by Pedro Urvi
“I must try! Even though I never become worthy of her.”
“Listen to the sound of your words, and in them you will find the answer you seek. Do you really believe you will ever be redeemed, that you’ll ever be worthy of her?”
Yakumo remained thoughtful. As much as he might wish it, he was aware with growing clarity that it was impossible. Thinking it made the illusion possible, but saying the words out loud made them unbelievable. With heavy heart he began to realize his Master was right, he would never manage it; he was an Assassin with a condemned soul. The pain of losing her was tearing him apart, and he could not breathe. The more he thought about losing her the more he suffocated, the greater his anguish. He looked at his Master, who was smiling at him. It was an evil smile, filled with an abysmal hatred. And the air did not reach his lungs.
Lindaro woke up dizzy, without any clue as to where he was. He was lost and disoriented. Everything around him was blurred, dark and menacing. A howling wind ruffled his hair and a sense of helplessness engulfed him. His lively spirits began to subside as his feeling of uncertainty grew. He tried to calm himself but he could not remember anything of what had happened, or where he was and how he had got there. However much he looked around him, all he succeeded in doing was to lose himself in the cloudy darkness around him, which only served to make him even more uneasy. All-powerful Light that lights up all with your goodness, I beg you to guide this humble servant of yours in this moment of darkness and loss.
A strong gust of wind hit him from the side, so that he almost fell. Lindaro felt a pang of fear and tried to hold on to something but there was nothing around him but darkness. What’s happening to me? Where am I? Is this some kind of purgatory I have to go through? If it is, it must mean I’m dead…
Another gust, even stronger than the last, hit him from the opposite side and threw him to the floor. The darkness itself was attacking him. The feeling of despair flooded his soul, and he felt as defenseless as a child. Why this punishment, oh Light? What have I done wrong? In what way have I strayed from your path? Darkness enveloped him completely, and terror overcame his body and soul.
Two lights began to shine in front of him, one was white and luminous, the other golden and attractive. Lindaro watched them grow until they became two scenes taking place before his frightened eyes. The powerful whitish light showed him the image of the Temple of Light in Ocorum where his brothers of the Order were at prayer. Lindaro’s heart began to fill with serenity and peace. He stretched his hand towards them, trying to reach the quiet his soul needed, the quiet provided for him by his Order. The golden light shone with the strength of the sun, and Lindaro saw Sonea in front of a great mural with an enigmatic Ilenian hieroglyph engraved on it. The librarian was studying the symbols with an Ilenian grimoire in her hand trying to decipher them. The image filled him with joy, interest and excitement.
Then Abbot Dian appeared between both images and opened his arms. He looked to right and left, then finally at Lindaro.
Then the young priest understood the meaning of the test. He had to choose between the Light and the Ilenians: his two passions, his two obsessions. But he could not choose, they both gave him so much… both of them filled his soul with joy in different ways. He did not want the one without the other. He could not choose.
“Do not make me choose. Allow me to follow both paths, I beg you.”
The abbot shook his head.
“But I won’t be happy that way,” Lindaro begged.
And while his soul debated, unable to make a choice, he began to feel a terrible anxiety. The air began to turn thinner. He put his hand to his throat and tried to breathe, but there was no air to inhale.
I’m suffocating… I’m dying…
Sonea woke up and jumped to her feet. Everything around her was blurred and blackish. Her tireless mind interpreted the situation as unnatural and probably dangerous. She tried to rationalize what had happened, as was her custom, but for some reason she could not remember anything. This made her suspicious. Not remembering what has happened to me and these weird surroundings tell me I’m in a complicated situation… She heard a noise behind her and turned quickly. To her great surprise, Grand Master Lugobrus appeared out of the dark fog. His face was somber, his attitude threatening.
She tried to summon up the right questions to ask in that strange predicament. “Grand Master, what’s happened to me? Where are we?”
“I see you’re still flaunting those non-existent manners of yours,” the Grand Master said reproachfully, looking at her with fiery eyes and a furrowed brow.
“I… I’m sorry… Grand Master, you see, I’m lost…”
“That doesn’t really surprise me. You’ve always been lost, ever since the day you were abandoned at our door as a baby.”
“Why do you say that, Grand Master? Your words hurt me.”
“That’s their intention. We should have never allowed you to enter the Order of Knowledge. A bastard like you, from the infected streets.”
“I’m no bastard and if my parents abandoned me they must have had their reasons.”
“I never doubted it. The first and most important: get rid of a bastard who was a further drag on their already vile existence. One more mouth to feed, one more nuisance in their foul lives.”
“Why does everybody attack me? I haven’t done anything wrong and I work tirelessly in the Great Library.”
“Nobody wants you here, Sonea, just as your parents did not want you, and so left you at our doorstep.
“Yes, they wanted me!”
“No, Sonea, do not fool yourself. Your parents never loved or wanted you, and here at the Order of Knowledge nobody loves you either.”
