Chapter Four: Fellow Heroes
As William sped up the stairs, he was suddenly assailed with visions.
Before his eyes, William beheld a vast room of elaborate, ivory pillars. And within it stood a woman of majestic beauty, indescribable beauty, clad in white. Her long, brown hair fell around her as she stood with her back to a bed of pillows. Her legs were bared by her skirt, and her hands were clasped before her. And in front of her was an hourglass, whose glowing sands fell like the passing of angles.
Yet this was no hourglass to be put upon a table. It towered over the room, immense in size so that the lower part of it was taller than William. The sand swirled within it, over and over, changing and shifting so you could never be sure how far along they were. The woman looked down at them, and William felt as though she were gazing at him.
The hourglass stopped.
And then he halted as the steps came to an end.
William found himself between floors. Around him, he saw the stairs continued, but there was a landing here. And many, majestically beautiful woman lounged upon pillows around him. Their clothing left little to the imagination, wearing red and white. All of them were akin to a dream, though lesser compared to the Princess.
"Greetings to you, noble Prince." said one, coming forward. She wore a circlet of gold and bowed in a way that showed off her ample cleavage.
This had to be a trap.
"You..." said William. "Who are you?"
"We are ladies in waiting of the Princess." said the leader. "We have come here on your behalf to aid in your quest."
And as he spoke, they arose and moved toward him, surrounding him. William looked around, setting a hand to his sword. But there seemed nowhere they could hide a weapon on them anyway.
"Are you?" asked William, not believing a word of it.
"Indeed we are." said another. "Our purpose is to find worthy warriors and offer them our aid."
"I was under the impression that I was to undertake this journey alone," said William flatly. "And I am busy at the moment."
"Oh, but we are here to aid in your quest." said another. These women seemed to move around almost as a single entity. "Ahead of you lies a dangerous and terrible way. There are many guards who will seek to end your life if you go that way. And besides that, there are many other dangers, traps, and such.
"We can show you an easier way."
"Easier?" asked William, remembering the near-deaths he'd had so far. "What do you mean?"
The one who had spoken first moved to a door and set a hand to a panel. It slid open before him, and William saw a swift and easy way, leading down from the stair. "Through this pathway, we can take you by a route that will lead you all the way to the fourth level. You may bypass the dangers and troubles of this route and so come unawares."
"That route is leading down, not up," noted William.
"Yes, that is the purpose." said the woman. "This passage twists around the various floors and comes out near the passage of the fourth floor."
"Ah, I see," said William. "In which case, it will take a larger amount of time to go through."
"Somewhat more, yes, but you may waste as much time fighting the guards." noted another among them as they drew in.
Realistically speaking, was William really going to get to the top? And if he did not reach the top, the only thing he'd have achieved was what he did along the way. "I may, but killing the guards performs a service in itself. My thanks to you, ladies, but I shall take the long route."
The women looked at eachother and nodded. Then they drew back and bowed formally. "...As you wish, noble knight."
Somehow, William had the feeling that their mission had not been so much to help as test him.
And then William had come out of the passage and was at the top. The dungeon in which he had been before had been clean and well put together. This place, however, was crumbling. The stones were cracked, and mold was growing on the walls. It was a bit warmer here, though, and the mold told William that things could live here.
Where below had been utterly dead, he saw a mouse scurry into a hole in the wall. It was... comforting to be in the presence of life again. Still, he had work to do. Turning to either side, he saw one way led to a shallow pit and nowhere else. Drawing his sword, he looked left.
There, in the distance, he saw a guard standing in a doorway, a blade planted in the ground. The undead was waiting for him, clad all in white and blue. William turned and moved forward, facing across from the man. At his feet was a freshly bloodied corpse, one who had lost its head. This one was eastern.
"So, you've passed the threshold guardian, have you?" scoffed the guard. "No matter, you'll find that he is the weakest of all of us. The dregs of our guard."
The weakest of all of us? And he, not they. That seemed an important detail.
William stepped forward, only for the ground beneath his feet to crumbled. Falling downward, he caught himself, only for that floor too to give them. Falling to the ground, he saw the guard leaping down from above at him.
