Dungeons in the Dark

In response to numerous inquiries about the whereabouts of many of our beloved priests, Governor Uthas wishes to inform you that they have been sent to the Western Campaigns to help minister to our glorious armies. Their summons were urgent and they regretted that they could not say any goodbyes.

— Official announcement from Governor Uthas' office in Kubei

Wilderness northwest of Kubei,
Angvardi Province of Kutiim
September 1

When they could go no farther, Syler finally ordered a stop. With Kubei miles behind them and no sign of pursuit, it was as good a time to get some sleep as any. There was no complaints from Havert or Alltis, so they wearily dismounted their captured horses and took stock of their supplies.

Their escape from Kubei had been mostly as planned. As promised, Growald's man in the stables had arranged everything and their group had managed to secure rides and make it to the edge of the city without a problem. The first sign of trouble occurred as they left the outer rings of the tents that encircled the city proper. That was when the guards fell upon them in the night. At first, they were only in twos or threes, but it was clear that they had been waiting for them in the night. Growald had not hesitated to take his most capable men and fan out in the lead to intercept the guards, but they were heavily outnumbered and could offer only limited protection.

Chaos broke out in the darkness as they were driven apart. There was sporadic fighting between the leftovers of Growald's men and the guards, but for the most part, they were focusing on fleeing. Syler, with a semi-conscious Bronwyn in front of him, made sure to stick close to Havert and Alltis so they were able to stick together despite it all. Syler knew that some of their number didn't make it, but he was fairly certain that a good number of them were able to escape.

They weren't able to make it by the spot where he had hidden food and supplies. He knew that they would come to regret that in the cold autumn nights, but it was better to be alive. All they had were the meager amount of food that left from what Alltis distributed and a few blankets that had been attached to the saddles of the horses they stole. They would have to forage during their journey in order to keep themselves fed.

As they set up camp, Syler was not sure how he would be able to protect and care for Bronwyn. She was pretty badly beaten up and would need weeks or even months of bed rest to heal up. A mage would be able to heal her fairly quickly, but Syler didn't know any and couldn't risk the exposure of asking around for one at the next village they came across. She was already weak from days of captivity and torture, but they couldn't even take a break to rest for long. Even though it was late into the night, they needed to get moving at first dawn to put as many miles between them and their pursuit as humanly possible.

He smoothed out a patch of ground as best as possible and laid out a blanket for the two of them. To serve as a pillow, he rolled up the saddlebag and placed it at one end of the makeshift bedding. Havert helped him lift the unconscious Bronwyn off the ground and onto the blanket where he could cover her up and try to keep her at least a little warm. He hoped that, without a fire, the blankets they had would keep her warm enough.

"We should set up a watch," said Syler. "There are too many people about and I don't want to be caught by surprise."

"Yea, that sounds good," Havert agreed. "Here dear," he said to Alltis, "ya will want this." He gave her a long dagger in a leather sheath from his belt. "If someone comes after ya, just stab 'em somewhere ya think might put 'em down."

She accepted the weapon without complaint and clutched it to her chest. With a glance over at the prostrate Bronwyn, she said coldly, "I don't think I want to be captured by those monsters. That should provide me plenty of motivation to kill anyone approaching that I don't know."

"Just make sure you don't kill one of Growald's men," warned Syler. "There are a few of them out here and they may stumble upon us. As much as I might not trust Growald, I don't think he aims to hurt any of us, so some of his men would be helpful."

Syler motioned with a jerk of his chin toward the blanket that Alltis had set up and said, "You two get some sleep, I will take the first watch. Havert, you will be next."

Havert shook his head. "Naw, Syler. Ya need sleep more than I do 'cause ya have been workin' all that time on the lamp. Ya go on there ta sleep and I will take the watch."

Before Syler could open his mouth to argue, Alltis chimed in. "He is right, Syler. You look exhausted. Get some sleep and I will wake you for the last watch."

