By some grace of the gods, the travelers managed to press through the remainder of the sewers without any other interference. At the end of the winding paths, a large room could be found, its door shut tightly. Unlike everything else made of stone within the sewers, the door was ragged and wooden, weakened by its time out of the care of others. Cyrus was certain that whoever they were searching for-the one behind the kidnappings and the leader of the dark mages they had seen throughout the tunnels-was on the other side of this door. He had no idea what he was going to find specifically, but now wasn't the time for doubts. They had to push onwards.
Cyrus pushed the door open slowly, a frown on his face. He imagined there were going to be at least a few dark mages waiting for him inside the room, so he readied his other hand in case he needed to release a quick spell, but in the end, his concerns were unfounded. The room was dark, but there were no shifts in the shadows to indicate anything resembling movement. The only light source rested at the center of the room, a single glowing stone of bright red. Cyrus reached into his pocket and pulled out the crimson gem he had found earlier, staring at it in muted curiosity. Could they be related? His hadn't glowed this way, but the colors were too similar for it to be a coincidence.
Before Cyrus had the chance to question this, a thumping sound thundered through the room. Tressa squealed before throwing her arms around Primrose from anxiety. Cyrus nearly jumped out of his own skin before whirling to face the source of the sound. The noise had come from near the wall, though Cyrus had no idea what could have fallen.
Some small part of him wished he never found out.
It was a man, his brown hair dirtied from what appeared to be quite some time without any proper care. He was completely motionless, his eyes closed as he faced the ceiling overhead. Cyrus reached for the man's neck carefully, searching for any signs of a pulse, but he was met with nothing. The other travelers had clustered in around him, curiosity and worry written all over their faces. Even in the darkness, Cyrus could see that much from the limited light offered by the lanthorn.
"He's dead," Cyrus told them softly. He rose to his feet before looking up at the wall nearby. There were three wooden plates attached firmly to the stone, each of them bearing shackles of steel to keep their hostages suspended in the air. The man had been attached to the center plate of the three, but he had collapsed when the shackles decided they could no longer hold his dead weight. A single torch rested at the center of the wall, but it had been extinguished since nobody was using the room at the moment. In between the plates, small containers could be seen, and when Cyrus crouched down beside them, he realized they were filled with soulstones just like the chest he and the others had found earlier on. When he grabbed for them, he realized they had been completely drained of energy, as if all of their magical power had been used to charge something else recently instead.
Cyrus returned to the man's side a few moments later, examining him a bit closer. He was incredibly pale, startlingly so, and when Cyrus lifted the body's arm, he found that the limb was much lighter than it had any right to be. "It's as if the blood was drained from his body," he murmured. He turned his attention back to the center of the room, watching the red stone that rested on the floor there. Beneath the crystal, sigils came into view. They were carved into the ground with rusted scarlet, all of them precise and terrifying. It was far from being like anything he had ever seen.
"What could those marks mean?" Alfyn questioned, trying to hide the way his voice shook and ultimately falling short. "I don't know what they did to that man, but it doesn't seem like he was here for good reasons."
Cyrus frowned before letting one hand come up to his chin. "Clearly, some baleful sorcery has been performed here," he whispered. He turned his attention off to another corner of the room, and he realized a small candle was lit atop a desk. He approached it, finding even more of the small red stones on top of the wood. He picked them up, examining each facet as carefully as he could, before his eyes went wide. "If my hypothesis is correct, these gemstones..."
"You can't possibly mean..." Ophilia began, her eyes wide with horror. "But they couldn't be..."
"They must be composed of crystallized human blood!" Cyrus proclaimed, unable to hold back his own ghastly shock. "The expired soulstones were no doubt drained of their energy to feed these gems. A procedure like that would involve massive amounts of magic, and nobody could execute such a ritual without other energy reserves to fall back on..."
"Then the soulstones we grabbed earlier were their backups," Therion realized. "In other words, they've been gathering as many soulstones as possible to get ready to make even more of these. That's the reason all these people have been brought here."
