Travis Starnes
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The Threads of Destiny - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2024-02-21 14:15:01 +0000 UTCChapter 4: The Ruined Keep
The inside of the crumbling structure was both amazing and sad, its once fine craftsmanship and splendor now torn down by the relentless passage of time. It was impossible not to marvel at the grandeur of the space, even in its current ruined state. Shafts of light streamed in from gaps in the partially intact roof, illuminating swirling motes of dust that danced through the air.
Across from them, the far wall had completely collapsed into a mound of rubble, opening into what must have been a great hall of some kind in its heyday, based on the soaring broken columns that reached toward the high ceilings. Several of the columns had crumpled under the weight of the missing roof, leaving them leaning at precarious angles. The open ceiling had let in decades of wind, rain, and snow, accelerating the decay inside. Piles of stone and debris lay here and there where what might have once been an upper balcony or level had succumbed to gravity and collapsed down into the hall below. Vines crept up the remaining stone walls, which were cracked and eroded. Here or there, it seemed like some kind of painting might have been on the far wall, although it was more an impression of there having been art, than any semblance of it remaining.
Or maybe that was only in Osric’s mind, filling up the space with how he thought a keep should look.
Ahead of them, the wolf paused by the room’s only fully intact wall, which surprisingly held a doorway with stairs descending into darkness. The creature glanced back at Osric and Talia with its piercing yellow eyes before turning and descending slowly down the crumbling steps into the void.
Osric felt Talia shudder next to him.
“It wants us to go down there?” she asked nervously.
“I think so,” Osric replied, squinting futilely to see what lay ahead.
Pulling his sword, he led Talia toward the stairwell. The temperature dropped noticeably as they descended into shadow, and the air grew damp and heavy. The stairway walls and ceiling were intact, although gnarled roots had forced their way through cracks, and Osric had to duck under them in places as they descended further from the faded light behind.
“I wish we had a torch,” he said. The ambient light was fading fast now that they had left the brighter upper hall.
Tallia stopped partway down the stairs and pulled her hand free. For a moment, Osric thought she might have lost her nerve and wanted to go back up the stairs. What he didn’t expect was for her to pull her sleeves back and the tips of her index fingers together in front of her to form an upward-pointing triangle. He watched as she slowly separated her hands while still keeping the triangle shape with her fingers. Suddenly, a glowing orb of light materialized, small at first, lighting her palms as if she were holding fire. She slowly increased the spacing of her hands, keeping her fingers in the same position, causing the orb to grow as she increased the amount of space.
When it reached the size of a small melon, she stopped expanding the triangle and opened her fingers evenly, out away from the others, like how a flower might open, causing the glowing orb to gently drift up and away from her palms. It floated to about shoulder height and stopped, its eerie white light falling on everything around them. Not as bright as a torch, perhaps, but more solid and seeming to reach further out.
“How did you do that?” Osric whispered, again amazed at the powers she’d been hiding all this time.
Talia smiled softly and said, “Just a simple light spell, one of the first ones Elder Miriam taught me to weave.”
Osric shook his head in wonder. Magic never ceased to astonish him. Between the power stored in his mysterious ring and Talia’s own innate talents, he realized how little he knew of the world, working at Marter Ironhand’s forge.
“Well, at some point you’re going to have to explain how you know to do everything you do,” he said.
“I can try,” she said, but she looked doubtful.
Osric didn’t blame her. She and Elder Miriam were the smartest people he knew. If that is what it took to learn these kinds of powers, he was almost certainly not cut out for it.
They made their way down the remaining stairs, Talia’s glowing orb lighting their path. The basement was in as rough shape as the levels above, perhaps worse since it lacked any natural light. Rotted wooden beams littered the floor amidst piles of rubble and debris. Many of the walls had collapsed into mounds of stone blocks and shattered mortar.
Despite the decay, Osric could see shapes of stone around the room that might be signs that this was some kind of kitchen. He thought he could make out the outline of a large brick oven built into one wall, now crumbling and choked with tangled vines. A massive stone basin against another wall held a layer of fetid rainwater and leaves.
The wolf stood in the middle of the debris-strewn chamber, eyes fixed on the far wall where part of the mortar between large foundation stones had crumbled away. Tree roots thick as a man’s arm wriggled through the gaps.
