Part 1
Hushed words were whispered in my ear. Distant yet close enough to feel the thing’s cold breath on the back of my neck. I could not move nor speak, act or run. My limbs were stuck in place, inexistent in a sense. It spoke much, words I did not know the meaning hushed in a language to me foreign, all but one. One single word reached my ears. It was spoken with derogatory intent in that cursed, double-pitched voice. Low and high mixed together, speaking in unison, to form a voice halfway through human and inhuman, like a badly oiled, old, and broken brake.
“...Fateless…” It said once and once only.
Shivers ran down my spine. I could not move, could not retaliate or answer. Not even breathe. Mist was clouding my vision, stalking me through the darkness of that seemingly endless room. Then, the voice stopped speaking and the noise started. Screams and shouts in a familiar tongue, a familiar voice. It cursed at me, shouted at me, begged me until the white mist filling the room turned into blood and drowned the voices along with me.
I jumped awake. The dark room, the mist, the voices, the blood, they were all gone, now only the ship’s room remained. Two beds with just enough space for one person to stand in between, no wardrobe, no cabinet, paintings or any sort of embellishment. Only a porthole the size of my head broke the dullness of the room with streaks of moonlight. I felt sticky. Cold sweat covered my body and bed. My hands were trembling and no matter how much strength I put in my fists, the tremble seemed to never cease. My breath was ragged, frantic with dread and my eyes were swelling, on the verge of tears. I forced myself not to shed even one.
With careful caution not to make any sound and thus waking up Julie, I rose to my feet and wore one simple layer of clothes. I did not even bother to wear my boots. My thoughts were scattered, distraught as I made my way out of the room, up the stairs, and onto the main deck. There, fresh and crisp air finally filled my lungs. Every breath was sharp, needful, and soon, I felt clarity return to me. The wooden stairs made for a fine seat as I craned my neck to the stars above.
“Another nightmare, uh?” Said a coarse voice with uneven cadence and dragged words laced with alcohol.
It was the captain. Captain Harold of Khor’ Theas, a human male in his forties, adopted son of a dwarf and a human. His human father was an ex-slave, thus had no surname to give his adopted son and decided to make use of the dwarven traditions. Said tradition dictates that a child may not carry the surname of their parents but be given one once of age. That surname would be the city in which the child lived at the time of the coming of age. Stories of that sort were what that captain loved to tell, especially at night. That night was not the first he had met me while the moon was still bright in the night sky. My nightmares, though I was haunted by them ever since my labyrinth delve, had grown in frequency ever since the raid of Blackwall.
“Still drinking that cheap liquor I suppose” I answered, shifting my seat so that I would look at him from where he stood, behind the helm on top of the platform.
“Someone’s gotta finish it, s’pose. My sailor’s been well-behaved enough. Having ‘em drink cheap liquor to boot seems too scummy of a move…-” The captain replied as he chugged down another heavy gulp of that brownish liquid before a silence pregnant with thoughts fell upon us “-... Prying’s not much of my business but say, aren’t those nightmares of yours quite frequent?”
“...I think this lack of…“action” has given me chance to rest. Guess they all come storming at me now” I replied as I diverted my gaze away from the man. I had no wish to let him know of the fear burning vivid behind my eyes.
“Heh-” Chuckled the captain as he moved away from the helm and leaned his back again the railing, facing the opposite of me “- everyone’s got one or two skellys hiding in the closet. Not like any word from old me will serve you good”
“...Say-” I said after a long pause, asking myself why would I even think of asking that man this question “- what’s fate to you?”
The captain seemed surprised at my sudden question. I did not blame his stupor, it was the first I ever “opened” to him. In the past ten days, whenever conversation struck, I would simply reply shortly with answers, never questions, and always make haste to finish the conversation. It was not my intent to upset and he knew that, I simply preferred my silence to pointless chatter. This time was different, new, and his eyes full of surprise showed that.
