Four geysers blast water from the equal distances on the slanted square top of the cubic structure. A mist carries off from the watery pillars, but most of the liquid crashes back into the hard surface and gushing along until it flows over the side in a massive waterfall that falls within an obscuring fog.
It is difficult to see exactly what the massive structure is through the immense flow of water, but the smooth metallic sheen is visible even through the obfuscation. More geysers along the sides of the cubic spray incomprehensible quantities of water out into the mist.
Grímr circles the giant structure slowly. While calling it the size of a city might have been a bit of an exaggeration, the scale deserves it. This massive water-bursting cube is the height of the tallest continae in every dimension. Barely visible through the obscuring mist, are four immense legs — like that of a table — holding the city aloft.
It all rests on a very slight tilt, so when Grímr flies around the back, we finally get a view of a surface without too much water getting in the way. The dark grey metal is sleek, with points of entry tall and wide enough for any ursu. A trickle of water flows into each of the tunnels, so I do not want to go near them, but the way this entire side of the structure is open, it’s like it is inviting us in.
If it were stone instead of metal, I’d assume it of centzon make, it has that same purpose behind its structure. Unfortunately, there are too many differences to make that claim. For one, the centzon used that special metal of theirs sparingly, but this seems like normal steel… just a lot of it. Maybe it is the distance that brought about such changes? Like the áed tribes that settled in a volcanic range instead of endlessly wandering the wasteland.
But even that I’m doubtful of. If this were a centzon fortress, then we would have faced innumerable traps before even coming close. Not to mention the question of how they made it past the Titan Alps. In all likelihood, whoever or whatever made this has nothing to do with the centzon. Now the question is whether they are inside.
The heavy flow of water must come from somewhere, right? It’s impossible for something like this to be powered for too long — the water will eventually run out — so I can only imagine whoever activated whatever this is, was here recently or is still here.
Still, I’ve seen Leal struggle in this desert, so what insane water mage might hide within? Not one at the level of an inner circle mercenary, I hope.
“Don’t suppose you have any idea what this is?” Grímr asks as we circle around to the flooded side again.
“No,” I say. Even if an áed tribe came across this, they would turn around and never come back. The air remains relatively dry compared to the east, but all that mist — not to mention the gushing water — makes this structure reminiscent of the horror stories my tribe once told.
Actually, this might very well be the source of one of those stories. If that’s the case, then this flooded tower could be decades, or centuries, old. Nah, it can’t be. There’s simply too much water gushing out of the thing to be possible. This entire sinkhole in the sand would be flooded by now, if not having created an ocean of its own.
“I want to go in.”
I twist on Grímr’s back to face Leal. She’s unable to snap her gaze away from the alien structure. “Uh… I’d really rather not,” I say.
Sure, I’m curious about it, but that is an insane amount of water it outputs. I do not want to be stuck inside. My fear of being trapped no longer sways me… but still, a place that combines my two worst fears? And she wants to go in there?
Grímr comes to my rescue and diverts Leal’s attention. “We should refill our supply while we can. There should be a lake below the mist. Solvei, you’ll want to stay up here, right?”
I can probably change into my snowsuit and walk through the mist just fine with how well sealed it is, but I’d rather not walk through mist like that if I don’t need to. Nodding, I change to my bird form and dive off his back.
Grímr and Leal descend through the obscuring clouds that sweep out of their way for only a moment before closing in behind them. Their thermal presence is still there, but I cannot see them any longer. They fall quite further than I expected before landing.
I’m not truly alone, but having my friends go where I cannot disturbs me. Grímr is strong enough to fight off any threat down there. While I know that intellectually, I dislike not being right by their side, where I can incinerate anything that might attack them.
The wasteland is quiet most of the time, but the moment you become negligent is when you will face the most danger. Not once while growing up did my family ever take their eye off me. My tribe left long before they could teach me everything, so while I’m sure I know of the worst dangers, I still need to be wary. There may be threats in the desert even I don’t know about.
The two seem to be doing fine, standing still beneath the waterfall refilling their canteens and Leal’s hyle containers. I coast along, gazing warily at the massive structure. Hopefully, after they’re finished down there, we can get moving again.
The metal face that isn’t completely drowning has quite the odd patterns marring the sleek surface. Large, sweeping lines weave up and down what is visible. A discoloured metal that has a slight greenish sheen instead of the grey that makes up the rest of its surface.
The lines of differing metal all congregate around the entryways before following the walls inside. I try to peer inside, but each tunnel is dark. It is hard to see more than a few metres.
Despite the heavy torrents of water blasting out to both my sides, I creep slightly closer. Revealing the bright white flames of my body, I illuminate the standing city’s depths. Unfortunately, all that reveals is a long hallway. Careful of the water trickling across the floor, I cast an orb into the gap. I could probably just push my flames above the water and explore for me, but after my realisation about how careful I need to be with energy expenditure, I’m not so willing to be wasteful.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
There is a lot of metal here I could eat though… but it’s probably best not to mess with the structure that continues to gush out a lake worth of water every second. I can’t feel any heat signatures within. It’s possible there are and I just can’t feel them through the dense wall of metal, but I’m confident there isn’t anything waiting in the corridor at least.
Grímr and Leal’s thermal signature finally make their climb out of the mist. I back off from the tower and fly down to meet them half-way.
“So, we ready to continue?” I ask.
Leal’s eyes never leave the cube. “Can we stay for a while? I’ve confirmed that the sands are essentially removing water from existence; the water doesn’t even last long enough down there to form a lake. I’d like to tattoo a new marking to counteract some of the effect… also, I want to see what’s making all that water.”