After a moment's consideration, Syler nodded. He was too tired to argue right now and he wanted to be near Bronwyn to keep the curse at bay. Without further discussion, he lay down next to her and put the blankets over both of them. Though she was still unconscious, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm. He was so exhausted that he was asleep in seconds.



Syler felt like his head had barely touched his pillow when he was woken by something in the house. His body protested as he forced himself to open his eyes and look around. It was still dark outside, so he wondered why Bronwyn would be up this early. She often did rise a little earlier than he did, but this was too early even for her.

Then it hit him, they weren't at their house, but outside. He sat up abruptly and started scanning the moonlit countryside. He didn't see anyone around and that in and of itself wasn't right. Havert was nowhere to be seen.

Another noise drew his attention to an area behind him. It was the soft crunch of something displacing the dirt and small pebbles that covered this land. His heart began racing and he reached for his sword laying a few feet away. It might be only a rabbit, but the hairs rising on the back of his neck told him otherwise.

Before he could reach the sword, a hand grabbed him by his hair and he heard the whisper of metal on metal as a knife was drawn. He tried to react, but knew he wouldn't be quick enough. He tried to roll away, but his feet were tangled in the blankets that he had been sleeping in just moments earlier.

Then, there was a gurgle of noise from above him and the grip on his hair was released. Something warm sprayed across his face and chest and he heard a thudding sound as a body hit the ground. He didn't know what happened, but he wasn't going to take another chance. He kicked the blankest off of him and dove for his sword. When he came back up to his feet, it was unsheathed in his hands and ready for battle.

"Syler, it's me," a familiar voice came from the darkness. "I'm not here to hurt you."

It took a few moments for his exhausted, sleepy mind to place the voice. "Lamastus?" said Syler as he tried to peer into the darkness.

"Yes, my friend." Syler heard some movement and then the sound of a flint being used. A few sparks later and he had to shield his eyes from the glow of a small torch. When he could see, he saw that his Angvardi friend was knelt over the body of another man inspecting his handiwork. "That is three times I saved your life, you need to start repaying the favor, Syler."

"Put out the light," Syler said with a hiss.

"Relax, the rest of the riders have returned to the city by now. I would have been with them except I happened to see this guy peeling off from the main group. I was curious about what he saw and decided to follow him. Good thing I did, otherwise you would be with the gods at this very moment."

Syler saw no reason not to believe him, so he made use of the light to find where Havert was sprawled out on the ground asleep. "Havert," he said with a kick to the other man's boot. "Get up you bum!"

With a sleepy grunt, Havert moaned, "What is it dear?"

"What a fine watchman you made," said Syler with a little more venom than he meant. He was grumpy from lack of sleep and from yet another person trying to kill him. He kicked his boot again, harder this time and Havert realized it wasn't his wife. He sat up with wide eyes and asked, "What! What's going on?"

"You fell asleep," Syler informed him angrily. "We were attacked and I was almost killed! If it weren't for Lamastus here, we would all be dead or prisoners. Your carelessness put is all in danger!" By now, Alltis had woken up and was rubbing her eyes.

Leaving the two of them to fully wake up, Syler turned his attention back to Lamastus and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," the Angvardi said with a grin. The mirth was quickly replaced by indignation, "I am almost hurt that you didn't ask for my help rescuing Bronwyn."

"What? Why would I have brought you in on that?"

"Well, now I am hurt," said Lamastus. He managed to sound convincingly enough pained that Syler didn't dismiss his reaction as a playful outburst. "I am your friend, Syler. Why would I want to help you any less than Havert here does?"

"Havert is a Sei and has been my friend pretty much all of my life," Syler pointed out. "You are an Angvardi soldier."

"That doesn't mean I am not capable of being a loyal friend," replied Lamastus.

"Why would you turn on your own people?" Syler asked.

With a snort of derision, Lamastus bitterly explained, "My own people turned on me. When I went to the Governor's Mansion to try to protest the arrests, I was told by one of Uthas' aides that the governor was looking into the matter. I know when I am being given the run around and demanded to see him myself. That only got me thrown out.

