Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Ianniello

  The Sword of Decree's ability to magnify such illumination was only part of its mystery. The light itself shown as an anomaly. It did not burn the eyes to look at, did not leave spots if anyone stared too long at the blade. It barely cast shadows, and certainly not sharp images. The light seemed to swerve around those objects in its path, thus even those that stood behind the cliff behemoth did not stand in his dark shadow.

  The sword's illumination also failed to affect Ryson's night vision. Normally, when a delver stood within light, his sight could not penetrate darkness in the distance, but here, this was not the case. Beyond the radiance cast by the sword, his eyes cut through the darkness. The border between light and dark was near invisible to him. He could see the final section of stairs which remained in darkness with the same sharpness as those steps which basked in the light of his sword.

  In that, he found another mystery yet to ponder. His sight ended at the tenth step of the fourth section. It was not the diminishing limit of his vision, but a distinct border between what he could see and what he could not. The last step was not a fading image. He saw it clearly, but whatever waited beyond it might have as well been covered in black ink. He could perceive nothing but a void, a void which remained even as they descended deeper, even as the last visible step finally came into the light of his sword.

  The delver's eyes narrowed. The void defied the light. It remained as dark as when they began. It defied his night vision. There was not a single object which he could focus upon, simply nothing; not another step, not a granite platform, not even a loose stone. To his eyes, there was nothing there, nothing but empty space, nothing for the light to reflect upon and nothing for his keen eyes to grasp.

  He took his eyes from the emptiness to refocus them, to bring them back to a sense of spatial reality. In his bewilderment, he noted another oddity. While the stone stair case was as visible to him as the cliff behemoth, the space beyond echoed the void. To his left and right, far ahead and far behind, the light of the sword drifted into blackness.

  Such should not be. Sanctum, an extinct volcano, took the shape of an inverted cone. Ryson could see its external shape in his mind. The hollowness of Sanctum's core could not extend beyond the limits of its external crust, yet that is what he saw. Where he calculated the sides to be, there existed only the void. Where he should have seen the sloping edges of Sanctum's inner walls, he saw emptiness. Only the stairs and the rock surrounding the opening above remained visible. Every other part of Sanctum's existence was bathed in darkness.

  The emptiness dizzied him, left him reaching for rail holds which did not exist. His knees nearly buckled as his keen senses could not break the grip of the void. He was a delver in a vacuum -a man of uncanny senses, but in a place where those senses were now blocked.

  He needed something to focus on, something to anchor his senses and avoid sudden panic. He threw his sights to his feet. He stared at each step before him as if their existence meant his life. His nostrils flared. He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of every one next to him. He smelled the dampness of their clothes and the mud upon their feet. He caught the faint traces of the horses they rode upon still lingering with each rider. He swallowed the air, tasted the bitter bile of his own spit. He listened to those around him, heard at least one shiver; heard them all breathing ever so lightly, as if taking in too much air would bring poison to their lungs. He turned an ear upward. He could hear the rain drops growing louder. Water that dripped through the opening onto the stone steps echoed throughout the cavern.

  He took hold of the echo, and with it, he found comprehension. It was as a song to his ears. It rang in his soul like a triumphant symphony. The echo! It provided the answer. The void was immune to light, but not to sound. The simple notes of the rain pierced the void, bounced about to return to his ears, a phenomena which could not occur without the walls of Sanctum. It proved the existence of the surrounding rock as truly as if he could reach out and touch it.

  Again, he sniffed the air with near savagery. He picked up the scent beyond the party. He inhaled the stale air, and long captured dust. He could smell beyond the void, smell the age of captured air.

  The answer was clear. The emptiness, the void, it was an illusion. He laughed as he exclaimed as much.

  "It's a trick!" he said with glee.

  Tun was in front, near the last visible step when he stopped. He twirled about abruptly as if he realized the delver had just stolen something from him.

  "What did you say?!" His tone was as accusing as it was astonished.

  Ryson still rejoiced in his revelation and ignored the angry tone of the dwarf. "I said it's a trick."

  "What are you talking about?" Lief called from the rear.

  "I'm talking about the darkness," the delver called out joyously. "Look at how the step where Tun stands is visible, but the next is not. Look around you, look for the walls of this mountain. You can't see them."

  All those but Jon and Tun turned about to witness what had previously went unnoticed. They murmured with curiosity. They looked in awe at the space beyond the very edges of each step. Everything beyond them was consumed in darkness. They could not deny the void any more than they could deny the very stone steps they stood upon.

  "There's something that swallows the light," Ryson called out to them. "The walls are there, but we can't see them. That's the trick I'm talking about. It's an illusion."

  Tun called out sternly. "Delver! How is it you speak of such things? What is it you know of Sanctum that you have not revealed?" His tone continued to carry more than just a hint of accusation. His hard dwarf eyes bore down upon the delver with demanding expectation.

  The question surprised Ryson, ripped him from the joy of his discovery. He answered near defensively. "I'm not hiding anything. You know more than I do about what's in here."

  "Yet you speak of secrets which you should know nothing about," Tun pressed.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about the illusion of the void. How is it you know of the dwarf secret?" The words were louder than the dwarf normally spoke. His anger brought a tone which echoed off the walls.

