10. Tomb of a Thousand Saints
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He awoke with a start, and slammed both palms against the stone surface. He was trapped once again, but this coffin was utterly dark. Lying flat on his back, he pushed with all his might, but the heavy slab would not yield. Still he shoved, his mouth stretching into a silent scream.
The stone budged a hair's width, and the slight progress bolstered his spirit. His bones and muscles ached as he heaved, slowly edging the cover aside, until it collapsed to the floor with an echoing thud. The man sat up cautiously, taking in his surroundings. He felt a wave of relief to find his belongings had been entombed with him, and gratefully retrieved his silver cane and flasks, still full of their contents. After making sure no enemies lay nearby, he pulled himself out of the sarcophagus.
He was in a labyrinthine catacomb. Countless stone coffins lay in rows around him, covered in carved effigies depicting the deceased. Glowing citrine was inlaid in the arched pillars, faintly illuminating the rustic brown bricks. At the base of each coffin were offerings to the dead, including flowers, gemstones, scrolls, vases, bundles of bloodstained cloth, and even paintings. They assembled around plaques engraved with the name of each body buried within.
The Lucid One turned to his own sarcophagus, finding its plaque eroded from time. All he could read was Saint Cal— and felt an odd sense of relief. That was not his name, and the cracked effigy of the bold priest did not resemble him in the slightest. He looked around for a way out, comforted to know that this would not be his resting place like so many others.
To his surprise, there was a staircase nearby, with light shining down into the dark catacombs. He started towards it, praying that it led back to the surface. As he ascended, he came to a grated iron door, through which the courtyard of the Basilica was visible. He smiled in satisfaction, then pushed. The door did not budge.
Something made a ruffling sound outside, and the man tensed. A shadowy figure blocked the grating, then a cheerful voice called through. "Heavens! What in the grace of Nos are you doing down there?"
The Lucid One was relieved to hear Brother Edson. He thudded loudly on the door, begging the Sentinel to let him free.
"I'm afraid you're trapped, friend," Edson informed him. "The door is locked from inside, and I've not the key to open it. Fortunately, I know where you might find it." He leaned close, as if divulging a precious secret. "You must go deep into the Tomb of a Thousand Saints. Seek the resting place of the first Sentinel, Saint Agara. She will certainly hold the key you're looking for. But be mindful not to plunder anything else. These are sacred grounds. You may draw unwanted attention if you give in to greed."
The man nodded in understanding. "Best hurry now," Edson shooed him off. "My fellow Sentinels protect these catacombs, and will not take kindly to your nosing about. They're charged with returning any awakened to rest, including yourself. It's ironic, really... The saints slumber eternal, but I suppose even they are prone to the occasional nightmare. Keep a sharp eye, and take care."
The Lucid One nodded again, then gripped his staff and returned to the cavernous depths of the dead.
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He studied the names of the many tombs, seemingly endless, but none were the one he sought. He eventually noticed a dim corridor leading away from the vault, and reasoned that the "first Sentinel" must have a more extravagant coffin than those around him. Ignoring the others, he moved deeper into the catacombs.
He was halfway down the hall when something appeared at the other end. He stood perfectly still as an angel drifted by, wearing similar armor as the archers, except its muscled torso lay exposed. It had no wings, only a pair of marble arches curling upward from its shoulder blades. Its neck ended in a slanted white surface, and a metal catchpole was held before it in both hands. The legless construct floated on, unaware of his presence, but he remained motionless until he was sure it had passed.
A quick glance revealed the path was clear. Still, the Lucid One did not take any chances, and cast his Lightfoot spell to move in silence. He took the opposite path, moving swiftly through the earthen tunnel.
He entered another identical vault, and grit his teeth in frustration. The Tomb of a Thousand Saints was certainly living up to its name. He walked among the stone effigies, reading off their names to no success. He felt a suspicion that Agara's resting place lay further still, in the deepest part of the necropolis.
A sound made him halt in his tracks. It was a faint whimper, like a wounded animal. His eyes scanned the sarcophagi once more, trying to locate the source, when he spotted a familiar pointed hat rising over an open coffin.
With his Lightfoot spell still active, he approached the huddled figure. He was astonished to find Lady Serise slumped against a tomb, its cover thrown aside to reveal the cloth-bound figure inside. The knightess twitched as she let out another moan. Hesitantly, the man reached forward and touched her shoulder.
