Sealed in Steel
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59. Rush to the Top
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 13:07:12 +0000 UTCThe catfolk portal was the yawning mouth of a gigantic cat statue. Thalman chanted words with bizarre pronunciations, almost snarling and hissing. It might be the language of the catfolk. Sure enough, the eyes of the cat statue blazed with a purple flame. Its mouth, a hole of shadows, became filled with a watery, purple haze, different from the swirling blue of human portals. In contrast, Giant portals had a golden film over their massive openings to accommodate their size.
“Does this still connect to the bottom of the library?” Elian tentatively asked. Thalman had mentioned diverting portals.
“It does. I have a body on the other side keeping guard. Come along now.” Thalman stepped into the purple haze and disappeared.
Elian had no choice but to follow him.
They emerged in a wide, circular area with a stone brick floor and a ceiling that stretched into darkness. Not complete darkness. There were hints of light here and there, indicating openings along the wide shaft. Those should be the different restricted lower areas of the library.
Elian looked behind him at another catfolk statue identical to the one they had just entered at the Forbidden Temple. The light of its eyes fizzled out and the portal was switched off. The statue was just another among the dozen or so around the bottom of this hole, innocent curiosities to those who didn’t know how to activate them.
With Thalman arriving at the temple, the stakes were raised to the highest. The walking nuke shouldn’t be allowed to explode.
“Thus begins our attack against the Hundred-Armed Magistrate,” said Thalman, “with Hazelheart and Khalamundi none the wiser. Those two, along with Jungdu, no longer visit the library. I doubt they know about this area. Though I say our assault, it’ll be me who’ll go to the chambers of the Magistrate. You, on the other hand, will help me by drawing Hazelheart’s attention elsewhere.”
“Wait, I’ll be the bait?” This was Thalman’s real intention for bringing him along. “How would I—?”
Before Elian could finish his question, footsteps echoed from a tunnel to their right. A second Thalman emerged, not frail and with no tattoos on his skin. The clone dragged a large chest with magic-dampening runes over the rough floor. Pretty comprehensive and powerful runes at that, evident from a glance. This was how Thalman was able to hide the stolen armor right in the temple. Elian could feel the runes’ effects from this far away; he wouldn’t be able to gather Aether with that chest nearby.
“I’ll answer your questions on the way up, brother Elian. Now is the time to prepare.”
“The missing suit of armor is inside, I’m guessing,” Elian said. Thalman had a really good hiding spot. No one would think that the armor was still in the temple.
Well, actually, the entire temple was probably the first place they searched. But Thalman was a few steps ahead of them because he had surveyed the temple and all its hidden passages, taking advantage of his position as a priest and using his many Aether constructs. Wouldn’t be a surprise if he had built his own hidden rooms here. Quite easy to do with Aether. After the guards didn’t find the stolen armor in the temple, they’d move on to other places and leave Thalman’s secret stash in peace.
“You have a knack with your guesses,” Thalman replied. “The full set lacking the helmet and one gauntlet.” He wobbled on his feet while walking to the clone with the chest. The constructs holding him up shivered in the presence of the magic-dampening runes.
Elian helped Thalman remain upright. As soon as he held him, he felt a biting cold against his side even though there was an Aether construct between them.
Elian would like to claim he was faking concern for Thalman so he wouldn’t get killed or that this was an act until he could get help. But part of him sympathized with Thalman. Very much so. Thalman had suffered a lot. The whole plan of nuking the hills was unjustifiable, even discounting the whole Elder Giant thing, but very understandable. Elian himself might do the same thing if he were in Thalman’s position.
Thalman touched the chest. The runes faded away, and Elian could breathe more easily again. He sensed the Aether spread in the air again. But the anxiety-inducing aura given off by Thalman remained.
As soon as the magic-dampening runes disappeared, a dozen more Thalman clones materialized. Impressive that Thalman was able to maintain one earlier despite the restriction of the runes. The clones went about dispelling the other protections of the chest and opening it. They carefully removed pieces of the set from inside and laid them on the ground.
“That color,” Elian said, nodding at the pale yellowish-white of the armor. It gave off a ghostly luster. “Bones. Undead dragon bones. Very strong against physical attacks, especially if they were ancient dragons when they died. I recall Tharguras wearing one.”
“You recall correctly,” said Thalman as the clones assembled the interlocking breastplate around his slight frame.