"I tried all I could to convince Captain Sosar to go back a second time, but he was adamant that there was nothing he could do. I kept trying to get support from among the other guards, but they were too afraid of Uthas to act. A few of my fellow guards were sympathetic, but not enough to defy Uthas."

He smashed his palms into his fist to emphasize his anger. "I cannot believe that Governor Uthas would allow what happened in that Temple to occur. I was part of the group that went down there to secure the Temple after your raid and saw the dungeons. It is an outrage against the Way and human decency, and in a temple of all places!

"Yesterday, Uthas sent us out on patrol watching the farmlands. He said that he was worried about Kutii raiders, but I am not entirely sure he just didn't want to keep us all apart and busy so we wouldn't organize in protest and cause problems. When word came to us that there were riots in the streets and that something had happened in the Temple, I suspected that you were involved. We were summoned back to secure the Temple, but as soon as I could get away, I ran to your house to find you. You weren't there, so I figured you were indeed part of it and would try to flee the city. I joined the guards laying in wait for you in the hopes of helping you escape.

"When you made your break and things got crazy, I tried to find out, but couldn't in all the chaos. The guards who had been on patrol from earlier got confused by those of us from the city who didn't have torches. They mistook several of our own units as the rebels and chased them down. I think that helped most of your people to get through our lines and escape.

"I was about to give up when I saw a lone horseman going out into the night. I had hoped that it was one of your people and that he would lead me to you, but it turned out to be this man. He must have seen your horses and came in to investigate." He pointed to the dead man, "It is a good thing he was so focused on you because if I hadn't of been able to jump him, he would have killed us all. That is no ordinary soldier."

"What is he?"

"That is a special operative of the Governor himself."

Syler narrowed his eyes, "How can you tell?"

Lamastus toed one of the man's vambrace, "See that? It is the Governor's seal. No other Angvardi could command him except an operative of the Empress or, of course, the Empress herself. These guys are serious business. They don't often take prisoners and are very, very good at killing people."

Syler didn't like the sound of that. "Why would someone like this be out when there were plenty of guards?"

Lamastus shrugged, "I don't know, but if I were to guess, he was hunting someone specific. These type of operatives are not sent out to perform general tasks, but are more like focused assassins there to kill specific, important targets. If he was here to kill one of you, then the governor wants that person dead quite badly."

Chills went down Syler's back as his thoughts went to Bronwyn. Thinking about her also reminded him that he needed to touch her again before the pain returned. As he sat down on the blanket next to her, he said, "Bronwyn. He is after Bronwyn."

"Why would they want her?" asked the Angvardi. He looked down at her through narrowed eyes.

With a sigh, Syler replied, "Because she is a seer."

Lamastus' eyes widened in surprise and he let out a soft noise that really didn't form any words. "That explains a lot," he murmured to himself. His voice rose so the others could hear, "There are rumors that the Shalktra have been seeking a seer all throughout Kutiim. I don't know why, but if they were wanting one, then it wouldn't surprise me if Uthas would try to kill or capture her simply to deny the Terulans their prize."

Alltis spoke up and said, "Will the Shalktra continue to come after us?"

After a few seconds, Lamastus replied, "Probably, and Uthas will likely send more people after you all. If he wanted her enough to send one of his own personal operatives, he is probably going to send out more, and in force. I would keep a sharp eye out for patrols, but I doubt he is going to send an operative out so soon. Operatives are not easy to come by because they are not common men. They are fanatically loyal, extremely intelligent, and among the best fighters and assassins that have ever been trained. They can blend into any crowd or role and are tenacious in following their prey. I have heard of some operatives staying on the trail of their target for over a year before killing him. Make no mistake, I think he will send one sooner or later, but he has to recall one from the field and reassign them to tracking Bronwyn down."

"That ain't good," commented a still sleepy sounding Havert.

"No," Lamastus agreed, "it isn't." He slid the vambraces off of the man's forearms and held onto them. "I think I will hang on to these. You never know when it could be useful to appear as the governor's operative."

