Chapter 26
The potion ran through Rodach's body. He gripped his sword tighter, and braced himself. Next to him, Lochien took up a bizarre fighting stance, one axe held above his head, the other at his waist. Rodach shook his head and focused his attention on the men charging towards them.
An arrow whizzed towards him, but it looked as if it was almost standing still to Rodach. He slid his head to the side. The arrow passed by harmlessly and bounced off the wall.
I need to frustrate this archer. If he keeps missing, then he'll make a mistake. That's when I strike.
Three men clad in black reached them first. Rodach lashed out with his sword, striking at the nearest. I can't afford to go on the defensive. I need to reduce their numbers before we're overwhelmed. Rodach pressed his hand against the dull edge of his blade and slammed it hard against the first attacker. The man stumbled, and Rodach slid his blade between the man's weakened guard. His sword cut into the attacker's stomach, evoking a cry, followed by a spray of blood. He pressed his foot against the man and pushed his body off his sword.
There was a thump as the body hit the ground.
Lochien was a whirlwind with his twin axes. His powerful strokes flowed, one into another, leaving no sign of weakness as he fended off two of the attackers by himself. A blade clattered across the stone. and blood spurted in the air. One of the men fell to the ground with a large gash in his throat.
Lochien is definitely no ordinary scholar. He hides himself well under those robes.
Rodach jerked his head to the side and dodged another arrow as it whizzed past his ear. The archer had to be frustrated by now seeing how close he was. He'll think to himself, 'just a little closer and I'll have him'. That's when he'll be mine.
He tightened his guard and moved towards the next attacker. I have to find out who sent these assassins after me. It had to be someone that knew where I was going. Someone like... Owen.
Rodach faltered, and his opponent's blade slashed across his arm. He gritted his teeth, and kicked the man in the shin. Rodach brought his sword around, and drove it into the man's hip. The attacker dropped to the ground with a shout. He drove the blade into the man's chest.
Owen? No, he would never betray me.
Rodach dodged another arrow, but this one grazed his shoulder, and cut into his flesh. He winced in pain.
Owen was the only one that knew about my departure. There's no one else.
He shook his head. I have to focus.
Rodach reached into his satchel and pulled out two more of the alchemical orbs. One was smooth, and one was rough. I'm glad I thought to use a different material on these.
He scanned beyond the stairs, his gaze settling on two more black-clad figures. They posed a threat, but they weren't who he was looking for. A moment passed, and the glimmer of metal caught his attention from within a crumbled building. Clever, but I've got you now.
Rodach threw the smooth orb towards the bottom of the stairs. It burst into a thick smoke, followed by coughing and choking sounds. He gripped the rough orb tightly, and threw it towards the archer. As he released the orb, an arrow flew just above Rodach's head.
The orb landed in front of the archer and exploded. Bits of stone and flesh flew every which way, and the force of the explosion shook the ground around them.
He ran his hand through his hair. gods' forbid one of those ever crack open inside of my satchel. It'd be the end of me.
Rodach glanced towards the bottom of the staircase. The two men that had been hiding slumped onto the ground now, unconscious. Just a pinch and you'll sleep like a baby. Twice the dose, and you might never wake up. It's a potent concoction.
Rodach turned at the sound of a scream as Lochien finished off his last opponent. One of his axes protruded from the man's skull. Lochien stepped on the attacker's chest, and yanked the axe out of his head. Blood sprayed onto robe, now more red than white.
Red is a more fitting color for this man.
The scholar smiled at him. “Well, this was a bit of a surprise, wasn't it?” Lochien wiped his axes off on the shirt of the man he had just killed before sliding them back into his belt.
Not an injury on him. I need to find out just who this man is. “They've been following me since I left the castle. I had expected guardsmen, but not this. This is... something else.” Owen, was it really you? Did you betray me after all these years?
Lochien wiped his hands on his robes. “I can see that. Any idea who they were?”
Rodach shrugged. “Not a clue. I intend to find out, though. However, I believe we have some business to attend to first.” Rodach pointed his sword towards Lochien. “Tell me, why are you here?”
“That should be obvious, Rodach.” Lochien raised an eyebrow. “I came here to wait for you, of course.”
How did he know? This man is dangerous.“For what purpose? Why should I trust you? We haven't had the best of meetings thus far.”
Lochien cocked his head. “Whether you trust me or not is up to you. I came here because I wanted to show you something.”