I want to refuse outright. Even looking at the massive cube makes me nervous. Can’t she apply that new marking somewhere safer? I turn on Grímr, hoping he’ll say no for me. Leal only just started talking to me again; I don’t want to sabotage that.
Instead, the alicanto misunderstands my pleading. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s safe.”
No, I don’t want any of us to put ourselves within such an obviously dangerous bit of machinery. A sigh escapes me. If Grímr thinks it’ll be fine, then I’m probably just overreacting because of my fears. There isn’t a chance I’ll let them go alone, and besides, while I’m sure my fears will never truly disappear, I need to push through them in moments like this.
“Fine. Let’s go inside,”
“Are you sure? I thought it might be too much,” Grímr says. He’s trying to be considerate, but the very thought I would let them go alone annoys me. I’m not about to sit this out.
“I’ll be fine. As long as my snowsuit doesn’t tear… again, water should be no issue. Plus, I have a water mage to keep it off me, right?” I incline my head toward Leal in question, but she’s only half paying attention.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.” She nods emphatically, but her eyes keep straying back to the cube.
…Am I actually going to be alright?
Probably best to remain optimistic for now. I can always vaporise water if I need to, assuming there isn’t too much of it. And I have plenty of ways to fly, so it shouldn’t be impossible to keep out of the way of any streams of water flowing on the inside. Really, our only concern should be whoever made this thing, and whether they are still inside.
“If you’re sure…” Grímr gives me one last concerned gaze before I change back and don the gift Jav’s family has already had to fix twice. Hopefully, when I return to the pact nations, I won’t have to ask them to do so again.
On the only side not completely drowning in a curtain of water, we enter the central passage between the two horizontal geysers. Grímr snaps his wings closed right before entering and a terrible grinding screech echoes around us as his claws scrape against the metal floor.
Leal jumps off first. The splash reaches my ears as her boots disturb the flowing stream. I hesitate, contemplating my choices, before I jump after her. Instead of a clean landing beside Leal as I intended, I slip on the slick, wet metal. Just as I’m about to catch myself with physical flames, Leal grabs my arm. Her hold is tight and I jerk under her strength, but I’m no longer falling.
“Thanks,” I say, and she simply nods in return.
Leal may be small for an ursu, but she still has quite the strength. I wonder if any of the chthonics went to enhancing her muscles?
It isn’t the first time I’ve waded through ankle deep water, but it remains as unsettling as back then. The slimy feeling of liquid moving beneath and around my feet is uncomfortable, and I want nothing more than to be out of this wet.
I’m tempted to have a plume of physical flame carry me, but I need to be careful with my consumption. Well, just keeping my inner flame in the surrounding air is hardly going to use enough energy to be of concern, but it’s the principle of it; I can’t be wasting what isn’t necessary to use.
So I join Leal’s side as she walks down the corridor, the gross feeling of water flowing over the back of my legs a constant reminder of how bad an idea this is. My hands tug at the zips around my head, checking whether my hood, mask and goggles are secured properly.
The metallic interior is much like the outside of the cube; grey metal with green lines following along the perfectly cut walls. I allow a curious flame to wander over a dry section on the roof, revealing only steel and copper. Considering the sheer scale of this structure, and how unnaturally flat the walls are, I’m surprised it’s something so common.
At equal separations along the hallway, small square holes sit in the floor, walls and ceiling. Each is far too small for even a volan to fit through, but they make me curious. A small portion of my fire flows inside, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it doesn’t lead anywhere. All it is, is some sort of vent that encloses the tunnel we’re in.
We slowly make our way forward. Grímr’s talons scratch against the metal and deafen us to Leal and my footsteps. The tunnel is long, and after a minute of walking, the end finally comes into sight. Instead of another room or altering path, there is nothing but a dead end. The greenish copper lines along the walls all congregate into a central point… an inscription.
A growing heat makes itself known to my senses. Fire boils through the vents surrounding our corridor and explodes through each of the square holes along the chamber. We all twist at an echoing slam. Our path of retreat is blocked. In place of our entryway, now rests another wall of metal.
We are trapped.
I force myself to take a deep breath and refocus. We are not trapped. It is simple steel that blocks our escape; I can melt our way out at any time.
Is this some form of trap for trespassers? Whoever made this place mustn’t have designed it with an áed in mind. The flames rushing into the corridor contain a heat comparable to my white flames, and would likely roast my companions alive if allowed to continue.
With ease, I push my command into the flames rushing in from the vents and extinguish them. All at once, they are gone. My friends didn’t even experience a change in the temperature before the fire is gone. Strangely though, each of the vents feel cold, almost freezing to my senses despite the flames having exploded from within.
Before I can investigate further, the inscription at the end of the hall shines, and a hollow whistling sound begins. The lines along our sides join the far inscription in the glow, going from dull green to a bright, unsettling white. Right, the thick copper lines along the walls are an inscription too. Of course they are. I’ll have to assume the entire cube is wrapped in some massive inscription, too.
An immense amount of energy pools at the end of the hall, right in the centre of the inscription. It isn’t fire, but the energy is strangely clear as day to my senses. Like the fire before, I try to instil my control over it, but despite being able to sense it as if it were fire itself, it doesn’t respond to my will.
Already, the energy has built to a staggering level. My first instinct is to burn away the metal beneath us, but as soon as I try, the chill I felt through the vents intensifies. Even as I push my fire to white, whatever cold energy is on the other side simply counteracts my heat and the metal stays unmelted.
The energy at the end of the hall stops charging. Clearly, it is ready to fire.
Well, this doesn’t look good.