“Fate, you say-” Replied the captain with a somewhat sad look in his eyes “- Time comes for every man walking these lands and sailing those seas to ask themselves “what’s fate”. A real pity yours came this soon…I’m just the captain of a trading ship, no poet or scholar, but my mother taught me that every living being has fate. A destiny, so to say. What we all refer to as “fate” is naught but a guiding hand leading us towards our end…Pretty sad, don’t cha think?”
“You seem to speak out of experience” I said, judging by his sorrowful tone.
“Wanna hear this old man’s story?-” He said before chugging down another gulp of liquor and then rapidly interrupting before I could even speak “- Eh, don’t care. I’ll tell you anyway”
[Then why even ask?!] I thought, cursing at the drunkard in my head.
“When I was young, I used to travel from city to city with my parents. Merchants they were, not much established but carrying a good reputation. During one of those jobs, I met a woman. She was an adventurer, dashing and beautiful beyond anything I had ever seen. I fell in love at first sight. First sight I tell you! After that I-”
“I don’t mean to be rude but I really don’t care about the whole story of your life” I interrupted the captain causing him to frown and regard me with a scornful gaze.
“You asked for a story and I story I tell you! Now shut it and let me speak!-” The captain shouted.
[I never asked, you idiot!]
“-Ehm…What was I saying? Oh, right! I left my house and started my own little merchant business under my parents’ name. Truth be told, it was all an excuse to follow that girl around. For five years I did that, traveling from city to city, exploring the desert, the land of elves and dwarves, until I was finally able to get through her. Hahaha! For five years I went around chasing that woman. I really was mad in love, so they say-” He said with a large smile but with eyes filled with regret and sorrow “- Life was at its best then, we got married, had a child, a house, stable business, and all that stuff. But her adventurous and wild nature, the same traits that made me fall in love, took her away from me. She had quit the adventuring business to raise our daughter, but once she was five, my dear felt the thrill of adventure calling for her. Picked up her armor and weapons and marched straight to the guild. She started doing jobs around town, then a bit further, and further, and further until we sometimes saw her one week each month…”
“...What happened to her?” I asked in a low, almost whispered tone. A sign of respect mayhaps.
“She took on a job. Something about scouting a new oasis, if memory serves me right. A simple job, really. Travel to the oasis, map it out a bit, and come back. She always told me that an adventurer’s life is like a coin toss. She used to say, whether you live or die is just heads or tails. That night she betted wrong…Her party member was supposed to keep guard but left her alone to take a piss or some shit. It wasn’t the territory of any monster but wanderers are always a thing. By the time the guy came back, my wife was dead and chunks of her were down a heatfield devil’s belly…that’s how I received her…bits and chunks missing. A heatfield devil was nothing to her, a flick of the wrist, yet that small, silly thing was what took her away from me. Away from our daughter” He was crying. Crying as he said those last words, but looked away. I knew he did not wish for me to know of his tears but…their splashing on the wooden floor seemed so loud.
“...”
“...That’s why I tell you: fate takes us to our end no matter what we accomplished, how strong or cunning we are, how wicked or saintly. The end comes for us all…To us is naught but chance”
“...Like a coin toss” I mused.
“Like a coin toss” He repeated.
Part 2
That morning the dock was bursting with life. Fishing ships had come back in flock and the market was in full swing ever since the first hours of the day. Fish from the sea, vegetables from the nearby farms, meat, and a number of different products were displayed along the streets of the dock. The noise that resulted was almost deafening. Stall owners screaming their products, chattering of housewives, carriages here and there, sailors drinking away as they finished their jobs. Truly what you’d expect from a port city.
I was hanging on the footbridge leading to our ship while eating something similar to a croissant filled with cherry cream when the captain finally returned from his errand. We had arrived at port the prior night and thus slept one more time on the ship. Came morning I made my way through the harbor to find someone to sell my ship to but was interrupted by the captain saying to leave the selling to him. Apparently, he had a friend or an acquaintance, that had recently lost his ship due to a pirate raid. Choosing to trust him, I let him handle the selling.