Rolling away, he heard the spark of metal on stone and turned to face his enemy.
"Now you face us! And we are legion!" cried the guard.
Their blades met, once, twice, thrice, and with each blow, William was forced back. Soon he was at the edge of a pit and trapped there. Catching the guards blade, he held it there, struggling not to fall. "Legions are but mortal."
"At least you didn't flee like the last one." snarled the guard, pressing him back.
"Last one?" asked William, thinking quickly.
"You require no exposition on my part." said the guard, nearly driving him off. "You'll see him soon enough, in death!"
William didn't need any.
Dropping to one knee, he used the guard's own momentum against him. His enemy let out a cry and fell down over the edge into the pit. There was a sickening crunch, and William looked down, before smiling.
"Well, it seems the dregs were the better part of the wine," said William.
Then he walked onward.
Pulling himself up onto the platform, he saw the new corpse and was glad it was not Felix. Then he moved on and halted. There, to one side, was a dead guard. Someone had stabbed him repeatedly, and he'd been put lying there. Another could be seen ways up in several pieces.
It was clear that the dead guards were laid to rest en masse. That meant that these ones had been killed only recently. And the one he'd killed had mentioned one who had leaped past him without fighting.
Was it possible that Jaffar only ever had one guard on duty at a time? And if so, he must replace them as soon as one had moved on. William assumed that fighting two men at a time wasn't considered fair. But what if two escapees got up here at the same time?
Something was very wrong here.
Even so, he had no time to consider the matter. Because as he walked forward, the floor under him shuddered. Leaping back, William saw it fall apart before his eyes. And he smelled a familiar aroma and felt a welcoming presence. Stepping down into the darkness below, he saw through the floor another potion. Picking it up, he looked at it.
The designs were different here.
Rather than showing the warriors drinking of it, it showed warriors being slain. They fell in battle, and as they did, their blood spill down into the earth. As it entered the underworld, it seeped down into a great cauldron. There the serpent goddess from before cast some incantation.
Blood?
Was this drink blood? William felt a sense of revulsion and put it down. No, don't be foolish, blood did not smell or taste like this. It was likely a metaphor for the heroism of warriors providing the means by which the land was healed. In any case, William was not injured and didn't need it.
Putting it down, he clambered up onto the top and looked back. One of the guards corpses and saw that there wasn't a drop of blood from them. Looking further down toward the body of the other would-be Prince, William felt a chill.
Not a drop of blood remained. The body had withered to appear as the guards.
William turned away with a shudder. As he did, a warmth coiled around him, telling him to concern himself purely with the Princess. That was what he had come here to do, and by seeking her, he was already doing great good. His eyes looked at the mold and some insects below.
Then he saw many holes within the ground, and within each one was a spike, just below the surface. Drawing out his sword, he tapped the ground and the spikes came out. If he hadn't looked down then, he'd be dead.
Coincidence, he was sure.
Quickly, he picked his way through the spikes and saw a raised platform over the hallway above. Wanting to be as far away from the potion as possible, he climbed up and ran alongside it. Soon enough, he came to the gap. But several ledges were leading up a bit. So William sheathed his sword, ran back, and made a running leap.
He nearly smashed his face in on the wall, and the present expressed concern.
Ignoring it, William began to scale his way upward.
Reaching the top, he saw before him a guard standing at the ready with his blade up. But he was looking the opposite direction and cursing as if someone had just escaped him. As William stepped forward, the guard whirled on him.
This one's lifeforce would restore the land soon enough.
"Another one." hissed the guard. "Fine then, I'll carve you up soon enough. One more to add to Jaffar's collection!"
William rushed forward and didn't take a defense. He attacked, striking hard and fast. The guard parried and thrust at him, but William twisted his sword to cut off the hand. Bringing Excalibur around, he slashed the leg out from the guard. Even as he did, the guard drew out a knife and jabbed William in the leg.
"...Damn you..." snarled the guard. "You... will never... reach... the Princess..."