Sonea began to cry, her eyes turning into a torrent of pain. Her greatest fear, that of not being accepted and loved by her own people was turning real, and in her heart she knew it was so. Anguish overcame her. She began to breathe with difficulty, and after a few moments she was unable to breathe at all. Her chest was clamped tight by the overwhelming sense of despair and abandonment.
The Guardian Mage placed himself in the center of the four intruders. He watched them lying on the floor, trying vainly to breathe, facing their separate terrors and doubts, failing, and because of that, dying.
I Temple Guardian…
All die…
Fire
Warily, Komir went into the funerary chamber. It was round, and in the middle he could see a decorated altar on top of which rested a sumptuous sarcophagus presiding over the chamber. The walls and floor of this room had been polished, giving the impression that the entire room was made out of red marble. The altar itself and the sarcophagus in particular were of such an intense red that Komir could not take his eyes away from them. Around the coffin, a circle of strange runes had been carved in the polished surface of the floor. It must be some protective spell, or perhaps a trap. Better stay away, he thought when he saw them, and instinctively took a step back. When he looked at the walls he saw the Ilenian symbols which covered them like great stone tapestries. In the dim light he had not noticed them, and immediately he was filled with a sense of foreboding. He did not understand how he could have arrived there without falling into a trap or coming across some guardian creature or mage. And what was even stranger, the whole way had been clear, as if someone had opened all the doors so he could reach that chamber.
It doesn’t make any sense. It’s too easy. I know where I am, this is the sacred chamber which is the resting place of the Ilenian King, just like the one we found at the underground temple below the Egia Lighthouse. I shouldn’t have been able to arrive without any opposition. Something’s wrong, he thought, and at that moment the floor of the room began to shake. He nearly lost his balance, although he managed to stay on his feet. He turned toward the entrance and realized the tremors were coming from the great crater he had crossed before reaching the funerary chamber. He tried to walk to the entrance, but a terrible quake threw him down. Earthquake! By the three
goddesses! A new and stronger tremor made him fall on his face. He did not move, knowing that there was no point trying to stand up while the earth was shaking.
A languorous chanting reached Komir in the middle of the terrible noise. The blood froze in his veins and a cold shudder ran down his back. That chanting could only be an Ilenian Guardian Mage. Suddenly, even as hell itself was being let loose outside in the crater, the round walls of the room began to burn with an intense flame. Komir made his way back, crawling along the floor amid tremors and quakes, while the thundering noise seemed to burst like an explosion inside his mind making it impossible for him to think. He dragged himself towards the center of the room, where the sarcophagus was. The ring of strange symbols protecting the altar burst into fierce flames and Komir, stretched out on the floor, tried to hold fast so that the tremors would not push him into the fire. The heat in the chamber was becoming asphyxiating.
This is a nightmare, he thought as sweat streamed off him.
He tried to retreat, but realized to his horror that the ring of fire which covered the marble walls was beginning to move towards the center, towards him! The Ilenian symbols carved on the wall were shining now with the golden light of Ilenian magic. Komir looked behind him; the inner ring remained static but the outer one was advancing slowly and inexorably towards him, with flames so intense they were rapidly consuming the air of the chamber and generating a hellish heat. He crawled to the inner ring of fire, aware he had no escape route. If the outer ring went on closing, it would merge with the inner one and he would be burnt to ashes.
And at that moment of despair, when salvation seemed impossible, a figure came in through the door of the chamber. Komir’s heart skipped a beat, suddenly hopeful, expecting to see one of his companions who would be able to save him from the horrible death which awaited him.
The figure raised its head.
Golden eyes gazed at him.
It was the Guardian Mage.
Outside the funerary chamber, in the great crater, the rest of the group of adventurers were fighting for their lives. A large section of the reddish granite floor of the platform had given way with the violent earthquake. Under their feet they could see the volcano getting ready to erupt.
Aliana was horrified, her body was trembling uncontrollably.
“Try to move to the other end!” Kendas urged them, seeing that it was now impossible to reach the entrance. “We can’t go back!” Behind them was only an abyss of infernal fire.
Aliana recovered some of her courage when she heard the Rogdonian Lancer’s voice.
“The Guardian Mage has gone!” she cried, pointing to the spot where he had appeared.
“We have to get out of here!” Kendas cried as he dragged Asti away from a block of rock which was falling into the abyss of incandescent magma.
Hartz got to his feet. The tremors were less violent now, but the explosions from the volcano under their feet would finish them off before very long. With every blast the heat was growing. Soon it would be unbearable.
“Hold my hand!” he cried to Kayti, and both of them leapt over several unstable blocks, trying to keep their balance and dodge danger.
Everything around the group was disintegrating, the volcano fire exploding furiously towards the clouds. Hell itself was opening up under their feet.
“Watch your heads!” cried Kendas, looking up. “Rain of fire!”
Aliana covered her head with her hands and felt acute pain in her arms as they were showered by fire. She had to throw herself to one side to avoid the burning rain, blackened by choking smoke, which was falling from the sky.
The volcano roared with the rage of a betrayed god.
