It took me weeks to find my way back home and to deliver the news of what had happened at the Battle of Swampbush. Similar stories were circulating from other locations along the borderlands. As I guessed would happen, the Harkonian forces had grown restless and desired plunder. No other Harkonians had ever gone as deep as they did into Arcanian lands, they had even attempted to siege some of the more wealthy cities. An organised army of Arcanians had been arranged to eliminate the Harkonian force. I do not know what became of their leader and his daughter. I can only presume both were killed. Meanwhile, Nadine had been searching for me all over the lands surrounding the Military Academy. I was officially labeled as a missing person by the academy, presumed dead or worse. As much as I loved Nadine, I thought it was time to go out into the world on my own and begin to take in the sights and sounds for myself. For all of her good qualities, she was far too protective. I desired to wander and to see what mysteries Arcana had waiting to be discovered. If I really lost my way, I could return home. Nadine eventually got married and had children of her own. I think it was best this way, for I believe I was too broken a person to bear the mantle of her merchant empire.
I suppose I should tell you why I do not like caves. It was early in my travels that my hatred for these cliff holes was formed. Though it felt undignified, I managed to survive by scavenging food from the undergrowth and stealing supplies when I had to. In the Arcanian wilderness, safe havens were few. The beasts of the land constantly stalked through the trees and undergrowth, and I always had to be on edge to be able to react to their attacks in time. On one cold night, I happened upon a large cave. I presumed it to be a better option than whatever was waiting for me in the woods, so I set up camp in a small crevice in the wall, tucked away from the main entrance and any peering eyes in the darkness. Before I had lit a small fire to keep the cold at bay, I heard voices. Steps echoed across the stone floor, and I was glad I hadn’t lit a fire. Figures clad in sickly green clothing were forming a slow procession through the entrance of the cave, holding burning torches. I shrunk and tried to hide myself as best as I could in my small crevice, watching as they silently passed me. One or two them looked around, though their faces were obscured by their shadowy hoods. My guess at the time was that they were cultists of some sort. What was even more ominous was the sound of chattering metal echoing through the tunnels. Though every fibre of my being told me to stay away, curiosity got the better of me. Their procession was long and many had passed by my crevice before it was safe to leave. Before I knew it, I began creeping behind them, similar to the stalking beasts of the Arcanian wilderness. Their slow pace and their torches allowed me to follow them with ease. Lacking any sort of significant marker to note which way to return, I resorted to using a handful of berries that I had collected earlier. I marked the way out of the cave by squashing the berries along the cavern’s wall. Seeing the smeared mess in the dim light reassured me slightly, though I could feel from the bottom of my toes that I was in a terrible place. The clanging of metal became louder and louder, almost until the point where it was deafening. Something sinister was at work, I knew that much. It seemed I lacked the will to do anything but continue smashing berries on the wall and continue stalking the cultists’ procession.
I walked for hours, and had long run out of berries by the time I came upon the final location of the procession. Torchlight revealed countless empty cages hung from the ceiling. Despite being so deep underground, a chilling wind was whistling through the rusted iron bars of the cages, escaping through the countless tunnels which led to the chamber. Numerous skeletons were strung up everywhere. Age had caused them to take on a ghastly yellow colour, and the stench… It almost made me retch. I am only guessing, but there must’ve been hundreds of years of decay in there. Though I did not know it at the time, but I had stumbled upon one of the most dreaded locations in all of Arcana. It was the sight of worship to the ancient gods of Arcana. People offered themselves as sacrifices beneath the altars of these gods, only to find that their violent deaths bound them to this world. The existence of these gods had been disproven long ago, due to our advancements with magic and our understanding of mystical forces. However, all of that death and misery had left residues of power in these dark places, and there were some Arcanians crazy enough to try to tap into these places of death. There are several such places in Arcana, one of which we passed on the road. Though there is great power to tap into, these sites are shunned by all but the most insane. To even approach such places was to openly invite death upon yourself. So, as I was watching, the cultists performed an elaborate rite in front of a great obsidian pillars. It glowed with a dark energy as they chanted dully. Bones rattled against each other all over the room, and began jumping like sparks from a fire. To describe the sound as ghastly was a understatement. Covering my ears, I hoped and waited for the end of the rattling. The end soon came, and was replaced by something even worse.
