical in nature.”
It was Conan’s turn to turn red, “Thought it might be.”
“You did?”
“You mentioned a magical pool on the first floor earlier. I thought this might be similar. Don’t know what overtook me. Just thought, you know, maybe it could help Rian.”
“And you felt no effects from drinking it?”
Conan shook his head, “Nothing. Better than it being poisonous or turning me into a duck I know, but...”
He trailed off.
“Yeah.”
The odds of a random pool being able to help Rian were actually quite a bit harder than they might otherwise be. The warlocks had no reason to keep around nor create magical pools which were not useful to them. Unfortunately that meant both poisons and panaceas.
“Might be worth bringing some to Rian if he’s doing worse when we get back. Even if it didn’t have noticeable healing properties it might be an antiseptic or even limb restorer. Stranger things have existed.”
“I think I’d notice if it restored missing body parts,” Conan said dryly, “but I get the point.”
We’d been standing just outside the mosaic room to finish our conversation. Conan now reached out and knocked on the door, “Erin? Brace? We’re back!”
There was no reply. Conan knocked again, but louder. After several minutes he muttered, “Guess they’re not there,” and pushed open the door.
The room was destroyed. Tiles lay cracked in heaps around the room. Many were broken. The floor had been laid on a simple concrete pad, and that too was scored here and there by whatever had torn up the mosaic.
My first thought was of an attack, but I quickly calmed myself. We’d spoken of destroying the mosaic, and now it appeared they had done it. I’d not noticed, so used to Elysium’s calming presence that I’d become in the short time I’d been there, but the tension on my heart the Isles had eased had not returned when we’d left. The touch of Elysium now eased all men’s hearts as it was meant to from the beginning. If we could now just end the Rift, no matter what we did or achieved after that point, the accounting of our life would be more than balanced.
Now that I was looking for it, I could feel it, a gentle whisper in my heart.
Live well.
A blessing. And an order. Those wicked souls who strove every day to hide from the truth of their own actions would burn from the pain. It might even save them.
“Where do you think they went?” asked Conan.
“No clue. Perhaps they left some sign behind?”
The two of us began searching the room for some clue of their passage. As our search brought us to the far wall a voice called out, “That you, Conan?”
It was coming through one of the square holes cut in the wall.
“Tadhg?” Conan replied.
“Conan’s back!” Tadhg (one of the men I hadn’t been introduced to) called excitedly. With his high pitched voice he sounded like a child on his birthday.
“Conan?” Erin called softly. She sounded muffled, like she lying at the base of the wall. We heard scrambling, quite a bit of it, before her voice came clearly through the hole, “Conan, is that really you? We thought you were dead!”
Her voice was quavering, as if she was holding back tears.
“Dead? Why would I be dead? I can look after myself. Not the first time I’ve been gone for a while. Found Oswic too!”
“Oswic is there?” Her voice now contained equal parts fear and hope. Something had happened while we were gone. “Do you know the way to this room?”
I moved to stand behind Erin, “I do. That room was one of the first I checked.”
Erin took a deep gulping breath, and then another, as if gasping for air, “Then please come over here. We need your help. Please.”
I exchanged a glance with Conan. Had something happened to Rian? Or to... what was his name? Fionn? I’d already done all I could for them. I wasn’t sure what they expected of me.
None the less Conan and I hurried out of the room and around the long corridor which took us to the rest of his party.
Darkness hung heavy in the room. At first I thought the others had failed to light their torches for some reason, but then I saw the orange flame lick out past the black shroud. Even my night vision couldn’t pierce that darkness. It was like peering through a heavy veil.
Tadhg walked out of the darkness to stand in our torch light. The darkness didn’t follow him.
“What happened here?” I asked. It reminded me of the sphere of darkness the warlock in my cell had created, but more tattered, less absolute.
Tadhg nodded to the far corner of the room, “Away with me, will ya? Conan, you come too.”
