Fading Loyalty
"Still here, eh? You'd better have the coin to pay up," said the innkeeper, scowling through his tiny rodent eyes while gathering the ale tankards.
The place was mostly deserted during that hour, with the exception of a few mercenaries staying at a table in the back. Damon didn't respond and kept resting his head on the bar counter. A few rays of light melted through the stained windows, relieving the gloom of the sordid tavern.
"Every bloody time..." the innkeeper grumbled and poked him in the arm. "Hey, I'm talking to you! If you don't cough up the fifty silver pieces you owe me, my men will beat the lights out of you!"
After the last threat, Damon raised his head lazily and gazed at the man, his eyes slightly open. The mild effects of the hangover persisted still, his head thudding with pain.
"Good morning to you too, Laris," he groaned, faking a smile, then placed his head back on the counter.
"Do not make me ask again. The money, now!"
"Twenty silvers. That's all I have right now so it will have to do," Damon answered with a dull voice.
Laris took the coins and motioned for two of his hulky guards to come over.
"I would not recommend doing that. As you've undoubtedly noticed, I am not in the best of moods," Damon said, apparently calm on the surface.
The innkeeper laughed off his warning while one of the hirelings approached Damon and banged his palm on the counter.
"Looks like we have ourselves a filthy rascal over here," he said to the other guard, who grinned cruelly.
"Well, you asked for it."
Without further threats, Damon drew out his dagger and pierced the man's hand, lodging it to the counter. The other guard sprang also for attack but was immediately knocked to the ground by a surge of telekinetic wave.
"Are we finished here or do you still want more?" Damon said tauntingly.
Enraged by his friend's failure, the wounded man began charging as well but had to leap sideways in order to evade a sudden flaming blast.
"No, stop! You are going to burn down my tavern!" Laris yelled, tearing his hair out.
Damon paid no attention to him and hurled a fireball at the hireling, blasting the man through the window while the other mercenaries fled away in panic.
"If I keep this up there will be no inns left in Minrathous," he muttered to himself then gazed towards Laris, who cowered in a corner, shacking with fear.
"Please don't kill me. I had no idea you were a mage, I swear," the innkeeper pleaded, keeping his eyes downcast.
Damon didn't reply to the man and flounced out of the tavern. The task given to him by the magister was like a splinter in his mind. He wondered if it wasn't all just a hoax but then again, why would they risk letting him go? There had to be a catch. However, if there was any chance to complete the mission, he had to drop by the Circle's library, even though it was the last place after the garrison that he'd want to visit.
A few elves, dressed all in rags, roamed the streets and begged for coins. The scene made him to frown, thinking about the degrading state of the city. On the other hand, he held a deep disdain towards most of the magisters, seeing them as pompous and even dumb to some extent. Damon remembered how Kane laughed when he shared his opinion regarding the ruling mageocrats.
"It is true that most of them are simple minded people with simple needs and that is exactly why they can be so easily influenced. As long as you give them the illusion of power and make it seem real, they will obey any command."
The Circle was bustling with people of various ranks, from mageocrats and scholars to young apprentices, all busy with their everyday routine. Yet, the little solace he had hoped to find was replaced by a combination of weariness and apprehension. Several years had passed since his last visit and the mere fact of it made his heart feel somewhat older.
Damon rushed up the stairs leading towards the library. The chamber was exactly as he remembered it – large and imposing, with different sections structured on multiple levels while hundreds, maybe even thousands of tomes and old scrolls neatly arranged on the shelves. Slightly daunted, Damon began his research regarding the Hundred Pillars region, presumably the location referred to by the Seekers.
However, the hours went by and the investigation remained fruitless.
If I find one more passage mentioning the area only for its distinctive herbs and their usage, I swear I'm going to thrust the whole book down somebody's throat, he thought, closing the tome and tossing it aside.