"If he could track us, so could others," Syler said. "We need to get moving once more and put some more distance between us and Kubei."

"Aww, does that mean no more sleep?" complained Havert.

"You should have been on watch to begin with," Syler reminded him. "You fell asleep and endangered us all."

"Havert!" Alltis exclaimed. "You did what?"

"I am sorry, but I was tired," he said as his face turned bright red.

"It looks like you won't be standing watch any time soon," his wife said. "I am sorry, Syler, he is usually pretty responsible."

Despite himself, Syler chuckled, "Boy, he has you fooled."

"I do not!" exclaimed Havert in an attempt to defend himself. He was silenced by one look from Alltis and hung his head.

"We need to get out of here," Lamastus said. He looked down at Bronwyn and asked, "What is wrong with her?"

Syler's face darkened and his voice lowered, "Other than having been beaten, tortured, and raped repeatedly, you mean? She has some sort of spell cast on her that leaves her in unbearable agony. They prepared it by burning symbols into her stomach while they were torturing her, then unleashed the spell after she had escaped."

Lamastus' face grew just as dark as Syler's and he uttered a few curses that Syler had never heard before. "Of all the barbaric things to do, that has got to be the lowest I have heard. If there was ever a sign that Governor Uthas was unworthy of my devotion, that was it. Even if he isn't directly responsible, that he allowed such a thing to occur under his domain damns him."

"She has been unconscious for some time, though she reacts to the pain of the spell. Apparently, the only way to counteract it is if am touching her." Syler explained. Lamastus was still clearly angry, but Syler saw his expression turn thoughtful at word of that.

Syler left things at that as the small group began gathering the blankets and preparing to move out. Lamastus went away for a little bit to get both his and the operative's horses. Syler was happy to have another horse just in case Bronwyn woke up and could ride on her own. He was growing concerned at her prolonged unconsciousness. The longer she was out, the more he wondered if the magic had something to do with it. She would need to be able to eat and drink or she wouldn't need the curse to kill her. There was nothing he could do about it right now, so he got the group moving once more with her slumped in front of him.

* * * * *

Tower of Estar
Terula City
Kingdom of Terula

Master Prophet Xalent was rarely one who worried over the future. While it might seem odd for someone whose entire existence was centered around the future, he found that it never helped anything or anyone to fret over what was to come. In his opinion, the future was going to happen and little could be done to stop it. Despite the machinations of man, only the gods could alter the future. Prophecy to him wasn't the gods giving mankind a chance to change it, but rather the gods giving mankind a warning of what was to come. Fretting about what was to come was pointless as it would come regardless. It was always better to accept what was to be and adapt as best as possible.

Now, though, he wasn't doing so well at abiding by his own beliefs. He was staring at another new prophecy that had just been delivered to his desk. This new prophecy was unique for multiple reasons. The first was its simultaneous deliverance. Four different prophets received the exact same prophecy a mere handful of hours ago. It was quite common for multiple prophets to receive the same or similar prophecies. In truth, most prophets including Xalent, didn't trust a prophecy unless it was verified by multiple sources. While multiple prophets receiving the same prophecy at the same time wasn't as rare as all of them receiving it at once, it was still something that would make even the most amateur of prophets pause.

The second sign of uniqueness was that the prophecy itself was so blunt, so direct, and so unmistakable. Prophecy normally wasn't this literal or direct. Allegories, allusions, generalities, vague terms, and mere hints were the normal components of a prophecy. It took prophets decades of learning to be able to interpret what they saw. This one, though, was extremely explicit and left no need for interpretation or speculation.

The third, and most troubling reason that this was an unusual prophecy was that it was not really a prophecy at all. The vision was delivered in the same mode as any normal prophecy, but it was not telling of future events: it was telling of what had happened and only what happened. Telling of what happened in the past was not at all uncommon in prophecy, but it was always, always accompanied by a prediction, warning, or some other indication of what would happen in the future. This one offered no such thing. It was a directive, a clear announcement and confirmation of past prophecy. Such a thing was simply not done. Xalent couldn't find a single example of a prophecy being given after the fact.

