by D. M. Almond
Day 301
Ho ho, I finally gained advantage over my pursuer this afternoon. As I was walking in my impossible, circuitous route, I stumbled across the entrance to an old mine. The place is magnificent. It was clearly constructed ages ago and has long since fallen to disuse, yet the paths are still sound and sturdy. I may be onto something here! Could this be the path the old goat’s vision hinted of, the way to Ankobellum? I almost wept upon entering the mine, leaving the forest and its troublemaker behind. The King Elk cannot sneak up on me or play its little tricks in these mines.
Corbin sat in silence for a few moments, digesting the entries. Finally he looked over at Bipp, wondering why he had paused for so long. He found Bipp snoring lightly, sitting in place with the book on his lap. Corbin smiled and moved him to lay on his side, stooping down to cover Bipp in his blanket. It would be good for the gnome to get a little rest, he had been hard at it since finding the journal.
Corbin looked across at his brother, who slept soundly. Nero too was no longer awake, powered down properly for the evening.
The dreamwalk came back to him, and he shivered. Let them both sleep a bit longer; he had no desire to sink back into his dark dreams this evening.
Corbin settled beside Bipp and readied for a long night watch.
Bipp let out a low groan and shifted slightly. Corbin frowned and noticed the gnome had the journal clutched tightly against his breast. He reached down to remove it, but the gnome snarled and rolled over, facing away from him.
Corbin sighed and, not for the first time, wondered what he had gotten his friends into.
Chapter 11
Beads of sweat rolled down Corbin’s brow, dripping onto his bare chest. Cross-legged, he floated two inches above the rocky ground with his hands clasped together and eyes closed. Before his meditating body, four rocks, each roughly the size of his fist, slowly spun in a counter-clockwise circle.
“Why’s he gotta practice with his shirt off?” Logan asked, loudly biting into an apple.
Corbin opened one eye, and two of the rocks wobbled, drooping to the ground and swinging as if caught up in an invisible wind.
“Please, do not disturb his concentration,” Isaac asked. Corbin closed his eyes, blocking out his brother, and resumed his telekinetic juggling. Logan took another bite of his apple, and Isaac looked at him sideways. “Don’t you have your own practicing to do?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Isaac arched an eyebrow. “You don’t say? It wasn’t that long ago you would spar with Stur every chance you had.”
“Yeah, well, Stur’s not here,” Logan said. “And I think, after all the fights we’ve been in, I can figure out how to use Gandiva well enough.” He patted the mythic weapon at his belt and smirked at the mage.
“We have no way of knowing what might lie ahead, and you’d be wise to keep your skills sharp. It is a fool who believes he has mastered the game simply because he has played it a thousand times,” Isaac said.
A bit of the apple lodged in Logan’s windpipe, and he had a sputtering coughing fit before it came out into the dirt. “Did you just call me a fool?” he asked.
“Most certainly not,” Isaac said. “But I will point out that all those fights you’ve been in would not have amounted to much if you died choking on an apple.”
“Magic users,” Logan grumbled, having a sneaking suspicion the mage was behind his apple choking. He loped away to find somewhere he could practice the various fighting stances Stur had taught him.
“Isaac?” Corbin said, his eyes still closed.
“Yes?”
“Back in Dudje…Mayor Fimbas said something odd. He asked if Elder Zacharia was one of yours.”
“I suspect he meant a mage or wizard,” Isaac said, pleased that Corbin could hold a conversation while still mentally juggling the rocks and keeping himself held aloft.
“Naturally, but there was something else,” Corbin said. “How did he know right off the bat that you aren’t a Falian?”
“Probably because I don’t dress like someone from your nation,” Isaac said.
“No…it was something else, like he was insinuating you aren’t human.”
“Obviously.”
“What?”
“I’m not human.”
Corbin’s backside plopped down in the dirt, and the four rocks scattered in different directions. Isaac casually moved to the side as one whizzed past his ear. “What does that mean?” Corbin asked. “Of course you’re human…just look at you.”
“While I was born a human, that was ages ago,” Isaac calmly explained. “We mages shed our mortal coil when we ascend to the level of Grandmaster.”
“I don’t understand,” Corbin said. “Are you saying you’re immortal?”
“Bah, not many can claim that title, and none among them simple mages. No, I’ve become more of a child of the stars, at one with the universe and aligned with the will of the Architect.”
“Who is this Architect?” Corbin sat in the dirt, looking up at Isaac with newfound awe. “Is he your god?”
“The Architect is the god, neither a he nor a she, but both and none. The Architect is the embodiment of the universe itself, that which we all come from and where we will all eventually return, the all-seeing, all-knowing Creator. It is every god, and they are all a piece of it.”
“I’m not sure I understand that,” Corbin said.
“You will in time.” Isaac nodded. “Now get back to your practices. We’ll make a psionicist out of you yet.”
