Chapter 22 - Weapons of Fate

  They sank through the endless darkness as Robert’s staff cast a meager glow around them, like a firebug flickering against a moonless night. He watched his mana tick away to nothing as his spell, providing their only source of illumination in the water, finally sputtered and died. Darkness swallowed them as panic began to take hold.

  Cursed hell, he thought, no longer able to see in front of him, but still feeling the cold water rush past as Varg continued to pull their group down into the depths. He felt Alice grip his arm tighter while his other hand remained crushed within Brukk’s clawed grip.

  Did we fall into another trap, Robert thought as he felt the pressure against his ears rise. It was subtle, far less than what he would have felt swimming only a few meters down in a lake. But whatever magic governed the dungeon water also seemed to lessen the crushing pressure of the depths.

  Too late for second thoughts, trap or no trap. The only way forward is down, into the abyss. As if the dungeon were listening to his thoughts, acknowledging his resolve, a blue beam of light shot upward from the darkness below them. Robert squinted against the glare, seeing his companions ahead of him continue their swim downward. Varg, his skin returning to normal from its iron texture, had accelerated his kicks, steering them toward the source of the light that had erupted from somewhere far beneath them.

  Keep kicking, Robert told himself as their speed began to pick up. He could feel a sudden pull in the water start to overtake them as they were drawn faster and faster downward until they were enveloped by the beam of light. It blinded him as Robert ceased to swim, letting the current drag them down with rapid force. With his eyes closed, shielded from the light and no longer aware of his surroundings, the ever increasing pressure bearing down on him in the depths suddenly ceased, followed by the painful impact of stone.

  “Gasp,” Robert croaked, choking in a huge breath of air. Dazed, his vision slowly returned. He was in some type of gray stone chamber, and directly above him, a square cutout in the ceiling held back the rippling blue lit water of the underwater cavern, as if some great magic were keeping the entire watery abyss from collapsing down onto their heads.

  "Will you lot get off of me!" he heard Varg bellow behind him.

  Transfixed by the water above, Robert failed to register the cries of his party members sprawled beneath him.

  "I think there’s something wrong with my arm," he heard Oswin cry as the sight of Brukk’s tall frame suddenly filled his still fuzzy vision above him.

  "Get up, human," Brukk growled, grabbing him across his bearskin vest and yanking him to his unsteady feet.

  Robert steadied himself on the cold mason bricks that made up the gray chamber. To his left, he saw in horror that he had fallen atop Varg, Alice, and Oswin. Varg was already pushing himself up, seemingly unharmed, but Alice lay unconscious, and Oswin sat upright, staring at one of his arms, which appeared to be bent backward.

  "Um, Robert, there’s definitely something wrong with my arm," Oswin said, staring at the twisted limb in shock.

  Fumbling his fingers beneath his bearskin vest, Robert grasped the last mana potion still strapped across his breastplate. He popped the cork and downed the vile blue liquid in a single swig while Oswin screamed as Varg snapped his arm back into place with a disgusting crack. With his mana restored, Robert slammed his wooden staff against the stone floor, casting a party heal that illuminated the small room in a white glow.

  To Robert’s relief, Alice sprang awake as his spell took hold and began rejuvenating the party back to full health. While holding the channeled heal, Robert inspected the unnatural chamber they’d fallen into. The stone around him was cut into perfect rectangular blocks. Man made, he thought, and to his left stood a simple wooden door, closed and fitted with an iron ring handle.

  "Is everyone all right?" Robert asked as his healing spell faded. "Apologies for falling on top of everyone. I couldn’t see once we entered the blue light."

  Varg rumbled something under his breath before Alice responded. "We made it, Robert," she said while twisting the end of her black cloak to drain what water she could from it. "That’s all that matters."

  "Agreed, Robert!" Oswin said, leaping lightly to his feet as he stretched his healed arm, now back in its normal position.

  “Then let’s get whatever tricks this place has left for us over with,” Robert said, taking two steps forward toward the wooden door before pausing. “If only my heals did something for exhaustion,” he added, pushing his tired legs forward again as the ache from the long swim down burned with every step. Reaching the common looking pine door, he placed his wet hand on the cold iron ring and hesitated briefly, but sensing no trap, he pulled inward, opening the ancient door in a wide arc.

  A dark and vast nothingness stood before Robert, where the subtle bluish light from the rippling water that illuminated the chamber behind him suddenly stopped at the door’s frame, failing to pierce the lightless unknown beyond. As Varg and Alice stepped up beside him to peer into the darkness, Robert pushed his staff forward through the threshold and cast his Holy Light. The glow flared outward from the tip of his staff, but as he increased his mana draw to strengthen the spell, the light began to refract back in on itself, as if the darkness within the room were pushing against it, keeping the Holy Light at bay.

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

  "Enter then. Enter my realm."

  Robert grimaced again at the sound of the awful voice as it rattled him to his core.

  "And what traps do you have for us now, dungeon bastard?" Varg shouted beside him in response. But there was no answer, only the darkness that lay ahead.

  Only one way to find out, Robert thought.