Though the circumstances surrounding the prophecy itself were disturbing, it was simple.

Through blood and suffering, the Master of Magic was realized on this night.

The use of the verb phrase "was realized" in the past tense had originally caused Xalent to question each of the four prophets who had reported the prophecy. He had rigorously interrogated them to make sure they weren't substituting their own words or interpretation to the prophecy. He pressed them to see if they had missed a part of the prophecy. Perhaps this was only the first part and they were too excited to complete it. Every one of the four remained firm that this was the exact prophecy and that they had viewed it in its completion. Each man was an experienced prophet who were not known for mistakes such as incomplete prophecies and there was no evidence of any tampering of the prophecies themselves. The Master Prophet was forced to let them go and had been left alone in his chambers worrying about what this meant and how he was going to report this news to the king.

* * * * *

City of Maetop
Terulan Realm of South Equab
September 7

At long last, Prophet Aitin was able to see the smoke rising from the chimneys of the city of Maetop. He had been traveling for over three months and was exhausted, but that didn't matter. His stop at Soothei had been fairly simple, as was his task there. The road to Maetop had been more difficult as it had winded through the treacherous Hensroth Forest. That part of the journey alone had taken him a month and a half simply because he had to wait until a suitable caravan was ready so that he could have the moderate assurance of safety that it provided. Traveling through the Hensroth alone was an invitation to sure disaster, whether it be from marauders, natural elements, or the occasional wights left over from the Dark Times that haunted the roads.

He had made it safely through the forest, though three of their caravan had died along the way. From there, he was able to cross the countryside of South Equab with much greater ease. He spent a few days in Surgar resting and begging food from sympathetic priests who seemed to recognize his divine purpose. On the road to Sald, he came down with a wet cough and nearly died. A kindly farmer on the outskirts of the city stumbled upon his fever wracked body lying on the side of the road and took him in. It took two weeks to recover, but when he did, he thanked the farmer by secretly performing some basic invigoration spells to help enrich his crops. The farmer had given him some food to take along his journey in exchange for three coppers and a bronze coin. That food, and other things he managed to find along the road, managed to last him all the way to Maetop itself, the capital of the realm.

His trials were not over even with his safe arrival to the city. No, he had to complete his tasks here and then it was off to the mysterious land of Angvard far to the north. He needed to complete his task and then gather his strength and resources for the rest of the journey.

This far south, there was no real need for any walls to protect even a realm capital. The Angvardi had never even threatened this territory and it was too large to be threatened by bandits or sea marauders from Ragos. The lord governor had plenty of men to protect his own city and the Royal Army used the ports as a resupply point for ships from Klatasta bearing grain, salted beef, and cotton.

The city was definitely dominated by its port and warehouse districts. Ships coming from Klatasta via the Aytriesat River, Dunsurt, and anything coming down the River Tuo going west stopped here before braving the Muckwrath Coasts at the mouth of the Kadat River. That trade built the city into a powerful economic force even as far back as the late First Age.

When Terula was but a warring faction of separate kingdoms all but controlled by Angvard, Maetop had been the largest port in the South and was recognized as neutral territory by all parties. Its lord had managed to manipulate, threaten, bargain, or bribe his way into great power among the southern kingdoms during the failed First War of Separation from 1E 783 through 786. It was still a major source of income for all of the South during the Second War of Separation that ended in 1E 878 and resulted in independence for the Southern Kingdoms. Maetop's influence was severely harmed in the Wars of the Southern Crown that happened after independence. Their king was defeated by the Terulan king Valast who would eventually go on to unite the entirety of the South into the Kingdom of Terula and begin the Second Era.

While that history was fascinating in and of itself, Aitin was far more interested in another bit of history, something that most had forgotten. Despite its loss during the wars for power, the city was still important and remained so until this point. It was important enough to house one of the great shrines to the god Featwel the Uniter in the Temple of the Endless Seas.

