Chapter 16: A Walk In The Dark

Chapter 16

“So, this is the tomb of Orikelos.” Malachai’s deep voice echoed down the smooth tunnels beneath the Capital.

“Pardon me?” Fia raised an eyebrow, searching the darkness. The golden light from her orb barely touched his face as the shadows that danced along it revealed a man as sinister as the one she had first imagined him to be.

“Oh, Fia.” He chuckled. “You are a curious girl indeed. In one moment, you can seem to possess a wisdom far beyond your years, and the next, you are as naïve as a newborn babe. Are you truly a beacon sent to guide me? Or merely a trick of the light?”

“There’s no need for that,” she grumbled, “You could just tell me what you mean.”

The tunnels were as dark as ever but they were not quiet. Up above, the pounding thunder of thousands of marching feet, rattling siege towers, and lumbering beasts reverberated through the dirt, shaking the halls and sending showers of rock and dust raining down on them.

“Orent,” he paused, and in the dark Fia heard him draw a deep breath, “is built upon the ruins of a great empire.”

“Do we really have time for all these theatrics?” She sighed, was this the same man from all of the stories? Spoken of, only in whispers. He seemed much too dramatic.

“We have only as much time as it takes for you to lead me through this labyrinth. With Freya…gone, I could have never found my way, down here. Although,” he ran his hands along the polished stone, “I’ll admit I was not expecting to find so many… signs.”

Sophie’s scrawled carvings littered the walls. Strange scratches that lead in circles, mostly illegible to anyone unfamiliar with her unique form of shorthand. It remained a mystery even to Fia save for the few paths they had walked together.

“Are they…yours?”

“No.” She turned away smiling. “They’ve always been here. At least as long as I’ve known.” It would have meant everything to Sophie for people to believe her chiseled messages were ancient hieroglyphs from a lost civilization. “I wondered about them but… they must be from Orikelos…l like you said.” She nodded her head sagely.

“They must indeed,” he mused.

“Malachai?” She asked.

“Yes, girl?”

“You seem rather calm, considering…”

“Considering what lies ahead?”

“Yes.”

“In truth, I fear that if I allow myself to dwell on the gravity of our situation for too long, I may be overwhelmed by the weight of such a burden. Please, allow me this reprieve as I gather myself in the darkness.”

Fia nodded slowly. He was not at all how she had come to expect.

“Then tell me more about Orikelos. Perhaps we can solve the mystery of these runes while we’re down here.”

They walked through the dark, the little light bobbing just ahead of them, leading them on, illuminating more and more of Sophie’s work.

“Not much is known of the world before, though its ruins can be found in more places than just Orent. There are some who dedicate their entire lives to uncovering and exploring such places. It is from these blessed saints that we have gleaned the little that we do know.”

“Are you one such saint?”

He laughed, a deep booming noise that rose from his belly and shook the walls around them. “Oh, what you must think of me, girl. That I would stand before you singing the praises of an elite organization, of which I am secretly a part? Alas,” he pulled at his sleeves, wiping the tears from his eyes, “no, there was a time when I hoped it might be my path, but no…”

Above, the ceiling shook, sending more sediment crashing down. The sounds on the surface were growing louder and more frequent.

“Well, what do we know?”

“They were quite advanced as a civilization, far more advanced than we are, great craftsmen and builders. These tunnels alone, are proof of their genius, such wonders indeed. But more importantly, and, unfortunately ironically, they were the creators of your compass.”

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“That doesn’t sound ironic.”

“Well I haven’t finished yet,” he huffed. “Ironic because the creation of these charms allowed something foul to creep into our world. Something that displaced the old order, destroying their empire, and installing a new dynasty in its stead.”

“The line of Weil?”

Malachai snorted. “That fool king and his family? Don’t be silly. We both know that the veiled throne draws its strength from a much darker power.”

“I was only—”

“—Do not play with me, girl!” His voice grew, temper flaring. “You have the compass; you are already part of this!” He waved his hands about wildly, his shadow casting monstrous shapes upon the walls. “Here I am sharing the secrets of our world. Truths hard fought for, the least you could do is not act the fool.”

She could hardly see him through the dim light but his shadow raged. A dark cloud, ever-expanding until it grew to swallow him in its gloom.

“You’re right,” she replied softly. “I’m sorry. Since I learned the truth, I have had no one to speak with of such things. It has become my nature to hide in the comfort of this lie.”

