Lyse didn't know how to describe the experience.
He had been in deep meditation before; using void often required such a state of mind, but there was a certain serenity. And that was what he felt when he went into mediation. But then, when the drug entered his system, it was like a shock to awakeness. Except he did not wake. Euphoria overwhelmed him; this spike in awareness threatened to overtake every last one of his remaining senses. It took a lot to keep a level head, and he felt the wisdom of Athena keep him from tipping too far over the edge. And once he did that, he felt in control once more. But there was something else there too. This mysterious guide was in the back of his mind, pulling on his feet to move him. He relinquished himself to that and that alone. Moving along, eyes closed, trusting this feeling to lead him where he wanted to go.
Ryan observed Lyse. Thankfully the streets were utterly empty given the curfew, and most of the military police were caught up at the docks rather than where they were going. When he inhaled the bit of dust, he noticed a brief disturbance in Lyse's natural flow of avra. Sure, it was still as serene and as fluid as before, but it was at the same time disturbed. This was no ordinary stuff at all. Lyse stumbled about, looking like he would fall several times only to regain balance last second. He knew this was a dumb decision, but it was Lyse's to make. He would have to see where this plays out and make sure this guy doesn't kill himself before they could deal with Talin. He stayed out of sight, his dark cloak lending him invisibility at night and carefully watching every other shadow to make sure they weren't being protected or even followed. So far, nothing seemed off. They were headed towards the center of town, the open market where many of these victims went missing. Ryan was curious exactly how people could disappear in such a crowded space like this. So many eyes, it is impossible that no one saw someone being taken away or anything.
Lyse arrived at the market finally. The night grew cold at this hour, and the empty market area created a strange atmosphere. Rarely had he seen such a commercial place so deserted of human life. Every vendor spot had been shut down, and goods were taken into storage for the next day. The only noteworthy feature was the structure Lyse had mentioned. During the day, it was filled with beggars hassling passersby. But at night, not a soul could be seen. It was simply too dangerous, after all. It takes only a somewhat curious monster to stumble into town and have himself a feast on the needy. But that was where he was headed.
Perhaps it was instincts or intuition, but something told him to move. Ryan leaped from the shadows, grabbing him by the shoulders before he could step inside.
"Alright, I think we're here," he said. "Snap out of it already."
"But she's right there," Lyse said in low tones. "She's calling to me. So . . . beautiful."
Ryan struck Lyse across the face, stirring him from his meditative state. Lyse, in confusion, blinked twice as the pink light that had been there slowly faded from them. "Did you . . . did you just slap me?"
"It worked," Ryan suggested. "Anyway, it seems like your hunch was right. Look."
Lyse looked to the shrine. It wasn't very special looking. The traffic has indeed left it to disrepair over the years, and nothing of outward notoriety called out to him. So, he looked deeper. Taking a deep breath, he further delved into the wisdom of Athena and took a much closer look at the structure than before. By its looks, it was from the same ancient civilizations that had existed before Thiria, before the war in heaven, that had devastated reality itself. The more he examined it, the more curious he became of its make. It didn't look like something of a solid foundation, nor made for such heavy foot traffic. With the way, the arches were carved and their size, it was hard to believe this was a shrine to the old gods. Because it wasn't, he examined the ground, the large stone ring in the center space. He placed his hands directly in the center and used void to see through its construction. Using void to see through solid objects always produced a somewhat fuzzy visual. But as he dug deeper, he noticed the space suddenly became hollow, as a large chamber fell directly below them. That was when it dawned upon him. He pulled back.
"This isn't a shrine," he told Ryan. "It's the top of a building."
"Really?" Ryan asked. "So that means this is an entrance then?"
"Has to be," Lyse said. "There must be some way to open it. Maybe on the other side or-"
Ryan suddenly leaped forward. Using avra, he slammed a single fist down on the stone circle. Lyse quickly jumped back as the impact shattered the rock like it was made of glass. The stone was quickly two feet thick, but his blow shook the very ground. As much dust settled, what was left in Ryan's wake was a hole leading directly below into the darkness of whatever lay down. In this building.
"Could have waited till we had more back up," Lyse said. "Are you sure you want to do this now?"