Aitin walked through the bustling streets of the city towards its very center where the majestic temple rose to touch the sky. Even from outside the city, its glorious aqua spires could be seen towering over even the ancient palace where the governor lived. Its outer walls and spires were made of rare pale blue marble with veins of white and light green color running through it. The marble was found only in a small number of jealously guarded veins near the town of Utal and cost a fortune. The Temple of the Endless Seas was the only structure Aitin knew of that was actually constructed in the blue marble, all the rest of it was used for expensive sculptures because it cost too much to use as a building material.

To further the ocean theme, the windows were constructed of murals of stained glass consisting almost entirely of light blues and greens. Along the two main spires, the main windows were ten feet wide and stretched for a hundred or more feet into the sky, all of blue and green glass. The temple was surrounded by a mostly decorative wall that protected an atrium. Guards at the gate made sure people were safe and watched out for those who would prey upon the pilgrims. They were no threat to Aitin in his brown cloak that helped him blend in with the others traveling to the temple.

Aitin could not help but be awed by the titanic sculptures of the members of the Tetrarchy that watched over the outer courtyard of fountains and glittering pools full of small fish. Each statue was carved out of stone matching the color attributed to that individual god. Tantis the Founder's statue, carved of green granite, depicted him carrying a gold plated three dimensional spellshape that told of his creation of magic. Mewela the Former, clad in brilliant lapis lazuli, stood tall under the sun and stars. She tenderly held the world that she created in both hands as she stood next to her husband on the right side of the path. Across that stone path was the red granite statue of Salgeus the Sustainer that showed him in armor with a sword stretched out over the path as though he were guarding the universe from the forces of Chaos.

Featwel the Uniter's statue was by far the most decorated of the four. The statue itself was entirely done in the purest of white marble with his features gilded in gold. As this was his shrine, his statue was largest of them all and even its pedestal was encrusted in gems and fine metalwork. In his hands were the sacred Scales of Balance that kept Chaos at bay back in the early eons of the universe. Those Scales, and the mighty power of Featwel allowed the young world to form and grow while Chaos ravaged everything else. For many eons, the world was a place of peace and harmony with no evil, but that could not last forever. The Scales required a balance to function and so, when a time of peace had passed, there would need to be a time of war. As the Scales began to tip from peace to war, the world was profoundly affected. That shift caused the world to become as it was now: a tenuous balance between peace and war. Nobody knew how long this would last or if the Tetrarchy would allow their creation to fall into the control of Chaos when the Scales tipped too far.

Past the four statues and the fountains were the splendid blue walls of the Temple itself. A high relief depicting a mighty warship had been carved out of walls on either side of the door with the masts crossing over the entrance itself. The torches, each large enough for two men to stand one on top of the other within, were positioned high above the ships. The torches burned with a cool blue fire that cast a pale light across the atrium.

Inside those doors was the vestibule. Under the high arched ceiling were numerous baths fed by pipes from below. Each one was meant to wash a specific parts of pilgrim's bodies, be it their feet, their hands, or their faces. Attendants were on hand to help those who were old and to provide and dispose of towels. Benches lined the outer walls for individuals to sit on while waiting to be bathed. Aitin waited patiently for his turn at the baths and was grateful to wash away at least some of the dirt from his travels. Once he had washed, he was inspected by a priest before being granted entrance further into the temple.

Having gained entrance, Aitin was finally able to behold the magnificence of the nave itself. The expansive room ran for hundreds of yards and was over two hundred feet wide. Long, narrow windows ran around the nave itself giving both light and a sense of being underwater. Tiny pieces of glass hang on strings along the inside of the windows to catch and spin the light in all directions. When the sun rose up, those inside felt as if the entire world had been engulfed by a giant deluge leaving them completely in the hands of Featwel. The ceiling itself was composed mostly by astonishingly large pieces of light blue glass that always made the sky look more richly blue than it was. The stone used to support the glass and the ceiling was pale blue that had been polished to a shine. Using some sort of magic that Aitin had never before seen, puffy white clouds seemed to form and move around within the ceiling glass itself. It was a marvel that, had he the time, he would have loved to investigate. He had heard that, during cloudy days when the sun did not shine, a ball of blazing white fire would form outside the temple to provide the light needed so that the glass would always glisten.