Thalman retained the Aether constructs covering his body for added protection and to fit the armor better. Elian supposed that the constructs also restricted whatever this was the Magistrate’s Curse was spewing—Thalman was the cause of the miasma spreading from the Forbidden Temple that disturbed the beasts around.
Thalman continued, “This is said to be made from the bones of Meghindr, the Primordial Dragon who fought during the War of the Gods. He was defeated, but so great was his anger that its residues fueled his revival. Meghindr was said to be the first undead from whence the phenomenon of undeath came. That is what they say. There are many stories of the Primordial Dragon and his defeat at the tail end of the War of the Gods.
“However, the tale of his supposed undeath is scant. Even rarer are accounts of a second defeat, for how else could these bones be obtained if not for his permanent end? I believe this is not the from Meghindr. A powerful dragon, no doubt, who lived for thousands of years before meeting its end. It then became a naturally-formed undead with even more years to marinate in negative energies such that its bones also became resistant to magic, not just physical damage. A legendary armor, that cannot be denied, but not Meghindr’s bones.”
“Did you choose that suit of armor because Tharguras was already using a similar one but weaker?”
“A mere coincidence.” Thalman raised his right leg and slid it into the bony boot. “This armor is considered by most of the priests and past Enlightened Penitents to be the weakest among all the suits in the hall of gold. Resultantly, it is almost never used, its security enchantments barely assessed over the decades and almost forgotten. The easiest to steal. Furthermore, the other sets require much from the wearer. I can’t provide a substantial amount of life force in my current state, and thus this is safest to wear.”
“Are you wearing this armor to fight Hazelheart?” Elian asked, wondering how he’d alert her.
“I won’t dare catch one of her strikes with my body even if protected by the bones of an ancient undead dragon. Granted, I’ll most likely survive. But I’d rather not take unnecessary risks in my sole chance for revenge. I’m wearing this for when I meet the Magistrate.”
Meeting the Magistrate? Another question popped into Elian’s head—if Thalman died, what would happen to his Tribulations?
Elian didn’t dare ask and risk tipping off Thalman of his intention to stop him. Thalman seemed to think he’d be able to wipe out Temple Hill with his thousands of Tribulations. Thalman wouldn’t survive the first few strikes; he had stopped his journey on the Penitent Path when he decided to attack the Magistrate a decade ago. So, he must think they’d continue descending after his death.
Then Elian remembered the catfolk using those with the Magistrate’s Curse to bring down enemy fortifications. Although it wasn’t explicitly mentioned in the library books he read, he pieced together that the catfolk forced people to be Cursed by the Magistrate, helped them progress along the Tribulations, and kept them indoors until they were needed. In wartime, they’d catapult the Cursed prisoners onto enemy walls and let the Tribulations hammer down enemy positions. Wouldn’t work if the prisoner died after a Tribulation or two. The scholars studying ancient ruins mentioned evidence of several Tribulations striking the same spot.
So why would Thalman need to wear this armor? The hills would be flattened even after he’d die. He mentioned he didn’t want unnecessary risks, but the mere presence of this armor would draw Hazelheart’s attention—it was a powerful artifact. In fact, Thalman’s clones were busy disguising it with suppression runes.
As if reading Elian’s mind, Thalman explained, “I wish the Magistrate has a face so I’d witness its expression when it realizes that I am the great calamity. That it will be its end.”
Thalman wants to survive long enough to see the Magistrate destroyed, Elian surmised. The stolen armor wasn’t just for framing Tharguras and eventually riling up his followers.
Thalman conjured a platform and stepped on it along with his clones, gesturing for Elian to follow them. The platform rose. Thalman’s clones were busy placing the finishing touches on his armor.
One of the clones approached Elian. “This is for you,” he said, offering Elian the remaining gauntlet of the armor set. “With this, you’ll distract Hazelheart.”
“I’ll just run the opposite way with this?”
“As fast as you can.”
“Anything I need to know about her?” Elian asked as he accepted the gauntlet. It felt like cool steel in his hands though its texture was that of bone. It pulsed with energies that ran up his arms and made his body tingle. “I mean, I don’t want to die.”
“She won’t kill you, don’t worry,” replied the clone. “You’ll be alive to witness yourself freed from the Magistrate’s Curse. As for her abilities, she is quite different from the rest of the Penitent, employing her background as an Auric Blademaster for defense.”