Captain Harold truly lived up to the name of trader. In the time it took me to find a food stand, pick a pastry, pay and eat half of it, he was back jingling a pouch full of coins. With a smug smile that called for a punch, he explained how he was able to sell the whole ship for twelve gold coins. Its value was supposed to be higher but considering its current state and past use, he had to lower it a bit. Still, twelve gold was a ton of money for just two people. As agreed, a cut of the pay belonged to the captain but when I placed four gold coins in his palm he looked at me bewildered.
“F-four whole coins?!-” He almost shouted with wide eyes “- It’d be fine with just one gold coin! All I had to do was drag it with us and sell it! No, no! I can’t accept this much!”
“Keep it-” I replied glaring at the man and pushing back his extending hand “- We don’t need that much money. Plus, we’ve already received some gold from Ali so eight more coins are more than enough to last for a long while”
“But…but-” he mumbled in an attempt to find the right words “- four are just too much!”
“Not in my opinion-” I answered pointing with my thumb behind my shoulder towards the deck of the ship “- See, we haven’t paid a single coin for the whole trip, and for that, I was planning to pay you two golds. But more than that…look there-”
On the deck, sitting on a bunch of crates on the bow, sat Julie and Ikirra exchanging some of the sweets and pastries they bought with my money. They were laughing unceremoniously with cheeks full of food, puffed out like squirrels, and with crumbles all over their clothes. Sailors and passerbyes looked at the two girls with curiosity, yet the two seemed to be completely clueless about their presence. Or they simply didn’t care. I envied Ikarra for being able to succeed where I clearly had failed, yet I also admired her and was thankful. She, in little more than ten days, was able to bring a smile back to my sister’s face.
“-two gold coins are little in comparison to that. Don’t you think?”
“Uh, you really are a doting brother” Said the captain softly, as a father talks to his son.
I was taken aback and couldn’t answer right away. It was as if my heart sank the moment I saw the warm smile cutting through that wispy beard of his. Unconsciously, my hand moved to the pouch tied firmly to my waist. The one carrying my mother’s ashes. An aching pain, a full bucket of longing and regret splashed down on me. I had to bite my cheek until I could taste the blood to not drown in that bucket.
“I guess…I’m trying my best” I replied, not sure how my words sounded.
“Well-” He said loudly clapping his hands “- what’s next of the storm caller’s list of things to do?”
“Pleaseee-” I said sighing “- don’t call me that! It’s overwhelming! *Sigh* I still don’t know. My goal is to find my father so I suppose I’ll need information. I’ll start from here, then we’ll see. What about you?”
“Wise…Same old thing. Sell my cargo, load some more, and off we go back to Blackwall. Same old thing…It’s regretful, but me and Ika will be busy for the next couple of days. S’pose this is farewell” He said solemnly as he extended one hand for me to shake.
“I guess it is-” I said grabbing the hand and shaking it vigorously “- Be well, both you and Ikarra”
“Good fortunes to you too” He replied cockying a slight smile.
The girls’ goodbye wasn’t as fast and tearless as ours. The two hugged and cried, shouted, and begged for us to let them stay together a little while longer. Even to the extent that the sailors, cringed by the sudden chaos formed of tears and high-pitched girly screams, shied away from their work, thus being shouted out by their captain. In the end, it took us two hours and a lengthy walk around the market stalls before the two could finally separate and bid each other farewell. Nonetheless, Julie kept a saddened expression for the whole day.
The subsequent five days were spent around town. Half the reason was because I didn’t have the heart to force Julie to set off on a journey right after touching land, the other half was to gather as much information as possible. To that end, we rented a cheap tavern room close to the outer walls, right at the edge of the harbor where the smell of fish was not as nauseating. It was a cozy little place managed by a family of three with few customers, good service, and a whole lot of privacy. We registered at the adventurer’s guild as soon as possible, Julie so she could have her own way of identifying herself in the next cities and I so I could resume my work for a stable income. Then, it was all information gathering.