Across the camp, Bipp smiled, watching Corbin levitate the rocks and bring them back toward himself. He’s getting stronger at that, Bipp thought. It was also refreshing to see Logan falling into practice routines instead of lazing about. They all had their part to play in breaking through the cobold forces to get into Ul’kor. Bipp knew his was to figure out a way to break through the barrier so they could find the Healer’s stone. And the key to it all had to have its roots in the Necromancer.
He felt like the answer was right in front of him, on the tip of his tongue. He just needed one more clue, one more piece of the puzzle to tie it all together. Looking down, he went back to translating Hublin’s journal.
Day 308
Today the most wondrous thing occurred. After months of wandering the barren southern tunnels in search of some sign, I’ve done it. I’ve found the lost city of Ankobellum! It was by pure chance that I stumbled across the tunnel that led me here, and one I’ll never forget, even in my triple years.
When I passed the tunnel opening I had been wandering this labyrinthine network of corridors for days, never knowing if I was entering a new mine or retracing my old path. I was sorely wrong that the elk trickster would not follow me into these tight tunnels, but in the end he got his. I set a trap near my last sign. The devious fiend’s cries echoed through the mines, and he surely retreated back to the grey forest. My only regret is that it did not put the wretch to bed after all the torment he has caused me.
One look around me at Ankobellum, and I am awestruck. The dwergaz must have been an amazing race to have created such a fantastic city.
Bipp paused to lick his lips. “Another dwarven city?” He eagerly dove back into the journal.
As I came down the tunnel, I could feel fresh air from the surface brushing against my skin. I never imagined it could be so warm and smell so sweet. The ledge I came out on overlooked a grand city which was built in a narrow cavern that stretches for miles. The entire ceiling is missing, with waterfalls of sand raining down over the half-buried ruins. I cannot put into words how surreal it is to stand in a place that exists in both Vanidriell and the surface of Acadia simultaneously.
Many of Ankobellum’s structures are completely buried beneath these ever-flowing sands, built up around them like dunes. Twin dwarves the size of Ul’kor castle stand in tribute to the city’s visitors, the top half of their bodies rising out of the sands on either side of the cavern. The dwergaz were a stoic race, I can see that
now, stout of shoulder, with proud, square jawlines and softly pointed ears. The twins each hold shields emblazoned with the world tree before them.
Tomorrow I will go down from this place, deep into the city to search for the great library, but for now I am content to sit here in awe of these silent keepers and ponder what secrets they keep.
Bipp licked his lips and whistled. “Hublin found a dwarf city!”
Logan widened his eyes and looked over at Isaac, who was still berating his brother to focus harder. “I guess your stories about dwarves aren’t sounding so far-fetched anymore.”
“What do you think, Nero?” Bipp asked. “Could a place like this exist on the surface?” He read him the passage describing the cavern open to the surface.
“Somewhere that has enough sand to continuously flow into a chasm that deep while also being wide enough to fit a dwarven city to boot?” Nero pondered. Bipp nodded eagerly. “The Desert of Pal’nun could be one such place. It is a hostile environment, completely barren of life. The days are sweltering, and during the night the temperature drops rapidly, becoming cold enough to freeze your blood.”
“Sounds like a lovely place to visit,” Logan said.
“Oh no, Logan Walker,” Nero said with a worried frown. “No human would survive those elements.” Logan and Bipp snickered. Nero did not seem to mind as he kept on speaking. “Also, the sands are ever-shifting in Pal’nun, driven by wind gusts that can get up to sixty miles per hour.”
“You don’t say?” Bipp whistled. “It’s no wonder Hublin believed Ohm showed him the way. What were the chances that he would happen upon this cavern in a time when the winds would have swept out enough sand to see the structures?”
Logan shook his head. “Don’t you see it?”
Bipp returned his question with a blank stare.
“It was Ohm alright…but I doubt he was showing Hublin the way. Who do you think was trying to keep this guy from finding Ankobellum in the first place?”
Bipp blinked. “So the King Elk was actually Ohm in disguise? I’m surprised you would deduce that. You aren’t even a religious man.”
“Just ‘cause I never believed some floating crystal was a god doesn’t mean I’m not spiritual,” Logan grumbled.
Bipp pursed his lips and nodded. “It would make sense, much more so than some story of a trouble-making elk.”
“We only have a little time left before we leave for Ul’kor,” Nero said. “Why don’t you finish translating the text for us before we leave, and then we can go over it while on the move?”
Bipp was only too happy to stick his nose back in the remaining pages of the journal, dying to find out more about Hublin’s exploration of Ankobellum.
Day 317
I have been searching the city for over a week now with no luck. It is dreadfully difficult to traverse the place due to the shifting sands, which come up to my knees at times. It does not help to know that I am walking hundreds of feet higher than ground level, a fact I am reminded of every time I pass the top of a building.
Thus far I have only been able to locate two doorways, one of which was locked and took a day and a half to open. After all that work to get inside, I could not make it past the top floor. It was a dead end, as sand had seeped in through the windows, blocking my path. It did not matter anyhow. One look inside, and I knew I had entered the estate of some nobleman. I guess pompous elitists exist in every culture. There was not a book in sight, so I returned to the city.
