Thick, imposing darkness greeted the companions as the pocket of magic melted from around them. Each fought the uneasy feeling the spell caused — a nausea similar to seasickness but not as violent. It struck Viola the hardest since she was the source of the spell. She doubled over as her insides fought to escape her. Janessa grabbed her by the arm and tried to steady her. As quick as the feeling struck Viola, it was gone.
"I'm fine." Was all Viola could manage to say to her friend. Janessa let her go, her own eyes were filled with worry. Viola straightened, smoothing her robes where she had held onto them a moment earlier. After a minute, and a few breaths, she broke the uneasy silence. "I think... there were too many of us. Or..." A shiver ran through her body, keeping her from finishing her thought.
Worried, Janessa cast a glance to Gilliam, but the cleric shook his head in answer to her silent question. While he could do nothing for her symptoms, which had already passed, he did step forward until his face was inches from hers. His dark, penetrating eyes locked onto Viola's, attempting to find an answer to his own questions. Satisfied, though not relieved, he turned to the others. "She's fine, just a little shaken."
"Can't blame the lass there." Galin's eyes swept across his line of sight searching for something. "We're not alone."
All of them felt it. The feeling of a thousand eyes locked onto them sent shivers through each of the companions. Only Gilliam seemed immune to it. Something Viola found herself envious of at the moment, although she doubted that was the reason for her uncontrolled shiver a moment earlier. Towards the end of the spell, she allowed herself to become distracted. Her lack of focus was what made the transportation spell so difficult on them, on her. She could've killed them all then and there. They were lucky, and she understood that better than the rest. She needed to be certain to concentrate harder the next time, the spells on the scrolls Mern gave her were more advanced than she was used to. The next time she used one... it could kill them all. Her difficult lesson learned, she did her best to ignore the feeling of the spirits.
Without being heeded, Gilliam stepped forward into the darkness straight and proud. "Have no fear; we're not here to hurt you." The feeling surrounding them seemed to lesson, but not enough for the companions to stop looking for the one creature they were sure was sneaking up behind them. Gilliam held out his arms to his sides, his robes giving him the appearance of a moth or colorless butterfly. "We seek only safe passage to the tunnels beneath Hope's walls."
"I don't like this. Give me something I can fight, but ghosts?" Galin's words sounded hoarse as he whispered them to no one in particular.
Janessa's head turned like it was on a swivel. "It was never like this before, never this bad."
Berek's hand rested on the hilt of his sword while he scanned their surroundings with his night vision. At last, he was certain they were being watched by spirits. He didn't doubt his uncle, he simply didn't believe in such things until that moment. "They're feeding on our fear." Not sure where the realization came from, Berek knew it was the right answer.
"I don't mind telling you that I'm not a good dinner guest." So out of place was Viola's comment, that the others burst into laughter, though it was short-lived.
Gilliam heard every word spoken, but he ignored them while praying to Fallor to ease the restlessness of the dead around them. He was so intent on his prayers, he didn't seem to notice the young mage's comment, something she noted with an oath to be like him from that moment forward. For long tense minutes, Gilliam prayed, but the restless souls refused to leave. Then, when he wasn't expecting it, he felt his prayers answered and his hand being drawn to his mace.
In a singular motion, he lifted the mace above his head and a brilliant white light burst from it. While not harmful to the shadows, the light did force the spirits back as well as cover all those it touched with a protective barrier against the fear the spirits caused. The companions gathered behind him before he could utter a word for them to do so.
Gilliam looked over his shoulder. "You know where the entrance is?"
It took Janessa a moment to realize he was asking her. Lost in the brilliance and wonder at what the cleric had done, she nodded. "Yes, behind that building over there." She pointed to what looked to be a dilapidated warehouse.
Gilliam nodded. "Stay within the light." He didn't need to say anything else; the companions understood and obeyed without hesitation. Without a sound, they made their way towards the warehouse as one. Berek walked the rearguard position, even though nothing was there to threaten them, and kept his eyes scanning through the darkness. Much as his uncle had been surprised by his own abilities, Berek was likewise by his uncle's. He never would've dreamed Gilliam could summon such a thing. Though Berek would've been disappointed to hear it, Gilliam didn't believe it possible himself. In this, Gilliam knew he was merely a vessel for the power to flow through.
Though the pace set by the cleric was steady, it seemed to take forever and a day to reach the entrance to the tunnels. Each of their steps brought them closer, but the weight of the fear caused by the spirits made the distance seem so enormous. As if the spirits hoped Gilliam's power would fade and they'd feast once more on the companion's fear, they continued assaulting the barrier of light with each step the companions took.