William cut his head off, ignoring the pain. Now he was the one cutting guards to pieces. He wondered if the next adventurer if there was a next, would drop him from a pit.
It hardly mattered.
Making his way on, William soon found he had to scale up to another ledge with a portcullis at the top. Finding the pressure plate, he pressed it, then pulled himself up. As he walked on, he saw another pressure plate and a straight line to the door.
This looked simple enough.
Moving over the plate, William sprinted forward. As he ran, part of the floor fell away moments after he passed it. Even so, he was over-
And then he hit another pressure plate and the gate shut.
Ah, it was one of those.
Yet that presence, that familiar presence drove him to look down the pit. Scaling down quickly, he came to the edge and saw another potion. Quickly picking it up, he examined it as well. This one had a very different design. It showed many different pictures of battles being waged between warriors.
And even as they were fighting, the serpent goddess set the potions for the victor to find.
Was it possible that there were being placed, even as he did battle? Certainly, they were warm to the touch. However, it hardly mattered. William drank the potion and felt his wounds heal, and his energy restored. Setting the gourd down, he moved onward, coming to another bed of spikes in front of a ledge.
Activating it with his sword, he slipped through and scaled upward.
Beyond, he saw a guard, clad in orange and yellow. He regarded William with narrowed eyes, then let forth a breathless sigh. "So, you passed the first two, did you? Today is ever more costly to our forces."
"Are you an officer, then?" asked William.
"In a manner of speaking." said the guard. "I am responsible for the assigning of the prison guard. As well as those you've gone through. When one falls, I see him replaced."
"I'm curious how the dead decide who should lead?" asked William.
"The strong control the weak." said the guard. "Let us see which of us is stronger. Draw your sword."
William did so, and the two took stances. For a long moment, they paused in place before they began to circle, looking for weaknesses. As they did, William saw his chance and sprang forward. His enemy surged forward as well, and they passed eachother. William felt a blade rake against his shoulder but miss for the most part. Excalibur, meanwhile, cut deep and bloody through his enemy's side.
Halting, William sheathed his sword. There was a sound, and his enemy collapsed into a slump. Without a word, he walked on and came across, yet another potion set for him to find. Yet there was another, just beyond that had blue steam coming from it. Drinking of the red, he examined the markings and found them blank.
Perhaps there was no more to say.
Then he moved forward toward the blue potion. He was unharmed, but perhaps it would provide him some greater power. Already, William could sense that life in this place was returning. A spider's web above had caught many flies. Plants could be seen growing from cobblestones.
Was this because of him?
Or was had it always been this way and he had only just noticed. Nicodemus had said that reality was merely the surface of our thoughts. If so, perhaps William had drawn this reality up from the depths of the unconscious by his efforts.
He looked at the potion.
The markings showed a warrior standing tall atop an army. Men raised their swords to hail him, and at his feet were dozens of women. He along was worthy, stronger than the others, and the warriors ended their own lives before him. As they drank poison, their lifeforce was drawn from their bodies and sent to the warrior.
William did not know what this potion did, but what it seemed to promise was wrong. Putting it down, he moved past. A gate shut behind him, and he glanced back at the closed way. Then he climbed onward. Something seemed pleased at his choice.
As he did, he felt drawn to move faster through the halls. By now, there were more parts of the walls covered by moss than not. Grass was growing up through the tiles as he scaled up a rise. It occurred to William that he was not tired. Was this some magic of the potion, increasing his stamina beyond normal limits?
He was certain that the Princess would make all things clear when he came for her.
But why was he certain? Something within him had shifted, and he was not sure he liked it. And then he nearly walked off a cliff. It led down to a huge drop, and, sure enough, there were many corpses below. Though at least there were vines and grass growing over them. It gave them something resembling a burial. Further along, there was a guard, pacing restlessly before him.
If the man came forward, he could probably kill William as he leaped.
But that wouldn't be fair, would it? William realized how frustrating this must be to Jaffar. At any point, he could have killed William and every one Prince, no, adventurer. But doing that would break the wager.