"What do you-" Cyrus began before looking in the direction Therion had cast his eyes. His eyes went wide immediately as he realized the man from the wall was not the only one there with them. There were a few others, all of them unconscious, on the other side of a door made of metal bars. All of the hostages were there, though it was impossible to say for sure if they were alive or not from this distance.
"We need to try and get them out!" Tressa announced as she started towards the door. She rattled at the bars, but they refused to budge. She turned to Therion a moment later, her eyes wide with concern. "You know how to open locks, right? Try to get them out of there!"
"Quiet down," Therion hissed. "There are bound to be more of those mages around here, and we don't want to just ask them to rush here to try and kill us by being too loud."
Cyrus continued to examine the stones on the desk, and he realized in the candlelight that each stone seemed to have a few different hues of scarlet and crimson blended together. The changes were slight, but the crystallized format of the relic made it clearer to the naked eye. What could have caused the change in color? Aside from... "These stones... Could they have been made from the blood of multiple victims?" he murmured as he glanced back to the cell in the corner of the room. Perhaps those who had already been killed had been thrown into the cell once the mages were done with them. For there to be so many different stones-at least eight scattered throughout the room-there must have been more victims than the single man dead against the wall.
Cyrus' hands were shaking by now from a combination of rage and horror, and all he could do was stare down at the bloodied stone that acted as the final remnant of so many victims. "Good gods, what horrors have been wrought here?!" he whispered. "How many innocents have been murdered by this blood-sucking sorcerer?!" The motive behind the kidnappings was perfectly clear now at the very least, though that seemed like a hollow victory in comparison to how much the innocent victims had suffered. Cyrus had been right when he believed this was necromancy, and his stomach twisted with terror at the mere concept of every other atrocity this unknown villain could have committed. He didn't think he could even consider the one responsible for this human after all they had done.
While Tressa and Therion rattled away at the cell door in the corner of the room, Ophilia took to reading the small notebook open on the desk. She held up the lanthorn a bit closer to get a better look before she glanced up to the rest of the group. "Gideon," she declared, and Alfyn tilted his head in confusion. "The one responsible for all of this appears to be named Gideon. That's the name printed in this notebook, at the very least."
"This monster must be stopped before he can commit any more vile deeds," Cyrus declared. He reached for the Tome of Tundras once more, allowing the book's weight to fill his fingertips. The instant he saw this Gideon character, there would be no holding back. That ship had sailed the instant Cyrus and the other travelers found themselves in the depths of this disaster.
Cyrus crouched down to examine the sigils on the floor once more, brushing his fingers across the surface of the stone gently. He had always been intrigued by the dark arts, at least in the loosest of terms. He wanted to understand why some types of magic worked the way they did, but this was far beyond what he could have ever imagined. It was disgusting, and putting such practices of necromancy into action was enough to earn this Gideon man all the scorn Cyrus possessed. He couldn't say for sure if it was a coincidence that both Gideon and From the Far Reaches of Hell seemed to examine the same subjects, but he was certain Gideon had to be stopped as soon as possible.
A clipped groan pulled Cyrus from his thoughts, and he rushed back to the cell door where Therion and Tressa were still working away at the lock. The sound had come from neither the thief or the merchant though, and when Cyrus looked a bit closer into the darkness, he realized that the one responsible for the noise was a young girl collapsed on the floor near the entrance to the cell. She was slowly pushing her eyes open, though she didn't seem to have the energy to move otherwise.
"Gods above, she's alive!" Alfyn yelped in shock. "As soon as we get the door open, Phili and I can try to heal her. I'm amazed anyone was able to survive somethin' like this, but we need to intervene before it can get any worse."
