Author's Note: If you've not guessed by now, this chapter, like the two previous, take place just as Artix's assault team is teleported away. Enjoy. Also, I would like to announce the winner of the "Find the Easter Egg" Competition: Orta Dragoon. She wins. If I get anything about Azel wrong, Orta, Uh... TSDWI. The idea for this chapter came from two sources. The first and most prevelant is the quest called "Through the Nightmare, Darkly" in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. More specifically, the Trial of Perception from that quest. And the second, less recognizable source is the old NES Game, Shadowgate. Torches burning out, fun fun. Oh, and sorry about the tentacle reference. I couldn't help myself.
Lost in the Walls of the Mind, Part Three
Nine
-Azel's Story-
First day on the job, and already hurting. When Artix said that the first few weeks would be the hardest, she didn't exactly know he meant the ground would be the hardest. She pushed herself to her a standing position.
"Oh, sonuvabitch..." She muttered, noticing her clothes were gone. Her eyes narrowed as she looked about the room. Her eyes fell on a rather large oval sitting in the corner. Azel advanced and touched it. The moment she did, the oval, which she realized was an egg, shattered into a thousand pieces, and in it's wake stood a very cute Fire Dragon. "Oh, hello."
"The greatest aspect of a Tamer is the ability to lay your trust within your partner-at-arms!" The Gai'lin's voice chanted in her head. "To be able to place your life in their hands, and remain alive. This Fire Dragon, is named Akriloth. His father perished by the hands of the Guardians years ago. May Akriloth guide you through these trials!" The voice died. The tiny dragon, small enough to fit in Azel's palm, jumped onto her shoulder and cuddled up next to her, purring.
"Great. I've got a big baby Dragon..." she muttered, shivering. "And no freakin' clothes..." Azel sighed and braced herself against the wind. She looked about in the six by six room she was in and tried to find a door. As she pressed a hand against a wall, the entire room collapsed around her. As she looked about, she saw several small, crystalline slivers appear and glow a soft red. It wasn't enough to light the pitch-black area, but it was a soft requime. Standing at the center of a ring of those crystal lights was an open chest. Her eyes steadily adjusting to the low light, she noticed three torches inside. She picked up the three and her she tried casting a small fire spell. The spell just fizzled and was extinguished. She swore loudly.
"Mother fucking piecea..." She tried once more, the spell fizziling again. She sighed a heavy sigh of defeat.
"Mraw..." Baby Akriloth cooed, then sneezed. A jet of flames billowing from his nose. He began charging for another sneeze, and in anticipation, Azel put a torch in front of his nose. Sure enough, he sneezed, the small jet of flames just enough to catch the oil-soaked rag on fire. Light filled the 'room'.
The room Azel was in, wasn't really a room at all. It was more like a void space. A place of no material value. Nothing physical. No ground, no sky, all was black, all was one. The only think she saw was a stone path which lead off into nothing.
"Thanks, buddy." Azel petted the Dragon on its head. It purred again, this time at the attention. She turned her head to the stone path and, being the only safe place to walk, advanced. As she moved, stones continually moved from behind her to in front of her. Almost like the walk was moving itself. It moved fast, but slow enough where there was always three stones behind and before her.
"Darkness. Darkness has but one friend, the night. And the night has but one weakness. The light." The Gai'lin sounded in her head once more. "Darkness has always lost it's fight with the light. Light is too powerful for the Darkness to overcome. Except here. Here, where Darkness reigns supreme. Here, where light has no meaning... no right to exist!" As the words 'exist' exited the Gai'lin's mouth, a icy blast rushed past Azel's head and extinguished the torch, expelling it from her hand, into the dark chasm below. Thankfully, Azel kept a hold of the other two. The Gai'lin laughed darkly. "Better keep those last two little, Little Azel. You wouldn't want to fumble around in THIS Darkness." Another laugh. Azel muttered a series of curses and drew the other torch up. Akriloth spit a jet of flames out and caught the rag. Again, the stones began to move as she walked.
The blast that had extinguished the first torch, it was a cold of a different measure. Unlike the all-over cold she felt now, more likely caused by her lack-of-clothing then the ambient temperature in the room, that blast was more concentrated. More... focused. She remembered the feeling just before it struck.