Damon gazed outside the window as the setting sun was about to withdraw behind the hills, leaving behind a crimson sky. Time appeared to be even less patient that day. He took another book and flipped hastily through its pages. There was nothing significant, mainly some descriptions about the area's dreary scenery and weather. Disgruntled by apparently another lack of fortune, Damon got up to return the book when a folded note fell down. He picked it up and not little was his surprise to find a whole page, possibly ripped off from another tome.
…little known is that the caverns beneath the mountains once used to offer shelter to the elves, hiding from the Imperial armies, and later to other various groups. The granite pillars, which give the name to the location – Hundred Pillars - still remain much of mystery. Damon smiled and went on reading, clearly intrigued by the new piece of information. The columns vary from five to ten feet in height and even though some have fallen prey to decay, most are still in good shape. Their purposes, besides being purely ornamental, are unknown and will probably remain so as only elven lore could shed some light into this predicament. The text went on presenting speculations regarding the peculiar structures, some plausible while others utterly ridiculous. However, Damon noticed a few words scribbled down in the corner of the page. "Hallowed… deception", he murmured, puzzled by the words. He dwelled little on their meaning and thrust the note into his pocket, leaving the Circle with more questions than answers.
He was climbing down the stairs, when he heard his name being called. Surprised, Damon turned around, only to see magister Zaniel, the former first enchanter.
"For a moment there, I couldn't believe my eyes!" said the latter
"A pleasure to see you as well, first enchanter," Damon answered with cold courtesy.
The old man shook his head.
"Ah, sadly not anymore. Your master, magister Kane, has decided to replace me with someone more compliant to dance after his tune. Many of his… stewards have been invested with titles and leading posts. Quite odd that you haven't been appointed as magister yet. Last I remembered you were a more than capable mage."
"You may also recall that I do have neither the patience nor any sort of affliction towards politics."
"Yes, I guess many feel that way when they're young. It's a sentiment which hardly ever stays for long," Zaniel said with a feinted smile.
"I see you're still enjoying giving lectures about the great wisdoms of life."
"Well, we can't all spend our time searching for old gods and the glorious past. Some things should be left where they belong. It's something Kane will never understand."
"Completion. Something was started a long time ago and that same thing must be brought to an end, one way or the other."
"I'm having a hard time imagining how a bunch of deranged blood mages would manage to pull that off. Your order had its rights restored only because some of its disciples presumably helped against the templar armies and also at Kane's relentless behest. That does not change what it really is. But, alas, I could not change your mind all those years ago; I highly doubt I can influence you in any way now. Farewell and may you have health and luck in your journeys."
"Unfortunately, I cannot return such heart warming words because coming from me they would be nothing but lies. A simple goodbye must have to suffice."
Impervious to this derision, the old mage turned around and left. Damon rushed out of the building to avoid any other unpleasant meetings and headed to the docks area. Along with the evening, a chill and salty breeze settled in, auguring the usual mist which shrouded the harbour at night. A few elven slaves hurried to carry some cargo crates onboard the ship. The red standard embroiled with the shape of a golden sun loosened itself from the mast and got carried by the wind, ending up in a mud puddle on the street. Damon raised his gaze from the dirtied flag and stopped dead. Just a few metres away, he noticed Sayyid and two other mages from the garrison – Shill and Reuben, one of Silas's henchmen. Being noticed as well, Damon walked towards them feeling very apprehensive about their intentions.
"Oh, do not look so surprised! You couldn't have imagined that things will just follow their normal course. At least, not after what you've done," said the woman, with a strident voice. Her seemingly austere countenance was suited by the dark garments she wore.
"Where is Giles? And just what exactly are you lout doing here?" asked Damon, without bothering to hide his lack of enthusiasm.
"Magister Kane's orders," Sayyid explained. "We are to accompany you instead of Giles and your other associates."
"Is that so?"
"In case you might get a sudden urge to evade your responsibilities, we are more capable of getting your feet back on the ground… or bring your head back to the keep. Yes, that might work as well."
"Shill, your company is desired as much as that of a blade in the back. In fact, I would prefer the blade ten times more because it simply does not talk back."
"You poor, poor thing!" she said, bursting into laughter.