Only when we reached the far corner did Tadhg begin to speak in a low voice, “We suspect it’s a curse. Erin’s been holding it together, but the rest of us are on edge. Funny world that.”
I frowned, but remained silent.
Tadhg continued, “After Oswic didn’t return it had us on edge. Conan, you went out a second time and we were worried for you, but trusted your expertise. Then you didn’t return.”
“I’ve been gone less than a day myself,” Conan said with some surprise, “Why all the worry?”
Tadhg looked at us face twisted in confusion, “You’ve been gone nearly a week!”
I exchanged a glance with Conan, my stomach suddenly lurching as if I’d accidentally missed a step along a wall. We’d been in Elysium for but a few hours. Thinking we’d spent the night there had already been something of a shock to us. I was in no particular hurry, but all the same, to miss so much time... I suddenly felt unmoored from reality. It was as if my consciousness had slipped free from my body and was rising over my head. Like I was observing myself through someone else’s eyes. A stranger to my own life.
Conan blinked rapidly and shook his head, “We’ll discuss that later. Please, continue. What happened to the others?”
“After a couple days we could see Rian wasn’t doing so well. Drifting in and out of death as it were. We thought we’d chance the magical pool Oswic had described after all. But to do that, we wanted a guide, so everyone went out looking for you, just a quick journey. If they didn’t find you in a couple of hours they’d head up regardless. They left me behind with Rian and Fionn to look after them.
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“Way Erin told it – others were in shock – they hadn’t been gone nearly half an hour when they stumbled across an altar of some kind.”
Conan started, “I’d found that altar myself. Had a bad feel to it.”
Tadhg shrugged, “Couldn’t say myself. Something about it drew them in, even Erin, so it must have been something special. Erin was saying maybe it could help Rian. Maybe find Eric for them even. Or find you and Oswic.”
“Whatever the heart desires,” I muttered.
“Even so. Weren’t to be though. Erin isn’t sure if they did something wrong, insulted the altar like, or if it were just going to curse them all along. Blinded them entirely. Snuffed their light. Doused them in darkness. They had to crawl back along the wall. It follows them wherever they go. They’ve kept all their torches lit for the smallest succour.”
I glanced back to the other corner of the room, “And why are we over here?”
“That’s the thing: The darkness is alive. We were discussing how to fix it before, and it started smothering us. Tried to take our eyes and our breath. Tried to wrap around me and crush me. I escaped but the others couldn’t. It follows them. Nearly killed Cillian before it calmed down.”
“How long has it been like this?”
“Three, four days? Hard to say. Rian’s been in and out of consciousness and Fionn’s eye’s been acting up. Darkness freaked him right out at first. He’s holding together well, but the thought of going fully blind is too much for him.”
Conan clenched his fist around his torch so tightly the wood creaked. I could only imagine the thoughts going through his mind. If he’d left them his map, or just warned them off of the altar, the whole thing might have been avoided. The pain of what could have been could destroy a man.
“I might be able to fix it,” I said slowly, fingering the druidstone in my pouch. It had worked on my altar curse after all, “I can’t promise anything, but we can hope. Send Erin out to the corridor first, Conan and I will wait for her there. To keep the darkness ignorant.”
Conan and I went out to the hallway. Erin joined us soon after. Her arms were wrapped around one of Tadhg’s to keep her from falling.
“I’m so glad you’re okay Conan. When you didn’t return I- I worried about you.”
“I-” something caught in Conan’s throat. His voice came out harsh, guttural. An odd sound from a eunuch, but no less powerful, “I made my choice. Eric is my friend. I’d be glad to die rescuing him. A true hero’s death.”
Erin released Tadhg and ran towards Conan, stumbling on the uneven ground a little, but not deterred by doing so. Conan caught her in a hug and held her there for a moment, “Let’s let Oswic look at you, eh? Then I can see your-”
The darkness about Erin began to lash and writhe, like a swarm of wasps roused from their nest. Conan stopped. Slowly, the darkness stilled.