Though it was difficult to instill fear in a Halfling — life is one big adventure to them — the feat proved easy during an adventure when the rest of their party were already on edge. "Is the light hurting them?" Janessa couldn't help but ask. Even though they were spirits, she felt for them.
The other companions hadn't shown the slightest concern for the ghosts of Peasant's View except for Gilliam. As a cleric of Fallor, it was his duty to heal the living and combat the unholy undead. The dead, however, were subjects of both reverence and sympathy. Some chose to revere them for not wanting to leave their loved ones without a guardian while others held them in sympathy for not letting go and continuing the journey to their next life.
Gilliam found himself in the middle of the two opinions. He preferred to revere the dead for their lives, be they successful or not, and he held those unable, or unwilling, to rest with deep sympathy. As a cleric of light, he would never do, nor wish harm, on the spirits forever seeking peace. Thus, he was surprised by the Halfling's question. Most others feared the dead, viewing any and all spirits as evil and demonic. Janessa's concern touched him; perhaps there was a hope for the little thieves after all.
"No, it doesn't hurt them. It's what they're seeking but are afraid of at the same time." Gilliam's response both answered and intrigued the Halfling, but before she could ask more, he froze in place causing her to walk into his back.
"Bellow's Fire!" Galin exclaimed. "Have you put us in danger, mystic?" The others halted as the Dwarf's words burned into their minds, and they understood at once what power Gilliam held blazing from his mace.
Gilliam paused to look at Galin and the others, then back to the brilliant light emanating from his mace. None of them realized until then that the light should've blinded them all and been a beacon for the entire city in the darkness with the clouds concealing the full moon above them. Instead, it cast no light on their surroundings. Even they were dark shapes under the protective influence cast about them. It was warm and inviting, but none of them felt drawn or called to it. The light was the comforting arm of a mother around her child, the love of a couple embracing, but it wasn't for them.
Gilliam looked back at them with a sad smile. "Galin, we are in no danger as we are alive. The spirits here are enthralled with it, unable to decide on what to do." He shrugged. "They have given up their hold to this world but wish to remain. There is no danger in peace."
Everyone remained silent for a moment as his words taught them all in some way. Most felt as though they had attended a funeral, except it wasn't a depressed sadness but a warm, comfortable sadness as one experiences after the death of a loved one and looks back on their lives with fondness rather than regret.
Both Viola and Janessa stood side by side, one comforting the other until Viola spoke. "We'd best get moving."
Janessa nodded her agreement as did Galin. "Aye, lass, it won't remain dark for long."
Berek rested a hand on Gilliam's shoulder. "Uncle?"
Gilliam nodded with a sad smile. He didn't know where his words had come from. Whether the words were his or not didn't matter. For now, he wondered at what was given to him that night. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he turned back towards the broken down warehouse with their destination behind it. From that moment on, each step seemed to move them forward at a running pace, even though the pace Gilliam set was the same as a few minutes before. Strange how quickly one's perception can alter things, he thought as they turned past the far side of the deserted warehouse. There, he stopped at two large wooden doors reinforced with steel sitting in front of him on the ground, their locks glowed in the darkness.
Before anyone could say anything good or bad, Janessa stepped forward, rubbing her palms together. "This won't take no more than a minute." Kneeling on the ground, she studied the lock for a few seconds and mumbled something about dual tumblers, and then searched through her pocket for her tools.
Gilliam, Berek, and Galin all exchanged looks of knowing. Berek smiled and shrugged. "We each must use our gifts when necessary."
Galin stroked his beard. "True enough. Just glad I never left my lock box unattended."
Viola saw the looks the three exchanged and she felt her face flush. They were understanding. At least, she assumed the cleric was. Mystics of the light tended to look down on people like her and Janessa, but then he had thrown in with them, hadn't he? She couldn't help but feel them judging her and Janessa.
"We have to eat somehow." Viola meant to sound offhand; like she was one of them. Instead, it came out sounding defiant. She noticed Janessa tense somewhat, either her curiosity was aroused or she was prepared to come to Viola's defense if need be as the mage had come to hers. Viola chose to believe the latter, but to her surprise, Gilliam responded to her first.
Gilliam's face looked haggard, like he bore some great weight that could never be understood. Viola felt ashamed for her previous tone after seeing the pain and age in the cleric's blue eyes. "We pass no judgments, as we are far from angelic ourselves. Please, don't misunderstand what we say or do."