“Is there something behind there?” Talia asked, staring at him.
“Maybe,” Osric said. “He seems pretty focused.”
Giving each other a look, they carefully made their way across the debris-strewn floor toward the wolf. The orb of light floated just ahead of them, casting an eerie light across the room, the shards of broken pottery, rusted metal fragments, and other rubble creating shadows that bent and moved as they passed.
They were halfway to the wolf when Talia suddenly cried out. Osric turned just in time to see the section of floor she was standing on start to collapse. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the crumbling stones an instant before they gave way completely. Talia stumbled into him with a gasp as several flagstones dropped into a dark pit that opened up where she had just been standing.
One arm wrapped firmly around Talia, Osric peered past her down at the hole. Jagged chunks of stone lined the edges where part of the floor had fallen away. He couldn’t see the bottom in the dim light—it descended into inky blackness.
“Thank you,” Talia said shakily, clutching at Osric as she too stared wide-eyed at the pit.
If he hadn’t pulled her clear in time... Osric shook the thought away.
On the opposite side of the hole, the wolf stared back at them, yellow eyes glowing in Talia’s summoned light. It turned and paced farther into the chamber, still fixed on the crumbling section of wall.
“I guess we need to find a way over there,” he said.
“Look, part of that beam is still intact. We might be able to lay it across and use it as a bridge,” Talia said, pointing at part of the wall to their left, where the ceiling above had partially collapsed.
Osric looked where she’d indicated and saw a long wooden roof beam. It looked half-rotted through, but as he made his way over to it, poking at it, the core seemed still intact. Sheathing his sword, he gripped the intact end, dragging it over and levering it across the gap. It only just reached, sagging slightly in the middle.
“I’ll go first, test it out,” he said.
Talia opened her mouth to object, but Osric was already edging out onto the precarious plank bridge. The aged wooden planks creaked and groaned under his weight, and he held his arms out for balance, concentrating on finding secure footing. With careful steps, he slowly made his way across, the bridge lurching and swaying beneath him.
When he reached the other side, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Turning back, he extended a hand towards Talia, beckoning for her to follow. She hesitated.
“If it held me, it’ll hold you,” he said.
“Maybe,” she said, eyeing the beam skeptically.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto it, taking small, shuffling steps. As she hit the middle, she began to sway, teetering back and forth slightly. Osric was just about to try stepping out with her, to help her across, when she recovered and managed one large step. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and pulled her the rest of the way over.
“That’s about the last scare I’m going to be able to stand,” she said.
“No problem. I’m sure the pitch black, ancient, crumbling basement is perfectly fine from here on out,” Osric said, giving her a grin that was much more calm and playful than he felt.
She gave him a look that told him she was aware he was putting on a front for her benefit, but she still gave a weak smile and said, “Shut it.”
Osric gave her shoulder a pat and carefully made his way toward the wolf, in case the ground gave way again. As he neared the animal, it stepped aside but kept its intense gaze fixed on the cracks in the mortar.
Osric placed his hands on the wall, trying to feel what had it so enthralled, and stopped suddenly. As his hand passed a section, he could feel a slight breeze on his palm. He moved it away and then back over the cracked and missing mortar, feeling the air again. Kneeling down, he examined the spot. It was a small crack, maybe a little larger than some of the others, but still too small to see through. But apparently not small enough to be airtight.
“There’s something here,” Osric said. “I can feel... air coming through the wall.”
Talia moved next to him, sliding her hand over the same spot as he stood and stepped aside. He could see the expression on her face change as she found the spot he had.
“There’s something on the other side,” she said.
“Air, at the very least,” he said, running his hand over the wall, feeling it out, trying to get a sense of what was back there.
She did the same on the opposite side, her hands moving over the rough and worn stone. She paused as her hand reached the edge of a large stone, not more than a hand span from the opposite wall. Peering over, he saw her nails had caught on an almost invisible seam cut into the rock. She looked at him, and then dug her fingernails in and pulled. With a faint grinding noise, the block shifted inward slightly on concealed hinges, revealing a dark cavity behind.
“A hidden door!” she exclaimed.
Placing his hands on the section of wall, Osric pushed with all his might. At first, it seemed like it might have been a fluke, or some small deformation, but then the wall shifted, slowly at first and then faster until it swung in on its protesting hinges, which emitted a low scraping sound.
