Chapter 213: Chapter 213 – Floor 34: Part 3

Chapter 213 – Floor 34: Part 3

Hilo entered the cave, which was tucked away at the desolate, wind-swept base of Ashen Peak. It was late, the night only lit by the bright moon in the sky. It gave everything a washed-out look and made the shadows stretch across the ground.

The entrance was a sharp opening surrounding by crumbling rock. It seemed menacing from outside in the darkness, but there were very places to shelter in the land of the Harboured. This wasn’t a spot for comforts or ease, everything was built out of necessity with the few materials they had at hand.

Inside the cave, the air was cool and dry, carrying the scent of stone and dust. The walls were rought and uneven, marked by the passage of the wind and the labour of hands that scraped and shaped the cave where nature hadn’t.

Flickering torches cast eerie shadows, illuminating the sparse furnishings – a few battered chairs and a makeshift table made from salvaged materials decades ago. Every item here told a story of survival, or time and hardship.

Hilo made his way deeper into the cave home, his feet making loud noises as he shuffled his way across the rough floor. Coming through the entrance and into the main area of the cave, he saw an armoured figure sitting perched on a rough-hewn rock that was converted into a chair.

The Enduring’s armour was unblemished by dust or dirt, and dark enough that Hilo could only make out his figure by his outline against the wall. Their new Sovereign’s posture was relaxed, the large, flat-tipped sword was placed casually across his lap.

The figure face was still obscured by the helmet, and only the eyes could bee seen inside. They glowed red in the darkness, staring at Hilo as he approached.

“My lord.” Hilo said as he slowly knelt on his knees. They ached as they touched the stone and he could immediately feel them tense. It would be hard for him to stand again after this effort, but he would never dream of showing disrespect to their Lord.

“Hilo. This cave is disgusting.” The Enduring stated, his eyes burning a hole into Hilo’s head as the latter lowered his face toward the ground.

“Apologies, my Lord. This is the best we have to offer.” Hilo replied, concern evident in his tone as he waited to be punished. He was old enough to recall how the Kelestrians treated the Harboured for their failures, and he had no doubt their lord would be the same.

To his surprise, the armoured figure let out a sigh and stood. He leaned the large sword against the wall of the cave and began to pace the room slowly. The Enduring would pause occasionally and look at the few items in the room with a critical eye.

“You all live like this?” The Enduring asked, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to rise up from the underworld itself. His footstep rang loudly through the cave.

“Yes, my lord.” Hilo stated, his voice quiet and filled with shame. The Enduring stopped at the plate of food and pitcher of water that represented an entire family's rations for the day. Some edible roots and a few mushrooms grown in one of their caves, along with some stripes of jerky from an animal a hunter had been lucky enough to kill after it wandered into their lands.

The Enduring picked up one of the pieces of meat and casually picked off some mould that had grown on it before tossing the jerky back onto the plate.

“How many Harboured live in these lands?” The Enduring asked as he turned away from the feast they had prepared and sat back down on his stone seat.

“Over ten thousand.” Hilo replied as the Enduring moved. He nodded his helmeted head before speaking again.

“Stand, and sit there.” The Enduring commanded, pointing at the decrepit chair across from him that was amongst the best the Harboured had to offer but was on the point of collapse. Gratefully, Hilo stood and stumbled as his muscles refused to obey.

Hilo was tired, his body on the point of collapse after walking up and down the mountain today and kneeling on the cold stone floor. He fell to the ground with a gasp. Hilo rubbed his leg and lower back in an attempt to loosen the muscles, all the while wincing at the expected blow from their Sovereign.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

To his surprise, The Enduring raised his hand and gestured toward Hilo.

“Heal” The Enduring spoke, and a gentle light descended from above to engulf Hilo. The aches and pains for the day’s labours were vanquished, his muscles relaxed, and he felt renewed.

Quickly standing, Hilo immediately bowed and began to thank their lord, who waved off his thanks and pointed to the chair once more. Hilo was about to refuse; how could he think of sitting with such a being?! But The Enduring was insistent.

Slowly, Hilo sank into the chair, which creaked alarmingly as his weight settled into it. Nodding, the Enduring continued.

“Tell me about your magic, Hilo. How is it different from the Kelestrians?” The Enduring asked. Hilo leaned forward with excitement, eager to tell his lord of his art.