"If somehow you changed your mind about this task you can always return to the garrison and face the magister yourself," Reuben added.
He raised his head and glared at Damon from under his cowl. A nasty scar swept across his face and he grinned with malice.
"I, for one, would prefer you quitted and spared us of this tremendous waste of time," he continued on the same sardonic tone.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Ruby dear. Must be very hard for you to be separated from Silas in such a cruel manner! I mean, you are without doubt his right hand. Just imagine - what is he going to do now? Guess he'll probably have to start dating his other girlfriend."
"Jest, while you still have the chance," Reuben retorted while Shill chuckled at both of them.
Damon smirked at him to hide his resentment towards the fact that Reuben had indeed a point. If there had been some little chance of escaping before, it was all gone now. However, he could not help but wonder if there was any other reason for them to accompany him besides playing guard. After all, they were all of a higher rank than he was and it seemed highly unlikely for the magister to simply dispatch them to an apparently doomed mission.
They boarded up the ship for Vyrantium that night, the voyage proceeding without any significant events. Damon spent the next couple of days mostly alone, keeping his distance from the others.
"Behave yourself and try not to do anything foolish. This might turn out better than you're expecting," Sayyid told him once he got a chance to speak in private.
Damon looked at the swordsman distrustfully but didn't reply. It was wiser to act complacent at least for a while, until they got wary of keeping an eye on him. He favoured the idea of a waiting game and smiled to himself. At least two of them would be easier to deceive. On the other hand, Sayyid would continue to pose a problem; not even once did he let his guard down.
Tricky, but not altogether impossible, Damon thought, watching the waves pounding against the steep, rocky coastline.
After Vyrantium, everything continued on the same note. Hardly speaking a word and keeping to himself, Damon avoided hassling with the others as much as it was possible. The endless row of shapeless peaks, bearing a sullen brown hue, began to rise sharply in the distance – dark silhouettes of a grim augury.
A maze of jagged, ebony rocks and pinnacles was what the barren landscape of The Hundred Pillars comprised. Ever so often, the paths would be concealed by an opalescent fog which loomed down heavily on the unwary traveller, sending chills to the bones while the wind hummed a dreary litany.
"As far as I can see… well… no, in fact, far would not accurately describe the extent of my sight," said Damon, leaning over the brink of the cliff whose feet lay hidden by an endless row of drifting clouds. "I guess we should retrace our paces back a little and look for another way to climb down."
"Doesn't anyone feel like we've been here before…?" Shill asked with a tremor in her voice. She gazed around frantically, trying to find evidence hinting the otherwise.
The third day spent on the stony ridge of the mountains was slowly coming to an end, void of any triumphs as well as the ones before.
"It's difficult to tell when everything looks the same," said Sayyid.
"We shouldn't be lost. Let me just check the map again."
"Well, good thing we have a map which is utterly pointless 'cause otherwise I would definitely start to worry," said Damon, his patience slipping away.
"This task is ridiculous. Why not simply turn back? Only Damon's head is at stake here and frankly I find myself not giving a rat's furry arse."
"What a brilliant idea, Reuben! Oh, wait. I think I'm getting one too! How about… we threw you into that chasm to test how far it goes?"
"Humph, mages… always bickering like a bunch of old fishwives," Sayyid muttered, folding his hands. "Listen you two! I'm the one who's in charge so we do as I say. There are still enough supplies left for a couple of days so I'd suggest you got past any sore attitudes. Now then, I believe I saw another way to climb down not very far from here. Slightly narrow path but I guess it will have to do. Come," he said, motioning for the others to follow.
Scattered from place to place, there stood tall pillars stretching towards the leaden skies. Coppery brown in colour and with their bases hidden away in stone, they looked as if they had grown out from the earth.
After wandering about for an hour or so, they've finally managed to get on the right trail. With an ominous precipice to the right, the progress was utterly hindered yet they managed to climb down to a lower terrace before evening.
"This should be it, the location of the mines," Shill said with enthusiasm and ran ahead. "Yes, there's the track gauge for the carts and the entrance… oh blast it!"
