Book III: Chapter 24 – A Boy’s Training in the Heated Halls
8 0 0
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

ZEPHYRS brought a cool sensation to the group as they continued onward through the halls. At a certain point they wondered where they hailed from, for they were deep underground and the breeze came from all directions as if guided by an unknown force, but as like many things if it did not cause them trouble they would give it no more thought.

They passed through the hall that Tūmbṃār had ventured through yesterday, now much brighter than the night before and Tūmbṃār knew then that what he experienced was not a hallucination. But when they came out the other end, they stood before an open path, with a straight ramp sloping deep toward the bottom past the haze of the flowing magma. Walking down the path, they could feel the surface growing hot as if, at any moment, their feet would ignite.

Hvesykhiḥ said:

I advise that you stay upon my back while we are here. My scales are hard and cool and such heat does not bother me.

“I think now might be a good time for us to practice,” said Feyūnhaḥ. She kept a thin layer of water and earth below her feet. “Iḷēhaḥ, Tūmbṃār, I want you two to practice this. And for you Tūmbṃār I want you to hold air underneath as well.”

Tūmbṃār, irritated, said, “Why only me? I know I have to practice it, but shouldn’t Iḷēhaḥ do so as well?”

Iḷēhaḥ smiling fluttered with the air beneath her feet, dancing and running down the ramp. When she came to a stop, she shouted, “I need no more practice, for I have already mastered it!”

The boy stood with his mouth agape, and cried, “No fair!”

“Well, what did you think I was doing in that time I was away from you?” said Iḷēhaḥ proud. “I was not merely walking the entire way, at a certain point I had mastered the technique. It would seem, however, that you have been slacking in your practice.”

“Ah, so that’s how you returned to Siḍhrehḷūr so quickly,” said Feyūnhaḥ. “I guess in some ways you’re a quick learner.”

“Yes, but I could not have done it without a good teacher.”

Feyūnhaḥ sighed. “If only Tūmbṃār could pick up such things quicker.”

“Hey, I’ll learn it at some point!”

“You had better learn it quick then, for I no doubt know more perils we’ll have to face. And better it would be for all of us if you can at least grasp the basics of such techniques with haste.” She paused and thought for a bit. “Perhaps it might be better if you keep your focus on air instead as you hold on to the other elements. Of course they’ll rupture, but unlike the former, they should not send you flying. I see no merit in having you learn how to use each element one at a time; the many weeks we spent on the road hasn’t seemed to help in that regard. Try it and let’s see what happens.”

And so, once more, Tūmbṃār encased his feet in air with traces of the other elements floating around them while the others rested upon the snake’s back.


Every few minutes that passed, a small thud would be heard from under Tūmbṃār’s feet as he lightly hopped across the surface. The rupturing of the elements, save for air, irritated him to no end. While he was glad that at least this seemed to work, he hated the feeling of being propelled endlessly. His legs felt they were on fire, and not because of the heat. The strain put upon his muscles was something he would have to overcome.

They continued onward through the haze. The heat slowly waned. As they cleared the heatwaves, the haze dissipated, and it was not long before the path became level, with their sight unobstructed. Now they could see far into the distance, with magma flowing all around them. Within the molten rock rested many stone boats that surprisingly floated, bobbing up and down as if it was water. They were rather small, able to only fit two persons inside their bowl shaped hull. They ignored them as they prodded forward, but the surface became much too hot to bear, burning their soles right through their sandals. The lining of the boats at the side seemed all too tempting to them.

“These vessels were wrought by my forefathers during the Era of Foundation,” said Yūrmatṛtha. “After these halls crashed into the Earth, they were not at once wholly abandoned. Many tried their best to persist in their homes before ultimately having to relinquish. Unable to contain the magma and the heat, we ran deeper into the Earth until coming upon the massive cavern which became our new home. What say we use them? I can assure you they are much cooler than this surface.”

Nakthaḥm nodded in approval and said, “Are any in favor of riding the lovely vessels to the side? I would have thought I would accustom to the heat by now, but alas! it seems this body is much too frail to allow as such.”

“Aye, we should take the vessels,” said Feyūnhaḥ. “Perhaps we’ll fair better in them than on the surface or on top of Hvesykhiḥ.”

“You guys go,” said Tūmbṃār as he looked at his feet. “I still need to practice, and I feel like I’ll top over the boat if I try to hold the elements inside there.”

All but Tūmbṃār and Vrihkhaḥ boarded the boats. The wolf slept soundly upon the snake’s back, now unbothered by the heat.

“I hope you don’t mind me practicing atop your back, snake.”

I mind not at all; do as you will, child.

0