The warrior was on her feet in an instant, sword half-drawn. The Lucid One jumped back, raising his hands imploringly, but Serise did not seem to recognize him. As they faced each other, her sword-arm slowly relaxed, and she gave a faint gasp.
"Oh... it's you. Forgive me, good sir... I was not myself. I must've dozed off for a moment, how foolish of me. I've just been so tired... I searched everywhere, every tomb, certain that I'd find him, but... Oh, this was my last hope. The one place I'd yet to look, and now... now..."
The Lucid One had no idea what she was rambling about, yet felt sympathy for her. He reached out to console the knightess, but she turned away from his touch. "And what brings you to this accursed place?" she practically spat. "Still trying to fulfill your silly pilgrimage?"
He faltered, taken aback by her venomous tone. "What do you hope to achieve? Becoming a divine? Please, don't be naive. The Cardinals would never allow such a thing." This time, he shook his head adamantly, wishing there was a better way to communicate. Then, he got an idea. With the tip of his cane, he made a rough sketch in the dirt of four figures with broken sword hilts. He pointed at the figures, then circled their weapons before pointing to himself. Serise's bleary eyes widened in response.
"You're going to take something from them? You... you're going to steal from the Cardinals. My word, you are either an utter fool or a brave one. Still a fool either way you look at it. They will not let you take what you desire without a fight. You know this, don't you?"
Despite the obvious, the man had never heard it spoken aloud. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a single, stoic nod. The warrior appraised him before returning the gesture. "If your mind is set, then so be it. You have aided me in opening the gates. It's only fair that I return the service." Rising to her feet, Serise produced a clump of green grass and chewed off a mouthful. "Lead the way."
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The duo journeyed through the crypts, weapons ready. As they entered yet another vault, the Lucid One saw many of the effigy-laden covers had been thrown aside, evidence of Serise's incessant search. The sleeping faithful lay exposed, their shriveled limbs wrapped in wisps of white cloth, with personal effects placed beside them. However, more than a few were unoccupied.
Then, he saw it. Directly ahead was an altar built around a massive sarcophagus. A winged statue loomed above, decidedly female, clothed in the heavy robes of the Sentinels. A pointed hood covered its marble face, with wavy locks of hair cascading down to the ankles. It held a chime with seven bells in its hands, and at its feet, a plethora of offerings lay scattered about, obscuring the plaque. The Lucid One drew closer until he could read its etchings—
Saint Agara, the first Sentinel
Patron of the choir
May her prayers ring true even in dreams
He had finally found it. Not wasting a moment, he searched the items surrounding the base of the tomb. He spotted a dusty book, a small sapphire ring, bouquets of wilted flowers, but no keys. With a rising sense of foreboding, he realized he must risk looking inside the tomb itself. He turned to Serise and gestured to the cover.
"Inside?" she guessed. "We best be quick about it. These catacombs have been too quiet for my tastes." She reluctantly sheathed her blade, and they placed both hands on the side of the coffin. With great effort, they strained against its weight until it grated aside, leaving a thin crack about a foot's width.
As the man peered into the dark cavity, he cringed at its musty odor. Through squinted eyes he beheld the remains of the first Sentinel, her embalmed form bound in white cloth, faded blonde hair still flowing across her body. Clutched between bony hands was a gold key on a chain. He hesitated briefly, then plucked it from her rigid fingers.
Before he could pocket the treasure, Lady Serise drew her blackiron greatsword in a flash. The Lucid One turned in alarm to see a headless tomb warden floating towards them, its sloped neck alight with bright-blue runes. It slammed its catchpole once on the dusty floor, summoning a sphere of lightning between its curved prongs.
"Move!" Serise shouted, and they dodged to either side as the orb streaked towards them. It hovered for a moment before detonating in midair, showering them in sparks. Serise leapt out of cover and fired her crossbow-shield, burying a jagged bolt in the angel's body. It continued forward, ignorant of its injury.
As the man crouched behind a sarcophagus, there was a crackling from behind. He spun to see a second Sentinel thrusting its catchpole at his throat. He fell backwards as it halted inches from his face, coursing with electric energy. Scrambling to his feet, he lashed the angel across its sloped neck with his staff, but merely cracked the marble surface. It immediately responded with a sweeping blow of its polearm, striking him under the ribs and nearly knocking him down.
He dove beneath the second strike and came up behind the warden. He thrust his staff into its side, causing it to lurch unsteadily, then followed with two lashes across its arm. Chips flew from its solid white skin as the Sentinel spun to face him, slamming its catchpole down in an overhead swing. The Lucid One rolled behind a coffin, keeping it between himself and the enemy.