For those five days, Julie and I did nothing but walk around the other and inner city, jumping from tavern to tavern, square to square, guild, orphanage, and any other source of information in an attempt to learn more about the people from the labyrinth and our father. Of course, Julie wasn’t much help when it came to gathering information. She was mostly interested in the city itself. She was not to blame.
The architecture was completely different from any we had ever seen. It was as if order and geometry were the fundamentals with which the city was constructed. The space between buildings was dived equally, the shape, form, and direction of every street followed a pattern. It was as if I was looking at a modern metropolis built in a medieval style. It was a strange mix that gave me a feeling of both order and oppression. It was as if the whole city was built in an orderly way that aimed to suffocate its citizens. I could not shake that lingering feeling of being trapped. Still, to Julie, it was completely new, thus mesmerizing to the point of ignoring me completely.
It wasn’t until the third day that we received some valuable information. It was from an accountant belonging to the city hall drinking the night away in a tavern. He spoke of a group of people not from this city or continent that one day appeared at the edge of the woods. He voiced his skepticism once he began recalling the, so-called, “lies” they spoke about being from the war lands, falling in a labyrinth, and ending up there. That was proof enough of my theory. There were portals inside the labyrinth, most likely active ones unlike the ones I found, and each portal connected the labyrinth to either a random place or a precise location around the world. It took me then many, many drinks before the accountant would loose his tongue and tell me the location of those foreigners.
There were twenty-eight of them the day they appeared. Two died of their untreated wounds while being transported to the city while thirteen others decided to leave after receiving first aid. Not feeling like barging into city council’s buildings and incur in the ire of the city, I moved to the city hall and recounted my side of the story up until now. I thought we would be submerged in a sea of papers and bureaucratic bullshit, but instead, upon hearing of our search for our father, those who were in charge of the well-being and care of the survivors led us to them.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The building at the edge of town was nothing more than a shelter. Homeless and whatnot were mixed with all sorts of other people, even some that seemed extremely shady. In a corner of said building, in a tall room that was in much better condition than the rest were the remaining survivors. Ten of them were left. Four middle-aged men, one elderly, three women, one in her twenties and the others in their forties and the rest were kids. My father was not among them. Three more people, what remained of a family, had left the shelter just the day before, but there was no man among them and my father was not with those at the shelter. I questioned those survivors in hopes of one of them remembering my father, not even dreaming of him being in the group of those thirteen that left already. Unsurprisingly, not one survivor claimed to recognize him. Only one, the elderly, said that someone that resembled my description joined their group in the last days of the labyrinth and left as soon as they arrived in the city. It was a meager trace, faint and most likely false, but I was not confident enough to gamble on my mistrust. I asked the elder for where this man traveled to, then, on the morning of the fifth day, Julie and I were renting a pair of horses and getting ready to leave the city.
Part 3
Two days had passed ever since leaving the tavern. The city gates were now naught but tiny dots in the far distance, only seeable because of our height. The dwarven lands are most peculiar as the vast majority are covered in mountains, some of the tallest across the continents. The southwestern side of the dwarven kingdom is the flattest, yet it's still mostly filled with hills, while the rest of the kingdom is a series of mountains and small valleys. Following a rocky road going east toward the next closest city, Julie and I found ourselves between one such valley and mountain.
The journey was boring, utterly uneventful. There was the casual traveler and the ox-drawn cart escorted by adventurers, but not much else. Even the sights became boring after the first day. Nothing but rocks and tops of mountains like fingers stretching up to the sky, an endless expanse of them. Silence accompanied most of our waking hours only interrupted by the whining of the horses and the chirping of those small, brave birds that came close to us. Every once in a while, a goat or a marmot would show its face, only to disappear a second after. In that peaceful boredom, I felt a slight sense of peace. I did not need to think, nor remember and fight. I just had to ride, cook, set the tent and keep watch. The one and only thing I needed to be careful of was to be sure to sleep at least three to four hours a night. Just enough to keep me functioning until the next city. Though I knew that peacefulness would not last long.