Cyrus nodded his agreement, and Therion continued to work with the lock as much as he possibly could. He let out an irritated huff, but a moment later, the lock finally caved in. Tressa gasped before pushing the door open, the hinges creaking all the while. Sure enough, Therion's lock picking work had ended the way she had hoped. Tressa rushed inside eagerly, desperate to be met with any other signs of survivors, and she let out a small sigh of relief at the revelation that they weren't in the same condition as the man from before. It was difficult to say if they were alive or not, but they were doing better than the man who had already been sucked of all his blood. The only one who showed blatant signs of life was the young girl who sat near the door, though she still didn't have the energy to move. All she could do was blankly stare up at the ceiling, barely seeming to notice that Therion and Tressa had managed to worm the door open.
"And who might you be?"
The unfamiliar voice cut through the silence like a stab to the chest, and all of the travelers whirled around to see that the door to the small room had opened. The man who stood there was such a ghastly pale color that his skin almost seemed gray, and his eyes stuck out as darkness among the hollow shell that his face seemed to be. His robes were a bit more elaborate than what the other mages before him had worn. The outer layer was pitch black and lined with elaborate and ancient golden trim. The undermost layer of his robes was a white color, though much of the shade's purity had been sucked out by the time he had spent beneath the surface. A staff was pressed into his fingers, the sharpened tip seeming to drip with blood.
Everyone knew exactly who he was without needing to ask. He was the mastermind behind all of this, the one responsible for the horrors they had witnessed.
Cyrus stepped forward to answer Gideon's question, not bracing himself for combat quite yet as he assessed the situation to the best of his ability. For all he knew, Gideon could have had at least a few other allies at the ready, all prepared out and strike the instant they realized they were under attack. Observation would provide him with the best strategy, so he replied as casually as he could to Gideon's inquiry. "Just a scholar of no particular repute," he said, though his heat was screaming in his chest all the while. He already knew a fight was coming, and the air seemed to tingle with anticipation.
"I was passing through and could not help but notice these odd gemstones," Cyrus continued as he gestured to the blood red stones that lined both the floor and the desk in the corner. "Are they perhaps your work?" Cyrus took another glance down at the sigils lining the floor, trying to seem as casual as possible. "And these strange glyphs... Are they not runes of High Hornburgian?" He hadn't noticed it until he looked down at the apex of his adrenaline, but he knew they had to come from Hornburg's ancient languages. In times long gone, the fallen civilization was known for its incredibly powerful dark magic and masters of that power, though the arcane users of the shadows had since fallen by the wayside as the tides of history turned. Perhaps the art wasn't as lost as Cyrus initially suspected though, judging by the fact that he was faced with a user of it then and there.
"Are they now?" Gideon questioned, adjusting the staff in his hand ever so slightly. It was a silent threat, but he was waiting patiently to see if the other people in the room would pick up on it. Each of the travelers froze accordingly, all waiting to see just what move he would make next.
Cyrus nodded his confirmation. "The tomes of ancient Hornburg were lost long ago. No ordinary scholar would be privy to this knowledge," he explained. "Even less likely is someone who would be able to carry out the rituals of Hornburg's history..." He narrowed his eyes at Gideon when he noticed the other man readying his staff, the air around him tingling with the promise of magic. A fight was unavoidable, and all of them knew it. Cyrus narrowed his eyes, casting aside all thoughts of observation for the time being. Gideon appeared to be alone, and as long as that was the case, he and the other travelers could surge forward and attack him with everything they had once the cue was given. "But how could any self-respecting academic perform such horrors?"
Gideon chuckled at that, twirling his staff over in his hand. A single drop of blood dripped to the floor, echoing mercilessly and endlessly in the silence. "Seems you're more of a scholar than you give yourself credit for," he told Cyrus, his voice gravelly and deep. He sunk into a combative stance at that, practically challenging Cyrus to rush towards him with everything he had. "Though it seems you're not smart enough to back away when you're in danger."