"What's the matter, Prince?" hissed the guard. "Afraid to make the jump?"
"Why are you even working for Jaffar?" called William.
"Because we hate you." replied the guard. "We enjoy your demise. We facilitate it and pray with every moment for your destruction and despair!"
"...What precisely have I done to warrant such hate?" asked William.
"You are but the extension of what we hate." said the guard. "After I kill you, the Prince will find another. You'll not get away like his last self."
Prince? They had addressed him as much, but he was no Prince yet. Even so, there was no more time to wait. "Fair enough."
Then, William leaped from the edge, landing in a crouch.
The guard howled and rushed forward. William raised his blade, tensed to meet him, then stepped aside. The guard slid to a halt too late and careened off the edge. In midair, he turned and caught himself by one hand.
William moved forward and raised his sword. Then he halted. He could not kill a helpless opponent. "It is finished. Yield, and I will spare your life."
"Never!" snarled the undead. "This shell did not suffice. Another may."
Then he let go and fell to shatter into dust upon the ground. Around him, the plants began to grow openly. Water broke through the wall and poured outward to begin forming pools. William smiled and sheathed his weapon.
Then he walked onward.
"Hello!" William heard a cry. "Hello!
"Can anyone hear me?"
William followed the cry to a side passage and found a great pit, and looking down, he saw only spikes. Plants were growing in there, but not as much. "Who speaks?" called William down.
"Oh thank Allah." cried a voice. "I thought I'd be trapped here for eternity."
"Do you need help?" asked William about to climb down.
"Don't come down! Don't!" shouted the man quickly. "You scale down, but there's no way back up again if you try."
"How did you get down there?" asked William. The drop looked quite lethal.
"I was an explorer, sent to chart these lands." said the man. "I spent years chronicling the landscape surrounding Babylon. These I stored countless maps in the libraries of Jerusalem."
"Jerusalem?" asked William at first wondering what the man was talking about. Then he remembered, though the presence bade him not to think of it. "I got my maps from there."
There was a pause. Then a laugh. 'Well, then it seems I've damned another to my fate.
"I... I was drawn to save the Princess when I had finished mapping everything. She appeared to me, pleaded that I come to aid her. My companions and I agreed and went to her aid. We were taken captive and given our fair chance.
"And yet I could not get far, couldn't even get out of the dungeons. It was too much.
"I doubt my companions faired any better."
Something clicked, and William remembered who he was. Who the man was, so to speak. "The...
"You are Assad of Jerusalem, the famous mapmaker?"
"You've heard of me?" asked Assad.
Where had he heard of him, anyway? "I am Sir William Gabriel of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Your maps were of invaluable aid to us in navigating this region.
"You were reported dead forty years ago."
"Forty years?" asked Assad. "But I...
"It has not seemed so long. I was told that time passed differently here." There was a sigh. "But it hardly matters, we are both of us damned, now."
"I am damned to nothing yet, sir," said William. "Is there anywhere I could find some rope?"
"I don't know, the land might have shifted since," admitted Assad. "This cursed dungeon is different for everyone." Then he halted, and a change came over his voice. "...No, no, you must not help me." It was almost a trancelike voice that spoke, now.
"What do you mean?" asked William.
"Jaffar has absolute power in this place," said Assad. "He left me down here because I was already trapped, but you're under the protection of the Princess.
"If you help me out, you'll be breaking the rules. He might kill you without restriction."
"Then what can be done?" asked William, hating this more by the moment.
"...You must find the Princess," said Assad, reverence in his voice. "There are others trapped here, like myself. Only when Jaffar is defeated, and she is saved can we be freed.
"Perhaps if you succeed-"
William had had enough. The presence drove him to remain silent and continue on, but he did not. Instead, he unhooked the blade by his side and tied it in place to keep it from falling. "No, I will not abandon you here. If Jaffar wishes to send his legions after me, I'll deal with them myself.
"One moment."
Tying the sheath around one leg, he lowered himself down. Looking down, he could see that the sheath was bouncing into a gap. That must be where he was. "Grab ahold of my legs. If you can, I might be able to pull both of us up."