I had learned of it during the days I spent gathering information. Most of it was about my father and other survivors, but some were regarding this continent unknown to me and my immediate surrounding. Topography, dangers, monster hierarchy, hunting zones, frequency of bandit attacks and robberies, all sorts of information that would give me an idea as precise as possible of where I was. Thanks to that, I knew how treacherous our road would turn as soon as we passed the two days mark.
Though few in number, the place we were about the step into was the territory of mountainous grey drakes. A subspecies of a dragon that lacked the characteristic leathery wings. The information I gathered from an old veteran after paying for two ales was that the mountainous greys were much more stocky than the average drake, yet smaller and slower hence why I brought the horse with us. Because drakes are said to be reliant on their sense of sight and hearing, on the morning of the third day our pace slowed considerably, leading to a calm but tense atmosphere.
“I just noticed-” Said Julie in a low tone and a cracked voice caused by hours of silence “-but how can you ride a horse so…easily? Did they teach you that at the academy?”
“Very perceptive-” I rebuked with a sneer cracking a half smile “- It was a magic academy where they taught MAGIC. No, I taught myself how to ride while working as an adventurer”
“Well, I’m an adventurer too now. When will you teach me?” Julie chirped giddily.
“Are you not riding now?” I replied pointing at her horse with a nod of the head.
“No! Of course not!-” She said in a whispered shout as her cheeks puffed in a pout “-I’m just sitting on a horse while you guide its reins. This is not riding! Not at all!”
“We all have to start somewhere” I answered with a shrug of my shoulder, basically putting a stop to the conversation. Something I regrettably became accustomed to doing.
“But at least I could tr-” Julie retorted, or tried to before being suddenly interrupted.
It was as if a loud roar resounded across the whole mountain. Low and baritone, followed by a sudden rumbling and a reverberating sensation lingering in the air. It took me a moment to snap out of the sudden shock. Darting my head from one side to the other, I looked around, searching for a telltale sign of the creature that caused that sound. There was no dust, no loud stomping, everything seemed to be as if the roar never happened. I did not wish to stay and find out whether that was the truth. I slapped the reins onto the horse’s back and spurred it on a gallop, Julie’s horse following suit.
The horses neighed in protest but ran as I commanded nonetheless. The greyish dust raised by their hoofs created a sort of track that slowly gained in width and height, settling into a low-hanging grey cloud. Julie was speaking, shouting really, but I ignored every single word, only their vague meaning reached my ears. My focus was on something else, namely, the source of that ominous sound. Strangely, I did not feel in imminent danger, but the fear of coming face-to-face with a drake made me overlook my instincts and run either way. Though a strange sense of curiosity filled me as soon as I heard the booming sound. A question whispered to the back of my head, where my neck meets my cranium, a tickle really. Could I beat it? Could I kill a drake?
The answer was whispered alongside the question, hushed even more than the latter. It felt so real, so right, as if it was just a matter of fact. A common truth. But it couldn’t be right. I sneered internally as I ruled it to be my old sense of pride as a mage speaking. A foolish thing yes, but something that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The horses kept running at full speed on the nearly-straight road as the cloud of dust grew in size with each step. Then, suddenly, the cloud was in front of us. Thick, grey and clearly heavy with dust, it loomed over us, casting a long, stretched shadow on the road. I gritted my teeth, knowing what I had to do and the cost of it. I moved mana toward my eyes, creating a thin layer of it in front of them. In half a second, the curtain of dust dissolved from my sight, showing me what it tried to hide.