As the fog lifted, revealing the entrance, Damon and the others were soon faced with another impediment since a cave in had blocked the path.
"There must be another way to enter," said Sayyid.
A deep narrow shaft into the ground laid just a few metres away. The swordsman put down his knapsack and took out a coil of rope, then made it fast to one of the nearby pillars.
"It looks a bit tight and needless to say dark," said Damon, peering into the ghastly chasm.
"How very observant of you! By all means, such great skill should not go unrewarded. This is why I would suggest you going first into the depths," Shill answered while Sayyid grinned in approval.
Damon frowned and grabbed the rope, tying it around his waste.
"And yet again, I am the only one here with a spark of courage!" he grumbled, taking another look into the chasm.
Sayyid lowered him steadily down the shaft. "You're at the end of the rope!" he shouted after a few minutes. "Do you see the bottom already?"
"No! But it can't be that far! A few feet at most!" Damon answered. He gazed down, disheartened by the surrounding blackness. "I'm going to dive in from here!"
Sayyid felt the rope loosening and shortly after there was a loud thud.
"Are you still in one piece down there?" asked the swordsman.
"I think he said yes. Anyhow, I'm going next," said Shill.
A few rays of light barely scratched the otherwise impenetrable darkness. Damon pressed himself against the stone wall, waiting for the others to climb down as well.
"It remains a complete mystery to me how dwarves enjoy this kind of living, dozens of metres underground. I for one feel like being in a tomb," he said, once they were all down. "Stuffed air, this gloomy obscurity, mushrooms everywhere, also the occasional darkspawn – why would anyone fancy such things?"
Sayyid lit up a torch, which spread a vivid glow throughout the narrow passage. A disquieting silence reigned over the place, only to be seldom interrupted by the ghastly wind above. At least, the cavern provided shelter from the cold. They set out on their way again, following the winding tunnel, which descended steeply a few times before becoming level once more. The swordsman leaded the group as before, followed closely by Shill, while Damon and Reuben came slightly behind. Despite the weariness began to catch up with them, they were not ready to halt the journey quite yet. The idea of resting in that place didn't bring any comfort.
"You mentioned that there have been others to explore these tunnels. Might I ask what became of them?" Damon uttered towards Shill.
"They were six when they set out but only one managed to return. Surely, you must have seen him. Creepy Creighley? The guy with an odd fetish for insects? He claims to have survived a week just by eating the gruesome bugs and crawlers that inhabit this place," she answered.
"Interesting. I had always wondered how the garrison was so free of vermin. If only there was a way to convince him of eating the rats as well. So what exactly did they find down here?"
"An old dwarven thaig," said the woman after a short pause. "Or at least what appeared to be a dwarven thaig. Guess we'll see for ourselves when we get there."
Damon nodded. He then noticed that the passageway had grown wider and taller. A warm air gently swept across their faces as flaming braziers scattered the darkness away. They were no longer in the mines.
"The Deep Roads… so the crazy bastard was telling the truth," said Sayyid, gazing at the huge and empty halls.
The walls still retained intricate dwarven runes while towering columns and arches made any trespasser feel small and humble. Despite the immensity of the place, the layers of rock stretching above caused an even greater sense of tension. The ceiling remained engulfed in obscurity, making it appear as if the shadows themselves kept a close watch over them. They continued to press on regardless, without any of them speaking a word. The first change of scenery occurred only hours after, when the path split into two ways – one seemingly continuing as before while the other leading to a sloping staircase.
"Creighley mentioned something about climbing up some stairs," said Shill. "We must be getting closer."
Their ascension was slow due to the slippery and narrow steps, which had been worn down by time. The staircase would also seem to end abruptly but instead veered to the left as in a spiral. A dark and menacing gap soon formed behind them and one moment of inattention or a wrongly placed step was all it required. After much struggle, they climbed the last stair, reaching a high terrace. The path continued through another tunnel, which opened to a great stone bridge strongly anchored by huge chains. The gates of the dwarven thaig lay just across.
