General Sarengerel stood at the entrance hall of the Castle in the Sky, as it was called by the Ash Men of the Soot. A few days ago he had arrived at the Soot capital New Berenhall with a dozen of his closest Field Riders. Sarengerel understood what he was asking for when he told his Riders of his intentions to leave Neredun the day after his wedding. He had just become the new crown prince, after all. After the pomp of the tourney and wedding, his leaving created disarray in the ranks. As General, he would have been stripped of his title and all his rights, and likely put in treason for abandoning his duties. However, as the prince, he was exempt from such hostilities from his father-in-law, regardless of the threats.
His men would have been traitors as well for following the General, but to follow royalty? That would be an obligation. They knew Sarengerel was playing with the fire that was King Burulgi’s temper, but they played with him. Sarengerel had led them through the smoke and ruin of war, to the edge to receive a brief view of the afterlife, and back to a safe return home.
They had never been in these mountains before. There were mountains in Neredun, such as Lord Lanin’s castle at the top of the mountain overlooking the road to Kienne. But this was different. Even the air was thin here, and to Sarengerel, the city had a smell to it, just as Lanfrydhall did in Kienne. His arms were folded as he looked out at the morning fog flow between the Iron Mountains. He had spent the night before preparing himself and his men for the journey. Since dawn he had been waiting alone in the hall.
Prince Agalric arrived in a spelunking outfit. He dressed completely in black except for bright yellow gloves and a pack tied to his back.
"The i’preda is running behind," Sarengerel said.
"The who?" Agalric asked. "You mean Menquist? Are you sure the old man should be joining us in the tunnels?"
"The i’preda has been in more crevices of the world than you know," Sarengerel said. Sarengerel smiled and shook his head, then covered his face with both hands and fought the laugh until it broke through. His laughter filled the empty room.
Agalric eyed the Neredunian sideways. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Sarengerel placed his hand on Agalric's shoulder. He looked at the prince's eyes and laughed again.
"I'm glad the morning mood is starting well," Menquist said as he entered the hall. "Sorry to have missed the joke."
Sarengerel bowed and whispered into Menquist's ear. Menquist narrowed his eyes and gave Sarengerel a disapproving look, but then shook his head and laughed along.
"Seems like I've missed the joke as well," Agalric said. “Shall we?”
They exited the castle stronghold of New Berenhall and walked onto a platform outside of the entrance hall, high in the mountains as they waited for the gondola. When the gondola arrived, they climbed onboard and closed the gate. Agalric twirled his fingers in the air, signaling the gondola operator to begin their descent.
“This is why New Berenhall will never fall,” Agalric said. “There’s only one way into the city, by way of this gondola.”
“And only two ways out,” Sarengerel said. “By way of the gondola, or being thrown off the mountain.”
At the base of the mountain the dozen Neredunian Field Riders waited. The riders all dressed in typical Neredunian colors of brown or beige, some with vests to show off the war tattooes, other with simple cotton coats. Trenchers waited for them beside a pot of stew on a table to break their fast.
A spotted mare was brought to Agalric. "The mines are half a day away."
After they had broken their fast, they all rode west from New Berenhall toward the Iron Mountains until they reached the mines. Chief Esben was waiting for them. There were five men with Esben that were equipped with packs of supplies and a good length of rope wrapped around their bodies and limbs. They handed out rations to the Neredunians.
"I chose the best among the miners without families, as you instructed," Esben told Agalric.
“It is here that we leave our horses,” Sarengerel said. “Hananisus, see to this task.”
His lieutenant Hananisus took Sarengerel’s horse and instructed the other Field Riders to ready their own horses to be left behind. The men comforted their steeds, who were uneasy with being separated with their riders. The Ash Men had never seen humans speak in such a way to horses, as if they were capable of genuine bond. When the Neredunians were done consoling the horses, they handed the reins to the Ash Men to lead them away.
Agalric patted Esben on the arm. “Take us into the earth.”
There were multiple entrances to the mines, carved steps that descended deeper and deeper to the ground.
“Which one do you want to try?” Esben asked.
Menquist chose an old mine that was discovered from an old brick passageway that had one wall collapsed and exposed an existing tunnel.
"If you've never been in the mines, you'll find that the deeper you venture, the thinner the air, and soon that plays tricks on your mind,” Agalric warned. "Save your energy and breathe through whatever fear your mind tries to put you through. Tell yourself a story, sing yourself a song, anything to get your nerves to calm down. I know you Neredunians are an outdoors people, and prefer sun on your backs. Spending the night in an underground cave will surely test your sanity."
“And for you, prince, how do you prevent it from breaking your mind?” Sarengerel asked.
