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NBB2 - The Chaos Rifts - chapter 16
🕑 Added 2021-01-09 14:40:02 +0000 UTCSig stared at the empty wasteland. The two stone containers stood beside him, still untouched, a slight layer of dust forming.
"How long are we going to wait?" Derin asked carefully. "We've been standing here for two days now."
"Without him, how are we going to get Scathia to do what we want?" Sig replied.
Derin was quiet for a second, weighing his words carefully.
"You underestimate yourself and us," he finally said.
"You can easily end Wyrms, travel through rock and bone, and fly. I wonder if even Solus could beat you."
Sig shook his head, a mock smile on his lips as he turned to Derin. "And you underestimate Solus. You have not seen him when he gets serious."
"Perhaps. But we can't wait any longer. Rifts keep appearing, and if we don't find a way to stop them, it won't matter anymore. You've heard Tirela's stories."
Sig didn't respond, and after a while, Derin sighed and turned back to the small group behind him. As he walked back, he ignored their looks and stared at their goal: a massive city sprawling up a mountain.
The mountain stood on the border of a massive cliff, from which the wasteland dropped down into a white basin. The ground shimmered when the sun hit it, glittering like nothing Derin had ever seen.
The city of Tendraal was just as impressive. Made solely from bone, it dwarfed Skulltown in size. White towers, connected by immense bridges, stood between a chaotic assortment of buildings. Not a single bit of the wasteland ground could be seen, as the buildings interlocked and interwoven together like a dense tapestry. No two buildings adjacent seemed the same height or shape, creating a chaotic mismatch that hurt Derin's eyes.
A towering wall surrounded the masses of towering bone, while a small band of evenly spaced out square buildings stood between the wall and the city. Where the city touched the cliff leading down to the white basin stood an assortment of bone staircases. The city and the height of the cliff obscured what was below them.
"Are we leaving yet?" Tatjie asked, lying on her side, turning her gaze to the city. "I want to see that city up close!"
Derin shot her an annoyed glance. "Remember what we came here for?"
"Sure, sure! But come on, aren't you the least bit curious?" She pointed at the three tallest pillars, connected at the top by an enormous skull and her eyes began to sparkle. The pillars rose above the city, built high against the side of the mountain.
"Look at that! They should call that Skulltown!"
Derin was about to laugh when Sig stepped beside him.
"We will leave if he isn't back by tonight. It will be better if we enter the city after dark as it'll make it easier to hide."
Sig's sounded tired and uncertain, but he got two loud cheers in reply.
Tatjie laughed at Tirela, raising a balled fist. "Finally! Tell me, how does this city compare to Bastion?"
The orange undead shook her head, laughed, and pointed to a spot far away from the city. "If it stretched from there to there, it could compare," she said, moving her finger to a point at the other side of the city. She had indicated a region at least ten times the size of Tendraal.
Derin and Sig shared a horrified look.
"And that city fell in days?" Derin muttered.
"We leave at dusk," Sig said, turning back to his watch of the wasteland.
---
When Solus woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was hot, and his throat hurt when he instinctively drew a breath. He still felt tired, and his energy was low. A soft bubbling and sloshing sound came from all around him, while an orange glow penetrated his eyelids. Opening them, he groaned. The walls around him glowed red with an intensely bright light that hurt his eyes. Covering them with his hand, he got up and gazed between his fingers, seeing orange and red swirls on all the walls.
Up and around, he sensed only molten rock. Lava and chaos raged outside of the rapidly disintegrating stone walls. Although he had made it as thick as he thought was needed, over half of the stone was gone already.
Ideas and a slowly growing panic mixed in his mind making it hard to think. He sat down with a thud, and the stone groaned and cracked from the impact.
"Not again," he grumbled.
He quickly spread his senses to repair the stone below him, and his eyes widened. There was less lava down, and more of the layer of rock remained. Scanning further down, through the chaotic lava that battered his senses, he found the lava changed back to stone.
That's where I need to go! he thought before gritting his teeth. Almost a hundred meters of lava was between him and the colder, malleable rock.