"This had better be as sturdy as any dwarven construction," said Damon, gazing down at the fiery chasm of molten lava.
The underground city had been well preserved through the ages and even seemed to be inviting to some extent. Braziers burned with cheerful flames while the general atmosphere was warm and pleasant. The architecture, although solid like any dwarven structure or craft, had a unique touch, which set it apart from the usual masonry used by the dwarves. Instead, it resembled something else entirely. Carefully engraved into the stone were large murals depicting vistas of scenic beauty. Numerous other symbols, some of which Shill recognised as being elven, adorned the walls.
Another peculiar aspect was the multitude of lyrium veins, scattered all around the place. An eerie bluish luminescence surrounded them, glowing vividly in the dark corners.
In the middle of this outlandish dwelling was a large courtyard paved with coloured bricks and right at its centre there was a small pool of crystal clear water. A few rays of moonlight slipped through the small fissures in the ceiling and gently touched the surface of the water, giving it a most ineffable appearance.
Damon peered into the mirror looking pool and kneeled down to touch the surface of the water, which started to radiate with silvery glimmers, like hundreds of tiny, little stars. As the ripples receded and the pool became still again, Damon realised, much to his dismay, that his own figure had been replaced with a ghastly spectre which stared right back at him. The thing had no eyes and yet two glowing points, surrounded by an empty blackness seemed fastened on him. A strange numbness was slowly taking over him and he couldn't shift his gaze away from the wraith. Damon felt his thoughts and memories being read like an open book by the ghostly entity. His head throbbed with pain and he strained to move away but it was all in vain. Not even blinking was possible, as the spectre held him firmly under its control. He mustered all his strength once more and made another attempt to break loose. The wraith grinned and just then, Damon fell on his back with a sudden cry, making the others to turn around.
"Huh, got scared by your own reflection? I cannot blame you since, truth be told, you do look terrible," said Shill while the others burst into laughter.
"Something's not right with this place… Oh, you'll all soon be laughing on the other side of your faces," Damon uttered. "Hasn't anyone noticed how friendly everything seems to be?"
"So you would have darkspawn and giant spiders and other beasts ambush us? I think I'm quite fine with whatever this is," said Reuben.
"I for one prefer to know what manner of foe I'm facing. By the gods, why is it all so… empty?"
"I've been wondering the same thing," Sayyid answered. "We'd best be careful."
At the end of the cavern stood a white marble temple, by far the most graceful structure that the city comprised. Two odd-looking statues, with their faces covered in their palms, were placed by the entrance. They climbed the stairs and entered the temple, not without a growing feeling of restlessness. There wasn't much to be found inside except a few clay vessels scattered about. Near the shrine, however, the earthly remains of what once was a person laid covered in dust on the ground.
"This is never a good sign... Is that a book right next to it?" asked Damon.
A few pages fell down when Shill picked up the old tome.
"Looks like some kind of a journal," she said. The writings have ebbed away, making whole parts completely unreadable. "1185 TE, we've entered the Deep Roads in hope that they will put an end to their pursuit. They claim of doing the Maker's work but it has all gone too far. No, Hiram is right. This secret should forever remain buried. The consequences could be far more disastrous than a blight and this is something that neither the seekers nor the other grey wardens would ever understand…"
"Pfft, grey wardens now? It takes all the kinds," Reuben commented.
Shill turned a few pages and resumed her reading.
"Yesterday we've come across a most strange city. It does not seem to have been built by the dwarves yet its structures look solid and well build. Another staggering thing is that we haven't found any sort of inhabitants – not even the usual darkspawn who plague the whole Deep Roads. I wonder if this is indeed a good omen. Whatever the case, no one can deny its beauty…"
"This much we've gathered as well. But I sense it wasn't old age which got him in the end," said Damon.
