Chapter 7: The Abyss
1 0 0
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Mirus stepped solemnly on the other side of the portal and found his foot on the same ancient stone that composed Cynna’s altar. On first impression, the court mage struggled to determine if this realm truly lay underground. The atmosphere felt as cold and stale as the air in caves, but his eyes didn’t see any cavern ceiling. Instead, a thick darkness overwhelmed the sky which even the eternally burning braziers couldn’t penetrate. As far as he knew, it extended forever upwards beyond the grasp of any eye. Below the sky, his gaze fell on an indefinite horizon which bore the secrets on terra abyssa.

In the distance, terrible temples carved into indefinable heights stood. Adorned with sharp angles and spires which senselessly jutted out from impossible walls, the temples marked an abandonment of traditional architecture. They bore symbols whose meanings pressed into the endless stream of time and subconsciously denoted terror and hatred. Grotesque statues twisted from their ledges like gargoyles guarding the sanctity of immorality and imitated the form of purity tainted by corruption. They were monuments to the obscene and lurched with pride among the monstrous denizens who worshiped at their altars.

The daegon took many shapes, but none bore a mark of beauty or symmetry. All sentient and capable of carrying out devastation on a level few mortals could hope to achieve, their variety overwhelmed the eye. In his initial moments, the court mage cataloged cockroaches composed of bone and scales, spiders dressed in silk and flesh, and humanoid blobs of excess skin and too many limbs. They pushed along great machines, which only resembled the instruments of war, although in a realm where no vegetation grew, they were not built from wood but from some other, unknown material. Together they pushed trebuchets, siege towers, ballista, and other instruments designed to ravage armies. The elf reviled in their appearance, but silently thanked whatever gods could listen that none noticed his presence.

Before he could scurry to an obscure corner to check his maps and plan his journey, the portal ushered his apprentice who accidentally walked into her master. A pained expression of shock and terror flashed before Mirus’s eyes. Syma, meanwhile, gawked at the unnatural vista that spanned around them. The court mage tried to escort the young woman through the same portal, but it disappeared and left the pair in their grim underworld.

“What are you doing here?” Mirus hissed.

“Helping you. Cynna said you wouldn’t return without my aid,” Syma replied.

“And Cynna is a daegon-worshipper very capable of her own treachery. This realm is hostile to all therein and you are completely unprepared to engage with it.”

“Not on my own, but together-“

“No. Cynna’s spell only worked in one direction. It ushered us from terra firma to terra abyssa. The same spell cannot and will not take use the other way. Instead, she granted me a ring, which may take one of us back to our own realm, but not both. You have doomed one of us.”

“Except Cynna said she obtained it from a daegon. There will be more rings down here.”

“We don’t know if Cynna told us the truth. She very well may have condemned our souls to this forsaken realm to satisfy a score with a daegon. Even if she believes the ring will work, we don’t know if the daegon deceived her. For all we know, this piece of gold wrapped around my finger that presents a tiny light show, offers salvation to neither of us.”

“Then why did you go?”

“Because I was prepared to never come back. I achieved all in life I ever needed, but you still have so many years. You could have attended the university, become a court mage, and made something of your life. Instead, you’re throwing it away because I inherited this curse from my mother.”

“Why can’t you just be grateful that I’m helping?”

“You’re not helping. You’re hindering me and likely doomed yourself in the process,” the court mage paused, took a breath, and continued. “I need to consult my notes and we remain in the open. Follow me and stay close.”

Mirus briefly surveyed the landscape and spied an outcrop of untamed stone next to a wall. Signaling to his apprentice, he cast a spell to bend the light around them, making them invisible specters to any possible enemy. He quickly moved and Syma followed silently, but scathingly. Once tucked behind the boulders, he dug through his rucksack and procured a yellowed piece of parchment. Unfolding it revealed a rather overdramatic artist’s rendition of The Abyss, including fictional monsters to denote the presence of the daegon. Drawn from mostly myth and legend, the court mage questioned the authenticity of the map, but without any other method of navigation, he was forced to trust his only source.

“How do we tell which way is north and south?” the apprentice asked once she caught sight of the map.

“The arc of the black ‘sun’,” the elf replied, gesturing to the black orb which gently floated across the sky. “Just like our sun, it travels in a straight line. The cartographer arbitrarily assigned east and west to its path.”

The map was divided into nine roughly equally sections, each corresponding to the kingdom of an Abyssal Monarch. In a realm of monstrosities and deceit, they brought chaotic order. Infinite in their power, these monarchs imposed their will on lesser daegon who, once brought into their submission, fanatically carried out their will. They never took a constant form. On some days, they took the shape of men to mock their insignificant politics. On other days, they wore a coat of tentacles and fleshy growths to please the eyes of their subjects. In many ways, however, the form they took was unimportant, because they remained the manifested personification of their sphere of influence.