“Our magic comes from the objects we work with. Through our words, our hands and the rituals we use, we can bring out the magic inside any object. Everything in the world has a ‘memory’ inside it, and the Harboured can bring that ‘memory’ into reality.” Hilo frowned, not sure if his explanation made sense to an outsider.

When he was a boy, his grandfather had taught him to be an Artisan, to work with objects to bring out the memories within to create magical items. The explanation hadn’t made sense to him at the time, not until he learned to work the rituals himself.

It seemed so obvious afterwards. Everything had a memory inside of it. A rock that recalled the ocean, a piece of obsidian that remembered the fiery eruption that birthed it.

“This ‘magic’ requires physical object to work with? Will anything do?” The Enduring inquired with curiosity, and Hilo snapped out of his memories of his youth in the blink of an eye. He nodded quickly.

“Everything has a memory inside it, but the strength and type is determined by the material. Higher quality, more rare materials have stronger memories.” Hilo explained before frowning.

“It’s why we are in such a decrepit state. The Kelestrians have blocked our access to materials. We can’t work our best magics without them.” Hilo muttered bitterly. He recalled how his grandfather would discuss the Harboured’s greatest creations.

Works of art and magic that rivalled anything the Kelestrians could accomplish.

The Enduring, noticing Hilo’s state of mind, shifted the subject slightly.

“What about the Kelestrian magic? It differs from your own?” The Enduring probed, and Hilo nodded.

“Their magic is based on the spiritual rather than the physical. We bring out the memory of an object, while the Kelestrians ‘impose’ their will on the world instead. It is why they enslaved us, to have us build their cities and artifacts until their magic evolved enough to render artifacts obsolete.” Hilo explained.

The Enduring was quiet for a moment before responding.

“The weakness of Harboured magic is the requirement for physical materials. What about the Kelestrians?” The Enduring mused softly, his gauntleted finger tapping his leg idly as he thought. Hilo didn’t have an answer to that question and chose to stay silent.

“No matter, we’ll figure that all out later. For now, I’ve been brought here to forge a kingdom for the Harboured. Tell me what you need, Hilo. How can I help the Harboured?” The Enduring asked, and Hilo’s breath caught in his throat as tears threatened to leak from his eyes.

He could scarcely believe that someone wanted to help them! It had been so long since someone cared. He drew in a shuddering breath before speaking.

“We need food, My Lord. Clean water. Our sick need medicine, and our children require clothing.” Hilo begged, clasping his hands together as he spoke.

Once again, The Enduring, Apostle of the god of Unyielding Declaration, was silent. After a few moments of thinking, their lord stood. Leaving his sword behind, he began to walk to the entrance of the cave.

“Follow me, Hilo.” His voice rumbled, and Hilo immediately stood up and rushed to his side.

The armoured figure stood outside under the night sky, lit by the moon hovering overhead. Oddly, he was raising his left arm and making swiping motions with his right hand as if he were flipping through the pages of a book.

The Enduring was muttering while he did so.

“I have a lot of things gathered from the previous Floors. I’ll need to spend some of the Aether I’ve been given, but…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his arm and made an odd ‘pulling’ motion with his right hand as if he were reaching for an object.

Hilo watched as objects appeared from nowhere. There were wooden crates marked ‘Provisions,’ baskets of bread, apples and other fruits. There were barrels of water, wine, ale and other drinks. There were containers of meats, spices, vegetables and all other sorts of food that Hilo had never seen or heard of before.

Stacks of clothing in various styles and sizes were gathered next to the food, tools and other equipment for construction. There were piles of wood planks, stone blocks, iron ingots, steel blades and axes. First dozens, then hundreds, followed by thousands of objects soon accumulated in front of the cave entrance.

There were medicines and medical supplies, gemstones and jewelry, glittering gold and shining silver. Treasures that made Hilo’s eyes widen and were enough to purchase a kingdom in a normal land. There were books and ledgers, rolls of carpet and rugs, vases and clay jugs.

When he finished, not only Hilo but thousands of other Harboured had come to stare at the wealth their Lord had given them. The Enduring gestured to everything around them as he turned back to Hilo.

“Use everything here to build your kingdom, Hilo. Once everyone is fed, watered and clothed, I want you to begin constructing a city. Your people will not be living in squalor anymore.”

Ten years later, Hilo completed the task given to them by their Sovereign. The Enduring looked out from his palace at the kingdom of the Harboured and heard the long-awaited sound that marked his success.

‘Ding.’