Cyrus gave one more glance over his shoulder to the people locked away in the cell at the corner of the room. "They still live, yes?" he questioned carefully. The other travelers were starting to slip into their own defensive formations, ready to give a potential battle everything they had. "If you know what's good for you, you'll free them at once."
"Well, since you asked so nicely... No, I think not," Gideon said simply. He let out a small sigh as he twirled his staff between his fingers once again. "A shame. If only you hadn't come poking around in my secrets, I wouldn't mind picking your brain." He pointed the staff at Cyrus as his eyes went wide with a wild type of rage. "Now I'll just have to settle for sucking your blood!"
Cyrus ducked down just in time to dodge a slash from Gideon's sharpened staff, and he lashed out with a quick blast of ice magic. Gideon twirled his staff to block the strikes before he concentrated his energy to the ground at his feet. The stones below seemed to shift ever so slightly before the magic manifested as a series of bones that pried themselves free of the ground. Cyrus frowned as he realized they were the same skeleton creatures he and the others had fought previously, though these seemed to be a bit more refined on account of being summoned by the leader of the dark casters.
Gideon flicked his staff forward, and one of the skeletons launched itself towards the travelers. Tressa hit it with a blast of wind magic, but the bones held fast this time around, refusing to fall apart so easily. She growled in irritation before stabbing at the core of the creature. The skeleton didn't seem to care in the slightest, still maintaining its posture despite the damage it had sustained. It lunged towards Tressa to try and slash at her with a crudely made hand, but she jumped out of the way just in time.
Olberic brandished his sword before he struck at the skeleton from overhead, slamming the beast down to the ground. The skeleton let out a screeching sound at that, though Cyrus would hardly call the noise normal by any stretch of the imagination. It didn't sound at all like what he would have expected from a monster, human, or animal, instead simply being a noisy whistle that pierced the air relentlessly. Still, that sound had come with the skeleton's destruction previously, and he prayed that was the case once again.
H'aanit summoned a strike of lightning magic before she lashed out at the other skeleton. The beast stumbled for a moment before the earth shifted and swallowed the beast's legs. Ophilia was the one who had moved the ground below using the earth magic Brand had taught her, though she still seemed somewhat uncertain about it. The skeleton thrashed and fought to try and escape, but H'aanit didn't give it the chance. Instead, she raised her axe high above her head before slamming it down on the skeleton's head. The beast screeched before collapsing into a pile of bones on the ground, and H'aanit kicked the remains of the monster aside before turning her attention towards Gideon.
She was far from being the first person to try and attack the dark mage though. Primrose had already removed her dagger from its sheath, and she and Therion were converging on Gideon with their knives at the ready. Alfyn came up behind Gideon just between the pair, and even after Primrose and Therion had staggered the man through strikes on either side, Alfyn lashed out at him from behind.
Gideon was immediately sent sprawling forward, but he tucked his body in tightly to roll without sustaining too much damage. His robes, thick and powerful, had absorbed much of the might brought upon him by Primrose and Therion, but he was still clearly left disoriented from the attacks. He turned to face the trio before raising his staff high above his head, and the shadows of the room swarmed to meet his every command. The darkness immediately shot out towards the trio, attempting to consume them with all the desperation Gideon possessed.
Therion let out a strangled call as he was hit straight on, slamming into the wall as a result. Cyrus couldn't see what Gideon was doing from so far away though, so he concentrated on a small fire spell before launching it at the vacant torch on the wall. That wouldn't completely fix the problem of not being able to see well, but it would at least help a bit.
Sure enough, Therion did come into view soon afterwards, but there were still shadows lingering around his face. He reached up to his eyes, trying to pull the darkness away, but the shadowy magic wasn't tangible enough for that, instead slipping right between his fingers. He let out an irritated snarl as he pushed himself to his feet, though he seemed to be somewhat shaky with each motion.
