by Kira Morgana
By the time they reached the dais, a carpet of bodies lay around them, some still spurting bodily fluids, others breathing their last.
Loric looked around. This is absolute carnage, who on earth would throw away their followers like this?
A lone Gremlin stood in the doorway, its pupil-less eyes blinking as it breathed hard from exertion.
Loric raised his blood drenched sabre and took a step towards the tiny creature. The Gremlin screamed, dropped its dagger and ran away shouting at the top of its voice. “Retreat, retreat! Evacuate the dungeon!”
Loric leaned back against the second dais arm breathing heavily. Grimhelm sat groaning on the bottom step, his right leg broken and useless. Thiert was the only person still with any energy.
He attacked the third arm and surprisingly all the arms dissolved, tipping Loric onto the dais as the magic field around the Heart Crystal stopped working and dropped, still inside the bag Thiert had put on it.
Loric caught the bag and grinned at Thiert.
“Thank you, my friend.”
“I’m a thief. I’m no one’s friend.” Thiert’s answering grin was broad and made Loric laugh.
“Come on, Grim. Let’s grab Kalytia and get out of here,” Loric said using his hilt to push himself up.
The Dwarf said nothing.
“Grim? Grimhelm?” Loric spun round to see Thiert pull one of his knives out from under the dwarf’s chin. “What are you are doing?!”
“I told you. I’m no one’s friend.” The thief replied softly, wiping his knife on his trousers.
Loric stared at him, panic rising in his chest.
In front of his eyes, the thief’s tattoo transformed from black to full colour, with blood red roses blooming between the thorns.
“Thiert, snap out of it man!”
The little thief looked at him, his eyes bright gold from edge to edge.
“You come into my dungeon; you kill my creatures and plunder my treasure. Then you steal my Heart Crystal and you think that you can get away with it?” the man laughed, but it was the laugh of a Demon, deep and hollow, echoing around the room.
“But, the Black Tower War! All the stories say the Dungeons were cleansed,” Loric said.
“Hah! I am Aracan Katuvana and it is time that you puny humans with your soft, delicate bodies and delicious spirits realised that I will never be destroyed.” Thiert’s face began to change as his skin darkened.
Loric dropped the bag holding the Heart Crystal onto the dais and moved around it towards Thiert, holding his blade out in front of him.
“Release Thiert and I will leave your Crystal and your dungeon alone.”
The little man didn’t move, he just waited, a sardonic smile on his face. When the point of the Sabre touched his chest just over the heart, he laughed.
“You cannot kill me, boy.”
From this close, Loric could see the centre of the gold eyes were still deep blue.
“There is still something human in there,” Loric said softly.
“This man is mine. He has been mine since he was born, everything he has told you has been a lie and at my command,” the Demon possessing Thiert told Loric.
“I would rather die than become one of the Aracan Katuvana’s followers. Please Loric.”
Thiert’s voice whispered in Loric’s mind and as he looked at the rogue, he saw in the little blue centre, the calm of a man prepared to die.
He swallowed with difficulty.
“Do you really think you can prevail against my Power?” the possessing demon hissed.
“Yes, actually, I do,” Loric replied and taking a swift step forward, he thrust his sabre into the man’s heart, just the first four inches of the blade, but he could have sworn he felt the bone at the back grate against the point as it slid through the heart.
The thief's chest heaved as he tried to hold onto life. “Thank you my friend. I hope you manage to get the end you desire from all of this death.” The thief’s voice whispered in his mind.
“I’m actually beginning to wonder if it’s just my father that’s insane,” Loric replied.
The thief smiled. “Nothing in this life is sane.”
Loric forced a laugh. “That’s one way of looking at it.” The light left Thiert’s eyes.
Stepping back, he pulled the blade out.
A red mist rose from the body and vanished with a crash of imploding air as the possession spell was broken.
I hope that really hurts the bastard, Loric thought, remembering the agony Silvertree had been in when his Golem Snake was destroyed.