“I’m glad you’re safe as well Oswic, don’t think I’m not,” Erin said carefully. The darkness remained still. “We’ve only just met, but I must admit, you’ve tremendously increased our optimism. After so much struggle to even travel in this dungeon seeing you face down all those goblins... we could have been killed!”
“I am glad to bring you such hope, miss. It warms my heart,” deciding now was better than ever I added, “I have something for you. It’s at the bottom of my pouch, won’t take a moment. If you could just hold this for me.”
I opened my pouch as if to rummage through it while I handed her the druid stone. The blind woman didn’t even question why I gave her my things to hold rather than either of the two men next to her.
The effect was instant and if anything worse than what I experienced. Erin screamed and collapsed to the floor, fall slowed only by Conan’s quick hands. I’d told him enough already for him not to attempt holding on to her, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he let her go.
Erin began to thrash about where she lay, knuckles white where they clenched around the stone. I didn’t know if her lack of magical knowledge would make the process easier or harder than it had been for me. If anything, she might know more of druid lore than me. Conan’s story about her bear was certainly a family magic. If they had such knowledge of animals they have knowledge of other things too.
The darkness about her was also screaming and writhing. It was a silent scream, but no less loud for it. It was an oppressive silence. One that invaded my ears between clasped fingers and set them ringing. Other sounds were muted, distant, as if behind a thick fog. Conan’s torch guttered wildly on the ground where’d he’d dropped it. Tadgh quickly kicked it away from Erin’s spasming form, plunging the rest of us into even darker shadows.
The darkness lashed out at each of us standing there before whipping around and turning back on Erin. At each tilt it failed. The tendrils slid off of us like water on glass, against Erin they didn’t even get that close. She was glowing now, faintly with white light. Faintly, but with strong illumination. It was such that she didn’t light her surroundings, but we could see her form entire through her leathers and read the twisted agony on her face.
The darkness shattered against that light. It burned away like fog. Its silent scream faded to echoes, and slowly, Erin stilled. Her heart, which we could see even through the glow of her skin, began to calm from the rapid throb it had held before. Her gyrations stilled and the light dimmed till all we could make out in the sudden dark was the torches and her beating heart. Eventually, that stilled as well.
From my own experience I knew this wasn’t the end of it. The feeling never stopped. Never stopped growing. Even now I could feel the sympathetic buzz in my own limbs, my heart crying out in kinship with hers. She had begun to fight back, but it would take time to become its master.
We waited.
Conan went and retrieved his torch. Tadgh sat and pulled Erin onto his lap against the wall so she’d have something soft to lay on rather than the dungeon floor. He rocked her gently back and forth as she fought.
Outwardly she appeared at ease. Her breath was deep and even. Her face relaxed. The only sign of her struggle was her exhaustion. She clung sleepily to Tadgh like a small child in his arms.
When the colour returned to the knuckles of her right hand I knew she had won. The pain, the harsh reprimand of the druids, the energy of the entire universe crammed into one spot – whatever it was – had delivered its lesson. They now stood as equals, one no longer to be feared by the other.
Erin slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Tadgh, smiling.
“It’s gone. I feared I’d spend my whole life blind. Blind and alone. Shunned.”
He rose carefully, helping her stand. Erin handed me back my stone, if a little bit reluctantly. Her fear of all things magical seemed to have changed. Sometimes once the worst has happened you plumb the depths of your fears. In the right circumstances, that can be enough for them to stop being fears. At least, they stop being the kind of fears which keep you up at night.
“Thank you Oswic I- My family and I owe you an irrepayable debt. Should you ever need anything, ask.”
I smiled at her, “My pleasure.”
She turned to Conan and he started, bringing the torch closer to her face, “You did not escape the shadows without scars.”
Erin raised her hand to her face, fear once again marring its perfection “Is it bad? Dangerous?”