Alfyn immediately fell into place just beside Therion, and he pulled ingredients out of his bag as quickly as he could before concocting some small fluid. His fingers worked at unbelievable speeds before he cupped one hand against Therion's chin. The thief silently protested at first, but he stopped as soon as he realized the one behind it was Alfyn. The apothecary dripped a bit of the liquid across Therion's eyes, and the darkness immediately began to dissipate. Therion stumbled once again from the sudden disorientation of having his vision return, and Alfyn looked at him a bit closer to see if it had worked. Alfyn's expression shifted to shock for a brief moment before Therion looked away, refusing to allow the apothecary to stare at him for any longer than was absolutely necessary. Instead, Therion twirled his dagger over his hand once more before rushing towards Gideon.
Throughout all of this, Gideon had turned his attention to the rest of the travelers, and Tressa was at the front of the remaining quintet. She stabbed at him with her spear, trying to target the weak points on his sides where Primrose and Therion had already struck him, but nothing ever seemed to fully get through the thick fabric of his robes. Eventually, Gideon tried to bring his staff down on Tressa's head, but she threw up her spear to block him at the last minute. He was much taller than she was, but he lacked her muscle, making it a rather even fight.
Or, at the very least, it would have been even were it not for Tressa sliding one of her feet forward ever so slightly. Wind magic immediately rushed straight toward Gideon, knocking him off his feet and sending him into the wall. A sickening crack echoed through the room, and Cyrus winced at what he knew to be the fracture of bone. Gideon let out a pained groan before he focused his energy on the ground once again, and two more skeletons pushed themselves free before attacking, giving Gideon the time he needed to recover.
Cyrus flicked his wrist at the skeletons, immediately freezing them over. Olberic and Alfyn raised their weapons before letting them fall dramatically onto the creatures of bone, shattering the ice and sending their remains flying. Gideon's eyes went wide with fear at the sight of his minions falling so easily before he raised his staff, preparing to cast yet another dark spell. The air rippled, and the torch against the wall bent beneath the force of his magic.
However, the spell never had the chance to fly free. Ophilia raised one hand above her head, and light magic exploded around her. Gideon screamed in pain at the sight of the light the same way the other dark mages had, and he threw his hands up to cover his face from the magic. His grip on his staff grew loose, but he didn't allow himself to completely drop the weapon yet.
Primrose twirled with the Shadow Fan in one hand and her dagger in the other, and a rush of strength immediately flooded Cyrus' body. He felt stronger in every way, and for the first time, he felt as if he would be able to handle a physical weapon aside from a staff or dagger gracefully. Of course, he knew better than to believe this high would give him that power, instead simply concentrating all of his newfound power into the tips of his fingers for another magical attack.
Cyrus cast down a massive fireball, and it slammed straight into Gideon. The man, who hadn't yet recovered from the magic attack, immediately screamed in pain as the flames ate away at his robes without missing a beat. His clothing was thick enough to stop most physical hits from doing significant damage, but he wouldn't be able to stop the fire as it consumed him so completely. Gideon pressed his hands together at the heart of the inferno, trying his best to calm himself, and darkness crawled around him before extinguishing the flames. It was still too late to prevent the damage fully, but he had at least managed to mitigate the harm.
Unfortunately, that wouldn't be enough to save him. In the midst of his panic, Gideon had dropped his staff, and the wooden carving clattered to the stone ground below. Gideon breathed heavily as he tried to calm himself down, but it was clear he wasn't having anywhere near as much luck as he would have liked. He didn't even seem to notice that his staff was gone at all, too caught up in his own agony to realize.
Tressa pressed her spear forward, and the wind around her slammed straight into Gideon. The breeze collided roughly with his abdomen, sending sparks of pain rattling through his body. He hit the wall roughly, his broken ribs growing worse under the weight of the impact. He let out a strangled gasp and curled one arm around his body to try and mitigate the ache, but he knew it wasn't going to be that easy. He pressed his eyes shut in desperation to stop the pain.