Viola nodded and her apology was accepted without hesitation. Janessa heard it all as she worked to open the lock. She didn't cry or take any of it as an insult. In fact, she took the whole event as a compliment. It seemed at last they found friends that didn't judge them without the benefit of the facts. As a Halfling, it was something that was seldom, if ever experienced.
Halflings, the scourge of the land, the kings of thieves, were a couple of phrases often used by the other races throughout the world of Pyrain. From the day they came into being, Halflings have been as unique as any other race. They were created by the Goddess Arabeil to personify her mischievous nature towards her siblings' creations. She copied her oldest sister Helus' race of Elves and their features, but decided to mock the Elves' statuesque beauty by making them half the size of their cousins, hence the name Halfling.
Next, Arabeil gave them the urge to travel in opposition to her twin brother Crax's Dwarven race. No Halfling would ever be at home in a confined environment like the Dwarves. As a final point, she looked to the oldest of her siblings for her greatest challenge. Rowan created the humans to embody nobility, grace, and the will to enjoy one's existence. To balance those qualities, he granted them shorter life spans than the rest of the Pyrainian races, meant as an example to the other races as well as his siblings that everything must come to an end. Excited about the prospect of her creation, Arabeil placed her brother's mantra "Living life to the fullest" as the main driving force for the Halflings.
Arabeil chose to omit the traits of her remaining siblings' creations from her own. Narsa enjoyed anarchy and hated anything beautiful, hence her creations such as Ogres, Goblins, Hobgobins, etc were hideous. After being shunned, Narsa felt insulted, hence her creations sought to destroy those of all her siblings.
Not to be outdone, Draco did the opposite of Arabeil and created the dragons that embodied everything the rest held in high standards, alas they included the darkness of Narsa's creations. But it was worth it to maintain balance, which he claimed was essential. Thus, Arabeil didn't mimic anything from him, stating his creations were perfect and couldn't be duplicated. Already smug and arrogant, such praise created incredible tension between Draco and his other siblings. Because of that, Arabeil couldn't be blamed by their father for causing trouble.
On the day the first of the Halflings took their first breath, the rest of Pyrain didn't know what was unleashed on their world. Since then, the Halflings became some of the most prevalent thieves the world had ever known. A lock couldn't be made they couldn't pick, not a pocket or change purse was safe from the master pickpockets, and due to their size, quick feet, and quicker wits, they proved to be difficult for the larger races to catch and throw in prison. Compared to rabbits more than anything else, a Halfling caused most people to break out in cold sweat and dread the day they met one of the cursed creatures.
Such is the reputation that will follow the last Halfling to their deathbed. Though examples are plentiful, few believe the stories of noble Halflings existing as they're overshadowed by the negative rumors most hold dear.
It's the last category Janessa believed herself to be in, if she was ever asked the question. Like most Halflings, she wasn't evil or conniving like her people were made to sound. The other races have more inherited darkness in their hearts than the worst of the Halflings. Those were some of the thoughts flowing through Janessa's mind while she worked on the lock to the entranceway of the tunnels. She didn't take offense at what had been said; she was pleased and happy she was able to surround herself with such a collection, even though it was by accident.
With a click, the lock opened. Beaming with pride, Janessa stood to open the door and wondered if her new friends would like to go to her home, the home of all Halflings: Journlest. The Halfling word for journey. Hopeful they would, she pulled on the metal rung meant as a handle but it didn't budge.
Certain she hadn't pulled hard enough, Janessa was about to try again when Galin took hold to help her. She couldn't help but smile at him. Galin flushed. "No offense, lass, but it is large and undoubtedly heavy."
"None taken. I'm big enough to know when I'm overmatched." She noticed Berek crouch next to them and search for a handhold along the side. "I'll be offended if the three of us fail to budge it."
Berek smiled. "We could use a couple of Ogres. I hear they have a good grip."
Gilliam chuckled while both Viola and Janessa looked at the humans for any hint of what they meant. The only hint they had was the look on Galin's now bright red face, which Viola couldn't see. "Now's not the time, lads. Ready? One... Two... Three!" The three pulled at the door with everything they had, but it didn't budge. Their exasperation was voiced by Galin as he threw curses at it that would make a sailor blush.
Panting, the three of them sat in the dirt attempting to catch their breaths. Gilliam went to each one, whispering a blessing on their sore, and in Berek's case, bleeding hands. Once he finished, he looked at Berek. "Is it locked from the inside?"
Berek shook his head. "There's no evidence of a lock besides the one she opened." He motioned to the latch that had been over the lock. Once it was unlocked, it flipped open leaving no other devices. "No lock could seal a door like that; nothing made by man, that is."