A stain spread out from her eyes like an explosion of black powder had gone off in her pupils. It framed her colourless eyes powerfully in the dark, causing them to dance with the fire of the torch.
I raised a de-gloved hand to her face, “May I?”
She nodded, lips tight. I ran a finger across the top of her cheek, under her brow. The stain felt of nothing, didn’t smudge. From my own experience I wouldn’t be surprised if it was permanent, but it didn’t seem to have disturbed the integrity of her skin, just its colour.
I retrieved my vial of quicksilver and handed it to her so she could check her reflection.
“It appears harmless, though I’m not sure if it will fade. Perhaps with time, or with sunlight, but it is probably best to accept that it is how you will look from now on. I’m sure you know of some powders or paints which could cover it if necessary.”
Erin nodded, taking it in, “It doesn’t look so bad. Makes me look fierce maybe. Like warpaint,” her lip trembled slightly, “It will take some time to get used to.”
“You’d be surprised how little stains of the flesh mar who we are,” said Conan.
I wasn’t sure if I agreed. Being treated like a demon everywhere I went had certainly twisted me, and the physical transformation had come with a mental one besides. My body was my story, and that story had been forcibly changed by an outside force. If my actions led to me losing a finger, it said I was daring, perhaps careless or unlucky. A chance encounter with dark magic giving me crow’s feet shouldn’t mean I smiled all the time, but perhaps it did. Appearance was far more than skin deep, it was a reflection of our souls.
Was a man forced to wear a fool’s motley a fool? Of course not. But that very forcing, that fibre which still fought against it with all its strength, those things could be seen clearly. With the altar there was only acceptance. I hadn’t felt a demon, but I had killed a number of men with little thought or loss of sleep. But perhaps that very forced acceptance was a sign of the unnaturalness of dark magic, and perhaps that unnature could be sensed independently of the soul? I couldn’t be sure, so I kept silent. I was coming to respect the wisdom of Conan.
Erin left to the room of the broken mosaic with one of Tadgh’s torches while Tadgh himself went to fetch the next person. We couldn’t risk the darkness seeing others freed from its grasp before we got the druid stone into their hands.
The others went much the same. Each was marked with shadows about their eyes; the same explosion of darkness heading outwards from their pupils. Each was reluctant to return my stone. Each took their new appearance in stride about as well as Erin did. Cillian was the exception. He burst into tears upon seeing his reflection in the quicksilver before quickly rushing off to join the others freed from the darkness.
It could have meant anything. I didn’t pry.
***
Stovepipe was the last to be freed from the curse. Conan went to fetch the others while Stovepipe was still thrashing about on the floor, and Cillian himself helped Stovepipe to his feet to show him the quicksilver.
“Well there’s a thing,” said Stovepipe, “going to have to change my name now.”
Once again he didn’t elaborate, leaving me more confused than ever about how he got the name.
We met back in the room they’d relocated Rian and Fionn to. I could see why. The mosaic room, aside from a now dirty and uneven floor, had two entrances and holes about the other walls for creatures to peer through or even slip through if they were small enough.
This room was far easier to defend. It still had the holes, but they were from the mosaic room only, and the only entrance to this room was at the end of a long corridor. A single man could face both the holes in the wall and the entrance at the same time, and any intruders would be heard through the network of holes long before they made it down the corridor.
Conan went over to Rian’s unconscious almost immediately upon seeing him. There was a strange fire in his eye. He’d not shown nor claimed medical experience before, but now his hands were steady and his motions sure as he examined, stripped, and redressed the wound. A chirurgeon couldn’t have done better.
He rejoined us.
“What was that?” I asked.
Conan’s expression was grim, “Rian’s not going to make it. Not without more help.”
I raised a hand before others could reply, “Hold on. This could be important. How do you know that? How did you know to treat the wound? You didn’t offer any assistance before.”
Confusion struck, “I... don’t know. It just felt the most natural thing in the world. Do you think it could have been Elysium?”