Scanning up, he couldn't get past the lava to detect the surface, and all around him seemed to indicate it went on forever. Searching for stone to strengthen the walls, he found nothing.
Down it is.
It was the only thing he could imagine. The sound of the sloshing and popping was getting louder, pushing him to haste.
He drew in the stone around him, feeling it rebel against him. As the room shrunk around him, the walls closing in, he tried to create a pipe of stone through the lava. For every meter he pushed the stone down, his mana drained away, and he scrambled for one of the two orbs he still had.
Draining it, he continued moving the stone through the lava, but halfway to his goal, he was out of stone. Staring at the pipe that already glowed crimson, the outside crumbling, he knew he had no time left. The stone would dissolve if he waited.
Steeling himself, he jumped down, trying to draw the stone from above with him as he fell. He managed to grab some, and he drew it along with him, trying to strengthen the tube. Around him, he felt the tube buckle and the little extra stone barely held it together.
A second before hit feet would crash into the bottom of the tunnel, Solus knew he was making a mistake. Pressing his hands against the sides, he tried to stop his downward momentum, but it was too late. His feet struck the end of the tunnel and pierced through the stone.
Pain, so much pain- he only just managed to stop roaring and blasting apart the tube. His legs felt like red agony. As his concentration flagged, he instinctively drew all the stone to him in one big rush, creating a thick, small round container around him. The energy of his mana-field depleted instantly, while the mana-stone crumbled in his hand. Jerking his legs out of the crumbling stone and atop the small ledge he had made, he stared in shock at the blackened grey skin, covered in orange blisters. The stone armor had disintegrated just above the knees.
Staring through the holes in the ground, he saw glowing yellow lava ooze up. With an immense effort, he closed the stone, pushing back the lava. Black spots appeared in front of him, and a soft ping seemed to fade oddly. Feeling for the last of the orbs, he fumbled with it. When he finally got his fingers around it, he drained mana from it as fast as he could.
The energy streamed straight for his legs, not a single bit arriving at his mana-field. His legs sucked up all the energy like a bottomless pit and began to itch like crazy. When the mana-orb dulled, he was as tired as before, and his legs were still black, but the orange blisters had withdrawn, leaving only a few scars behind.
With a last, helpless look at the mana-orb, he drained it dry, feeling a small trickle reach his manafield. Barely enough to remove the desire to sleep.
No, he thought, resisting the urge.
If he fell asleep now, he would die. Looking around the tiny room, too small to even stand, he sensed the outside layer of stone disintegrate steadily. The larger chunks drifted up as the container slowly sank through the lava. It took moments before he realized the implications. Scanning down, his meager remaining mana draining from just the effort, he felt the rock below get closer. It was still too far to control, but the small stone capsule was steadily moving down.
He tried to remain still, ignoring the pain from his legs, the weariness of his body, and listening to soft sounds from outside. It reminded him of the sounds Norg's stomach made after he ate wyrm flesh once. The image caused a strained smile to surface on his face. Trying to focus on the happy thoughts, he snapped awake when he felt the downward motion slowing.
Scanning down, he knew he wouldn't make it. The stone was whittling away too fast, causing the sinking to slow. Small yellow cracks were appearing across the stone beside him. The temperature in the small room was so high that the hairs on his head clumped together into a pudgy mass.
Looking at his legs, he shivered as he realized what he might have to do. He waited, trying to regain some energy until the stone was ready to crack.
Rising, standing hunched over in the small room, he focused on his remaining mana. It wasn't a lot. Taking a deep breath of the scalding and stinking hot air, images of what he had done since awakening flashed through his mind. A single one stood out, for a second crystal clear amidst the others.
He was lying on his back, on the ground, moments after absorbing his first mana. Not ended, still existing, he was staring at the sky, enjoying the moment and the fact he hadn't crumbled.
Remembering how he had felt back then, the prospect of all that was to come, his anger surged forward, pushing away the fear and hesitation. He wasn't ready to stop being yet! He wanted to experience so much more first, perhaps even the ridiculousness that Norg and Vingria were having! Pushed by his anger and desire to be, he drew the entirety of the stone that remained tightly around him in thick armor.