In a half-panicked motion, I pulled the reins to the side, forcing both horses to steer right onto a smaller side road not die enough for both horses to ride side by side. Abruptly, another booming roar echoed through the mountain. Flocks of blackish birds rose from the few trees and their hidden nests. The rumbling of stone soon followed, bringing forth a cold chill down my spine. A side glance was enough to notice the wall of stones, previously hidden by the cloud of dust, now crumbling onto the road, spilling dust and pebbles all over the place. I slapped the reins on the horses’ back with much more strength than necessary one last time before taking the side road.
“You wanted to ride by yourself?-” I shouted at the top of my lungs as I threw my sister her reins back, briefly enjoying the look of shock on her face “- Then here’s your chance! Keep stuck to the saddle and run after me! AND DON’T LOOK BACK!”
Her reply was an incoherent scream that washed off her mouth the moment she looked behind just after I finished speaking. I cut off the connection to the mana layer in front of my eyes as I diverted my gaze from the falling rubble. The horses ran as fast as they could, tongue lolling as they went. I took solace in the fact that the hour spent choosing the right stable and horses was well spent. Those two specimens, even though loud noises were a common fear of the horse, ran as they were ordered, showing little signs of fear. A less-trained horse might have cost us our lives.
[Gold well spent] I sighed in relief as I watched the dust settle and the roaring die down.
We let the horses run for a while more, just to be sure, then slowed down to a trot until a side road on our left appeared. We were now far from the, supposedly safe, main road, enough for us to lose sight of it but not enough to hope to reconnect. Now we were out of imminent danger but the question of who, or what, caused the landslide remained. It was an event too controlled, too precise to simply be a cause of nature. I kept my guard high.
It was not long after our sideroad started to aim back to the main road that the faint smell of burned flesh and blood filled the air. Yet I seemed to be the only one grasping it. I questioned Julie about it and studied the horses’ reactions but neither was receptive to the smell. Only after ten more minutes of tortuous, rocky road were Julie and the horses able to faintly smell what for me was almost a stench. I thought it strange but I didn’t linger on it as I ordered Julie to keep her guard high and moved the horses towards what I thought was the source of that smell.
The main road was littered with debris of all sizes. The cloud of dust had now settled into a thin, ashen carpet that muffled all sounds. A whisper of wind, every once in a while, would raise that carpet, tracing thin lines in the air with ashen dust. That side of the main road was lower than where we previously were so on our left stood a strong wall of naked stone. Said wall had chunks of it chipped away, fallen and broken, threatening to crush us at every wrong step. We proceed slowly, careful and attentive of our surroundings until, in the distance, something that blocked our path appeared.
Stones of all sizes were piled up on the road and below it, down the slope. It was a natural wall several meters tall and most likely wide as well. Too tall and thick for us to climb with our horses or dig our way through. The side of the mountain must have fallen, causing it to spill all over. It was also the source of the stench of death. I could even see it in between the rocks, the crimson liquid flowing like a tiny stream. Yet I could not explain the stench of burned flesh. If the landslide was of natural cause, how could it burn bodies? It bothered me knowing that I was missing something. That is until my attention focused on a small, blackened crater by the side of the mountain, half hidden by the wall of fallen stones. An idea sparked and I instantly began looking for similar craters. I found one more, two more, five more, all in different places. They were placed as if following a rugged line, the draft of a path. I followed it with my eyes and was about to formulate a concrete thought when my sister’s shouting voice snapped me to attention.
“Someone’s here!-” She shouted vaguely pointing at a place in between two big triangular rocks half-hanging on the slope “- H-he’s breathing! Someone’s alive!”
“Don’t touch anything!-” I shouted back as I dropped my quest for the origin of the craters and hurried to my little sister “- If you move the wrong stone, everything may fall!”
“W-what do we do?!-” She asked as I reached her. She was furiously pointing at a bent arm sticking out from two stones with a hint of tears in her eyes. The dust that had settled in between those stones moved just slightly as a result of the man’s slow and pained breath. His arm, or rather his fingers, wiggled as if to desperately call for attention “- H-he’s moving. See?!”