As soon as it was opened, the wolf stepped through the door, leaving them little choice but to follow it, ducking their heads as they entered the low passageway. As Osric reached out to steady himself, his hand brushed one of the hinges, stopping him as he realized something felt off.
Leaning forward, he brushed away a thin layer of dirt to reveal dull metal underneath. Dull, but not rusted.
“These hinges can’t be more than a few years old,” he murmured.
“Do you mean someone’s been down here? And why would they build a hidden room off an ancient keep’s basement?”
“I don’t think they built this room,” Osric said, pointing at the passage on the other side of the doorway. “Look at all that. The stone here looks as old as the stone out there. Hell, even the door looks old... weathered. Only the hinges are new.”
“So someone repaired it? Why?”
“I have no idea,” Osric said. “Come on.”
Osric led the way, walking cautiously through the short, narrow stone passageway. The walls and floors were rough-hewn, with jagged edges that snagged at Talia’s cloak as she followed along behind him. The passage opened up into a chamber perhaps five feet across with small slits carved into the opposite wall, pointing back toward the passage they had just come through. Between the slits was a doorway, leading off into more darkness.
Osric stepped up to it, reaching high to grab something from the lintel above the doorway. He tugged hard and a shower of rust flakes drifted down. Turning, he held his hand out, palm up, to Talia. In his hand was a ragged chunk of discolored metal, one side was pitted and blackened as if burned long ago.
“See, this door hinge is as old as the castle. Look how brittle the metal is. I think maybe the door here was wood, but it rotted through a long time ago,” he said, looking around the room and at the slits in the wall. “I think this might have been a trap. Master Ironhand told me about his trip to the Baron’s castle, and he had something like this at the front entrance. This room would funnel people into the path of these slits, where I think archers or crossbowmen could fire through.”
He waved her through the doorway, which led into yet another room, this one nearly six meters across. Some of the stone had collapsed on one side of the room, blocking off most of the space, but Osric thought he noticed something and went to pull it free, coming away with a rather thin, twisted piece of metal sheeting.
“Armor... I think. If that room was for funneling intruders, then perhaps this was a guard room of some type. To keep anyone who discovered the room from getting further,” he said, gesturing at yet another open doorway opposite them.
“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “I’ve never seen nor read about anything like this before in the histories. This place feels... wrong somehow.”
“Yeah. Are you okay to keep going?”
She bit her lip nervously but nodded. Taking her free hand, they stepped through the door, which opened into a large chamber, the ceilings vaulting above them. Talia lifted her slender arms, sending the glowing orb higher into the air, illuminating a vast expanse that extended into the shadows.
Maybe four meters ahead stood what Osric thought might have been a large statue, from the wide stance of the legs. It was impossible to tell, however, the rest of the figure was missing. The area where its torso would have met the stone legs had a melted, almost liquefied appearance.
Talia’s curiosity must have overpowered her fear, because she approached the fragment of the statue, running her fingers along the rippled, melted stone. She peered upward, squinting to see if she could imagine what must have once stood here.
“I’ve never seen anything that could melt stone like this,” she said.
“Me either, and we’ve got the force though enough to slag iron and soften steel.”
“What is this place?” She asked yet again.
He still had no answer. Each discovery only brought new questions.
“Look,” he said, pointing to doorways on either side of the chamber. “Should we keep going straight, or see where these lead?”
She looked back and forth between the rooms. It seemed as if, now that her curiosity was engaged, her fear that had plagued her since our battle in the forest started to fade and she was back to the confident, headstrong Talia I remember from the village.
“I think we should see where these other rooms lead first before going deeper in,” she said decisively. “If this place was meant to guard something important, there could be clues in these side areas about what lies ahead.”
“Okay, which one first,” he asked.
Since they’d stepped into the area, the wolf had stopped being a help, looking back and forth between them as they talked, or otherwise sniffing around as they entered a new area. It was as curious as they were.
Talia considered a moment before pointing to the left passage. “That way.”
They walked cautiously, Osric going first, checking for any more surprises like the trap from before, as they entered through the dark stone doorway on the left. Beyond lay a strange rectangular room. Along one wall was a row of cramped stone cubicles, each sealed off from the rest by a grid of rusty metal bars thick with grime.