“Oh first I just imagine dying here,” he smiled. “If that's the worst that could happen then I know I'll be alright. After that it lets me be happy.”
They entered the old collapsed tunnel with Esben's lead. Wooden stairs had been constructed to lead down to the mines. Esben held a torch and took the party deep into the tunnel. The tunnel was high and they walked comfortably through. It was not long until they came to a four-way split.
Menquist examined the four entrances. "The far right one," he said.
"That one is the most damp," Esben said.
"Then that is the one," Menquist responded.
They continued through the tunnel and they could feel themselves going deeper down and the walls became slick. They came to a cavern with water as deep as their thighs and a staircases to half a dozen entrances to other tunnels.
"Did you create any of these pathways?" Agalric asked.
"Not our diggers," Esben said. "There are a lot of tunnels before we got here, and we did not want to dig through a wall and jeapordize the structure. These tunnels are very old, probably mined hundreds of years ago. I don't think we've even gone through all these tunnels."
"The tunnels I care about are large enough for beasts, like a horse or an ox," Menquist said.
“Such beasts have no business being down here,” Esben said.
"There, the large entrance above,” Menquist pointed as he started walking. “There is a spiraling path upwards.”
They followed Menquist's lead and walked through what appeared to be a straight, uniform tunnel. They arrived at another split, and Menquist always seemed to know which path to take. From time to time they would find skeletal remains. After several hours of following Menquist, the party made camp.
"Everything we've seen so far have looks exactly like what we expected,” Agalric said to Menquist. “When do we find your catacombs? And how do you know about them when we don’t?”
Menquist picked through the rations Esben had provided and offered the salted beef to Sarengerel.
“I don’t eat meat,” he said to Agalric. Someone passed him dried fruit but he waved it off. “History, when unrepeated for long goes into myth. These myths sometimes turn to legends. Unfortunately rumors, not history, can also lead to legends. Paying attention to these legends may lead us to what was once history.”
Menquist lit a lantern and set it atop a broken column of stone. "Legend has it that a very long time ago, before the four kingdoms were founded, before the empire of Arkromenyon was even a settlement in the west, a great and advanced people ruled these lands."
"The Menathinions," Agalric said.
"Yes, Menathinion. A city of angels built in the north, near where the Smote is now before that land became a wasteland of sand dunes. It was the deepest green forest where the first man was born. It was such a beautiful place that Erehar, second eldest of the angels, raised Menathinion to oversee the life that was forming on earth. While the other angels were content in letting the world take its natural course, Erehar had fallen in love with the creature of man and had different ambitions. Erehar then took human form for he wanted dominion over men. He took the name Palathicus and became the first High King of the world.
"To the south, the legend says that great demons dwelled beneath the earth, led by their king Lagifor. The demons had fought with the angels over millennia, but the angels always kept the demon lords at bay. When the eldest of the angels, Irioi the Wise, cautioned Palathicus about his ambition, Palathicus lashed out with the fury of being second-born. Palathicus plotted to overthrow all his brothers and sisters and entered an evil covenant with the demons. Angels have the power to create, while demons only have to the power to destroy. Palathicus drank deeply from all living things in the north and as a result, all that was left was an endless desert. This is how the Smote was created.
“With the life force of the green world within him, he gave the demon king Lagifor the power of creation. The demon king created an army and gave his soldiers great leathery wings to take to the sky and engage the angels. The demon king tunneled through the caverns where his winged army marched through and flew out of a gate into the world and brought onslaught to men. If the legends are to be true, these caverns are beneath these mountains, for the mountains of Iron and Ash is where the demon king ruled his realm.”
Agalric laughed. “Right under our beds! You're telling me if we find these tunnels, they are proof that winged demons lived here?”
"I said, my dear prince, that rumors can also lead to legends," Menquist explained. "Men will never know the difference between truth and myth. I know the tunnels do exist, because that is how men of ancient times travelled between these lands to what is now Aredun. No one knows how many stories are true, and how many may have been fabricated along the way into legend."
“Well let’s make sure that as we sleep tonight, someone stand guard for these angels and demons,” Agalric chuckled. He turned to see who else found the story funny. Some of the Neredunians were busy praying. “Surely they don’t believe it.”
“They sing a song for the Field God,” Sarengerel said. “To reinforce their belief. The Ash Men believe in no gods, isn’t that right? You see, Agalric, prince, when it comes to belief, the deeper you venture, the mind starts playing tricks on you. So you tell yourself a story or you sing yourself a song to calm your nerves. Anything to prevent yourself from going insane from questioning your beliefs.”
Agalric raised an eyebrow. “You’ve scored a point against me there.”
“Get some sleep, prince. Don’t worry. Though at times angels may walk among us, there are no more demons in this world. I will take the first watch.”