"Call the captain if you want," Ryan said. "I'm going down there with or without you."
Lyse sighed. "Fine, but don't go too far. I shall be back after alerting one of the town's guards, alright?"
"Sure," Ryan said, then hopped into the hole alone.
Lyse shook his head. He hopes that being a leader won't be this difficult as time goes on or that the other godslayers won't be this stubborn. But stubbornness will do to serve him, he supposed, especially for what may come next for them down there.
(X)
Gray didn't know what he was expecting exactly, and he just knew it was undoubtedly destined to be an exciting encounter.
In all honesty, he's glad to of been given this particular assignment. He drew an excellent stick between talking to many hostile people he just took over or telling a bunch of soldiers to give up their weapons. Granted, he was the only knight with blacksmithing expertise, but he'd rather be helpful where he is now instead of where Edlund and Elena are. However, he did not expect just how far away the blacksmith was from the village proper. He would think the Boreans would have an interesting dynamic with flame, seeing how their lives revolve around the wonders of ice and snow. And the fact that they used conventional steel weapons intrigued him. In all honesty, how different people use smithing techniques has always fascinated him, but the Boreans just had to be of the utmost of interesting cases. It had to be. So when he came upon what looked like a rundown shack on the outskirts of town, he was surprised.
The degradation showed rather frail upkeep, the brickwork falling apart, and stray wood laid naked to the elements. It looked like a relatively strong wind was going to knock the structure over at any time. But the strong smell of burning metals and coals reassured him a bit as he dismounted from his horse. There was a single entrance, with only a curtain separating the inside air from the outside. But as long as the forge was strong, Gray wouldn't mind. As he approached, he noticed that several of the windows were only busted, stray glass littering the frosted ground unkempt. The curtains were torn as well. Questions popped into his head, but they would be kept till later. First, he is to meet this blacksmith.
"Hello," he called out in the native tongue of the Boreans. His pronunciation was not excellent, but it was well enough for only six months of practice and undoubtedly recognizable. But even still, it took two more calls before he got any form of a response. Finally, he heard distant cursing from inside, the clanging of metal falling to the ground, and the distinct smell of alcohol fast approaching until the curtains were angrily flung open.
"What do you want now, you-" the man paused once seeing Gray. He was a mesmerizing look. He was so pale compared to other Boreans that he could simply be mistaken as a sickly human. But those soft purple eyes gave him away. His hands and feet were coated with a permanent layer of soot and ash that would never come off now. He wore an open cotton shirt and loose-fitting woolen trousers that only amplified his relatively diminutive demeanor. He looked like a child wearing adult clothing, barely coming up to Gray's shoulder at full height. But his face showed all of his years and more. A patchy beard surrounded a permanent sneer, beady eyes that darted in focus, and crazy curly white hair that stood on end with hints of soot-making clumps. He was a blacksmith.
"Oh," he said with negative enthusiasm. At least he spoke thirian. "Your one of those southerners, aren't you?"
"Yes, yes I am," Gray said. He was uncertain how to approach the man; he seemed to be on a lousy temper already. "Forgive me if I'm disturbing you; I just wished to meet with you."
"Meet with me?" his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What does a boy like you want with me?"
"I'm a foot and a half taller than you, but whatever," Gray said under his breath; the man seemed somewhat interested in his response as he looked closely at Gray. "I uh . . . you see, I'm a blacksmith and was just wondering if I could get a look at your forge."
"Blacksmith?" he examined Gray with a far more penetrating gaze. "Look a little skinny for blacksmithing. Let me see your hands."
"My . .. what?" he asked, but the man urged him to do so with little patience. Then, finally, he sighed, taking off his thick gloves to reveal his hands to the weather. The Borean took one look at them before scoffing.
"You're one, alright," he said. "Probably started young, didn't you, boy," he said. "If you have the experience, don't bother. Just leave me be. I'm not of use to the likes of you."
"Hold on, wait," Gray went to catch the man as he turned, but the old man flung his hand aside as soon as he touched him.
"I said leave me be," he shouted. "I live out here for a reason, you know. So that I don't have to be around stupid people."
"I see that's working out for you," Gray pointed to the broken window, which the man took one good look at and sighed.