When I found the second doorway, it brought me inside a bell tower. The bell itself is still completely intact and crafted of the most spectacular silvaril I have ever set eyes upon. The quality was so divine it brought me to tears. I descended a spiral staircase deep into the building, which turned out to be a massive cathedral! Words cannot describe the flying buttresses, steeple, and ornate altar. How the stained glass holds against the weight of the sands is most remarkable. The dwergaz were truly master builders, rivaling anything gnomekind has accomplished.
Just thinking on the find has left me with a sense of wonder and reinvigorated my purpose for being here. I must stay strong of spirit! Tomorrow I will set out again and have faith that Ohm will show me the way.
Day 318
I fear this may be my last entry. I am trapped inside the nobleman’s residence I uncovered earlier in the week. Hours ago a terrible sandstorm blew in from the surface. When the winds began to pick up I barely had time to make it here before the storm kicked in full tilt.
Now the sands are blowing so hard outside I can hardly hear myself think, and my ears are becoming sore. Fool that I am, I ventured a peek outside to see if it was getting any better and earned cuts up and down my forearm as if I had stuck it in twirling sandpaper. The very walls are trembling under the weight of the storm, and I fear this building will be completely covered before it has run its course. I find it somewhat ironic that my sanctuary is to become my tomb.
Day 320
The most wonderful thing has happened. Sometime in the night I woke to find the storm had ceased. When I opened my eyes, I could hear someone whispering my name and went to the door to see who was there.
My eyes almost fell out of their sockets to find that massive sections of the dwergaz city have been uncovered by the storm. Where before I could only see a handful of buildings, now there are dozens. The dwergaz were a strange people, crafting their structures at such odd angles and with round curves that boggle the mind. There is no way to describe these ruins without confusing the reader. When my search is over, I plan to try to capture what I am seeing in sketches. But that is not important, and I must keep my notes on task.
I immediately set out, excited as a lad at the village dance. There was a nearby structure that looked quite promising, so I headed directly for it.
I had made it halfway there when I saw something moving to the west. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear it looked like a small man waving to me. However, when I focused on the area, there was no one there. Then I caught him again, entering one of the buildings.
Can you imagine this? Here I am in a lost kingdom built by a race of beings that has entirely vanished from our world, and here was another person. Who could possibly be living here in these conditions?
As I neared the structure he had entered, I saw the domed cap of a tower to my right, fairly close by. I did not think too much of this until I realized that the sand was getting deeper and deeper with each step. Soon I was up to my hip, struggling just to move my feet at all, and before I knew what was happening, the sand swallowed me whole.
I thought surely my time was up and cursed myself for a fool for not treading more carefully. Too many days of searching these ruins had made be bold. The sensation of being buried alive is the single most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. I did not dare open my mouth, for surely the sand would fill my lungs and suffocate me. The world was darkness, and I waited for death to come, waited to see Uncle Bomfol so he could make some silly joke over the manner of my death.
But then the impossible happened. Albeit slowly, I realized that I was still moving through the sand! It was a slim speck of hope that dangled itself before me, and I grabbed hold with every fiber of my being. I gyrated, I twisted, I jerked, and I flopped, anything to help me move downward with more speed. When the ground finally opened up beneath me, I found myself falling through open air.
I’m not sure how long I was out, but when I woke, it was to stare up at a ceiling of sand. My pack lay at the bottom of the sand mound I had landed on, half buried, and I quickly rolled down to retrieve it.
For a while I could do little more than sit there and hack up sand, rubbing it and shaking it out of every nook and cranny of my body and clothing.
Finally I gathered strength enough to get my bearings and noticed that I was in a pocket of sorts, with softly curved walls that looked as solid as granite though I knew they would fall should I push against their frail sand forms. Marvel of marvels, behind me stood the wid
e gates to the library of Ankobellum! I remember them clearly from Yaga’s vision.
I cannot believe my luck that Ohm should lead me to this place. Now I know that I have been tested and seen fit. I am ready to enter the holy place.
Day 321
I have to stop and record my thoughts while they are fresh. The library is massive beyond all imagination. Immediately upon entering, it was clear that this is no ordinary building, but a library hanging between worlds.
The atrium houses a great white tree with silver leaves and boughs that stretch to the glass ceiling, all around its base a perfect circle of loamy soil. Behind this tree is a balcony, overlooking a staggering amount of other floors beneath, each one set up in a long, rectangular layout. Light from the daystar comes through the glass ceiling, though it is surely covered with sand. I cannot make out how this is possible, but it has something to do with the great silver mirrors that have been set up around the ceiling, angled to amplify that miniscule light through some mystical means then direct it to twin rows of mirrors lining the columns in the center of the building. I can count at least twelve floors before the building descends into darkness and still make out the shadows of six more.
What an amazing feat of engineering that the dwergaz could build such a structure. The more I look around me, the more I feel I am in the presence of the gods. I know this is a path to walk among them. Perhaps it is more likely that the dwergaz found a way to build a bridge to this mystical library, which seems as if it predates even their ancient lineage.