"Yes, but..." began Assad, as if fighting off a spell.
"Come up at once," said William. "I shall go on alone once you are free."
Someone grabbed the sheath, and William struggled to keep his grip. Pulling himself up, pained his arms, but slowly he hauled himself over. Soon Assad came over the edge with him before clambering onto the flagstones. He was a short, wiry man with a black mustache and was clad as if for a wedding. But his garments were worn and filthy. At his side was a short blade, and he gasped for air.
"Thank you, young Prince of Jerusalem," said Assad.
Why did people keep calling him a Prince? "Prince? You mistake me. I am but the son of a Lord to a poor and dusty place." William untied his scabbard and returned the weapon to his side.
"How fortunate for you," said Assad. "Though...
"Forgive me, but was your mother, a slave from Europe?"
For a moment, William strove to speak. It was...
It was almost as if he honestly did not know. The memories were there, he knew as much, but it was almost like an unimportant detail. Resentment came to him at Assad's words, much delayed. William considered telling him that the Crusaders had purified Jerusalem. But that was not a Christian sentiment. "Much has changed since you disappeared. Jerusalem has been given into Christian hands. And so shall all the world."
Assad shifted. "...I see.
"Well, all is as God wills it, as they say."
William pulled himself up, feeling as if they should not be present at all. It was as if something fundamentally... wrong had happened with this. "We should separate here. You go that way, I'll take the other. In that way, Jaffar may not realize what I have done.
"Should one of us fail, the other must continue the quest in my stead."
Yes, that was the main concern. Ensuring the Princess was rescued.
Assad noded. "...I will not forget this, Sir William."
William's gaze returned to the sword. "That is not a sword used by your people, is it?"
Assad looked down. "This...
"This is the Sword of Damocles. Long ago, King Dionysus of Greece was praised by a courtier named Damocles. Damocles flattered him for his immense fortune and wealth. Dionysus offered to switch places with the courtier. Naturally, the courtier agreed. But as he sat in splendor, the courtier had this blade hung over his head by only a horse's hair.
"The story illustrates that with great power comes great danger."
"If I recall, Damocles begged to be returned to his old rank before the day was out," noted William.
"Yes," said Assad. "I think I have a better idea of how he must have felt now.
"What of your blade?"
William smiled in pride and drew it up. "Excalibur, the sword of King Arthur."
"I have not heard the name," admitted Assad.
"He was the greatest King the world has ever known," said William, pleased to be able to show off his knowledge. "While on a journey alongside the sorcerer, Merlin, King Arthur faced a Black Knight. The Black Knight had already killed several knights, for he would suffer no one to pass him. Their armor he sold, and their shields he hung from a tree.
"Arthur saw the shield of a knight who was dear to him and challenged the knight to battle.
"Both unhorsed one another and went to swords. For three days straight they did battle, never stopping for rest. Until at last, Arthur's sword was broken. Grievously wounded, Merlin took him away to be healed. And when Arthur was restored to health, Merlin took Arthur to a great lake. It was majestic beyond description, and a boat was waiting for him.
"The boat brought them swift and sure without sail or oars, and then they met the Lady of the Lake. She bestowed Excalibur upon Arthur, and he bore it ever afterward."
"But how do you know this sword really is Excalibur?" asked Assad.
William considered the question. He'd assumed that only Excalibur could be so great, but there were other blades. It might be that Excalibur was even greater. "The sheathe, of course. I was grievously wounded against one of the undead, but I did not shed a drop of blood."
"But my sheathe too, provides such benefits," said Assad. "Sharaman's court had such enchantments, I am told. How can you know it Excalibur and not another blade from your history?"
William shifted. "...Well, how do you know that is the Sword of Damocles?"
"Jaffar said as much when he came to gloat," admitted Assad. "He held a grudge against me for the maps I had made, for they were the means by which new travelers could arrive. And he also keeps prisoners for intelligent conversation.
"I suppose he has little to do when not setting traps.
"We'd best not waste any more time.