With a flick of her wrist, Talia sent her glowing orb gliding ahead, bathing the room in pale light. Squinting through the rusted partitions, Osric could make out a layer of dust and ancient bones littering the grimy floors of the cages. Bones that looked too small to be from a person.
“Some kind of kennel, maybe?” Osric mused aloud. “An odd place for it, buried away behind a secret door and guarded room. This old fortress must have held animals of some kind, but why keep them caged up and hidden down here?”
A low, rumbling growl drew Osric’s attention. He turned to see the wolf, stalking along the office cubicles, its nose twitching as it sniffed and snarled at one of the small enclosures. The wolf’s hackles raised as it backed out of the room.
“I don’t blame him,” Talia said. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Osric nodded slowly, glancing around. “It’s okay. I don’t think there’s anything in here. Let’s check out the other side.”
They crossed the center chamber again, passing the melted statue, and stepped through the doorway on the other side. Osric wouldn’t have thought it possible, but this room was even more unusual than the kennel they had found.
The room’s walls were lined with smashed workbenches, the metal frames showing where wood must have once been. Scattered tools lay strewn across the dusty stone floor, fallen through time as the wood rotted away into nothing.
“What are these?” Osric asked, bending down to examine one of the tools closely.
He’d spent the last almost ten years under Master Ironhand’s tutelage, learning the art of smithing. In that time, Osric had seen and helped craft tools of all kinds - farming implements, woodworking tools, sculpting equipment. But never before had he laid eyes on tools such as these.
“I’ve seen something akin to these in a book Elder Miriam once showed me,” Talia said. “It was a tome on enchantments, I believe. They would use tools like these to... pull, for lack of a better word, the magic into the item being enchanted. And this to connect and seal the magic into the item.”
Talia ran her fingers along the length of the rod. “I believe implements like these are only ever employed by the mages of the Ascended Conclave.”
They spent several minutes edging along the room, looking through the tools and benches, but anything that wasn’t metal had long ago turned to dust, leaving little behind for them to examine.
“There’s another door,” Osric said, pointing across from the entry at the door opposite.
They’d both seen it when they’d entered the room, of course, but Osric felt that they’d looked through this room enough. While interesting, this room held no more answers than the kennel had. To Talia, this had become a curiosity, something academic to explore, but Osric could still feel the ring around his neck, a weight, pushing him to find answers.
Osric stepped through the doorway, Talia and the wolf close behind. This room was larger than the others, with a few more sturdy workbenches and shelves carved into the rock walls along the side closest to the door. Strange glass vials, metal tools, and crystals were scattered across the tables’ surfaces.
The thing that was most interesting, however, was the large form in the center of the room, holding what might have been a large ring or something else, although it was impossible to tell. As with the statue, it was partially melted, leaving only the bottom third of the ring and the brackets holding it to the floor. Scattered around the ring on the dusty floor were hundreds of tiny shards of what looked like some kind of crystal, too opaque and marbled to be glass.
As they moved farther into the room, the hair on the back of Osric’s neck began to prickle. There was a charge in the air, a faint crackling energy he could almost taste on his tongue. Out of instinct, his hand went to the ring hanging beneath his tunic. As soon as he made contact with it, it began to glow again, except not the red light it had previously emitted. This time, the light pulsed a vibrant blue-white, growing and diminishing in intensity in a steady rhythm.
Talia looked at him, but Osric only shook his head. He didn’t know why the ring did anything that it did, but this was new and even more unexpected.
Without warning, the ring flared brilliantly. Osric cried out as a tremendous force slammed into his chest, hurtling him backward. He crashed painfully to the stone floor several meters away, the wind knocked from his lungs. Gasping, he looked up to see Talia rushing over, her face creased with concern.
“Osric! Are you all right?” She helped pull him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed unsteadily.
“I’m fine,” he wheezed, still struggling to regain his breath. “The ring... it was like running full force into a...”
Whatever Osric was going to say died in his throat as an immense tearing sound echoed around the stone room, drawing both of their attention toward the platform. The air pulsated with energy before them, distorting as if seen through intense heat. Then, before their astonished eyes, the fabric of reality itself seemed to tear apart right in the center of the platform, where the melted ring would have rested. A jagged rift split open in midair, roughly four meters across and three meters high. Its edges glowed and pulsed weirdly.