For a split-second, he hung in the air, then with the absence of the container, the lava flooded inward, wrapping around him. A blazing heat slammed into him, but he started moving down, swimming, the term popped in his head as he headed down.
The stone barely held, and his mana was all but drained when his arms felt resistance from the slightly cooler, thicker lava. Pushing forward, he struck something solid and sensed the presence of the stone. With no regard to the consequences, he shaped it, creating a tunnel down. Abruptly an opening formed below him, and together with the lava, he plummeted down a thin tube. He continued making it deeper, but although it became easier as the stone cooled, his mana was all but gone.
As his mind grew slow and woozy, he knew he had to close the hole above him, or the lava would flow down and end him as he fell unconscious. Ignoring the pain in his head, he closed the tunnel above him while he fell. The last of his vision disappeared with a final snap, and completely blind, he fell further, unable even to sense the rock. A string of pings came from his status window, followed by a single odd noise he had never heard before.
He struck the bottom of the tunnel, stone splinters flying everywhere while the bottom crumbled below him, then he blacked out.
--
The setting sun colored the white bone city of Tendraal orange and pink. Dozens of tiny figures moved from the wasteland towards the city. Some dragged wyrmlings, others odd bone sleds with unmoving shapes on them.
Derin examined them. Most were familiar variations of the low-grade undead that he knew from Skulltown. Those were the ones who didn't bother gaining mana-orbs to get better patterns but were fine with those freely available. He was trying to find more evolved ones to compare and see how good their chances were.
"We are going," Sig said, his voice emotionless and steady. He grabbed the two containers, easily holding both in front of his chest.
Derin sighed and got up. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Tatjie yelled and jumped up, looking at the far off city with glittering eyes.
"About time!" she shouted with a large grin. Not holding back, she grabbed Tirela's arm and drew her to her feet.
Tirela frowned, her thick yellow eyebrows almost touching, but she didn't resist.
"Let's go!" Tatjie said, marching towards the city while dragging Tirela with her.
Derin saw the orange undead look at him in confusion but not resisting.
He shrugged, not sure what to tell her. Tatjie had always been odd, but ever since Tirela joined them, it had become worse. He turned to Sig, who was walking lightly towards the city. His face was unreadable, as it usually was.
"Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to go well…" Derin muttered to himself.
As they neared the city, they started walking closer together. The other undead heading to Tendraal all seemed to belong to groups of seven or eight. Many of them were coming back empty-handed, and the fleshies amongst them had worried looks on their faces. They cast constant glances at the stairs that led down to the now no longer glittering white stretch of wasteland below the cliff.
"Something is up with that staircase…" Derin mumbled to the others.
Tatjie, unlike her usual self, looked at him with a serious frown. "They seem afraid of it."
"They are afraid to be put to work," Sig said, keeping his eyes on one of the enormous gates in the bone wall.
"What does that mean?" Tirela asked.
"To live in Tendraal, you need to pay manaorbs."
"Just like in Skulltown!" Tatjie said, a bit too loud for Derin's tastes.
"Yes. But if you can't pay here, the second day you are put to work in the mines for a day and a night."
Tatjie shrugged. "That doesn't sound too bad."
Sig didn't reply immediately, looking at Tirela while motioning with his head at one of the containers.
"Grab a manaorb, but make sure nobody sees we have more."
Derin saw Tirela blink in surprise before doing as Sig said. She held the orb close to her chest, covering it with both hands.
"I don't know what they do in the mines, but all the undead seem to fear being sent there. When I was here before, I didn't get a chance to investigate."
"If they fear it, why don't they just leave?" Tatjie said, echoing Derins's thoughts.
Sig shook his head. "I don't know."
Tatjie opened her mouth to say something, and Sig hissed.
"Quiet, we are almost at the gate."
Derin realized Sig was right. They had arrived at the gate, a long tunnel with two wide-open doors ready to block it. Each door had massive white bone chains attached to it, running through the tunnel and disappearing behind the walls.