"We shouldn't have come here. This place is alive… now it won't let us leave. Something lurks into the shadows. It took four of our men… They've disappeared into the thin air but we can still hear their screams… Hiram and Napier have found a hidden passageway under the shrine. It's been six hours and they have still not returned. I dread to think of what came of their fates… How long has it been? Days, weeks maybe? I cannot say. The temple has proven to be safe for now and the wards I've summoned keep out whatever it is out there. The whole beauty of this place has gained such a cruel aspect. I fear to enter the passage my friends chose to follow, but I have little choice… An ominous humming can be heard from down there… There is something here with me, crawling into my mind, I cannot escape it…Maker, help me!"
Damon shivered as a sudden feeling of dread began to creep over him. The last words, taken out of the whole, described vividly his incident with the wraith from the mirror-looking pool. He decided not to mention anything about the horrible figure he had seen. But the mere thought of being possessed returned to him over and over again. The thing must have been indeed a demon; he knew that, even though he shunned away the possibility. Could he be already possessed, without realising it?
I must calm down, he said to himself, trying to hide away his fear.
Shill raised her head and gazed at the others with a grave look.
"The rest seems covered in blood."
"Oh, marvellous! Did Creighley tell you nothing of… this!?" Reuben shouted.
"That guy is a complete lunatic! It was dumb luck that I got anything from him at all."
"Well, he's going to be a dead lunatic when we turn back. Wait 'till Silas hears of this. He's going to have him cut into pieces!"
"Get a grip on yourself, Reuben!" said Sayyid. "You do not improve anything by fretting about the whole situation."
"You want me to calm down? Just simply, calm down!? I'm getting out here!" he shouted and stormed out of the temple.
"Reuben, come back this instant!"
"I will not risk getting killed over an idiotic quest and a sorry excuse for a mage," he rasped, heading towards the gates. "We should have never come here-"
Without finishing his sentence, Reuben was hurled a few metres back by what seemed a wide, invisible barrier which now blocked the way out. For a few moments, glimmers of light swirled around the place the mage had hit the invisible wall.
"Did anyone else notice that? It felt like a quake," said Damon.
"The Veil seems to have weakened. Reuben, move away from the barrier!" Shill yelled.
"By Dumat! We are trapped in here like rats!" Reuben moaned.
"Let's head back to the temple. At least we know it's safe there," said the swordsman.
"How can it be safe? That grey warden died as well, did he not?"
"Quit your whining and move!" Sayyid retorted in a thundering voice.
The mage obeyed the order without any further comments and they all ran back to the temple. Once inside, the swordsman walked towards the shrine, searching for the possible passageway mentioned in the journal.
"Are you still shaking, Ruby dear? Perhaps you should lie down for a while. If you feel the need to cry then go ahead and cry. I'm not going to laugh, I promise," Damon said with derision and chuckled.
"This is all your fault! You screwed everything up and now we're all going to die!"
"You're nothing more than a pathetic coward."
Reuben's face grew livid with rage and lashed out at Damon, punching him one in the face. Dazed by the sudden blow, the latter staggered back a little, blood dripping from his nose. Shill began laughing hysterically at the scene and clapped her hands with enthusiasm.
"Big mistake, Reuben," he grunted, taking out a dagger, but was immediately stopped by Sayyid who grabbed his arm firmly.
"The situation is already precarious as it is without you two idiots killing each other," the swordsman shouted.
Damon felt the anger seething down inside of him yet he restrained himself. It wasn't the right time for a confrontation.
The narrow passage beneath the shrine wound steadily downwards for a mile or so then went straight again. A chill darkness engulfed them, making the torches needed once again. They continued to march as before, upon arriving at a long staircase leading towards another part of the tenebrous depths. The swordsman halted the others and raised his torch, attempting to make out something in the swirling blackness which lay before him.
"It's a trap. Look!" he said, pointing to the pile of skeletons at the bottom of the stairs. "If only we could figure out what it is…"
"Great! Things just continue to get better and better," Shill said, disconcerted by the new setback.
"It would be easier if we knew what killed these poor sods. I could speculate, of course, but there must be a way to know for sure," Sayyid answered in a grave tone.