Osric and Talia stumbled back in shock. On the other side of the shimmering portal hovered an impossible sight - the same chamber they currently occupied, but superimposed, as if layered over their surroundings. Everything he could see in the room, on the other side of the platform was the same, but cleaner. Newer. The same workbenches lined the walls, free of dust and decay. In place of the broken shards and rubble littering their surfaces stood strange instruments and bubbling vials, vivid with unseen liquids and unknowable purposes. The floor beyond the portal was smooth and unmarred, without the rubble and debris.
Even more astounding than the pristine state of the space were its occupants. Half a dozen men dressed in flowing, deep black robes bustled about, engaged in various tasks.
“Can they see us?” Talia whispered, leaning in close to Osric.
Before he could reply, one of the robed men looked up directly at them. The man’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and he took an involuntary step in their direction. Just as it seemed the man in the portal was going to say something, there was a shout and some sort of commotion. It was coming from the room inside the tear, and in the direction where they stood now, near the door leading to the outer workshop.
“You are under arrest by order of the Council!” a commanding voice bellowed from out of sight. “Surrender yourselves now!”
The dark-robed men exchanged alarmed glances. One began weaving his hands in complex motions, sparks dancing between his fingers, coalescing into a pulsating sphere of liquid flame. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the roiling ball streaking toward the doorway where they stood.
A deafening explosion shook the chamber, causing some of the dust on their side of the room to leap into the air. The scene visible through the shimmering tear winked out abruptly, as if a thick curtain had been drawn across a window. An instant later, the rift itself collapsed with a sharp, resounding crack. Talia and Osric were left staring at a solid stone wall where moments before they had gazed into another world and time.
After several heartbeats of stunned silence, Osric found his voice. “What... what was that?”
Talia just stared at the melted ring, her mouth hanging open.
“Talia?” Osric prodded.
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head and blinking a few times. “It looked like this room but... newer. I think, maybe, we were looking back in time somehow. To the people who originally used this room.”
“How?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never even heard about something like this. Do you think, with the door hidden in the kitchen, the guard room, is it possible the people who owned this keep were doing something they shouldn’t have been?”
“The voice said they were under arrest, so maybe.”
“It would explain the melted ring and statue. Whatever spell that man was weaving, it looked like it could do that.”
“I think it could. I’ve never seen that spell used before, but I read about it in one of Elder Miriam’s books. It could easily melt stone if the mage was powerful enough.”
“Wow,” Osric said, stunned.
He’d heard tales of powerful mages, but that had just been stories. Having confirmation like this made it suddenly real. Dangerous.
“But, what kind of magic is illegal?” Talia asked, her mind clearly still on the mystery they’d stumbled into.
“You’re the expert. I’m more concerned about why the ring would lead us to a place that practised illegal magic.”
“I... I don’t know. I’m not sure we should keep going,” Talia said. “I know you want to find out what’s happening, but we had trouble with those men in the forest. People who can melt stone? That’s a kind of power neither of us is ready for.”
“But you just said that was a window through time, right? They aren’t here now. No one’s here. Look at the layer of dust. No one’s been here for a long time.”
“And you said the hinge on the door was new,” Talia countered.
“Yes. You’re right, but that’s... I don’t know, normal. People who can melt stone and open windows through time don’t need to hang out a hinge, do they?”
“Maybe. I’m just saying, this is dangerous.”
“We knew that when we came in here. The magic brought us here and it’s protected me the entire way. Either way, I have to know.”
“Okay. I’m not going to leave you. I just wanted to... I don’t know.”
“It’s okay. I’m scared too,” Osric said.
“Good,” Talia said, seeming to relax a bit. “I guess we keep going.”
Comments
Travis Starnes
I think it's only because reading these chapter by chapter. Once it's a complete book, it'll just flow into the next part of the story. (I outline for pacing as a book generally, and not a story). But yea, the main reason is because the keep section would be like 8k-9k words, which is too long for a single chapter.
Phil
I know you need to end the chapter since it is getting too long. It just strikes me that this is an odd place to do so. I thought you would have continued the chapter until they arrived at whatever was drawing them further into the keep.
