Well of Souls
Nothing remains constant.
From the Harvester's JournalImhotep was escorted to the Akethros' throne room, where the guards shoved him to the ground in front of the hell-god. The foul, boar-headed god gazed at him with a twisted smile on his rotting face. Imhotep shivered. Nothing good ever came of these confrontations.
"Your god has abandoned you little priest. The children of the Nile turn away from your name." Akethros whispered. Imhotep did not reply. He knew better.
"All for the sake of a woman who betrayed you, ran from you when you needed her most." The god laughed delightedly. "Pity. Such a pity."
Imhotep closed his eyes, the memory of that still running in his mind. He calling out for Ack-su-namun's aid, her running away and Nefertiri rushing to save his enemy's life.
"There is a place for you in my service Imhotep; you need not suffer needlessly." Akethros finished.
Imhotep raised his head and winced as a guard shoved the butt of his spear into his neck in warning. "No. Never," he replied quietly. "I will never serve you."
Akethros got up and brutally kicked the fallen priest. Imhotep cried out in pain as the god kicked him again. He felt bones crack with each blow.
The hell god stood over him, fuming. "I have lost patience with you priest." He looked down at him as he toed the man over onto his back. Imhotep closed his eyes, waiting for more punishment.
"Since you will not serve me, you will spend the rest of eternity in the Well of Souls." Akethros told him viciously.
Imhotep's eyes snapped open. "No," he whispered.
The Well of Souls was at the heart of Akethros' dungeon. All of the anger, despair and hate centered around that place. It was something like a sinkhole of negative energy. Those who were caught in that trap were subject to phantasms, illusions and hallucinations so real; they could literally kill.
Akethros knelt down. "Oh yes, my slave. You should have accepted my offer. Now it is too late. No one can or will help you now." He stood up and motioned to the guards who stood at a safe distance. "Take him," he ordered. The guards obeyed.
***
"Now where do we go?" Ardeth asked as the stopped. They had followed the tunnel through several twists and turns, carefully marking their way with little runes carved into the wall of the tunnel itself. Yet now, before them the tunnel branched off into three different directions. Every instinct told Ardeth to head back, to get the hell out of this place. It was cursed, evil.
Soralis looked at him sideways. She could hear the tension in his voice, could feel the apprehension and sense his thoughts clearly. "Relax, they aren't expecting us," she replied.
She could feel the tug deep within her soul grow stronger. It howled in her mind. She let the compulsion drive her forward, into the third tunnel. Ardeth trailed after her, keeping a worried eye on her and on their back-trail.
***
The passage became wider, the walls sporting hieroglyphics and unpleasant carvings as they progressed deeper into the fortress.
Ardeth frowned as he read the hieroglyphs. Most detailed Akethros' history and his victories.
He stopped at a particular cartouche depicting strange priests surrounding a slab of cut marble. On it was a woman, with black hair streaked with silver. She was bound hand and foot, with the high priest at her side.
The scene progressed, ending with the priest completely disemboweling her. He winced. The woman in the picture reminded him strongly of Soralis. He turned to her to comment.
Her eyes were distant as she stared at cartouche and her expression was strained and angry. "Qysethitol," she whispered. "God of new moon," she blinked and looked at Ardeth.
"You?" he asked as he pointed to the woman in the cartouche.
"Yes," she replied shortly. "Those were Aztec priests who overran my village and sacrificed my adopted tribe to their gods." She turned and began walking away from the hieroglyphs.
"I'm sorry," he said as he walked by her side.
"I died, they killed me, or so they thought." She told him softly. "A year later I arose from the mass grave they had dug for the victims."
She looked at him. "I tracked the priests for four years before I killed them all."
He gripped her wrist with his free hand. "I would have done the same Soralis, any one would have." He replied. "If I could survive being disemboweled that is,"
***
Imhotep was shoved into the filthy cell and he whirled around, only to see his only means of escape slammed shut in his face. One of the guards laughed mirthlessly through the small barred window.
"Soon the spirits will claim you for their pleasure priest. You should have made the bargain." The guard laughed again as he walked away.
Imhotep turned around, seeing only bare stone walls. He looked up and saw an empty space where a ceiling should be. He blinked; no it was not empty. A foul darkness filled the space, threatening to engulf the small cell.
His only shield against it was the faint, flickering light that lit the corridor outside his cell. He shivered as he saw the darkness above him boil and twisted dark fingers inch down the walls, engulfing the stone and the floor beneath him.
"NO!" he screamed, falling to his knees as the hallucinations began.
***
Ardeth shoved the guard he had collared against the wall of the passage, while Soralis finished off his companion. "Where is he?" Ardeth hissed.
The guard's laugh was choked off by the knife pressed to his throat. "Where?!" Ardeth repeated.
"You shall die mortal," the guard hissed.
Soralis peered over Ardeth's shoulder. Her eyes were glowing with a bright white light in response to her agitation. "Tell us, where is Imhotep?" she asked softly.
The guard blanched as he saw her. "Isisethren," he murmured.
"Tell us now or you will be the one to die." She replied calmly. Ardeth looked at her in confusion.
"The Well of Souls. He was sentenced to the Well," the guard gasped out and kneed Ardeth in the groin.
Ardeth went to one knee, eyes filling with tears and he lost his hold on his knife. The guard brushed past the Medjai, reaching for Soralis. He looked at her in surprised shock and fell against the wall, clutching his stomach. Soralis' face was unreadable as the claws extending from her knuckles slowly withdrew. The guard was dead before he hit the ground.
Ardeth looked at her in respect as she helped him to his feet. "Neat trick," he commented as they ran down the corridor. "You know where we're going, right?" he asked.
"The Well Of Souls is always located in the center of the dungeons. Hell gods and demons create them deliberately. Really old prisons and castles have them as well, only they're more or less created by accident." She explained as they made their way to the center of the dungeon complex.
"What are they exactly? I've only heard tales about great evil residing in them." He replied as they ducked into a side corridor to avoid a troop of guards.
"Essentially, they're small sink holes of concentrated negative energy. The energy feeds off the memories and feelings of its victims, making them seem real. Some wells can actually kill their victims, imprisoning their souls forever within its darkness. The older the well, the more powerful it is." She hissed as the final guard passed by. They waited until they could no longer hear those guards before moving on.
The compulsion, or whatever it was that had lead her to this place, continued, leading them deeper within the fortress, down side passages and into long galleries filled with more carved scenes that grated on the senses. It finally led them into a small tunnel lined with flickering torches. At the end was a metal door with a small barred window.
They looked into the window, seeing only boiling darkness. Typical. Imhotep is lost somewhere within that stuff. She thought as she withdrew a long silvery rope from the robes the Medjai had provided her.
"What is that?" Ardeth asked as he pointed at the rope.
"Spider silk and elfin mithral. It's very strong, flexible and has magical properties, " she replied absently as she twined it around her waist. She then handed the end of it to Ardeth who looked at her doubtfully.
"I should go with you," he told her. She shook her head.
"No Ardeth. I need you here. You've never experienced the hallucinations these wells can inflict. I have. To the unwary, they can kill." She smiled wryly. "I'll tug on the rope three times when I find Imhotep. You'll have to pull us both out because neither of us will be in much condition to get out on our own."
He touched her cheek. "Be careful," he said.
"Always," she replied and opened the door. He gripped the rope with both hands.