  The reverberation of Tun's voice was not lost upon Ryson. He used it to explain himself, though he did not understand why such an explanation was necessary. He pointed to the air as he replied. "Do you hear the echo? That's what gave it away."

  "You speak in riddles," Tun defied the explanation. "How can sound explain that which is hidden to your eyes?"

  "Easy," Ryson responded confidently, finally shaking off the accusing stare of the dwarf. "I can tell how far the walls are from us by the echo. We should all be able to see them. The echo is the same sound just bouncing back to us. The interior of the mountainside should stand in the light of the sword, but it doesn't. That means they have to be hidden by an illusion."

  "Is this true?" Stephen Clarin asked of the dwarves. "Is this what the dwarves used to protect the first tier?"

  "It is just part of the obstacle," Tun explained as if insulted. "But I do not like the delver revealing things which he should not know."

  "What would you have him do?" Lief near demanded. He peered downward from his position further up the staircase. He had to arch his neck to get a clear view over Dzeb's shoulder. He continued with an accusing tone of his own. "Would you have him ignore what he senses? He is a delver. He has explained exactly how he came to his conclusion. Why must you remain as obstinate as the rocks you live under?"

  "And why do you think I have to answer to you?" Tun snarled. He glared at the elf as the others stood uneasily between them.

  "Hey, now hold on," Ryson called out to them both. "There's no need for this. Tun, I've told you the truth. I didn't know anything about what was in here when we entered. All I know is what I see, hear and smell right now. But that was enough to figure out the trick of the darkness. I still don't know what's causing it. I just know not to believe it."

  Silence gripped the dwarf. The light of th
e sword illuminated his doubtful expression. In the quiet, in the hollow of Sanctum, the sound of the rain became more prevalent. Even Tun could hear it now. The faint echoes of dripping water penetrated the musty cavern air. He gritted his teeth as if to brace himself against the abrasive, repetitive sound. He might have stood there for the entire passage of the night had Stephen not spoke up.

  "I want you all to listen to me." His voice was filled with passion as he was careful to cast his plea over all of them and not focus solely upon Tun. He spoke with conviction, with urgency. He spoke with a comprehension of the depth of where they were and what they needed to do. And he spoke with the vibrancy of youth. "Someone should have said this before we entered this place, that someone should have been me. I guess we wanted to get this thing over with as soon as possible. But that's no excuse. We walked into Sanctum as if we were walking into a market, as if we could put aside the past like it never occurred. But it has occurred and it's time we deal with it. Before we take another step, we must come to the true understanding of what we must do."

  "We must destroy the sphere," Dzeb said softly. "It is Godson's will. We are here to carry out that will." He spoke as if the answer was so simple, and indeed to him it was. His eyes, however, betrayed the confusion he felt within him when he looked at the others. They did not carry that simple but unyielding understanding. Even Stephen Clarin, a man touched by the very powers of Godson, carried doubts and fears which were plainly evident to the cliff behemoth.

  "It is that simple to you my friend." A small lump in Stephen's throat forced a pause to swallow. He continued with a glistening tear in his eye. "You possess an understanding that humbles us all. The rest of us, unfortunately, aren't as strong. We carry with us the scars of the past, the burden of mistrust. We tried to ignore it, hoped we could overlook it, but we really can't. We have to deal with it here and now."

  The interpreter turned his attention back to every other member of the party. The sternness of his voice matched his expression. "When I was given the human's portion of the secret, I was told never to reveal it until it became necessary for another to carry. I was told not to trust elf, dwarf, algor, or even delver." He cast an apologizing glance at Ryson, as if he did not deserve to hear such a thing. "I accept the fact that the rest of you have been told the same, and told never to trust the humans.

  "Tun's reaction is perfectly understandable. His is the first secret to reveal and he feels the most vulnerable. Once we pass this tier, he will be at our mercy, as we our now at his. Is it truly any wonder to any of you that he would become upset at Ryson's revelation?

  "I understand it. I accept it. I do both because I realize we have not joined in a true agreement. Yes, we all agree to destroy the sphere, but we have not agreed to end the mistrust. We have agreed to assault this place as I have seen in my vision, but we have not agreed to put faith in each other. We can not succeed until we do each. We must pledge loyalty not only to our mission but to each other as well."

  He spoke quicker now. The sense of urgency heightened in his voice. "I tell you all, I tell you in the eyes of Godson, that I trust you. I know you shall all do your best to lead me safely through this mountain, as I will do my best. As to the delver, as to all of you, I invite, no I demand, that you remain alert and do all you can do to protect the safety of this group. Remember, one tier remains a mystery to us and that is not the fault of anyone here. We must combine our strengths, as well as use the knowledge that is ours. Most of all, we must come together. How can we possibly hope to overcome this place if we remain isolated and mistrustful of each other?"