“Julie, go look for a long, sturdy stick…actually go look for more of them. Now!-” I ordered her as I watched her scurry away with a worried expression before lowing my voice to speak to the stuck man “- Listen, I’ll do what I can to free you but, in all honestly, your situation doesn’t look good…I need you to speak to me. If you can hear me, move your index twice-” I said fully expecting to receive no response. I believed those breaths were just his last or gusts of wind through holes between rocks and the wiggles spams. Instead, the man wiggled his index twice “- Good. I don’t know how, but it seems there’s some space between the two rocks crushing you. I’ll use that. I’ll try to use levers to force the top rock to shift and fall but I will need your help. Are you capable of moving it up? Just a little is fine. Wiggle twice if yes”
There was a long pause filled with silence. The only sound that reached my ears was the quick and hurried steps my sister made in her search for sticks. The hole in which the man was stuck was also silent, so much that even the breaths stopped raising what little dust remained. I feared the worst when suddenly, the top rock moved. It was a small and minute movement, just a few centimeters at best, maybe not even one. Yet a movement it was. Then, the wiggle followed.
“Tough one, uh!-” I mused, now growing curious about the identity of that person “- I need you to push that stone up once I shout. With all your strength…Ok, here comes my sister. I hope luck’s on your side”
Thus she came, Julie, carrying a bunch of sticks and pieces of wood with both hands, most of which were twice her height. She stumbled and wobbled all the way, unable to see what was in front of her through the gaps of the wood. She was huffing and puffing, most likely due to the great effort her girly body took to carry double her weight. Once she reached me, she unceremoniously dropped her ballast onto my feet, forcing me to jump to the side in order to dodge. She doubled on her knees, gasping for breath.
“Catch your breath while I set this up-” I said patting her back, maybe a bit too strongly “- Then, I’ll need you to help once more”
She nodded in understanding before dropping herself on a small, nearby stone, away from my working zone. I worked in silence, rapidly, as fast as I could. Landslides and their results were unpredictable, even with the technology of my old world. A sudden strong wind, a second landslide, a foolish passerby, a change in the weather…all thighs such as those could have made the whole rubble wall crumble down the slope. Thus I moved fast as I felt the eyes of the stuck man, watching me with bated breath.
I felt around with the sticks, vaguely figuring out the man’s position. He was holding the stone above with the help of another, smaller stone and the strength of his legs. I poked around with a long and sturdy-looking stick until I found a spot I deemed the best. A hole that reached the ground in between the stone below the man and the one on top, giving me a chance to create the perfect leverage. I extracted my knife and in fast motions, I sharpened the tip of the stick as best as I could in the limited time I had. Speed was of the essence so the work was sloppy at best.
“This ought to be enough” I mused as I took hold of three poorly sharpened poles.
I took the first of those poles, charged my blow and pushed/threw it into the small hole between rocks. With a loud creak, it stuck to the ground. I sighed in relief before repeating the process with the other two, taking caution in keeping my aim steady so as to not skewer the poor man. Once all three were placed, I gave them a little test, putting myself under them and pushing my back upwards to see if they would snap. They all creaked threateningly but did not break. I then placed all the other sticks and pieces of wood in a nigh random fashion, with just enough carefulness to have them enter the hole.
“Let’s hope this works-” I said as I took a brief second to survey my work “- Julie, now I need your help!”
“What do I have to do?” My sister replied in a tone full of worry and eyes looking past me and into the hole.
“Do what I do and put your whole strength into it-” I said taking station at the very end of the sticks, bending my neck so that my shoulders would be against them and supporting the whole thing with my hands “- You, inside the whole. When I shout “now”, push up like you did before. Ready?...NOW!”
The wood creaked and the stone moved slightly as I rose from my squatting position, pushing the lever up as I did. Julie followed suit, trying to copy my actions but clearly struggling due to our difference in strength. Among all the noise, I could hear grunts of pain and effort coming from the hole, sign that the man too was doing his best.