At the inside of the tunnel stood two hulking undead. Pale white and with bloodshot eyes, they had their chests puffed out while taking orbs from the undead passing them. Each wore black, roughly stitched pants that stopped just above the ankle. A wide belt held it up, and an assortment of bone tools hung from it. Everything seemed made from Wyrm skin.
Ahead of the group was a group of five zombies that muttered to each other. They were arguing, and two of them had a look of panic in their eyes. The other three constantly pushed them away, and when they arrived at the hulking gatekeepers, they quickly handed in an orb each. The other two stopped and stared at the guards, shaking their heads.
One of the guards laughed and stepped forward. When the two zombies backed up, he jumped forward and grabbed them. With a wide grin, he dragged them back to the other guard, who had drawn out something that resembled a wyrm tooth.
"No. We can find two tomorrow! One for each!" One of the zombies screamed, trying to slap away the tooth that was moving toward his face. He didn't succeed. The guard held his arms, ignored the protests, and drew a square symbol between his eyebrows. A moment later, he did the same thing with the other zombie. When they finished, they tossed the two zombies further into the tunnel, towards the city beyond.
"Get lost!" One of the guards said with a rumbling laugh. Then he turned back to the line, accepting orbs from the undead that had quietly waited.
When their small group was up, Tirela stepped forward.
The guard that had dragged the zombies back looked at her, and his eyes widened.
"What do we have here! A new sort of zombie? Pleasing to the eyes, don't you think, Dough?"
"Keep your new infatuations to yourself and take the orb," the other growled, his gaze passing uninterested over the others. He stopped when he saw Sig, taller than even he was, and carrying two containers.
"She pays for all of us," Sig said, his voice even softer than usual.
"Oh, does she now?" The first guard smiled, but his smile vanished when Tirela glared at him and handed him the orb.
"A wyrm orb! How did you get this?"
A sudden silence came from the line of undead behind them, and the second guard stepped forward to examine the orb.
"By killing a Wyrm," Sig said as he started walking again.
Derin kept his eyes on the two guards as he followed Sig. Something about the whole situation reminded him of Skulltown, but not in a good way.
The two guards kept looking at them but made no move to stop them. When Sig passed them, the second one hissed. "And what is in the container?"
Derin flinched, but Sig just kept walking.
"A gift for Scathia," he said, causing a sharp intake from the guard.
They didn't say anything more, but Derin took a look across his shoulder as they exited the tunnel. Both guards were staring after them, their eyes small and calculating.
This will end badly, Derin thought as he turned to the small stretch of open wasteland that separated them from the city. As he stared at the sprawling city ahead of them, he wished he had stayed in Skulltown.
Tatjie stood beside him, silently gawking ahead, her eyes darting across the towering buildings in the distance.
They stuck close together as they headed towards one of the many small passages between the methodically placed square buildings. They had no windows, only small openings at the top with white bars in between. A single door of bone bars like a ribcage showed what was inside—Undead. Some were sitting on the ground or lying in a corner, while a few stood staring into the distance without seeing anything.
Derin stared inside as they passed, and a dozen zombies looked back at him. Bruised and battered and with gashes across their bare torsos, they gazed at him with envy and longing.
"What-"
Sig cleared his throat loudly, drowning out the question Derin asked. "Don't ask. Everyone here would know, and we don't want to raise more suspicion than we already have."
Derin nodded, keeping his mouth closed as they continued on in silence. They passed two more of the enormous bone prisons before arriving in a dusty street. It stretched out to each side for a great distance. At the other side was a wall of interconnecting buildings, four, five, or even six stories high. Small staircases led to narrow passageways left between the tightly packed buildings. Close to where they stood was a wider opening between two buildings that led to a street. The buildings to the side touched high above, making it look like a tunnel. Every few seconds, a warm wind blew billowing clouds of dust out.
Two towering skeletons covered in white bone plate armor moved inside, unfazed by the wind and dust.
Seeing their purposeful step, Derin wondered where they were heading. Turning to Sig, he saw the other look around for only a moment before moving towards the wide street.
"Do you even know where to go?" Tatjie asked, finally breaking her stunned silence. She followed Sig's tall black figure, looking up at the buildings.