Cyrus glanced around desperately, trying to find something that would stop all of this. Gideon was an experienced mage, so he took less damage from magical strikes even if they exploited his weaknesses the way fire and light magic did. Given the burn damage his robes had sustained, perhaps the travelers would be able to pierce the fabric and finally end the fight. It was only an instinct on Cyrus' part, but he knew they might as well try it. After all, where was the harm if it worked?
Cyrus' gaze fell on the staff that had fallen to the floor at Gideon's feet. Tressa's wind spell had pushed the weapon off to the right towards the door, and while it was closer to Gideon than it was to Cyrus, he would still be able to make it before his foe noticed. Cyrus dashed as quickly as he possibly could, taking advantage of the power boost that Primrose had granted him. Gideon's eyes went wide as soon as he realized just what Cyrus was doing, but because of the debilitating pain in his side, he couldn't pry himself away from the wall to fight the scholar off.
As soon as Cyrus had the staff in his grasp, he tucked away the Tome of Tundras before concentrating all of his energy into the sharpened weapon between his fingers. He let out a fierce cry before he could stop himself as he charged towards Gideon. The dark mage's eyes went wide, and he moved his arms in an attempt to defend himself only to find that Cyrus wasn't the only one trying to attack him.
Alfyn had pressed one hand against the ground, and ice was rapidly gathering against the stones below before climbing up Gideon's body. The dark mage cried out in pain and surprise, and his arms instinctively fell away from his face and upper body as he tried to muster the magical strength to melt through his confines. His expression was one of sheer panic, but no matter how much he thrashed, he could never quite break free in full.
And he never had the chance either.
Cyrus plunged the sharpened staff deep into Gideon's chest, and the mage's eyes went wide as he stared up at the scholar. For a long moment, the air seemed to swell, and the two simply watched one another. Cyrus glared intensely at his opponent, breathing heavily all the while, before he yanked the staff free of Gideon's chest. His assumption had been correct; the burn damage to Gideon's clothing had offered him all the advantage he needed to finally end this battle.
Gideon couldn't bring himself to speak as the life ebbed out of his body all too quickly. Alfyn allowed the ice around Gideon's body to disperse, and the man collapsed to the ground. Blood pooled around his torso, staining the ground below with the same scarlet as the sigils nearby. Cyrus stared down at his victim for another few moments, unable to calm his heavy breathing no matter how hard he tried.
Of all the ways the day could have ended, Cyrus never would have expected this. He hadn't ever thought he would be forced to kill someone, and yet, he knew it was for the best. He had stolen Gideon's life, yes, but it was for the sake of rescuing those who Gideon would have killed otherwise. Justice was a complicated subject, but Cyrus knew that he was doing what had to be done. For the sake of the hostages, Gideon had to die, and everyone knew it.
Cyrus stared down at the staff in his hand, noticing belatedly that even more blood than usual was dripping from its tip. He had no idea how many people the weapon had harmed or even killed, but it would never again be used for such a purpose. The staff had been turned against its owner, but as far as Cyrus was concerned, that was simply something that needed to happen. The other travelers understood as well, Cyrus was certain.
At the very least, they had managed to save the hostages. That was what mattered most.
Whew. Intense update, huh?
I decided to change the dialogue in this part of the story a bit to incorporate the other travelers more. Cyrus wasn't talking to anyone in the experimentation room in canon, so I changed his internal monologue to a conversation between him and the rest of the group. I really like how it turned out, and I hope all of you do as well. This was a fun one to work on even though it was a heavy one.
The only thing I really have to discuss here is the soulstone thing. I added that in somewhat belatedly, but I'm going to talk about it more next time as well. I thought it would make a bit of sense for soulstones to be involved with this since they're compact energy in rock form, and I imagine that making blood crystals takes a lot of magical power. It's just a small bit of extra world building, but I like it a lot. Once again, we'll talk about it more in the next chapter as the travelers look around the sewers and theorize a little bit more.
Speaking of next chapter, we'll dive into the aftermath of this fight next week. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!
-Digital