Turning, Loric fell to his knees beside the body and saw that Thiert’s eyes had returned to the deep blue he remembered. He closed the thief's eyelids and wiped a thread of blood from his cheek. “Now what?” Loric asked himself. “I suppose I should get Kalytia out of here. She, at least, does not deserve to die in this place.” His voice echoed through the rooms and he shivered.
Gathering Grimhelm’s war hammer and the clan amulet from around his neck, Loric slipped them into the little money bag Grimhelm had been using and tied the bag to his belt.
He looked at the thief’s body and frowned.
“Should I take your bag too?” he asked it. “Well, the Trap Hunter might come in handy, and I don’t think you’d mind,” he answered himself as he untied it from Thiert's belt and added it to his. Now I know I’m going mad, talking to dead people.
Picking up the crystal from the dais, he went back to where Kalytia lay. He fed Silvertree’s staff into the elf’s Bag of Holding, slinging it over his shoulder.
Gently, Loric shook the cleric awake.
Kalytia roused slowly. “What’s going on, Loric?” she asked.
She’s still sleepy. It does sound good to hear my name on her lips, though. He bit back a smile at the thought.
“We have to get out of here, Lady Cleric. Silvertree, Grimhelm and Thiert are dead and I must warn my Father of the danger posed by the Black Tower and its Aracan Katuvana.”
The news brought her all the way awake and she scrambled to her feet.
“Have you done what you came to do, your Highness?”
“Yes, Lady.”
“Then I shall mourn our friends later, when we have time.”
The two left the Treasure room into the now paved and fortified corridor with skeletal hands holding torches every few feet.
“Hmm. Maybe we ought to be a bit more careful now,” Loric said. “Looks like they’ve had the place done up.”
Kalytia nodded. “Have you got the Trap Hunter?”
Loric fished around in Thiert’s pack and brought out the device. In his hand it just looked like a dull grey sphere. He handed it to Kalytia, who looked at it carefully, then whispered something in Elvish to it. The Trap Hunter glowed orange and Kalytia smiled.
“Eliethor always uses common Elvish for general items.” She giggled. “I wonder…” she whispered another Elvish word and the Trap Hunter glowed yellow and lifted from her palm, hovering in front of her.
“I thought so. It has a second setting,” Kalytia sighed. “Poor Thiert, if he’d known about the automatic setting, he wouldn’t have needed to do so much work.”
Loric gave her a sad smile. “Come on, Kalytia. “
They moved swiftly down the corridor and paused at the torture chamber as the Trap Hunter revealed three spike traps arranged in a row in front of them.
Kalytia disarmed them and they encountered no resistance for the rest of the way, just the occasional Gremlin that would run screaming back the way they came.
At the end of the new corridor they fought their way through a squad of skeletons. The animated bones crumbled into dust at the touch of Kalytia’s blade.
“It’s too easy,” Loric panted as they ran around the corner towards the main entrance. Kalytia nodded.
At the main entrance, the Trap Hunter indicated that these traps had been reset.
Kalytia had to use more mana to disarm them.
“I
see why Lord Silvertree wanted Thiert along,” she said as they slipped out the door. “If I didn’t have a constant mana source from my Goddess, I’d be almost dead by now.”
Loric had a sudden flash back to the moment his friend and tutor had died, blinking away tears. No time to mourn now, we have to get out of here!
At the crossroads the traps were also active and they had to waste valuable minutes disarming them. Loric waited impatiently, sabre at the ready while Kalytia removed the threat from each one.
“I can’t defuse the gas trap, your Highness,” she hissed back to him.
“Put your mask on, hold your breath for as long as possible and we’ll run through,” Loric suggested.
She nodded and pulled the red mask from her bag, swiftly tying the straps in place. She held the bag with the crystal while Loric fastened his.
“Right then,” he said, “one, two, and three…”
They dashed through the centre of the crossroads, the Trap Hunter following them, and barely got two steps out the other side of the trap before collapsing. Luckily, the gas was light and when they dropped close to the floor where there was a less contaminated breathing space, the masks protected them and they could crawl away from the poison cloud.