Their personalities consisted purely of their desires and the corruption it brought. Mirus’s mother sold her soul to a daegon under the command of Intekon, the Abyssal Monarch of Knowledge and Secrets. Consequently, legends say Intekon hoards information as a dragon hordes wealth. Its flawless memory meticulously catalogs every second to pass since the very birth of its creation, furtively reading every book, scroll, and slip of paper to pass through its existence. A popular Abyssal Monarch among mages who truly believe It could hold the secrets to ending every misery upon terra firma, they often forget the daegon jealously guards Its treasures and, if Its influence spreads far enough, will destroy any other copies of information, so that It remains the sole source of all information. If intekon ever graced their realm, It would reduce mortals to lobotomized drooling masses, so none may learn the secrets It alone collects.

Judging by the use of war machines, however, Mirus judged them within in kingdom of Kletixa, the Abyssal Monarch of War and Deception. Popular with generals in the same way Intekon remained popular with mages, many leaders struck deals with this daegon, which may yielded a victory on the battlefield, but inevitably resulted in their ruin. In truth, the court mage knew little of this monarch, but understood its domain well enough. Consulting the map revealed the kingdom of Intekon lay adjacent to the south. If any luck accompanied them, the pair could make the journey could be made swiftly, but without scale of the size of either kingdom or the realm in general, the court mage remained unsure of their course.

Quickly judging their orientation by the arc of the black sun, Mirus dictated their direction and began walking. Syma tried to talk to her master, but at every word, the court mage silenced his apprentice. His words were curt and tinged with frustration much to her dismay. She, however, understood his vexation and chose not to dispute his position, although a mild irritation bubbled within her because he refused to think of her actions as anything other than simple rebellion. Consequently, the pair traveled in silence.

Despite the abject horrors of The Abyss told in stories since their youth, the underworld shared a large expanse of nothingness which bore their eyes. As the temples and daegon became smaller with distance traveled, the realm offered little other an endless stretch of rock beneath the dark sky. Syma tried to entertain herself by cataloging the geologic variation she saw, but despite the hundreds of loose stones they passed, none carried any interesting features. Either uniformly black or gray and not much larger than her fist, the landscape did little to captivate her attention besides the occasional stalagmite, which created far more celebration in her mind than warranted. Likewise, the land remained almost supernaturally flat and treated the eye to unrelenting uniformity. After a half day of travel, however, her boredom was curtailed.

With bags beneath their eyes and dust accumulated at the bottom their robes, their legs felt uneasy. Consequently, they barely noticed the initial rumbles beneath the feet. Instead, they moved forward, unconcerned until the tremors amplified and nearly knocked them off their feet. Syma locked her arm onto Mirus who stood firmly on the ground. In front them, the stone ground shifted as splinters of rock erupted along invisible cracks revealing a hot, orange glow. A hand rose from the cracks. Boney and covered in a layer of vivid red skin, its talons felt the rock around it and anchored itself. Several more hands arose from the underground chamber, each the size of a small wagon.

“Move!” Mirus finally shouted and the pair began to run.

Guttural screams pierced the solemn silence. The hands hoisted the body of a vaguely humanoid daegon as tall as some of the miniature palaces that encircle the castle in Ravenspire. Ribs showed through its torso as its skin tightly wrapped around his body. Its four legs, gasping for any solid ground as it awoke from its slumber, stretched in unnatural angles which resembled those of spiders. Two pairs of leather wings unfolded from its spine and rose into the air, creating the image of an angel forever cast into shameless temptation. The eight eyes upon its head centered on the pair. Its mandibles watered with a thick saliva that gushed from its mouth as the antennas atop its head tuned into the smell of sweat and adrenaline. An ululation worthy of a war cry emanated from its skull and began its pursuit.

Without looking back, the court mage flicked his wrist and released an incantation. The spell created a wall of flames between the pair and the beast. The daegon paused briefly at the fire, appreciating the warmth. Small embers crackled as burning ashes fell upon its skin. Instead of leaving a burn, it revitalized the monster with confidence. It burst through the flames, refusing to feel a hint of pain and resumed its pursuit.

“At least it slowed it down for a moment,” the apprentice offered as they watched destruction of their only defense. Quickly casting a telekinetic spell, Syma lifted many of the rocks she so tediously cataloged and lobbed them in the direction of the daegon. Mirus took the opportunity to summon balls of flame along the attack, so that a mix of stone and fire pelted the beast. The power of their combined efforts could quell a small garrison of human soldiers, but the rocks simply bounced off its flesh and the flame refused to leave a blackened mark on its skin. Unopposed and unimpeded, it scurried towards the pair with surprising speed.