I pushed with all my strength, feeling the muscles in my lower back and legs scream in pain. The stone moved. It moved slowly, shifting centimeter by centimeter with every centimeter more I pushed upward. The wood held up. I was glad, relieved even, but then the first of the sticks cracked.
The first stick snapped in two under the heavy weight of the stone and the force with which I was bending it. The second snapped, then a third. Julie shouted my name, her face now a mask of dread. I had no choice. I pushed mana through the wood and my muscles, focusing mostly on my lower back and legs. The pieces of wood on the weaker side exploded and snapped, causing Julie to cry my name once again, but those which sustained my mana became much sturdier. I knew it wouldn’t last, it was mere wood, not iron tempered to sustain the heavy toll that the flow of mana requires. I had to be fast.
I summoned all my strength and with a guttural scream, I pushed up my shoulders. I had started this test of strength from a low squatting position and was now almost standing tall. The rock moved considerably, but not nearly enough. As a last attempt, I moved mana to my shoulders, arms, and trapezius, and pushed the lever up over my head until my arms we perfectly stretched. I felt my muscles burn with pain as signals of danger ran all over my body. I felt the weight of the rock into my very bones, shaking them as it tried to push me down. Yet I had made it. The stone had been lifted enough for a person to slip through, but none came out.
“JULIE GRAB HIM!” I shouted realizing that the effort of pushing the stone must’ve pushed the already tired and most likely injured man over his limit.
Julie slipped away from under the now unreachable wood and threw herself halfway into the hole. My shoulders were now trembling visibly when she shouted “I got him!” and searched for good support with her feet. She was taking too long. I shouted in pain, low, guttural, almost barbaric as I felt the tendons of my shoulders stretch under my bones. It was also a way to hurry her up. She was struggling. I could see the back of her clothes wet with sweat. Then, she pulled back, slightly. She held a face cacked with grey dust and a pair of shoulders in her hands.
“Come on Julie!” I shouted as cheeringly as I could but ended up sounding more like a grunt than anything else.
She grunted in response in an attempt to exert even more strength than she was doing. She extracted his chest, then his midriff, and all the way down to the seemingly short man’s waist. Then one of the three sturdy poles snapped causing the stone to shift downwards. Julie screamed in worry as she hurried in the attempt to extract the man’s legs as I fell back down to a half-squatting position. It was a miracle my shoulders had yet to break or snap out of their sockets.
With one last scream, Julie completely extracted the man. I felt a low rumble coming from beyond the wall of stone and a loud thud followed by vibrations in the ground. The landslide was shifting.
“DRAG HIM AWAY!” I shouted as I fell even lower in my squat.
I could just simply drop the weight, not while Julie was so close to the stone. She looked at me, worry flashing brightly in her eyes but complied anyway. She dragged, with no little difficulty, the motionless body away from me and the slope, just a couple of meters away. Then another loud rumble, much closer, much louder. I knew it was time to go. With one last struggle, I pushed the poles up, throwing the stone up and making as much space as possible for me. Then, I jumped back, or rather, rolled back, just in time before the stone hit the ground and the whole wall crumbled along with one more chunk of the mountain’s side. A cloud of dust rose along with the deafening sound of rocks rolling.
I summoned what little strength I could, rose to my feet and ran towards my sister and the man’s position. She was sitting on the ground, exhausted, while the man lay there, only the moving of his eyes was a sign of life still flowing in him. I grabbed Julie by the collar and the man by his chainmail and dragged them both away as the cloud of dust swallowed us.
The sound ceased along the shifting of the rocks and the vibrations of the ground. I was laying on the ground, almost passed out, with my nose buried in the road. I rose to my feet, spewing and coughing dust as I did. Julie was beside me, holding me by my shirt. She was bruised and clearly tired but did not seem injured. What worried me most was the man laying still by my other side…or rather…
“A dwarf?” Me and my sister asked questioningly in unison.