Explosions of incandescent lava broke out all over the place, and the blocks of granite still standing over the volcano began to crumble with a horrible crunching sound and fall into the void. An inferno of fire, ash, black smoke and scorching heat unleashed itself around them.
“Quickly, quickly!” cried Kendas, jumping from one block to the next toward the opening at the other end of the crater.
Asti followed him with difficulty, holding fast as best she could to the unstable blocks of granite before they collapsed in the explosions of fire.
“It’s going to burn us alive!” cried Hartz, who was trying to put out the fire in one of his arms by shaking it furiously. He cursed the sky with a grimace of pain, then went on climbing a huge slanting granite block before jumping on to another one which was totally twisted by the pressure. Kayti, much nimbler that the giant, followed him closely.
Aliana brought up the rear, following Hartz and Kayti as best she could. She was terrified.
“This is crazy! We’ll never manage!” Kayti said, falling to her knees as she stared at the terrible spectacle around them.
Hartz went back to Kayti. Grabbing her shoulders, he said:
“Look at me, Kayti. I won’t let this place finish us off, you hear me? Trust me. Follow me and I’ll get you out of here.”
Kayti looked into his eyes and believed in the Norriel’s blind faith. She got to her feet and followed him with renewed energy. Aliana caught up with them and went on advancing along with the couple, dodging obstacles and explosions as she went.
Kendas and Asti managed to reach the ledge that led to the way out and waited for the others, urging them on their way.
Aliana could feel the blocks falling into the abyss of magma as she jumped from one to another. Everything was crumbling behind her, and the eruption was growing more intense. In place of the small explosions it seemed a massive one was now brewing. The heat was unbearable; soon it would kill them all. Hartz and Kayti finally reached the ledge, and Kendas and Asti grabbed them to stop them falling into the depths of lava. Only Aliana was left. She had to make it; she was almost there. She leapt to one of the remaining blocks just as a blast behind her hurled the block into the void.
Aliana lost her footing. I’m falling! I’m going to die!
“Hold on!” cried Kendas.
Aliana pushed her body forward and managed to grasp the last block still attached to the ledge.
“You now there!” Asti encouraged her.
She crawled over the surface of the block, afraid of slipping. Another eruption at her back followed so violently that the four companions fell on to their backs. The block split from the ledge and began to lean towards the abyss. The flames from the incandescent lava lapped against Aliana’s legs. She screamed in agony.
“Help!”
The block gave way under her weight and fell into the fiery void.
It’s the end.
Just as she felt she was beginning to fall, a strong hand grabbed her by the hair.
She yelled in pain.
“Hold on, I’ve got you!” Hartz said, and with iron muscles he pulled her up to safety.
Komir looked with rage at the golden eyes of the Mage and got to his feet. Fear surged through him, but he made an effort to hide the fact from his enemy. He unsheathed his sword and knife and stood tall and defiant, although he knew full well that the situation was desperate. Behind him the inner ring of fire would not let him retreat any further, and in front of him the outer ring was closing in and would very shortly incinerate him. The presence of the Ilenian Guardian Mage in the chamber did nothing but make a desperate situation even worse. But he would not let that Mage see a Norriel warrior tremble, and nor would he beg for release. I won’t fail. I’ll die like a true warrior, fighting. When the ring reaches me I’ll jump on my enemy. I’ll burn to death, but I might be able to get to him and take him with me.
“Norriel we are and Norriel we shall die!” he cried, already feeling the burning heat of the fiery ring on his body.
He prepared to leap. It would be his last attack.
Suddenly the medallion round his neck shone with its characteristic crystal light.
As if reacting to the flash, the Guardian Mage raised his staff and murmured something unintelligible.
The ring of fire st
opped its advance.
Komir remained motionless, undecided. He stared at those golden eyes which had him trapped in a cell of living fire. The Guardian looked at him and Komir felt something hit his mind, like a mental blow. What’s this? What does this creature from the abyss want? Does he mean to get inside my head? A new blow struck his mind, and Komir realized the creature wanted to communicate with him. A distant murmur, profoundly ancient, from a forgotten era, reached his mind.
Medallion…
Bearer of sacred medallion…
I Guardian of Temple of Fire…
Rest the great Lord of Fire…
But you deceive …
You not pure blood…
Die…
Komir understood then that the flash from the medallion had confused the Guardian, leading him to think Komir was one of his own, an Ilenian… Unfortunately the confusion had been brief, but it might be enough…
With a swift move he threw his well-balanced dagger at the Mage.
He had prepared it during that instant of doubt. He was no more than ten paces away from his enemy. There was no way he could miss.
The Guardian saw it and moved his staff extremely fast.
A burning sphere formed around the Mage.
The dagger crossed the ring of fire, aiming straight at the Guardian’s heart.
The fire won’t stop the dagger, he’s lost, thought Komir looking at the burning sphere which protected the Mage. But when it reached it, the dagger hit something solid. He stared in bewilderment. The sphere of fire was made of solidified lava, and the dagger had bounced off and fallen to the floor.