"Don't those kids have any idea how hard it is to make glass like that?" he said.
"So you're a glazier as well?" Gray asked. "That's amazing, and my dad never got the opportunity to teach me; he-"
"If I let you look at my stuff, would you leave?" the old man asked.
"Depends on how interesting it is, I suppose," Gray said as he began to walk into his abode. "Besides, I need a place to warm up anyway. Have anything hot to go down?"
The inside wasn't in much better shape than the outside. The forging area took up nearly two-thirds of the total area of the living arrangements. A bed, a cooking pot, and a small table with a single chair were off to one side. It wasn't exactly inviting, but what forge was. What he was immediately drawn to was all the equipment. Given his living quarters, he wouldn't have expected it, but the forging area contrasted the clutter with a well-organized system that Gray immediately recognized. His hammers, tongs, and fillers were hanging neatly on racks, grindstone and bellows in prime condition, and an open forge for heating raw material. He was astonished at how similar it was to their technology.
"Interesting," Gray looked at some of the glass-making equipment. "I'd thought this place would be a complete mess. No offense."
"Like I would let my things be ruined like that," he said as he snatched the blowpipe out of Gray's hands, setting it back down. "I've been doing this longer than you were born, boy. Respect my craft."
"Of course, forgive me," he said with a slight nod, which fascinated the old man. "So, you've been in Erusland all your life doing this."
He sighed. "No. Came from the bigger Volkf north."
"Re'Este?"
"No, a little smaller than that," he said. "Why you ask?"
"I mean, if you've been doing this for so long, I'd thought you would have better living conditions than . . . this."
The older man gave a sad chuckle to Gray's ignorant statement. "You think I want to live like this, do you."
"I mean," Gray never really considered it; he thought he was dealing with a weird hermit.
"You know why I'm the only one in town dealing with fire?" he asked Gray.
"I heard that you guys don't like the stuff; that's about it," he said.
Nevertheless, "fire is the enemy," he said. "It is a great blasphemy to wield it. But, because of my low birth, I am allowed to do something like this. It doesn't mean others will like it."
Gray looked at the broken window. "I assume you're not well respected then, huh?"
"To put it bluntly," he said. "The people would rather stone me to death. But I and others like me make their weapons, fix their things, and cook their food. It doesn't have to be glamourous, now does it?"
Gray decided not to comment. "I'll get you what you need to fix that."
"Don't bother," he said. "Nice gesture, but the place needed more air, and I was getting stuff in here anyway."
"Yeah," Gray said half-heartedly. It was honestly still pretty freezing inside. "Anyway, I'll be off to see to my living arrangements. It's been nice getting a look around."
The older man sighed. "Yeah yeah. At least you're leaving quickly
"Oh right," Gray stopped before he could step out of the small house. "Before I go, can I ask your name, sir?"
"My name," he seemed taken aback by the gesture. "Why would a knight need my name for?"
"I mean, I'm not going to call you old man repeatedly," Gray said. "I only have one of those."
The older man seemed unsure for a moment before finally relenting. "Fjord Yellin."
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Fjord Yellin."
(X)
Ryan dropped down into a rather large chamber. It looked to be some sort of hall, a vast space that stretched into the darkness. What he was standing on appeared to be the remnants of stone one of an elevator system that lifted one up into a tower above. Now it was in pieces. Massive pillars kept this place from caving in, each as thick as houses and climbing to the ceiling. Not to mention it was so dark as well. The only light that came through was the bit from street lamps directly above him. A once-great civilization's once magnificent decorations and architecture lay in ruins, crumbling underneath his boot. And the air. It was so devoid of life and stimulation like not a single living soul had disturbed it until his bold arrival. It whispered to him; leave now, before the dead shall claim you too. Indeed, it felt like he was being watched. But a few moments later, the knight alighted down next to him. He looked rather odd without his usually bright white cloak, and he almost looked like a rogue knight in poor hiding. Bring him a rope ladder clothes to the ground as guards followed suit. As they break lighting torches, securing the area. Lyse took one look around, then held up his sword. As he willed avra into it, the blade alit in a bright glow, like white flames across its surface they overpowered even the torches. The was nothing that was immediately outlandish about these ruins. Perhaps an old dance hall or even a public court? The many balconies stacked upon one another certainly gave that impression, each with an opening headed off into all sorts of directions, each potentially taking them directly to the heart of Talin.