Serise blocked an attack from her opponent, then countered with a straight jab. The greatsword broke through the Sentinel's torso, but the angel pressed its assault despite the gaping fissure. The knightess dodged beneath another strike as she hastily reloaded her shield, but an unexpected swing caught her full-force in the chest. The catchpole clanged off her breastplate as she stumbled backwards, eyes squinting in pain above her bandana.
The Lucid One leapt to her aid. He fired off a soul arrow, striking the angel between its back arches and marring its pristine body. The construct turned to face him, then slammed its catchpole against the ground, launching another lightning orb. He ducked for cover as the projectile exploded against a sarcophagus, throwing jagged shards in every direction.
Serise was back on her feet, greatsword gripped in both hands. With the enemy's back to her, she sliced downward and up repeatedly, gouging the marble flesh with successive strikes. The Sentinel tried to face her, but before it could act, the knightess gave a mighty leap and brought her black blade down on its collar, nearly cleaving its body in half. The angel sunk to the ground, motionless.
As the Lucid One rose from cover, the catchpole suddenly caught him around the neck. He was lifted into the air, kicking uselessly, grasping at the constricting prongs in terror. Then, a thundering peal wracked every nerve. His limbs went numb as he was dropped to the floor, a shrill ring flooding his ears. His vision swam as he struggled to recover from the electric shock.
The Carthanian warrior was a blur as she raced past to fight the Sentinel. The din of battle sounded miles away, steel echoing against steel as if from some deep cavern. The man grasped for his cane, though his fingers barely felt the cold silver, then heaved onto his back. Above, Serise plunged her blade into the angel's chest and drove it to the floor, where it crumbled apart.
Serise knelt beside the Lucid One, mouth moving behind her facemask, but the words were inaudible. He tried to nod in reassurance, but his head rolled uselessly on his shoulders. Then, Serise was looking past him, her body stiff. It took all his effort to turn in the direction of her gaze, where he beheld a new kind of enemy.
Standing among the coffins was a blood-red phantom. He was dressed identical to Brother Edson, but his entire form was bathed with crimson light. His left hand held a bronze shield encompassing four bells in a cross, while the right gripped a long poking iron ending in a circular brand, which glowed orange from intense heat.
The dark spirit stared at the intruders, not moving a muscle, and Serise glared back bravely. Suddenly, the phantom charged, and the knightess rushed to meet him. The man forced himself to stand as they collided, hobbling to join the fray.
The brand struck her shield, bursting with cinders and charring the wooden frame, and the blackiron greatsword crashed against his bronze ward, causing its bells to chime. The Lucid One's staff whipped forward, but the phantom rolled beneath the streaking silver, coming to his feet between the warriors. As they charged from either side, the Sentinel rang his shield and a flash of light erupted from his body, knocking both combatants clear off their feet.
The Lucid One crashed headfirst into a stone coffin, but the dark spirit was already upon him. He dodged sideways as the brand thrust forward, then the chime bashed him square in the chest. He staggered back, the wind knocked out of him, and could not avoid the next strike. The iron circle burned into his ribs, searing right through his clothes, causing him to writhe in silent agony.
The phantom tumbled away as Serise attempted to impale him from behind. She swung wide, trying to catch him mid-roll, but he was too swift. He stabbed his poking iron against her shield, then suddenly kicked it aside with a heavy boot. The iron rammed beneath her unguarded breastplate, and she cried out as the spirit shoved her to the dirt, grinding his searing brand into her broiling flesh.
The red Sentinel turned back to the Lucid One, eyes ablaze beneath his visor. The man stood his ground, cane gripped tightly, when he noticed an odd tingling on his right hand. From the corner of his eye, he realized the blue ring was pulsating with light.
As the enemy rushed in, a second phantom leapt out of nowhere, toppling the dark spirit with a thick copper wheel. The Lucid One stared in shock at the figure standing protectively over him, immediately recognizing the blue Sentinel. Brother Edson had joined the fight.
The red phantom was on his feet in an instant, but so was Lady Serise. As he tried to attack Edson, a barbed bolt launched into his side, then the copper wheel slammed against his torso. The spirit stumbled as the knightess sliced his arm, drawing a gout of blood, then she dodged around his poking iron. As Edson activated his weapon, the enemy raised his shield, and sparks flew as metal shrieked against metal. The phantom jumped away from the grinding wheel, then charged forward and burned the blue spirit on his shoulder.