"Not yet," Sig said as he stepped into the street. At that moment, a strong gust of wind struck them head-on, dust, and sand pelting their faces.
Tatjie cursed, spitting out a bit of sand. "Bile and bone, that's a strong wind. If an awoken tries to go in here, they will be blown to bits!"
The street ahead of them was dark, the little light that came from the opening casting long shadows. The red light of the setting sun crept through a few holes and cracks between the buildings. Besides the two armored skeletons, a few other undead moved ahead of them, along the curved road that bent around one of the buildings. More small stairs and tunnels in the sides led away from the main road.
"So? Where are we going?" Tatjie asked. She was staring down the street with a frown.
"We need to find a place to stay for now. Last time I was here, there weren't many free quarters left in this area," Sig replied, marching down the road.
"What? Aren't we supposed to find Scathia?"
Sig shook his head, and for a moment, Derin saw the uncertainty on it before the typical stoic look replaced it.
"Not yet. We need a place for you to stay while I scout around."
Nobody replied this time, everyone following Sig down the road.
Derin looked inside a few of the smaller alleys and saw doors on each side of the winding corridors.
As they crossed the bend in the road, they arrived at a massive intersection of dozens of roads. Undead in many shapes and sizes moved along it, mostly deeper into the city. Sig followed the masses, and the rest followed him, deeper into the city. The street, also riddled with small alleys and stairs, led to another intersection, and then another, and soon Derin had no idea where he was.
After he lost track of how many intersections they passed and streets they had followed, they crossed a corner and saw a vast square ahead of them. The last rays of dark red light came through the open square roof. Lining the walls were dozens of balconies, stairs, and bone ladders leading up to them. Undead sat and stood in small groups on the balconies or ledges, looking down. Their soft mutters filled the square, drowning out the soft howling of the wind.
In the middle of the square was a bone table and on it stood a green zombie. He wore odd red leather pants and had bulbous yellow eyes that seemed ready to pop out at any moment. Dozens of undead stood in front of him, while two massive red skeletons flanked the table. The yellow eyes passed across the undead below.
"What's this?" Tatjie asked as she moved forward.
Sig frowned but followed her without answering, and together they joined the growing crowd. The undead around them were mostly fleshies, and all belonged to groups. Currently, they were all whispering amongst each other.
As they stood waiting, more undead came, joining the gathering.
When Derin guessed there were almost a hundred undead gathered, the green zombie made a wet coughing noise. Spitting yellow mucus on the ground, he raised his head.
"Fine. This should be enough," he said in a voice that made Derin think he wasn't sure. The zombie continued, raising his voice until it turned shrill and harsh.
"So you all know how this goes, but because I know you're all dense as bone, I'll repeat it!" He raised a finger in the air. "For one mana-orb I'll find you an empty room in one of the outer rings. For four, you get quarters in the middle, and for those who got lucky, I can get you a small quarter in the center for twenty!"
None of the undead complained, waiting quietly for the zombie to continue.
Staring at them, the zombie nodded when nobody spoke. "Good, a smart bunch this time! Now let's hope you can pay up! Raise your hand if you are looking for a room in the outer ring."
Sig lowered his head beside Tirela. "Grab another orb, and make sure nobody sees."
Derin frowned as he saw most of the zombies around them raising their hands, some still arguing amongst themselves as they did. Sig wanted to have this guy arrange a room for them? And why did he keep asking Tirela?
Tirela looked at Sig, then sighed and nodded. Raising a hand beside the stone container, she pressed it against and then through the stone. With a small plop, she yanked out an orb while the hole closed instantly.
"You're like Solus!" Sig muttered incredulously. He had never seen or heard about another stone shaper.
Tirela quickly pressed the stone close to her, covering it with her hands in front of her chest. None of the undead seemed to have noticed. After a moment, she looked at Derin. "Not exactly the same. Right now, I can only shape what I touch."
"Still… you could touch a lot if you put your hands down!" Derin muttered, wondering how much she could shape in a single go.