"Hours do not pass as quickly in this world like our own, but they do pass. Farewell and good luck. For my part, I shall restart the level."
"Good luck," said William.
And so they parted ways and were gone.
As William made his way along the living halls. There he found that there was a staircase leading upward away from the main path. The presence that had been with him drew him upward with a sense of urgency, and he obeyed. Soon enough, he came to another set of spikes.
Navigating these, he found a ledge and scaled up it. And there he saw an altar inlaid with gold. There was a statue of the serpent goddess, and she was truly beautiful, even as a statue. Her hair was tied up above her head, and she held in offering another gourd.
This one was far larger than the others, and something was different.
Before William knew what he was doing, he had taken the gourd up and almost drank it. Yet he halted and looked upon the surface. Gazing at him, he saw an image of thousands of spirits rising upward from innumerable corpses. As they did, they melded and merged together. Their spirits formed together into a single divine warrior.
And by his side was the Princess, beautiful beyond measure.
The sight of her awoke a longing obsession within him, and he drank of the gourd before he could think. As he did, whispers filled his mind. His muscles tensed, and the gourd fell from his hands to shatter upon the ground. Raising one fist, he clenched it in hand. Power was filling him.
William was that warrior.
He was sure of that now.
No.
Pride came before the fall, and William would not succumb to pride. He would perform his duty as well as he could. So he turned, and carefully lowered himself between the spikes, before pressing on. As he did, he wondered where Felix was and what he had been doing.
William suspected that Felix was the one who had been sidestepping all those guards. There couldn't have been that many travelers here right now. And Felix always had been good at getting out of scrapes.
As he walked, he leaped across a great pit. Scaling upward, he turned around and leaped the other way. It was almost on a reflex that he journeyed down this corridor. As if he'd been down this hall before-
That was it.
The potions were not just magic. They were blood magic. Every hero who died was drained of their essence, their lives blood. Magic then ensured that those who drank from them were healed. And as one drank of them, they gained an element of the power of each hero.
William suddenly knew that there was a guard above him, waiting. There had been every time before, and there would be now.
A sense of revulsion passed through him at what he had done.
This was... dark magic, surely.
But there did not seem to be any hope of getting to the top and saving the Princess-
No.
William was here to kill Jaffar. Saving the Princess was a secondary benefit at best. He would kill the Vizier and end his threat, then leave alongside Felix.
The Princess and the serpent goddess were one and the same. Of that, he was sure. The potions were how she ensured her heroes had a chance of victory. While it could be argued as necessary, it remained unholy magic. The presence tried to soothe such thoughts, but he defied them.
Scaling quickly up, he faced the guard.
"So, you've drunk of the blood, have you?" asked the guard.
"Step aside," said William. "And you will remain unhurt."
"I think not." said the guard.
William surged forward as the guard raised his sword. His blade clashed against the sword, and it shattered before him. Excalibur cut clean down, cleaving the man in two as he walked forward. The ones that came later would be far stronger, his senses warned him.
A comforting presence told him to press on, but he shrugged it away. His memories told him that the gate would be shut, and those memories were correct. Pressing onward, William rushed forward at a run, coming to the ledge as expected. He cleared it, easily, and landed on the switch. Whirling around, he made another jump, and, as expected, was able to just make it.
Pulling himself forward, he saw that tiles had fallen from the roof. In through that roof came the welcome light of day. This had been a very long hour. William smiled and walked forward. Coming to the door, he scaled up it, knowing that this was only the beginning. Many stronger enemies awaited.
Good.
If he killed them, it would restore far more life to this dying land.
William would see it green again. And neither Jaffar nor his thrice-damned guards would stand in his way.
Author's Note:
And now I begin to see where I have been going with this. My business in writing this is to turn the gameplay elements into stories.
Assad, in this case, represents players who didn't die. Instead, they ended up trapped in an unwinnable situation. While the boy who was killed, I suppose, represents players who gave up early on because of difficulty. William rescuing Assad represents using Control A to reset the level. While the harem girls represent the ability to cheat to go to a higher level at the cost of a lot of time.
Also, fridge horror galore.