John gazed at the magnificent altar, his eyes were tired, with no awe in them.
Two wings made of a translucent material jutted out of the ground, reaching up to ten meters high, crossing each other in the middle to form a perfect X-shape. Where the wings intersected, he could see three artifacts arranged in a perfect triangular configuration.
The first artifact was a monocle that shimmered with an otherworldly light, emitting a faint humming sound. It was small, about the size of a grape, but seemed to be made of precious metal, perhaps gold or silver.
The second artifact was a pair of shoes that looked like they were made of glass. They were delicate, and even the slightest movement made them tinkle like a set of wind chimes. They were adorned with small, intricate designs, and John couldn't help but wonder how they could possibly be worn without shattering into a million pieces.
The third artifact was a palm-sized statue in the shape of a hawk. The statue seemed to be made of crystal, but it shimmered in the faint light of the chamber, as if alive.
The eye of insight, the boots of perseverance, and the guardian of the skies, the voice called them.
John stood before the altar and listened carefully to the voice emanating from the altar, explaining the properties of each artifact.
"The monocle could see the truth of things," the voice said. "The shoes could walk on any surface, and the statue could be used to call a hawk based on the situation for five minutes, once every trial."
Then the voice grew quiet, leaving John with a furrowed brow. He considered his options.
The monocle seemed useful, but he wasn't sure how he would use it in the trial. The shoes sounded convenient, but he had never had a problem with walking on any surface before. But the statue - that sounded intriguing. He imagined himself soaring through the air, riding atop a powerful hawk, surveying the landscape below.
But then he hesitated. What if the hawk wasn't useful in this trial? What if it was a trap, and the hawk would lead him astray, or worse, to his demise? He chewed his lip, lost in thought.
After a few moments, he made up his mind. He would take the statue. He couldn't shake the image of a majestic blizzard hawk flying in the storm, unfettered and undisturbed. Besides, the statue couldn’t just call a blizzard hawk, the voice said it could call a hawk based on his situation. He talked himself into taking the stature.
It was heavy, heavier than he expected, and cold to touch.
He pocked the statue, sighing at the condition of his clothes. They were proper rags at this point. If the altar gave him a new set of clothes, he would take them without considering his options. That’s how bad was their condition.
Anyways, having dealt with the altar, John Pointed the burning torch in the direction of the exit and started running. He didn’t want to spend another minute in the place If he could. The cloak fluttered behind him. Making his steps light, snuffing the sound of his footsteps. The makeshift torch flame danced and flickered, casting erratic shadows on the walls around him. The orange and yellow hues of the fire seemed to be in a constant state of flux as if the flames themselves are alive and moving. The smoke trails behind the torch, leaving a faint smell of burning wood in its wake.
John hurried away from the black chamber, a feeling of dread creeping over him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw the inky blackness that covered every inch of the chamber walls behind the altar. It was the mural, the hole exactly, that had grown larger, and devoured everything in its path. It had not left anything, the luminous moss that used to light up the chamber, the walls, the stories that were etched on the walls, even the walls and themselves. It wasn't a mere absence of light or darkness, but an absolute void that seemed to swallow even the faintest hint of illumination.
John didn’t think he could have made it to the altar if the floor had also been devoured.
He no longer had any doubt that hole was alive. It was alive, a sentient entity that hungered for everything in its path. John shuddered at the thought of what could happen if he was caught in its grasp. He quickened his pace, putting as much distance between himself and the chamber as possible.
As he made his way down the winding corridors, he could feel a sense of unease growing within him. He knew that he needed to be careful, that there were dangers lurking around every corner.
On the run, John took out the empty potion bottle and held it in his hand. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his wish for a strengthening potion, but then he remembered the state of his armor. With a sigh, he changed his mind. He needed a repair potion more than a strengthening potion right now.
He closed his eyes again and focused on his wish for a repair potion. As he did, a light green liquid appeared in the bottle. He uncorked it, poured it all over his armor, and rubbed it in the especially damaged areas. As soon as the potion made contact with the leather, it began to bubble and fizz. John could feel the potion working its magic as it filled the cracks and tears in the armor.
After a few seconds, the bubbling and fizzing stopped, and John looked down at his armor. The repair potion had done its job well. The tears and cracks were mended, and the armor looked almost as good as new. However, there were still gaps in the armor where it had been torn open. The repair potion was only a common grade potion, after all, and couldn't fill those gaps.
John sighed again and put the empty potion bottle away. He would have to find a way to strengthen his armor or get a new one altogether. For now, he would have to make do with it.
Before long John heard the sound of the altar slowly descending into the ground behind him. He knew he had to leave the chamber quickly before it was too late. It wasn’t long before the chamber instantly started to change. He was taken by surprise when the floor beneath his feet was beginning to change. The rocky surface was breaking down, turning muddy. He could feel his feet sinking into the soft ground.
“The boots,” John groaned.
The mud was thick and heavy, pulling at his shoes with each step he took. He tried to run, but his movements became slow and sluggish as the mud rose up to his knees. He looked back at the altar, but it had disappeared into the ground, leaving him stranded in the swamp.
John knew he had to find a way out before the mud consumed him. He searched for any solid ground to step on, but the mud seemed to be everywhere. He could feel the weight of his armor pulling him down, making it even harder to move.
With every step, John struggled against the mud, trying to find a way out. but things weren’t working.
His heart raced as the mud threatened to swallow him whole. He knew he needed to get out of this chamber, and fast. With a deep breath, he called forth his Grimoire and chanted the Earth spike spell. He would have liked to use the statue to summon a hawk to ride himself to safety, but the statue could only be used in trials of courage, which was a tragedy, to be honest.
He focused his energy and suddenly, the ground beneath him shook. A sharp spike of rock burst through the swampy ground, lifting him up into the air.
John used his weightless cloak to glide across the chamber and avoid the swampy ground. He summoned another earth spike and rode it like a surfboard, using the momentum to speed through the chamber.
At this point, John could even smell the swamp. He wondered if the mechanism had any effect on the hole, who had won between the swamp and the hole, but he didn’t look back. He knew he had to get out of this place before it was too late. He used the earth spike spell again and again, creating a path through the swamp.
Finally, he could see the exit covered in a shimmering light barrier. Summoning one last earth spike, he launched himself toward it. He burst through the barrier of the chamber and stumbled out into the open air, gasping for breath.
As he emerged from the chamber, he fell onto solid ground, panting heavily. He looked back at the entrance and saw the mud contending with the light barrier, trying to break through it. But the barrier refused to budge. It kept the two areas separated from eachother. However, it didn’t have much effect. Because it might have kept the
The swamp had taken a toll on him, but he had made it out alive. Yet he couldn’t take a breath of relief because he might have escaped the swamp developing in the chamber, but he hadn’t escaped it completely. He stood on solid ground, but everywhere he could see was a swamp. At least there were trees to keep him company. Although they were also dead and decaying… just like his mood.