“Another time,” I shook my head at the other’s questioning stares, “I don’t think so. I have no such knowledge nor any other knowledge beyond my knowing. What about the magic pool, the one you drank from?”
Conan’s eyes widened, “Now that you mention it, yes! The knowledge, it was there from the moment I drank from the pool. I couldn’t sense it, because how could you sense a knowing? But yes, looking back, that is when I learned it.”
“The warlocks kept a pool of medical knowledge,” Stovepipe mused, “they might care about health more than we thought. Perhaps the other pool is the same. Similar I mean.”
I met his gaze with my own, “You want to try for the magic pool on the top floor?”
“We’ve got to try something.”
“I can lead you there. I know where some empty bottles are as well. I might even have-” my fingers brushed the vials hanging from my belt.
Health.
How had I forgotten? I’d not know about his injury when I’d found it and then I’d spent two hours-
Glass Aura?
The whispers formed a question, not a demand. If I wished it, the spell would fade, back to the ethereal nothing from which it came. I grasped onto it, held it in my memory. Thrice now these spells had saved me. Whatever a Glass Aura was could be the difference between life and death in the near future.
“Oswic, are you alright?” That was Brace.
I jerked as my consciousness was pulled back to the present. How long did those whispers last? they’d always felt instantaneous, but if Brace had noticed then it could be noticed.
“Fine, sorry. I was distracted. I found-” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to admit I’d been holding onto the potion this whole time, but... but life was better without deception. Without lies. Living in the truth, “I found a vial labelled ‘Health’ in the goblins’ hoard. Better we try that first than an unknown pool.”
Truth was a tricky thing. There was as time to lie. A time to deceive others. That time was never when the truth was inconvenient, or painful. Inconvenience could take many forms, powerful ones, despite the mild connotations the word bore.
It was a lie, pure self deception, to hide your suffering and/or to blame others for it. To do so was to divulge responsibility for your own being. The truth was, no one could make you feel anything and you could not deny your self.
There was no white lie. The heart of living outside the truth was intention. I knew when every word I said to the warlock, to the Mushroom-King, to the mercenaries, was a lie. I could make the decision to lie to tyrants, so long as I held the truth in my heart. So long as I didn’t hide from what I felt. From who was I was. Even if I didn’t like either.
So long as I didn’t lie to myself.
As per most of the deepest struggles in my life, Brace didn’t even bat an eye. She even smiled when I handed Conan the potion.
“Just pour it in his mouth, careful not to let him choke. We can’t truly trust anything down here, but that’s a mage’s seal on the stopper. It’s about as close as you can get to a True Word.”
Conan bent down and administered the vial with the care of a physician. I’d have to see about drinking from that pool myself. That sort of knowledge was invaluable.
We waited for any signs of effect. After several minutes without incident, Conan put a hand on his forehead, checked his pulse, felt his breathing.
“Nothing,” he said, “how long should it take?”
I frowned, “The effects of any Magi’s work should be instantaneous. But recognizing the effect is another matter entirely.”
“Do we try the pool then?” asked Brace.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Tadgh said, “Not unless we simply want to leave him to fate.”
“That may be for the best,” Conan said, looking at me, “There are fates worse than death.”
“We could also try one of the dark altars,” Stovepipe mused, “and then Oswic could use his stone to cure him.
I shook my head, “We could, but I doubt it would work. The druid stone restores what is lost, it does not circumnavigate bargains taken in good faith. That would be a perversion. If we plan to use the altar, better to plan to use it and it alone.”
Erin walked over to Brace until she stood directly in front of her. Then she took a deep breath and put out her hand, “Give me your sword.”
Brace looked confused, but did as she said.
Erin moved over to stand by Rian, “We’ll give him the water from the pool. If it truly offers a fate worse than death, I’ll kill him myself. He will not suffer for our foolish actions, but neither will I abandon such an opportunity chance when it is available to us.”
“It is decided then. No sense wasting any time. With me, Oswic?” Conan asked.
We headed for the stairs.