‘We hear. What do you wish to hear of us?’ I froze dead in my tracks. There was no way of telling where the voice had come from, it was as though it was coming from the whole chamber at once.
‘We come to discern your will. We have completed your dictated task. Tell us what we must do now.’ A powerful and tall figure amongst the cultists spoke. Given what little information I had, I presumed him to be the leader. I was not sure who, or what, he was speaking to. Even now, despite my extensive research on these subjects after joining Brahm, my only theory is that it was some sort of entity born of the sacrificed peoples’ suffering and sorrow.
‘Souls still cry for vengeance. You must continue on your path.’ This seemed to infuriate the leader of the cultists.
‘We have assassinated three targets at your bidding. Please, tell us where we might strike next.’
‘He is a proud soldier and leader. Feel our winds, they will guide you where you need to go.’
After growing stronger for a few moments, the howling winds ceased, and an eerie silence fell across the chamber. The cultists begin shuffling off, and their leader seemed content at the result of their meeting. Waiting for them to be a decent distance away from me, the winds suddenly started again before I could follow them. None of the cultists seemed to notice and kept walking away, taking the precious light of their torches with them. Every part of my body felt like it was weighted down, and I couldn’t even move any of my limbs. Helplessly, I watched as their lights disappeared completely, and I was left alone in the darkness. Through the howling winds, I heard that raspy voice again.
‘You are not of their kind. Your presence is repulsive. Explain, or our song will echo through your ears until you find the edge of madness.’ Lacking any other option, I spoke out.
‘I am Jacques. Former trader and soldier. I came to this cave seeking shelter, and followed them out of curiosity.’
‘Jacques. We find this word displeasing to our tongue. Do you understand where you stand now?’ Trying not to let my fear show, I shook my head. Whatever entity had taken me hostage seemed to understand.
‘You stand where the dead were offered to false gods, and where we gained our first steps into this cruel and ignorant world. We are the cold justice of death. We will vindicate what has been wrought.’
‘If you are justice, then why do you negotiate with men so willing to harm others?’ I called out into the darkness. Some of the bones rattled in the darkness, as though the entity was thinking.
‘Justice and vindication must be enacted through whatever means we can obtain. We cannot leave this site, as their cries for vengeance sustains us. These impure men will find nothing but death at the end of their pact.’
‘What exactly are you?’ Again, the bones rattle, and a hoarse reply comes from the chamber.
‘We are nothing but the promise of the void, where all shall reside eventually. Though our black canvas is boundless, some shades are darker than others. These shades must be brought into balance, and we are the painter which brings this balance.’ Pausing, it seemed to notice how frust
rated I was, lacking any real answers for my questions.
‘You will understand our riddles one day, when you join us, Jacques the soldier and trader. We are the final justice of the grave, and it is through us that salvation and damnation are offered. Vengeance resides in these caverns. You will act as our servant now, as those ignorant wanderers before you have done.’
‘So, you would suggest that I enter a deal which will be the end of me? I think I will decline.’
‘Then you will be consumed by our void.’ Darkness crushed me from every direction. I could feel it attempting to extinguish my life, pressing down and almost shattering my bones. It mocked me with more of its cryptic speech.
‘Balance will be brought to the shadows of this land. Each individual has a price to pay, and we will extract it. Even you have a debt that must be repaid, Jacques.’ Just as I thought death was going to finally take me, the shadows suddenly reeled from me, as though it were frightened.
‘You…. Are gifted. Do not think this is enough to save you from us.’ It attempted again and again to crush me, but something was warding it away. Over the years evil had formed and stirred, it that chamber had actually taken on a physical form, which devoured the light around it. With that vile darkness pushed back, my eyes could partially make out shapes in the dank caverns. Wasting no time, I immediately sprinted for one of the many tunnels that lead into the chamber. Like an airborne viper, the black vapours snaked behind me, seeking to devour me. It whispered again and again as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me.