The pair attempted to flee, but the daegon quickly seized them. One of its many hands slashed downwards intending to tear the mortals into easily digestible shreds, but the court mage conjured a ward above their heads. A large, bright disk with ancient insignias caught the beast and chipped its talon, causing a brief, but irate cry of pain. Monopolizing on the moment of retreat, the apprentice sent an array of arrows made from hard light. The attack succeeded and sent the monster tumbling backwards.

From its mandibles, a column of fire spewed towards the pair. Unlike the natural flames Mirus conjures, the beast created an unnatural green flame whose sparks and smoke billowed in fierce outbursts. Before the blast of burning air reached them, however, the court mage motioned with his hands and took control of the fire. A flick of the wrist sent the blaze upwards illuminating the unknown sky with its obnoxious light before it fell with terrible force and bathed the daegon in its own attack.

Syma placed her hands on the ground and released another incantation. The ground beneath the beast began to quiver. As it recoiled from its attack, pillars of stone rose around it, encircling the beast with a makeshift prison. Between each pillar, Mirus summoned a ward of containing light. His apprentice recognized some of the sigils emblazed on the wards, representing the purifying effects of the gods above. The daegon paused for a moment and examined its new surroundings. It tested the wards with a slash of its talons to effect. A breath of flame likewise gave the same result. The pair gave a sigh of relief.

Their comfort, however, lasted only briefly as the two pairs of wings rose into the air and the beast took flight above its open prison cell. Like a gruesome dragon, it flew above their heads, spouting fire, and striking terror into their core. The pair ran, trying to find some sort of refuge, but the featureless land offered nothing. Instead, the court mage struggled to continue to summon wards and redirect conflagrations with every attack as they retreated deeper into terra abyssa.  Between the moments of defense, syma attempted an offense. She sent more stones and light arrows. She endeavored to suck the air beneath its wings to curtail its flight and to summon bolts of ice to pierce its pelt, but none proved effective against the terrorizing beast.

As the battle ensued, the most geologically fascinating feature interrupted their retreat. A massive chasm, far larger than the pit the apprentice encountered at the university, plunged into a darkness. With backs to the crater and the daegon advancing to their front, the pair found themselves pinned. As no other options presented themselves, Mirus told Syma to close her eyes. She obeyed and he himself refused his vision. He shouted a new incantation and ball of blinding light seared into each of the eight complex eyes of the beast. It screamed and changed its course as it tried to regain its sight.

The court mage quickly uttered two more spells. The air around them shifted and the light around them bent. While Mirus opened his eyes to survey the surroundings, his apprentice dutifully remained blind. He didn’t correct her but remained silent as the daegon wandered the abyssal plane. Its leather wings flew in patterns above them, but it ceased any attack. Noticing the sudden peace, Syma began to voice a question, but her master immediately silenced her. The single sound she made before he intervened, however, carried far enough the daegon who heard the syllable. It swooped down within twenty paces of their location.

The antennas on its head quivered. It slowly advanced to the pair, curiously investigating the area. Within ten paces, Mirus could discern the monstrous features of its face. Within five paces, he could smell the scent of rotting meat emanating from its jowls. The court mage readied a ball of flame within his palm as he stared into the eight eyes before him. Unlike his corneas, no whites nor pupils decorated the vision of the beast. Instead, a greenish blue lens atop of each eye appeared opaque to him. Its hands wandered within arm’s reach of him, but it never made contact. Several tense minutes passed as they felt the hot breath of the monster. With time, however, the monster retreated. It flew over them for several more minutes before it ceased its hunt all together and retreated.

“All that for a grunt,” the elf remarked.

“A grunt?” Syma exclaimed as she took his voice as a cue to open her eyes and speak.

“It was nothing more than a ground soldier for Kletixa, albeit heavily armored and armed. They typically stand on the frontlines of their wars, absorbing damage and repelling lesser opponents.”

“What did you do to get rid of it?”

“Despite our best attempts, we couldn’t harm it. Instead, I chose to temporarily blind it, cast an invisibility spell, and manipulated the air to disperse our scent. It couldn’t find us and apparently grew bored of searching.”

“Brilliant.”

“I know. Unfortunately, the pursuit radically altered our course. I’ll need to consult the map and try to figure out our location and plot our next course of action. This plane is infinite and trying to find the kingdom of Intekon could be near impossible.”

“Could it be that?” the apprentice pointed across the chasm to a floating castle surrounded by a sphere of bats who jealously guarded the structure.

“Yes,” the court mage uttered in awe. “That is where Intekon dwells. We must enter to rescue my mother’s soul.”

0