Once free of the choking mist, Kalytia healed them and they made their way to the beginning of the main corridor.
“Three traps to go,” she sighed as the Trap Hunter located them.
“You clear them and take the crystal out of the dungeon,” Loric told her. “The stories all say once the Heart Crystal is outside, the dungeon will die and all the creatures will be destroyed.”
“What about you, your Highness?”
“I’ll guard your back. It’s been too easy to get here, so I think there is one last assault being planned.” Loric gave her the three bags of holding that he had brought from Silvertree, Grimhelm and Thiert’s bodies. “Take these. If I don’t get out of here alive, take Grimhelm’s and Silvertree’s to their families. Donate Thiert’s riches to a Temple of Light and take the Crystal to my Father. Tell him how I died and that Aracan Katuvana is making a bid for the Four Kingdoms again.”
Kalytia’s green eyes widened and tears began to slide down her smooth pale cheeks. “Highness…”
“Just do it, Kalytia!” Loric snapped. I can’t do this if she cries.
“Yes, Lady Cleric of Espilieth, you do that.” A deep voice said from behind them and Loric spun bringing his sabre up defensively. “You take the Heart Crystal, and your precious prince dies.”
From a cloud of steam stepped the biggest demon Loric had ever seen. It had bright, red skin and shaggy fur covered legs ending in polished black cloven hooves. Its upper body rippled with muscles and a fairly handsome human face was topped by massive black horns that scraped the ceiling. The Devil Demon looked down on the two humans with a broad grin that Loric recognised.
“You!” he gasped.
The bright gold, pupil-less eyes curved as the Demon burst out laughing.
“Did you really think that I would let you escape mortal?” the deep voice asked.
Kalytia began praying in Elvish. A bright white light surrounded Loric and she turned back to neutralising the traps.
“A Holy Barrier? Do you really think that will save him?” the demon asked her, but she ignored it, working swiftly on each trap and moving forward as soon as it was safe, trusting that Loric could survive long enough to escape as well.
Loric felt the blessing of Espilieth as the white light surrounded him. The exhaustion he had been feeling lifted.
“Cower, Demon!” he shouted, “for I shall be your undoing!”
The Devil Demon laughed.
“So predictable. You heroes never learn,” as he swung a huge scythe round in front of him. The blade gleamed evilly in the blessing’s light and struck blue sparks from the paving as it cut a fine line into the stones.
“Hurry, Kalytia!” Loric yelled and raised his sabre. “Come on then, Demon.”
The Demon swung its weapon as Kalytia finished the last trap and opened the door.
“Come on, Loric!” she screamed and threw herself out into the morning sunlight.
She waited for what seemed like hours and finally Loric appeared at the top of the steps, dragging himself along the floor. She dropped the bags in the light and rushed to him.
“Loric? Highness?” she said softly.
“He got me Kalytia,” the prince said.
She looked back over his body and held back a scream. From mid-thigh he had nothing there. A thick trail of blood led back into the dungeon.
Kalytia looked back into the darkness and saw a pair of golden pupil-less eyes with her face reflected in them.
The reflection was different to the one she saw in her hand mirror every morning, the murky green eyes tainted with unholy desire and the blonde hair brassy and dull.
“See the beauty that your goddess hides you from.” the demon sneered. “See how you would be without the light she shines on you. Are you truly worthy of her notice?”
Kalytia caught her breath. I am ugly inside.
“Come, Lady Cleric, renounce your goddess and her fake splendour. Join me and see your true beauty shine.” The taunt became soft and appealing. “I can give you what you desire.”
Kalytia saw her tainted reflection brighten, the hair curling effortlessly and softly around her face, her eyes shining jade with light and purpose from skin as smooth as silk. On one cheek a blood red rose bloomed between black thorns and deep red lips parted provocatively.
Her hand rose toward her face, eyes widening with wonder. I could look so much more…attractive.
“Kalytia.” Loric tugged on her cloak and she looked down into his blue eyes. “Don't give in.”