The Lucid One cast a soul arrow from his staff, striking the phantom in the chest. He hunched over in pain, but recovered in time to avoid Serise's greatsword. He rolled forward, ignoring the knightess, and thrust his shield to launch a bubble of shining force towards the man. He had no time to avoid, and was flung bodily against the tomb of Saint Agara.
As the Lucid One struggled to stand, his eyes fell upon the scattered offerings. The glinting ring caught his eye again, and at once, he became aware of its familiar crest. Within the sapphire seal was a winged figure wrought from gold — an angelcrest ring, worn by scholars of Falmour. His jaw dropped as he realized his fortune, and immediately slid the ring onto his left hand. Pushing aside the pain, the man rose and rejoined the battle.
Serise and Edson pressed their assault, keeping the spirit from countering. Another steel bolt flew past his head, then Edson rang a golden chime, summoning a crackling lightning spear in his left hand. It raced by as the red Sentinel dodged to and fro, weaving between the projectiles untouched. Again, he drew his arms down and exploded with pure light, sending both warriors sprawling. He quickly closed on the fallen knightess, seeking to dispatch at least one opponent.
As he raised his brand to strike, a soul arrow burst across his back, its power bolstered by the angelcrest ring. The phantom lurched forward, then spun towards the Lucid One, phantom form steaming with rage. He rushed the lone sorcerer, but before he could reach him, Edson was on his feet, intercepting the enemy with electric wheel spinning. He tackled the dark spirit with a crackling pop, sending him careening against a coffin, and the Lucid One shot another soul arrow into his side. Brother Edson raised his wheel high and brought it crashing down on the Sentinel's helm, and the enemy crumpled to the floor.
Serise was back on her feet, and as one, all three warriors leapt upon the fallen phantom. The heavy wheel slammed against his midsection, the blackened blade slid into his ribs, and the silver cane staked through his eye socket. The red Sentinel lifted a feeble hand, fingers outstretched as if grasping for mercy, then finally went limp as he faded into smoke.
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The Lucid One sighed heavily, relief washing over him. The tombs were eerily silent now that the fight was finished. Using his cane to support himself, the man turned to his companions to give them his silent thanks. However, they paid him no attention. His smile slipped away as he sensed the sudden tension between the warriors.
Brother Edson leered at Serise with ice-blue eyes, his back straight as a tentpole. The knightess shrunk away from his presence, but stared back in defiance. They seemed to have entirely forgotten the Lucid One's presence.
At last, the blue Sentinel dissipated into thin air, leaving the two alone in the catacombs. Serise finally released her breath and slumped against a coffin. "Who the devil was that?" she rasped. "Your ally?"
The Lucid One nodded, frowning with concern for her battered state. "You keep some odd company, stranger," she continued, coughing into her bandana. He could see spatters of blood soaking through the cloth. "A word of warning. Stay clear of those Sentinels. They feign piety, and practice only pain. They will greet you as friend just to learn your darkest sins, then mete out punishment with a smile. They are not to be trusted, you hear?"
He bowed his head solemnly, recalling his first encounter with Edson. Serise grunted as she tried to stand, then slid to the floor with a pained moan. The man rushed to her side, but she waved him off with a gloved hand, producing more green blossoms in the other. "I'll be alright, stranger. I am simply exhausted. This journey is taking its toll... Please, do not worry yourself over my well being. We both have our quests, after all. You must hasten to finish yours. Let me rest here, just for a moment... I am so very tired..."
As Serise chewed on the blades of grass, her shadowed eyelids drooped. "Perhaps sleep will visit me at last... and... maybe I can see him, once more... one can hope, after all..."
As her rambling faded into whispers, the Lucid One felt reluctant to leave her side. He did not want to abandon her in these forsaken catacombs, but knew she was right. He could not afford to wait and risk another attack. As a final gesture, he gripped her shoulder tight, though she seemed not to notice, then stood to return to the surface.
Before he left, he suddenly recalled the gold key, still lying on the ground. With a start, he snatched it up, then eyed the tomb of Saint Agara again. Among the offerings, the musty tome drew his attention, and he wondered if its author was also the owner of the ring he now wore. Curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully retrieved the manuscript, dust falling from its binding. He began to browse its contents, and saw a single name inside the cover — Quintus. As he turned the brittle pages, he was surprised to see not only spell inscriptions, but also brief musical scores. Despite his interest, he had no time to indulge it, so he slipped the book into the folds of his robe and departed for the exit.