"Well, we're here," Lyse said as he glanced about, already his mind working. "Now, where do we start?"
"Where is the direction of the warehouse we raided?" Ryan asked.
Lyse thought for only a moment before immediately pointing to the opposite end of this chamber. Two massive statues flanked a large exit. He immediately used void to see if anything, a trap or spell, was hidden in either of them. But they looked like ordinary decorative pieces of armor, worn and rusted much like this hall. He then extended his vision out further, a few dozen meters in all directions. Things became fuzzy the further he went, but nothing alarming could be demarcated. He sighed.
"Let's start there then?" he suggested. "I've told guards to send for aid, and they shall come within the next few hours. These men will secure this opening."
"Might as well have a look around then," Ryan said.
"We must tread lightly," Lyse warned him as they made their way down the hall. "Talin has no doubt rigged this place with all sorts of nasty . . . surprises."
Ryan stopped in his tracks as soon as he noticed Lyse had stopped his cautions. Lyse was staring at one of the balconies, where a few bits of rubble had fallen and destroyed half of it. Like others, there was a pathway that led off into the darkness. But Lyse, he knew he saw something more briefly, right? Indeed he was not going crazy, and he hadn't sensed anything with void. To make sure, he checked again, but nothing. Then he checked the statues just before them. Nothing.
"Hey," Ryan snapped his finger before the prince. "You alive in there? What'd you see?"
Lyse set his jaw, and his sword was still lit and held firmly. "Nothing."
They continued to move, though now the tension within the prince set Ryan on edge. He did not like not knowing what was going on. But just before they exited into the large tunnels past the entrance, The knight's avra suddenly burst to life. He had turned in less than a blink of an eye, his sword pointed at the balcony and glowing so fiercely that all shadows fled before him. The light seemed to leap from his blade, forming a condensed blast of raw avra that quickly shattered whatever was left of the balcony and left a crater. The entire building shook with the power, and the ceiling above rained down loose tiles and stalagmites that Ryan had to dodge to avoid. Dust, once undisturbed, billowed forth from the attack. And just as Ryan was going to lobby a complaint about stealth, he noticed something then two. Something disturbed the smoke, moving away and dodging. A dark figure he somehow did not acknowledge before. It was leaping from balcony to balcony. And each time, the prince unleashed another of these attacks, dedicating them until finally, it was forced to land right in the open.
Its form was held together by nothing but smoke and shadow, resembling that of a stag or some similar creature. It morphed and swayed with the darkness; only Lyse's blade revealed its form more thoroughly. Beneath the apparent layers of smoke and shadows, a pulsating purple light spread out like branches within. This creature, whatever it was, watched them. Its blaring violet eyes comprehended their entire existence.
"What is that thing?" Ryan asked as he drew his blade.
"Whatever it is, we must destroy it here and now," Lyse said and fired yet another attack at it. Ryan noticed that its form seemed to become even more human and natural when he struck. But it dodged gracefully, bouncing in the air like it was contacting invisible steps before it. Once Lyst had stopped attacking, it was allowed to disperse into the shadows and glide towards one of the two armored statues. Ryan suddenly had a bad feeling. Immediately, he looked down at his pendant, now glowing a fearsome deep purple. Whatever this spirit was, his charm did not like it one bit. Lyse prepared another attack to chase it out of its hiding place, but before he could do so, he noticed something very, very awry. The armored statue began to move. The smoky interior suddenly animated the various limbs, the rusted metal shaking and vibrating with the presence of this spirit invading it. Lyse observed three eyes appear through the visored helmet as the stature began to rip itself from its rooted pedestal and lift the massive thirty-foot-long blade into action. It raised it overhead before slamming it down directly into the stone. Despite the poor state of the sword, it slid into the rock like butter. A wave of fury swept over Lyse and Ryan, stinging them like stray embers from a fire and throwing their hair about. Then, finally, the unliving Centurion came to life, as its once ruined blade was lifted in challenge to the two before it.