  “Follow me, everyone,” he said as he inched forward, keeping his eyes on the faint light at the tip of his staff while the darkness closed in around them. He found his footing was firm, though he could not see his boots in the dark. Turning back a few yards into the void, he could make out the faint silhouettes of his party behind him. Closest to the doorway, Brukk ducked as he entered the black chasm. Robert could still see the blue lit chamber past him, but outside the frame of the doorway there was nothing, only the darkness of whatever new realm they had stepped into. As the great orc crossed the threshold, the door behind him slammed shut, leaving them all in darkness other than the faint glimmer of Robert’s staff.

  "I can’t see anything!" Oswin cried somewhere in the dark.

  Robert waved the faint light of his staff around him, searching the darkness for the enchanter and the rest of his party when the dungeon’s voice rang out again.

  "Show me. Show me the weapons of damnation."

  "Show you bloody how? We can’t see anything in this cursed place," Varg called out somewhere next to Robert.

  Robert grabbed the stone staff slung across his back and held it up in his free hand opposite his trusted oaken staff.

  "Let’s not antagonize this place further, Varg. Everyone draw your weapons," he said.

  “Ow,” Alice cried in the dark. “Watch your step, Varg!”

  “That was me, human,” Brukk replied.

  “Everyone, just hold your weapons out toward the light on my staff,” Robert said, extending it toward the sounds of the group.

  One by one, the Weapons of Fate came into faint view. The curve of a bow, Oswin’s stone wand, the tip of a greatsword, and finally whatever was the massive boulder that Brukk held, all edging into the weakening glow of Robert’s spell.

  "Here, dungeon. Here they are as the trail requires them. Not works of evil from my perspective though, just simple stone, inert," Robert said, though he did not entirely believe it himself.

  No response came until a rippling sound began to emanate somewhere behind him. Turning, a faint dark blue hue appeared in the void as five unconnected rectangular walls, no taller than Varg, began to form around them. Their surface was unlike anything Robert had ever seen, illuminated by a bluish texture that rippled inward and outward like disturbed water.

  "What is this game, dungeon?" Varg roared.

  "Your chance at swift death is behind you now. Place the weapons upon their cursed altars..."

  Robert looked back at his party with a worry in his eyes now illuminated by the new blue light emanating from the five walls. Despite the ominous warning, what choice do we have now, he thought.

  "What are you thinking, Robert?" Alice asked as she walked up beside him. "Another trap or puzzle for us to solve?"

  "I don’t think so, Alice. Not this time," he whispered back in a low voice. "The dungeon’s voice gives it away. It sounds… defeated."

  Robert walked forward and approached one of the rippling walls. As he did, he noticed its moving surface was not made of water, but of thousands of small fluorescent tubes filled with some sort of glowing blue liquid, pulsing outward from somewhere behind the dark surface they emerged from. They almost reminded Robert of tiny river snakes, but they had no scales and no heads that he could discern, only flat circular ends pulsing blue light in front of him. Still, Robert thought, they moved with an eerie sentience, as if watching him.

  He slung his wooden staff across his back, releasing his Holy Light spell as the blue glow of the rippling walls intensified.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Holy Light (Level 7)]

  "Let’s see what this does then," Robert said, extending his stone staff toward the strange wall. The rippling surface recoiled in response, and the dungeon’s voice spoke once more.

  "As a party you entered, a party you shall depart."

  The remainder of the party dispersed in silence, each of them stepping toward one of the blue lit walls. When the last of them, Brukk, walked up and stood tall in front of the wall beside Robert, the walls began to move again in response. At the center of each surface, the slithering fluorescent tubes parted, forming the outline of a weapon. Robert’s eyes widened as the movement left nothing but a black void shaped into the hollow silhouette of his stone staff. He glanced right and saw the wall before Alice had formed a similar hollow, though hers was shaped like her bow.

  "Now... place your cursed weapons into the Great Forge."

  Hesitating only briefly, Robert extended his arm, as did the others around him, placing their stone weapons into the voids formed by the Great Forge. As his staff crossed into the emptiness, the light stone began to warp before his eyes, as if it were being erased from existence. At that same moment, the slithering tubes around the void snapped forward, wrapping around his extended arm in a crushing vise.

  "Robert… Alice!" he heard Oswin scream in terror behind him, but he was too lost in his own shock to respond as the fluorescent ends of the slithering, snake like tubes began to grow fangs.

  Not fangs, Robert thought. Glimmering razor sharp needles extended outward from the glowing tubes, pulling him forward as if he were being dragged into a standing bed of nails. Was I wrong? he thought. Had we willingly stepped into another trap?

  His mind raced as his arm was pulled farther through the void in the wall when the slithering, spiked appendages suddenly struck in unison. Robert screamed as the needles pierced his skin and the living wall began to wrap around him like a spider webbing its prey. A burning fire spread quickly through his body as his vision began to blur. With the last of his wits, he fought furiously against the pull, but with every backward thrash, more and more needles sank into his exposed flesh, weakening his resolve.

  When the last of his strength finally left him, Robert was pulled forward in silence, along with the rest of his party, into the void of the Great Forge.

  [System: Weapon on Fate Protocol activating…]