The shadow fell still. Malachai’s deep breath was all that she could hear. He was waiting.

“You speak of the God King?”

From the darkness, a slow exhale, a sigh of relief.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Thalazan. The charm opened a door, and through that door the God King crept, to claim this world for his own.” He fell silent again, and for a time all that could be heard were the distant sounds of war.

“Was it really so bad?” She finally asked. This was the question, the thought, that had burned some time deep inside her. “One king or another, what does it matter?”

Silence.

“The people of Orent do not fear a king. They do not flee their homes, abandoning their lives before a king’s host. They will not burn tonight by a king’s commands. They fear you Malachai, and they will die because of you. Tell me, please, why must we sacrifice so much to free ourselves?”

“We were not meant to be slaves, girl.”

“There have always been kings.”

“Kings that lived among their people. Kings that lived and died in the lands they ruled. Whose decisions were judged by the people who chose to follow them.”

“And what choices has the God King made, to turn you so against him?”

Silence. They had stopped walking and Malachai stood in the darkness, motionless.

“I do not know.” His voice broke, choking on the words.

“Then how can you—”

“—What I know is that we are trapped! Cogs in a machine we do not understand, are part of a painting whose image we cannot fully see. We live on the whim of a god we know nothing of, a god whose whims could change in an instant.” She heard his fist hit the cold stone and the thud echoed through the halls.

“Then we should wait! Until such a time as he proves himself to be our enemy.”

“By then it would be too late! Look at where you are! A city far greater than any in our world! Buried in the blink of an eye at the coming of our King. Would they have been right to wait?” His yells grew louder, ranting and raving as fury took him. “No! We must strike now!” He pushed past her. “There is no more time. Come! We will speak of this no more.”

They walked on. Climbing higher and higher towards Orent. Soon they were just a few hundred meters from the shop.

And there it was, Sophie’s first message. A fireplace scratched into the floor. If you stood in its center and looked straight up you could just see the hatch leading into their home.

“We’re here.”

“About time,” Malachai replied sourly. His mood had not improved since they last spoke. “Your home is just outside the second wall, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We won’t have far to go.”

Fia lifted her staff, tapping it on a rune hidden between stalactites. Above the hatch glowed, and a wooden rope fell to them.

“What’s this?” He questioned as they climbed into the safe room.

“Something we built, preparing for you…”

“We?”

“Never mind.” She walked forward and the runes on her sister's door glowed in recognition. Another mark of Sophie’s genius. Only she and Fia could open it. All others would be repelled. Even Timor had failed in his attempt.

She pulled it open, but as she did, something slammed into it from the outside sending her tumbling to the floor as a shadow burst into the room.

It was a man, covered in ashes and stinking of death.

“Thank the gods!” He rambled, eyes darting around the room. “It's chaos out there! I only just managed to escape…the king… the king has abandoned us!”

“What are you doing?” She cried. “You can’t be here!”

“Like hell, I can’t! He backed away from her, away from the door, deeper into the room. “There’s nothing but death out there! I’ll take my chances against you two before I step outside this room!”

Fia stood, facing him. “We don’t want to fight you. But we have to leave.”

“Fine by me,” the man shouted, “If you two want to go to your deaths, be my guest. That’s no reason for me to have to leave…” He faltered, before shouting, “I won’t take anything, I promise!”

“Fia?”

“Just a moment!” She couldn’t leave him here. It was the one thing Timor had demanded. But could she really send him out to die?

“Look—what’s your name?”

“A-Adam,” he stammered, stumbling back as she walked towards him.

“Fia?”

“I said just a moment!” Adam had moved his way to Malachai, back at the far end of the room. “Adam, I’m sorry, we really don’t want to harm you, but we cannot let you stay here. So, please just come with us.” She held out her hand, eyes begging.

“I can’t” He shrank away from her wailing, “I can’t go through it again!”

“Adam, please!” She closed her eyes, mind racing. She could think of something. She just needed a moment.

“Fia!”

“What?” She snapped, eyes flying open. Malachai stood with his hands gripping Adam’s shoulders. The man whimpered mumbling under his breath.

“I can’t… Please… Don’t make me…”

“Malachai, what are you doing?”

“He cannot stay here?”

“No.”

“Why?” He asked eyes wide with wonder.

“There isn’t time to explain!” She cried.

“I understand.” Malachai’s eyes narrowed, and in one swift movement, he swung Adam through the hatch, throwing him down into the darkness below.

Cycle: Timor 3-3