Despite the beauty surrounding him, Aitin wasn't here to worship. Branching out from the sides of the nave were numerous alcoves. Some of those alcoves led to private areas for special worshipers, others to various chapels where ceremonies and minor marriages could be performed. The one Aitin was searching for would take him to the catacombs that ran beneath the temple. After a few wrong turns, the wayward prophet was able to locate the locked door that led to the catacombs. This was where his journey would become dangerous. Visitors were not allowed down here, so he could not be discovered.

A bit of magic spoken in a nervous whisper was sufficient to unlock the door. Once inside, everything changed. Gone were the comforting blues and sparkling glass that had decorated the rest of the temple. In its place, harsh grey limestone coated the walls and simple iron sconces with mundane fire served as lighting. Timing was of the essence here and Aitin needed to get in and out before being noticed. The chances of there being someone down here were slim, but he couldn't be caught or uncomfortable questions would be asked.

Step by step, Aitin was purged into the darkness, quite literally stepping into a mass grave full of bone and relics of the dead. He took one of the torches, but in the dark gloom, it didn't offer much comfort. The temple had been built on the highest part of the city, but even that didn't exempt it from constant seeping of seawater from the surrounding oceans into the lower areas. The air had a definite salty scent into it which, combined with the ever present smell of death and mildew, caused his stomach to grow queasy. It was good that he had not eaten much recently.

The catacombs were constantly branching out into smaller alcoves, hallways, crypts, passages, and even a few deep pits. The catacombs went on for miles on end and, from what he was seeing, must have covered a large portion of the city as a whole. Scattered bones and complete bodies lined almost every wall giving the entire place the creepy feeling that death was watching and waiting. One wrong turn here could get someone lost and when their torch went out…

Aitin thanked the gods that he was not wandering blindly down here. The gods had promised to guide him on his journey and they had kept their word. In his dreams every night for the last two weeks, he had seen the path he needed to take through the maze that existed under here. The correct way had been burned into his mind and now that he was actually here, it was startling how exact his dreams had been. Even though he knew where he was going, actually being here was far more unsettling than he had thought.

He came to a particular hallway that was lined entirely with skulls from floor to ceiling. At first, that hadn't seemed too odd until he made the mistake of looking more closely at them. Each skull had a coin stuffed into each eye socket. The coins were all different with some being iron so rusted that it was impossible to tell what the coin had once been and others being made of tarnished silver or gold. Some of the ones he could recognize were positively ancient and had faces and writing he had never seen before. No matter the condition or type of coin, each one of the thousands of skulls had two of them hard pressed into their sockets.

As he was looking at a skull with two large gold coins in the eyes, Aitin made a second shocking discovery: the skull had a rusted iron spike through it. A quick inspection of nearby skulls revealed that every one of them had the tip of a pike, a spearhead, or some other metal spike running through them. As realization of what this place was washed over him, he tried to back away from the wall but that only put him closer to the opposing wall. This was a hallway entirely dedicated to displaying the heads of those who had been executed within the city. They had all had their heads placed on pikes or spears after beheading and then those heads had been brought here. As part of the belief that any innocent man who was executed would come back to haunt his killers, coins were placed in the condemned's eyes to both blind their eyes and to buy off their spirits just in case they had been innocent. Clasping his hand tightly over his mouth, he ran the rest of the way through the hall until it opened into another, wider portion of the catacombs.

This section seemed unremarkable until Aitin saw the tightly wrapped bodies piled up on either side without any care or organization. He couldn't help but notice that each of the bodies was missing a head. Most had decayed to bones and had the linen surrounding them turn to dust. A few seemed fresher because they still retained form and the linen wasn't yet brown and crumbling. At this sight, the prophet couldn't stop himself from throwing up, and that only made the smell worse.