  The words rang with passion, with truth, a truth which cut quickly to the soul of the elf. Lief immediately responded, replied with both regret and sincerity directed at the lead dwarf. "I apologize Tun Folarok. The interpreter is correct. Since your arrival, I have been more than willing to remain in conflict with you. I have taken every opportunity to question your motives as well as decisions. The truth remains that I have not accepted your willingness to cooperate. That will no longer be the case. I am an elf of quick emotions. I offer that not as an excuse, but as an explanation. If I question you in the future, it will be out of my own quick temper and not from any mistrust directed toward you. As does the interpreter, I pledge my faith to you as well as every other member of this group."

  "As do we," the algors responded in unison. Their concurring voices punctuated their willingness to cooperate. It brought a smile to Stephen.

  "Is there any one here that remains doubtful to anyone's intentions?" he asked with the smile still gracing his lips.

  None responded, but the eyes of the party fell squarely upon Tun. Though the edges of conflict diminished from his chiseled features, the spark of opposition remained in his eyes as well as his voice. "As Lief is an elf of quick emotions, I am a dwarf with little faith in things I can not understand. It may sadden you, but I will speak the truth. What I know of the humans, I do not like. And I do not know the algors at all. I have had dealings with elves, both good and bad. The delver put his sword in my hand and I saw the need to destroy the sphere, but I saw no need to trust anyone but myself. If my words ring cold to any of you, there is nothing I can do. I barely put faith in my own brother, how can you expect me to put faith in strangers?"

  Uneasiness filled the cavern. His glare made it clear that no words would cleanse him of his mistrust. He would hold to it as he would hold to his axe in battle.

  The one most struck by the rebuke was Jon. His eyes dropped in obvious sorrow as grief painted his face. His beard seemed to grow grayer by the second. He did not turn his back on his brother, but he would not face him either.

  Tun found no sadness in the cold response of those around him. He would, however, make one concession. He spoke it as if a peace offering to an ancient and bitter enemy. "I will make one promise to you all. While I may remain doubtful to your intentions, I have no misconceptions of what must be done with the sphere. It remains as clear to me as when I held the sword. It must be destroyed and I pledge everything within me for that cause."

  Lief found the words to respond first. There was no conflict in his voice, no anger towards Tun. He spoke as if his pledge of faith and loyalty sculpted his reply. "Then that is all we will ask of you. It is the true basis of why we we’re here. And no one should doubt the word of Prince Folarok."

  Stephen's expression, however, remained colored with disappointment. He opened up to the dwarf, revealed his own sadness over Tun's remarks. "I won't doubt your word, Tun, but I would have hoped for more from you. If you wish to doubt the words of those that even now put the faith of their very lives in your hands, so be it. I wish there was something I could say or do to make you understand, but I see in your eyes there is nothing that will change your mind."

  Tun responded, not harshly, but firmly, brittle with his own stubbornness. "What you see in my eyes is the doubt created by years of witnessing human arrogance and frailties. Every season they astound me with their greed to steal more and more of the land, to take far more gems from the earth than they need. And it does not end with the humans. I have knowledge of the ancient times, when dwarves suffered at the whims of wizards and sorcerers, elf and human alike. While I can no longer argue with the need to destroy the sphere, you can not take from me the understanding of what will come. You have visions blessed by Godson, but I have visions based on my perceptions of what the return of magic will mean to the dwarves."

  "As I said," Stephen concluded both apologetically and sadly, "I know you will hold firm to your beliefs, but I see no reason why I should hide my feelings from you. You don't have to make explanations to anyone here, it is not my position to judge you. But I will not lie to you either. If you hold to your doubts, I'll hold to my disappointment."

  Both Tun and Stephen had nothing further to say. They stood quiet. The rest of the group seemed lost, standing about wondering what to say or do. The indecision mounted. They stood more like ten statues, as if they were made of the
same stone which comprised the stairs that held them.

  Holli found the condition intolerable. The inactivity, the indecision, and the clustered way they stood in the open; all of this left them vulnerable. Her mind, her well trained and honed instincts, screamed to her the reality of the situation. They were standing within the walls of Sanctum, perhaps the most dangerous place in all of Uton, standing there like sheep surrounded by ravenous wolves.

  Each passing moment grated on her senses, forced her deeper into distress. Though her eyes darted about the cavern, the darkness kept her from piercing the mysteries of the first tier. The void forbade her from finding threats. She could not see beyond the stone steps, could not assess the size of the expanse that was the dwarf section of Sanctum. The surrounding void was as damaging to her nerves as it was to the delver's.

  Though she did not wish to usurp control of the group's movements from the dwarves, she could no longer hold her tongue. "Tun? Are we in danger by simply standing here?"

  His eyes washed over her, just as slight satisfaction appeared on his face. If the delver's revelation had shaken his confidence in the sanctity of his secret, the elf's question restored it. "Standing still may be the only thing which is truly safe in this place," he said almost smugly. "It is movement that is dangerous. I bid you all to remember that." He let the warning sink in before continuing. "I suppose it is time for us to pass this level, and pass it we will."

  "One moment please." The uncertain voice of Lauren broke the attention upon the dwarf. The sorceress spoke meekly, as timid as a mouse with eyes upon circling owls. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I have to do something about the cold. My clothes are damp. I can feel the cold air on our backs. I won't be able to concentrate on what we're doing if I'm freezing to death."