The green zombie raised his voice again, a thin smile across his yellow-flecked lips. "So, most of you were out of luck again? Fine! Nobody can say Borl doesn't help the unlucky!" He snapped his fingers, and three other green zombies came from one of the small alleys.
"Put the orbs on the table and then follow them!" Borl shouted.
Except for two other groups, all the undead in the massive gathering moved forward, and one by one, they placed orbs on the table. Borl followed everything, his bulbous eyes almost glued on the growing pile.
When the last put an orb down, the whole group left through a small alleyway.
Borl stared at the three groups that remained. Three black zombies, each with enormous tusks and covered in oddly shaped white bone plates, stepped forward.
"Borl, we need a room in the center, but we are one orb short. Make us a deal!"
Derin and the others looked at the black zombies. After a second, Derin turned to the last group. It was a ragtag bunch of skeletons, zombies that surrounded a smooth red-skinned fleshy with long black hair. Besides the red one, none of the others seemed to look around or move, just standing there, looking at the mana-orbs.
Borl didn't immediately reply to the black zombie's request, staring at the one who spoke for a while.
"Nualir… you know I normally don't do this. However, as you are one of my best customers." He let his words hang for a second before nodding. "If you bring me two to compensate when you return, I will allow it. But if you don't, you know the consequences!"
The black zombie snarled and nodded. "I know!"
"Sure of yourself… I wonder what you have found this time…" Borl's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the zombie, but then he laughed and snapped his fingers again.
Another green zombie, small and agile with long yellow hair, jumped from one of the balconies. She landed with a soft thud rolling twice before jumping to his feet.
"Orbs on the table and go with her," Borl said, turning his attention to the remaining groups.
"And you?" He said with a hopeful gleam in his yellow eyes as he stared at the last two groups. Sig didn't respond yet, and the others remained silent, all of them looking at the last group besides them.
"The middle."
A soft, smooth voice came from the red undead. It walked forward and dropped four orbs on the pile while the other just followed after.
Borl nodded and snapped his fingers without any comment. A green zombie, similar to the first three, exited from an alley. The red undead followed it, the others walking in a line after him.
"Creepy…" Tatjie muttered as she looked at the line of undead disappearing into an alley.
"Don't say anything," Sig muttered, hushing the others just before Borl turned towards them.
"Right, and now you? I've never seen you before… and believe me; I would know if I'd seen you!" Borl said with a grin, his bulbous eyes focussed on Sig for a moment as they ran up and down his body.
Derin shuddered when he saw the zombie lick its lips.
Dangerous!
"A quarter in the center for multiple days," Sig said, nodding at Tirela and ignoring the frown on Borl's face.
Tirela moved forward and carefully placed the wyrm orb beside the pile. Compared to the others, it was massive, easily as large as a dozen of the smaller orbs.
"Wyrm orb…" Borl hissed as he kneeled and snatched it. "Where did you get this?" He growled, staring at Sig.
"Killed a Wyrm," Sig replied unfazed.
A silence fell across the square as the undead sitting and standing on the balconies fell silent. Derin looked up and sucked in a breath. All eyes were on Sig, shining and greedy.
Borl got down from the table and walked towards Sig, stopping in front of him. "You did? By yourself?"
"Yes," Sig said with a finality showing that he was done talking. He raised his eyebrow. "The quarters?"
All around, the murmurs of the undead began again, but this time it was easy to hear what they spoke about. The words, Wyrm orb and center quarter, popped up repeatedly.
Borl grinned, his eyes gleaming.
"Sure. I'll bring you myself. Customers who can pay this much need special attention after all!"
He turned around and snapped his fingers again. Dozens of green zombies streamed from the alleys where they had been hiding, quickly grabbing the orbs and the table and carrying everything away. The two red skeletons stayed with Borl.
"Follow me!" Borl said, moving towards the far end of the square.
The party silently followed him as he led them to one of the numerous alleys that led away from the square. Derin took a quick across his shoulder. The undead were all staring after them, groups standing close together, their heads close together.
Why do I get the feeling we've just added to our troubles? Derin thought before stepping into the alley after the others.