Sweat ran down Rodach's brow, and dripped off his nose. “Show me what, Scholar?”
“The source of the curse that plagues you. That is no ordinary skiima inside of your body, Lord Rodach.” Lochien turned away from him and walked towards the back of the temple. “Come with me if you wish to know more.”
Rodach stood motionless for a moment. I can't let my guard down. He's hiding something.
He followed behind the scholar, keeping his distance all the while. “Where are we going?”
“You'll see.” Lochien's shoes clicked against the stone, and echoed off the walls of the temple.
Golden statues of beasts that Rodach didn't recognize stood on either side of them, immortalized in their fearsome poses for eternity. Creatures with multiple rows of teeth, and bodies that looked to be made up of more than one kind of animal. A sinister-looking snake, coiled and ready to strike, brought back flashes of his nightmares. Its depthless eyes seemed to watch him as he passed by the statue.
“What kind of temple is this?”
“A very important one,” Lochien responded. “The people that built this city are long dead, but what they did here lives on.”
They entered a large, open room. It was empty, save for the statue of a monstrous creature placed in the center. Its mouth, full of rows of misshapen teeth, was wide open. It had an eye on each side of its head, giving it the ability to see things from every direction at once. A large, furry mane wrapped around its neck. Two giant paws pushed it into the air, almost as if it was trying to free itself from the confines of the temple.
I hope I never run into a real one of these things. Looks like it could swallow me in two bites.
Lochien stopped in front of the statue. “Here we are.” He reached inside of his robe and pulled out a familiar, silver object.
The Arguros Chest! Rodach took a step forward. “What are you planning on doing with the chest?”
Lochien looked over his shoulder. “You made the same mistake as your ancestor, Rodach. Both of you assumed that the chest held a wondrous power.” He set the chest in a slot inside the statue's mouth and pressed down.
There was an audible click, and the jaws closed around the box. “Neither of you were smart enough to realize the chest was a key to something much darker. The skiima inside of you is proof of your folly.”
How does he know about my ancestor? Could he have somehow read the journal? There were pages torn out from it...
“Lochien, stop with the games. What is this?” Rodach gestured around the room with his hand. When he had last been here the temple was sealed. The Arguros Chest rested on a small pedestal outside, and no matter how much he had tried, he'd never been able to gain entrance. How Lochien had gained access boggled him.
The room rumbled, and the floor shook as the statue split into two pieces, revealing a stairway that led down beneath
the temple.
“It's easier for you to see it with your own eyes than for me to outright tell you. Come. It's just a little further.” Lochien stepped between the statue halves, and descended below.
I can't believe I'm doing this. I should just kill the man where he stands and take the chest back. Reluctant, but overwhelmed by curiosity, Rodach followed the scholar downwards into the darkness beneath the temple.
A white glow emanated from the amulet in Lochien's hand as he walked down the stairs.
“I see that amulet of yours is useful for more than attacking people,” Rodach called out.
“Truth be told, it was never intended for that purpose. You're just unlucky,” Lochien shouted back.
Lochien waited for him at the bottom of the stairs. Rodach stayed behind him, not wanting to let the man from his sight.
Who knows what he'll do to me if I take my eyes off him?
The stairs ended at a narrow hallway which continued on for a short ways, and ending at a large pit. Rodach gazed over the edge, but couldn't discern anything. A foul stench emanated from below. He covered his nose at the smell.
“What's down there?”
Lochien grabbed a torch off the wall and brought it over to Rodach. “You'll see. Light this.” He handed the torch to him.
Rodach held the torch his hand, looked at it, then back at the scholar. “What for? Your amulet works well enough.”
“I'm not going to toss my amulet into the pit.” He shook his amulet for emphasis. “Now, light it.”
Rodach sheathed his sword, reached into his satchel, and pulled out a piece of flint. He's lucky I remembered to bring it. I usually forget.
Rodach muttered under his breath as he struck steel to flint. Sparks flew onto the torch and sputtered out. Another try, and one of the sparks sprung to life. He sheltered it with his hand, and gently blew on the spark. A moment later, the torch burst into flames.
Rodach recoiled from the heat, and grabbed the torch. He handed it back to Lochien. “Here's your torch. Happy?”
Lochien accepted it with a smile. “Quite. Now, watch carefully.” He walked over to the pit and tossed the torch into it.