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Even after the tiresome battle, the Lucid One had enough energy to cast his Lightfoot spell, not wanting to draw further attention. He quickly retraced his steps through the countless coffins, occasionally hiding from the lone tomb wardens making their rounds. As he passed an uncovered tomb, he paused despite his hurry, surprised by the unexpected figure within.
It was the dark phantom he had just fought, only in physical form. The Sentinel's robes were ragged and dirtied, and the bronze helm had long since lost its polished gleam. His weapons had been entombed with him, and though the branding iron was rusted and cold, the bronze shield appeared intact. Hesitantly, the Lucid One reached into the coffer and removed it from the corpse's death grip. He hefted it on his left forearm, finding it lighter than expected, then gave it a shake. To his relief, the four chimes rang clear, and he knew it would still serve its purpose. Now, he could cast the miracles of the angels.
His eyes drifted to the plaque below. Its worn inscription read—
Saint Habard, the Sentinel
Patron of medicine and remedies
May he watch over our slumber, and rid our dreams of beastly visions
As he turned from the sarcophagus, he halted in his tracks. Three tomb wardens were approaching, alerted by his plundering. They stamped their catchpoles in unison, and orbs of lightning raced at him. The man dove behind a pillar as the spheres collided into a dazzling explosion, shaking dust from the ceiling. He dashed from cover and ran straight through the angels, who thrust their weapons in an attempt to catch him. With a nimble dive, he was past them, and saw the staircase illuminated ahead. His legs pumped in desperation as the Sentinels gave chase.
He practically flew up the stairs towards the grated door, fumbling for the gold key in his pockets. The wardens drifted closer as he jammed it into the keyhole and turned, hearing a liberating click in reply. He fell through the gate and slammed it shut behind him, locking his pursuers within the tomb.
Panting, he stared around, taking in the vacant courtyard once more. Brother Edson was nowhere to be seen, but neither were the angels. The Lucid One counted his blessings as he rose to his feet. He looked down at the key in his hand, then back to the cathedral to his left. He suddenly realized the key's engravings matched the gold designs on the church's doorway. He was certain that it would unlock the right half, but the left — the one forged of dark iron — would undoubtedly require a second key. He was so close, but still the obstacles persisted.
He gazed across the vast Basilica, wondering how he could possibly find a lone key among its soaring spires. With a despairing breath, he began his aimless search.
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Appendix
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Cleric's Chime — A golden chime commonly used by devout worshippers of Nos. Ring the bells to cast divine miracles. The faithful often recite revelations of the angels, and hold unwavering belief in their absoluteness.
Emit Force — A miracle of the Sentinels. Knocks down enemies at range without causing bodily harm. The Sentinels are known as protectors, but there are those who would yet flee from them. This spell was devised to hinder their escape.
Force — A miracle of the Sentinels. Knocks down nearby enemies without causing bodily harm. Spilling mortal blood is a sin against Nos, and the Sentinels faithfully adhere to this decree.
Gentle Angelcrest Ring — A ring granted to novice scholars. Slightly boosts sorceries. The scholars of Falmour often undertook journeys to sacred grounds. They believed that ascertaining the secrets of the angels could reveal the path to divinity.
Lightning Catchpole — A weapon imbued with lightning, used by the Tomb Sentinels. It is designed to incapacitate enemies while inflicting minimal harm. The tomb wardens are tasked with protecting the sleeping saints, and occasionally, returning them to rest.
Lightning Orb — A miracle of the Radiant Legion. Fires a hovering sphere of lightning. Heliphon commands all that the light touches, and few can escape his vengeance.
Quintus's Old Journal — A tattered manuscript written by a scholar named Quintus. Though many of its pages are missing, there is still plenty to be gleaned from the lessons recorded within. Strangely, much of the text is complemented by musical notation.
Sentinel's Key — A golden key granted to the Sentinels of Cardinal Richter. Unlocks the door to the cathedral. After the Cardinals slew the traitorous Xyne, they retreated to the cathedral for reasons unknown.
St. Habard's Iron — A branding iron crafted by Sentinel Habard. Its circular brand is designed to counteract infections, but only if caught in the early stages. Despite his best efforts, Saint Habard lost many allies to the feral scourge that once ravaged the lands.
Warding Chime — A unique chime that also functions as a shield. Often used by Sentinels to grant protection. The Sentinels have long defended the Basilica from danger, most notably the beasts of the Bottomless Pit and the Nephel, unholy spawn of the Propagator. They hold little guilt over vanquishing these sworn enemies.