The face she saw reflected in his eyes was more exquisite than the one she saw in her mirror. What is it he sees that I don't?
“It is his love for you.” the Goddess whispered in her mind and for a moment, Kalytia felt Espilieth's hand touch her shoulder. The cleric straightened. “He sees you as I see you, good and holy and beautiful. You are more than worthy.”
As the goddess' presence left her mind, Kalytia smiled and looked back at the demon. “No.”
A laugh echoed out of the passageway. “Go, Lady Cleric. Tell the Four Kingdoms what is approaching them. Tell them that My Master has returned,” the demon said as it approached the entrance. Its eyes had black slit pupils now.
Not possessed anymore; it’s just an ordinary devil demon now. She sighed, feeling a little disappointed. I wonder what would have happened if I had taken the demon lord up on his offer?
“The crystal, Kalytia, expose the crystal to sunlight!” Loric said weakly “It will collapse the dungeon.”
She shook her thoughts aside and scrambled up, grabbing the bag with the crystal. “I will do it, Demon!”
“I care not what you do, mortal. I may not be able to stand in the sunlight at the moment, but once Aracan Katuvana triumphs over Galivor, the rest of the kingdoms shall fall and I shall exit the underground to ride with him to victory!”
“I shall never allow that to come to pass!” Kalytia shouted and opened the neck of the bag.
The sunlight flooded into the bag and the crystal pulsed red one last time. Then the colour faded and the crystal turned a cloudy white. The ground beneath them shook and Kalytia ran back, dragging Loric out of the way as the entrance crashed down. She caught one more glimpse of the Devil Demon before it teleported away and the tunnel filled with rubble.
* * *
Kalytia completed her report of the adventure to King Koric in a flat tone. It still hurts, will it ever stop hurting? She hoped this was one of his saner moments. She was wrong.
“You are lying,” he said calmly.
“I swear by Espilieth that I tell the truth, your Majesty,” she replied, noticing that Loric’s brother, Korin looked uncomfortable.
The King looked down at the Heart Crystal on the table in front of her and
pointed to it.
“Korin. Bring that to me.”
Korin nodded and the young man stepped down from the dais to pick up the Crystal. His eyes widened as he saw Loric’s signet ring on her finger.
“Is that Loric’s…?”
“Yes, your Highness. He gave it to me with his dying breath and asked that I tell you something.” She lowered her voice.
“What?”
“These were his exact words: ‘Tell Korin that I swear by the statue of Freja our Mother gave him. Everything she says is true. Do not trust our Father with this. As I die I lay this charge on you, Brother … stop this evil from happening. Destroy the Heart Crystals in every dungeon.” A tear ran down her cheek at the memory.
Korin turned back to look at his Father and realised something had changed about him. He whispered to Kalytia as he picked up the crystal.
“Look at my Father’s eyes. Is there anything different?”
She did as asked and her own eyes widened with horror.
“He is possessed, your Highness. He has the gold and black eyes of the Devil Demon.”
“That‘s what I thought. Run, Lady Cleric, and if I survive the next few minutes, I will meet you in the Temple of Light. I swear this by my brother’s ring.” Korin turned his back on her and she bolted.
The King frowned. “Why did she run? I am not going to hurt her.”
“I told her to, Father,” Korin replied.
“Ah well. No matter, bring the crystal here, Son. You are my Heir now.”
Korin stopped a step below the throne and looked at his father’s Lord Steward beside the throne, hoping that the man wouldn’t try to stop him. A slight narrowing of the Steward’s eyes and an even slighter nod made him feel better.
“Do you acknowledge me as your official heir, Father?”
“You are my only living heir. Of course that makes you my official heir.”
Korin didn’t move and the greedy expression on his father’s face darkened.
“All right! I name you, Prince Korin, last Son of my late wife Princess Selestiale of Jira, my Official and only Heir to the Kingdom of Galivor.” The King glared, “Happy now?”
“Well, Lord Garonne?” Korin looked at the Lord Steward again.