In almost blind panic, he fled from the room and into another passageway that was strangely empty. Holes had been cut into the wall to hold bodies, but there were none here. This passage wasn't long, but it was the first he had seen that had not a single body or bone in it. He didn't have time to puzzle what the purpose of this part of the catacombs was because he was nearing his destination at long last.

When he finally stumbled into the room that contained what he was after, he nearly wept in relief. His destination was a singular shrine off on its own. There were no bones here. Instead, a row of miraculously preserved brown robes were hung on pegs running along either side of the room. The row of robes led up to a small pedestal where the actual shrine itself lay. The shrine was a small, solid gold box with diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies fixed in decorative but functional symbols denoting protection and warnings to any who would disturb what was within. A small orb, the first such device he had seen since coming down here, fixed above the shrine offered comforting pure white light.

With trembling hands, Aitin carefully reached out and touched the shrine. As he did, his hands passed through the intensely deadly ward protecting it. For a brief moment, he was covered in humming energy that would have incinerated any other man or woman who dared to do what he had done. But Aitin was not just any man. He was the chosen of the gods and they protected him.

After a few seconds, the ward ran its course and deactivated so he could move freely once more. Aitin hesitantly opened the shrine to behold the object within. This was the purpose of his journey, the very thing that the gods themselves had summoned him for. He had suffered hardships for months now to do this, and he would gladly face those hardships over again. He took the object out of its protection and cradled it in his hands.

With a few whispered words, his hands were consumed in purple fire that quickly left no trace of the object that had once been in them.

As the last bits of his conjured fire died out, Aitin breathed a sigh of relief. One more step on his journey was complete and he was that much closer to playing his part in the Tetrarchy's plan for the world. It was humbling knowing that of all the people in the world, he was the one they chose, and he constantly reminded himself that it wasn't him that was doing this, but the gods. Without them, he wouldn't have even found this place, much less survived the protection ward.

As he prayed his thanks, he heard the sound of machinery clicking behind the shrine. The sound was quickly followed by the grating of stone upon stone. His eyes opened in time to see a part of the back wall slide down revealing a hidden passageway. Giving praise to the gods once again for not forcing him to return back through the terrifying catacombs, he got to his feet and, without hesitation, entered the passage.

As soon as he did, the stone rose back up to block off any retreat. Without hesitation, Aitin continued down the bare stone tunnel for what felt like hours. There were multiple twists and turns and there were times when the passageway got wider or more narrow, but it never branched out or came to a dead end. There was only one way to go, and that was forward.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he came upon the first obstruction he had encountered. A slab of red granite that didn't match the rest of the gray walls and floors blocked his path. On it was carved a single phrase in the magical language of the prophets and seers. It was the phrase for divine breath.

Not knowing what else to do, Aitin hastily formed the spell and spoke the words. When he did, instead of a small whirlwind that would normally suffice to simply blow out candles or ruffle papers, something else happened. There was a soft rumbling from far back in the tunnel, but it didn't stop nor did it quiet down. Instead, it only grew louder until it reached deafening levels and the walls started to rumble.

For the first time since entering the tunnel, Aitin was frightened. The rumbling and shaking grew louder and closer until he felt that his very body was being shaken apart. Just when he thought he could withstand no more, there was an ear splitting pop and the granite slab shattered into a thousand pieces blowing outward.

At that, silence descended and everything was still. Sunlight poured into the tunnel blinding Aitin with its brilliance. Hesitantly, he ventured out into the light and found himself well outside of the city. The tunnel ended in the side of a small hill and, judging on the amount of granite was shattered all over the place, it had been sealed with a rather large plug.

When his foot touched the grassy hillside, another sound reached his ears: that of collapsing stone. He quickly scrambled away from the mouth of the tunnel just as a massive plume of dust erupted from it. He looked back and saw that the tunnel had collapsed in on itself and would never again be used. Gulping down his fear, Aitin dusted himself off and began to consider his next move.