Gilliam looked at Galin, then at the others; he was out of ideas. "Then what?"
"It must be a magical lock." Viola answered as she moved over to help Janessa in case she was needed.
Berek was the first to nod as Galin said, "Never seen so much sorcery in my life until today."
Gilliam looked to Viola. "Can you open it?" He knew a magical seal was a simple spell, but aside from some parlor tricks and the near disaster with the scroll, he was anxious as to the limits of Viola's abilities. Though he wasn't sure Berek could break the spell, Gilliam trusted him over a mage in training. Besides, it was important they knew her limits before finding themselves in a situation she couldn't handle.
Seeming to know what the cleric was thinking, Viola smiled; not her usual carefree smile but one full of arrogance. He thinks I can't do it! I'll show him! she thought as the spell was already on her lips. A second later, the large door covering the opening swung open and a rush of stale smelling air rushed out to them.
Viola smiled at Gilliam. "Satisfied?"
Gilliam nodded. "Yes, but why magic it like that?"
"To keep intruders from entering the city unawares would be my guess," Galin offered, breathing in the musty air with deep breaths. It smelled just like home.
"Or to keep something out." Berek's eyes were locked on the darkness of the tunnel. The look in his eyes sent shivers up everyone's back, except for Galin.
"I just said that, Berek. Your mind's someplace else," Galin snorted his response. All their talk of magic grated the Dwarf's nerves. Like all of his kind, he distrusted magic in any form.
"That's not what he meant." Viola rubbed her arms against the sudden chill sweeping through her.
"The spell sealed the door from the inside. Something doesn't want us to go in there." Berek's tone was matter-of-fact.
Gilliam looked at his nephew in complete surprise. How would he know? "You sense something?"
Berek shook his head. "Nothing I can place." He looked at Viola. "You?"
Viola shook her head; Janessa's hand grasped hers and gave a squeeze. They were scaring themselves over nothing, Viola was sure of it, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.
Berek took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "No way to tell by standing around out here." In two strides, he was partway down the stairs leading into the dark tunnel. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
Gilliam's eyes searched his nephew's for answers. After a moment, he nodded. "We'll go in together. Galin bring up the rear, Viola stay behind me in case we find something."
Galin shook his head readying his hammer. "This night is getting stranger by the minute."
Berek smiled at him. "Who wants to live forever?" A second later, he and Gilliam disappeared into the darkness with Viola and Janessa close behind them.
Grumbling, Galin followed. "I wouldn't mind trying to."
In Halfling fashion, Janessa turned and smiled at the grumbling dwarf. "We won't leave you behind."
Galin's face hardened, which caused Janessa to chuckle. "Only I'd get stuck with a group of court jesters." More grumbling threatened to come out, but Galin clamped his mouth shut. He lived long enough to know there were plenty of dangers underground and none of them needed a warning by a grumpy Dwarf.
The darkness of the tunnel enveloped them as they moved deeper inside it, much as a scared child would pull a blanket over his head to hide from some imagined evil. The companions traveled a few yards before stopping. Using his night vision, Berek could see torches along the walls held in sconces. Satisfied, he took a few from their perches and handed them to each of the companions.
Knowing Berek's plan, Viola spoke a word of magic and the torches burned for the first time in years. While the light was warm and welcoming, Janessa had a sudden fearful thought. "If something doesn't want us down here, won't the torches give us away?"
No one spoke for a moment until Viola shrugged. "Whatever it is already knows we're here."
Janessa's hands tightened on her torch. "How? We've hardly made a sound?"
"Once the wizard lock was broken, the one that cast the spell would know." Viola moistened her lips with her tongue. "If they're still alive."
The words seemed to settle Janessa's nerves. Of course, whoever cast the spell was dead. No one had been down there in at least a century. Satisfied, she smiled, she didn't mind running into someone that was dead since they couldn't do any harm. She didn't like the queer feeling fear gave her.
Berek and Gilliam exchanged a look; they were both wondering what was waiting for them when Galin spoke. "Not to worry, lass, plenty of creatures to be fought down here that can be killed."
With their concerns addressed, the companions continued their journey into the depths of the city's history. It was strange, as Janessa noted later, that none of them noticed Berek hadn't taken a torch even though he was in the lead. Unknown to her, one did notice, and despite their newfound relationship, Gilliam's concern began to grow. Berek seemed to have lost himself, as if he was being drawn to something only he understood. The cleric came to believe his nephew's soul wasn't in danger to the source of his powers. Instead, he was certain Berek's soul was in danger because of his powers. Mindful of the slight change, he was determined to keep watch on the young fighter.