“What do you mean? She’s attacking the Tribulation?” That made Elian pause his worries for a bit. Hazelheart was a special kind of crazy to think of that strategy.
“As it descends, yes. Unconventional, but it has quite worked well for her, and she has reached far on the Penitent Path. She’s a very capable fighter, even if Penitents are not known for their fighting capabilities. This is what will happen: she’ll sense the gauntlet in your hands and hurry over to investigate. Once she sees that it’s the stolen item and that you are holding it, practically a nobody in her eyes—”
“Ouch. But, true.”
“—she’ll immediately realize you’re a distraction. What other reason would there be for a new Penitent to run around the temple with the missing item? She wouldn’t attack you because she’d be rushing back to the main temple. By then, you’d have bought me precious several seconds.”
“You could use your clones to bring this gauntlet even further away,” Elian said. “I’m not the fastest of runners.”
The clone shook his head. “Hazelheart would sense my constructs and remain in her post, expecting me to come. You are key in removing the obstacle to my path. Do your best to delay her with some talk. I should be near the chambers of the Magistrate when Hazelheart would return, such that she wouldn’t dare to attack me and destroy the building.”
Because she’d make an opening to the sky. Thalman really thought this out. The only part of Thalman’s plans that Elian didn’t know was how would Thalman actually go about triggering his Tribulations.
Elian looked up the shaft as the platform they were riding on ascended. They were so far down it was as if they were in the tower. In truth, the ceiling high above them was the floor of the temple. Compare that to the tower housing the Hundred-Armed Magistrate with its glass dome for a roof…
Oh, shit!
Elian’s first meeting with the Magistrate returned to him. He was certain that sunlight bathed the giant hand. Thalman simply needed to walk into the Magistrate’s chambers and it would be all over. Who the hell built that stupid glass dome above the Magistrate? He wouldn’t be surprised if Thalman had a hand in its design. After all, Thalman did destroy part of the temple; maybe he had a part in rebuilding it. None of the priests would consider Thalman going for this suicide-nuke plan.
The Three Gates of Acuity opened. Only two people exited the library—Elian and the original Thalman. There were no more clones.
“Be brave, brother Elian,” Thalman said. “Soon, we’d be free from the Magistrate’s Curse. Till we meet again.” And he turned around and ran toward the central part of the temple, his constructs doing the movement for him.
Bizarre parting words, Elian thought, as he went the opposite way and looked for the stairs. He carried with him the gauntlet from the golden hall. If he left it behind, Thalman would know he had betrayed him. Best Thalman continued with his plan while Elian tried to counter it with his.
Elian skipped several steps as he went up the stairs.
Still too slow.
He made Aether constructs above him and stepped on those instead. Too bad he couldn’t yet make a platform like Thalman did and ride it all the way to the top. Elian even used Viney to grab onto the railings and pull him up as he jumped.
Floor by floor went by. There was no one around. Not even Hazelheart. Half of him hoped she remained near the Magistrate. But another part of him wanted her to follow Thalman’s plan and check up on him. Thalman would have contingencies prepared through years of planning. Elian wanted Thalman to remain predictable.
“No more stairs?” Elian looked left and right. Possibly there were stairs somewhere on this floor that continued to go up, but he couldn’t waste time looking for it.
He went to the windows, ordered Viney to smash the glass, and climbed out. Using Aether blocks to step on and harden Viney into hooks, he ascended the white stone wall. But before he could climb even a few feet, a familiar oppressive sensation enveloped him. It was the same thing that he felt on his first day visiting the temple—the aura of Priestess Hazelheart. But this was a hundred times much worse. His fingers nearly let go of the climbing hooks Viney made, and he almost passed out. Even Viney coiled back into his arm.
Gathering his will, Elian looked over his shoulder.
Hazelheart balanced herself on a floating sword, white robes billowing in the night wind, severe eyes looking at him. She had a couple dozen more swords flying around her.
She raised her hand. All her swords, except the one she stood on, pointed at Elian.
“Thalman is using me to distract you!” Elian quickly shouted. “He’s going to the Magistrate and use his Tribulation to destroy everything! I’m going to the glass dome to cover it if you’re too late to—huh?”
The priestess had already zoomed away.
Comments
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter!
Gerardo Jr. Diaz
Elian kinda did by focusing on Aether Magic, lol.
Ben Waschuk
Never skip leg day