“Wait, what are you—”
The torch flickered and sputtered as it dropped into the depths of the pit. Rodach could hardly make anything out in the dim light. He saw a large, hulking shape, the silhouette of something long and sharp, and then the torch hit the ground with a thud. It rolled to the side of the pit.
"I don't see anythi—"
Suddenly, the outer ring burst into a circle of fire. Rodach took a step back, and shielded his face.
“What the hell is that?” Rodach asked
Lochien gestured towards the pit. “Lord Usta, your ancestor from three hundred years ago.”
Rodach blinked, and gazed downwards. In the center knelt a creature so terrible looking that he nearly lost the contents of this stomach. Chains were wrapped around its neck, arms and legs. Leathery wings as wide as the pit were outstretched, as if the creature were trying to take to the air. A thick, black sludge oozed from the creatures body, and dripped into a puddle on the ground around it. Claws the length of Rodach's fingers reflected the light, and its mouth was filled with rows of sharp, crooked teeth. The creature's eyes were narrowed, its mouth open wide with a savageness Rodach had never seen before. Even dormant, the creature still fought against the chains that bound it.
He turned away and met Lochien's gaze. “No way. That can't be him. It can't be.”
Lochien's brow furrowed, and his eyes reflected the sadness in his voice. “It's true, Rodach. He never managed to break the curse.”
“You lie. That... thing isn't even human.” Rodach pointed towards the pit.
The scholar shook his head. “He had a skiima in him, just as you do Rodach. There's another part to the curse. One he didn't discover until it was too late.”
Rodach gripped the hilt of his sword. “Tell me.”
“The Arguros Chest is a container for a skiima. However, it twists and corrupts the skiima, driving it to a purpose. A purpose that would spell doom for our kind if it was released. Rodach, the skiima inside of you is the same. It has been corrupted in such a way that, should it be unleashed, our world would never recover.”
He drew his sword and pointed it at the scholar's throat. “Lies. All lies. I won't sit here and let you mock me anymore.”
Lochien didn't so much as blink. “Rodach, you have to listen to me. The skiima has been growing inside of you all this time. Soon, it will be too powerful for you, or I, to contain.”
Rodach pressed the tip of his blade against Lochien's throat. “I told you to stop.”
“It’s angry. Enraged,” Lochien continued. “The skiima is no longer itself. It's been twisted so much by the chest that it has lost to the madness inside.”
Lochien looked him in the eyes. “Rodach, it wants its body back and will stop at nothing to obtain it. That is the only way the skiima will be free of its shackles. You must have felt its madness stir inside of you on many occasions. What I say is the truth, and you know it.”
None of this makes sense. How could that be my ancestor? What happened three hundred years ago in this place?
“I can see you're torn. There's one more thing. Something I was entrusted with long ago.” Lochien reached into his satchel and pulled out a small, round container. He opened it, and pulled a rolled piece of parchment from within.
“What's that?”
Lochien handed it to Rodach. “The last page of Usta's diary.”
He snatched it from Lochien's grasp, and carefully unrolled it. The parchment was covered in blood, and some of the writing was illegible, but it was the same hand writing from the diary he'd found beneath the keep.
I have failed.
It won't be long now. The creature mocks me, even as I struggle to hold onto what's left of my humanity. I was all wrong. I thought that if I came here, I'd be able to stop it. However, upon arriving, I found myself trapped within the temple.
It wanted to come here.
So, now, in my final moments, I can only write. Please, should this diary somehow survive the destruction to come, do not let anyone else repeat the same mistake that I have made. What resides down here is an ancient evil created for a single purpose.
To destroy.
If you're reading this, then I beg of you, find a way to banish this evil from the world.
My time grows short...
“How did you get this?”
Lochien pressed his lips together. “I was the one that found the journal here. I returned it to your ancestor, and swore to protect your family from this curse should it reoccur in later generations.”
He shook his head. “What? Why didn't you tell me any of this before?”
Lochien shrugged. “I didn't have much of a chance.”
There was one other thing that bothered him. “Wait, if you recovered the journal and gave it to an ancestor of mine, I take it you don't mean my father. So, that would make you—”
“—very old,” Lochien answered, his tone firm.
Rodach closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He lowered his sword, and slid it into its sheath with a click. The parchment crumpled in his hand.
I will fulfill your wish the best I can, Usta. I'll rid myself of this creature that dwells within me and find out what caused all of this to happen.
“Fine.” He opened his eyes. “Tell me what I must do.”