‘The futility of fleeing will lead you to death eventually. There is nowhere that is hidden from us. We will seek you out through whatever means we can, and we will bring you everlasting night.’ Each whisper was almost like a threatening hiss. Fear alone fuelled me, and I had no idea where I was going. Each twist and turn through the tunnels seemed just like the previous ones. What hope I had was soon fading, and my exhaustion caught up to me quickly. Whatever it was, it was catching up to me. Roaring in triumph, it poised itself to envelope me. But, as all seemed lost, blinding light began shining through the tunnel. Reeling from the brightness, the darkness retreated back into the tunnels. It spat out one last threat before disappearing in the shining rays.
‘You have not escaped. We are eternal. We will balance the canvas.’ The sun had risen, and it seemed that I had run into a tunnel composed of a most curious stone. This stone acted like a mirror, magnifying and reflecting the light. My entire ordeal seems like something you’d read out of one of the old legends. A great darkness comes and tries to destroy hope in its wake, and the sun comes and banishes it. Crawling through the increasing narrow tunnel, I eventually tumble out of a narrow opening on the other side of the cliff. Though it had not seemed like it the entire night, luck was with me. Not only had I escaped a grisly death, I had come out nearly on top of a road away from that place. For some time, I waited, resting and trying to understand what I had seen inside that place. Whoever the cultists were, they seemed to act out for the shadows in that chamber, reaching where it cannot. They intended to assassinate someone, but I had no idea who. Many questions swam through my mind, but no answers came, all I could do was make guesses. When I was finally ready to get moving again, I made for the closest tavern. People were surprised when I asked about the death chamber in the mountains. One particular fellow who had researched the ancient history of the surrounding area gave me a lot of insight.
‘That is where people in the olden days used to gather. It’s unknown whether or not it was before or after the forming of the two kingdoms. Many were offered in sacrifice, and I can only presume that their spirits found nothing like what they were expecting. Volunteering as a sacrifice supposedly granted you immediate passage to the most holy place for the dead.’ He looked at me for a moment, noticing how I was battered and bruised.
‘You didn’t go in there, did you? That place is not ideal for exploring. It’s not wise to fool with the dead. I’ve also heard rumours about worshippers returning to that place. I doubt they would be happy to have uninvited guests.’ Not desiring to speak about the evil I had found at the heart of that cave, I decided to be vague.
‘Let’s just say I’ve had a rough night.’ Seeing that I had no desire to speak about my misadventure, he returned to his drink.
‘Then may your rough night be a memory only for you to recall, my friend.’ As soon as I had learned what I could about the history of that region, I immediately got back on the road. It had made clear that its reach was short, but I didn’t want to risk it being able to find me again. A caravan was travelling by, though it took a lot of persuasion and a little bit of my coin, the leader of the caravan agreed to allow me to join it for a while. Time was of the essence for me, and I had to get away from that accursed place as quickly as possible. When the caravan stopped at the next town, I kept going on foot. I did not even sleep in that time, I ran and moved and kept putting distance between myself and that entity until I could run no further. I stayed for a night at an inn, and thankfully it did not come for me. Sleeping was a terrible ordeal, as I was plagued with nightmares of consuming shadows and unspeakable evil. When I woke up, I immediately made for the bar in order to try and drown any thought of that thing in alcohol. While I was soaking myself, I heard some terrible news from a traveller at the bar. A highly esteemed and beloved nobleman had been assassinated in Stromfor. He was highly decorated due to his many victories against the Harkonians across multiple skirmishes in the borderlands. Some said he had even slain a hundred of them by his own hand in honourable combat. Certain rumours suggested that a crazed cult was responsible for the killing. Despite attempting to forget about what I had witnessed, the thought occurred to me that there might be a connection between those cultists I had seen and the dead nobleman.
Arcana: A recollection Page 11