"You had to piss it off, didn't you?" Ryan cursed as he readied his sword
"That spirit, whatever it is, was watching us this entire time," he said. "Must be some sort of warning system. Everyone stay back!"
Ryan and Lyse both dodged in opposite directions as the blade landed right where they were standing, decimating the floor in a single blow and throwing up rocks in all orders. Even coming close to that blade was nauseating. And per his luck, the statue immediately turned upon the knight who had initially attacked him. It moved so bizarrely fast for its size that it was able to strike before Lyse could even touch the ground. Swing its giant sword, and Lyse managed to block it with his own in mid-air. But of course, with no foundation for support, he was batted away and into a wall, shattering it on impact. Ryan infused his knives with avra, strengthening their durability and sending it flying at the creature who had turned its back on him. As expected, the avra-infused daggers sailed through the rusty armor like butter but did nothing to disturb it as it turned its attention towards him now. It swung its blade wildly, tearing up all that it struck in attacking Ryan, who was able to weave through its consecutive blows. Those unlucky to be caught in this rampage found themselves easily cleaved in two. They fired at the large metal man, but they're bullets either ricochetted off or passed through harmlessly.
Finally, it missed yet another swing and buried it deep. Ryan took this chance to strike, first at the weapon itself. He took a powerful stance, and before the Centurion could recover his blade, he slammed his palm into it. The power he outputted was more than enough to shatter buildings. But as he struck, the metal that should have crumpled like paper stood firm against him. the energy sapped from his attack as quickly as he contacted it. And the backlash of the negative aura caused his heart to cease from shock. If he weren't channeling avra, he would be dead right then. But that didn't stop the Centurion from punting him, its large metal boot contacting his entire body and sending him skipping across the room like a rock across a lake. He was momentarily dazed but regained his senses enough to dodge the blade coming directly down where he lay, rolling to the side.
Its blade sunk nearly halfway through the floor, and the aura it expelled once more weakened Ryan's nerves, making his muscles so much heavier than they were supposed to. The three eyes of the Centurion stared death upon him. It was death. But before it could make another move, a bright light zipped across the entire room instantly, and Lyse slashed viciously at the arm that held the sword in place. Effortlessly his blade glided through the metal as if it was not there. The Centurion stumbled back in shock, smoke and blue fire seeping from the new opening like blood. The light seemed to harm it, Lyse realized after witnessing its reaction.
"Attack its legs," he shouted to Ryan as he dashed towards the recovering Centurion.
Ryan didn't question a thing, taking up his sword and drenching it with avra, just like the knight. Lyse went high, and Ryan went low. The power of Hermes flourished within him as he pushed his speed to the limit, barely touching the ground as he moved. He bounced from wall to wall till he finally got into a favorable position. Lyse leaped into the air with his blade ablaze in white light. The Centurion went to grab him out of the air; his hand and fingers could quickly encase the knight in his grasp. But as it attempted to close its fist, the entire arm exploded as Lys unleashed another blast of Avra. At the same time, Ryan barreled through both legs at once. They shattered as soon as his blade contacted them, leaving only a torso and head left of this undead centurion, and Lyse was to finish it off. He buried his sword into the chest plate as it fell, and once more, his avra spiked in excitement as his blade grew brighter and brighter.
"Vanish into the light," he shouted. And suddenly, the entire room became engulfed in brilliant white light, filling the inside of the armor. The undead spirit writhed within before slowly it began to dissipate, no longer able to hold its original form, scattered away before Lyse's power. The now lifeless armor shattered and disassembled, nothing to animate it any longer as all traces of the spirit disappeared.
Lyse let out a slow breath to calm his agitated avra and allow the light on his blade to dull. Ryan felt ready to collapse, his muscles aching. He never used so much of the power of Hermes so much so quickly. Yet, even for a brief moment, he felt exhausted.
"Good thinking," Ryan said. "With the light and all."
"Most undead are weak against it," Lyse panted. "Come on, and we can't stop here. This place might be swarming in a minute or two. We don't want to be caught with our pants down."
Ryan nodded in agreement, picking up his blade and following the knight as they descended further into the darkness. The Centurion, they both knew, was only a taste of what was to come for them.