"An explosion, perhaps? Old dwarven thaigs have that sort of defence mechanisms, or so I've heard."
"But this is not an ordinary dwarven thaig now, is it?"
Damon sighed as Shill and the swordsman began arguing with each other over the ways to tackle the predicament. All that clamour was giving him a headache, especially since there was only one sure manner to learn more about the trap. He shifted his gaze towards Reuben, who peered at the skeletons with both fear and disgust. The mage seemed absorbed by his thoughts, thing which made Damon grin with pleasure. He looked back again at the others but they were too preoccupied with their conversation to notice anything else.
"Well, this isn't going anywhere," Damon said in a loud voice.
Seeing how everyone was still ignoring him, he laughed to himself about such a rare opportunity and shoved Reuben, who tripped and rolled halfway down the stairs.
Shill gasped in shock and covered her mouth in her palms.
"You are going to pay dearly for that," Reuben muttered as he got up from the ground.
"Do not move! Stay right where you are!" Sayyid shouted at him pointlessly, since Reuben was too blinded by rage and started climbing up the stairs.
A rickety sound followed closely by grinding noise made the mage stop dead in his run and gaze back in horror. Just then, a sharp blade came out of the wall and before anyone could realize, it swiftly severed his head. A fountain of blood sprang out while the body collapsed, twisting spasmodically. Gradually, its convulsions came to an end.
"Well… there were no explosions," said Damon with nonchalance.
"You killed him," Shill uttered and turned a vexed stare at him.
"I'm afraid I do not understand your anguish, my dearest. That bastard had it coming for a long time. No? Not reasonable enough for you? Maybe this will work," he said, faking a cough then continued, "He died a hero's death so we could all be safe. May the Maker rest his soul… wait, we don't believe in that crap. Oh Dumat, please hear my most humble plea and may you accept Reuben's soul to lay by your side… I'll take this silence as an answer that you have heard my prayers," Damon shouted bursting into laughter.
The wall blade remained stuck above the ground, still dripping with the mage's blood.
"This is somewhat disturbing," Sayyid said, frowning, then went to examine the contraption more closely. "If the trap can only be triggered once then there must another mechanism which resets it."
"Why is that important?" Shill asked after regaining her calm.
"Because someone must have reactivated these traps – which means that we are not alone. Wait here a moment until I make sure the path is perfectly safe."
Damon continued to smile broadly, visibly undaunted by the swordsman's words.
"One foolish thing after another. A wiser person would tread lightly, considering the mess you've been causing lately, but you just do not know when to quit," Shill said, slightly irritated by his demeanour.
"I believe the word you are looking for is amazing."
"Ugh, there is one amazing thing about you and that, I'm afraid, is your stupidity. The only way you could get off scot-free out of this would be if you killed Sayyid… and me as well…"
The sudden realization filled her with chagrin and she gazed back at Damon to confirm her suspicions.
He seems baffled by what I've said. Perhaps this was all about getting back at Reuben and nothing more, Shill thought.
"You wouldn't kill me, right?" she said in a sleek tone and moved towards him, reaching out and caressing his cheek. The touch of her cold hand sent shivers down his spine and their eyes locked for a moment.
"You have quite the sense of humor, my dear," he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I could never harm you."
"Everything appears to be alright so I would suggest we kept going on," Sayyid uttered with a stern face.
"Don't have to say that twice," Shill said, going ahead and carefully avoiding the pool of blood which formed around Reuben's body. She glanced at it with disgust then quickly looked away.
"I want you to walk in front of me where I can see you," Sayyid whispered to Damon, who returned a puzzled stare. "Try pulling another prank like the one you did with Reuben and you will be one head shorter as well. Have I made myself clear?"
"Sayyid, you have nothing to-"
The swordsman shoved Damon into the wall, glaring malevolently.
"Do not take me for a fool," he rasped. "Now do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal clear."
He let Damon go, his eyes still glinting with suspicion.
I will not spare him again, Sayyid said to himself as they ventured on through the dark passageway.