"So far, so good, little Mortal. Keep those torches burning, and you'll make it." There, a sudden shift in the air temperature. She had to time it...
The gust of wind came again, and knocked the torch out of her hand.
"Mother fucker!" She shouted as she watched the still-burning torch tumble and fall endlessly into the blackness. Her voice echoed and then fell silent. The Gai'lin laughed again.
"Three strikes and you're out, Mortal. Three strikes..." Azel drew the last torch up before Akriloth, who lit it. Something caught her senses... a smell. She knew that the smell was some kind of gas, Aptinol, by her best guess. Shaking that useless thought out of her head, she pressed on, determined to get the timing right on this pass. She had to. The walk continued to reshuffle itself to give Azel new walking spaces. "Ever feel like you're walking, you just keep walking... but you're not going anywhere?" The Gai'lin taunted. There, the temperature dropped again. Before Azel could react, the gust knocked the torch out of her hand once more. Darkness had finally claimed the Dragonmancer. But that same stench of Aptinol was in the air. A smile painted itself on her face, unseen in the low-light.
"Akriloth?" She smiled. The dragon, sensing what her plan was, snorted a short jet of flames across the path the gust of wind came. Light lava, the trail of ionized Aptinol caught on fire, engulfing everything in a reddish orange glow. The new moon, had suddenly become the noon time sun. Azel, smiling like a millionaire, continued her procession down the moving walkway, her destination clear.
"Astonishing!" The Gai'lin breathed. "Really! I'm impressed. Had an experience with Aptinol in your life, have you? Very good. You pass this test. But don't think I have only one in store for you!" The billowing flames had vanished, and Azel found herself in a bland, pure white corridor. No doors, no nothing. Just ten paintings on the wall, five on each size. "Let's test that pretty mind of yours, shall we? One of these paintings, is fake. Burning it will produce the exit. However, burning any of the nine real ones, will send the ceiling crashing down, right on top of your pretty skull. Choose wisely." The Gai'lin spoke, then was gone.
Azel paced up and down the two walls, studying the paintings. This would be a good place to explain exactly what was painted onto the paintings. You see, the Gai'lin has a very sick sense of humor. He delights, as you have no doubt seen already, in the torment of mortals. These painting reflected that. The paintings were of a woman, lying on a bed. Her face was screwed up into an expression of pain and agony, which is explained by the mass of tentacles piercing into every imaginable orifice of her body. The image was enough to chill even an iceberg. As far as Azel could guess, they were exactly the same. They had the same frame, the were perfectly aligned with one another, and they were perfectly perpendicular to each other as well.
The phrase "Think Outside the Box", comes to mind. Azel had to strain herself to think what these had in common. Something caught her attention. She looked closer at one of the paintings. Mixed in with the mass of tentacles was a face... a familiar one. She got real close, her nose touching the canvass, and saw that the face was Wolfblitzer. He had no emotion to his face, it was just his face. She moved to the next and scanned it. In about the same place as Wolfblitzer's face was in the last, there was Orta's. Cracking a smile, she moved down, seeing Crystal Lion's visage in the third. Soon, she had scanned all the paintings. They all had a face in them, but this didn't help. She still couldn't decide which was the fake. That's when the only other difference shown through. On the painting that contained Natalya's face, she saw a signature, probably the author.
"Akriloth. Toast this one." She commanded. The little dragon pipped and complied, scorching the painting. Azel paused, expecting the roof to collapse.
"Fantastic. You no doubt realize that the there is no true 'fake' painting. Art, in itself, is a fake. Art reflects what we know, what we feel. True mastery of a given area, is the ability to form something from nothing. The truth is... they all would open the door. But it was with your objective eye that you could see this. Advance, Azel." The Gai'lin spoke. The door on one wall opened, allowing her entrance. Inhaling deeply, the Dragonmancer advanced to the next room.
This room was completely bare. Only white walls, a white ceiling, and a white carpet. The sheer amount of white hurt Azel's eyes.
"Now, let's give you your final exam, shall we. Sacrifices must be made. We all know this to be true. We make our little sacrifices all day, almost every day. It is now time to test your ability to make a sacrifice. Make the right sacrifice, and you advance. Make the wrong, and YOU become the sacrifice. And I assure you, there IS a wrong answer." The walls of the room decended, revealing an even bigger white room. In the room sat a number of chairs, all but one of which were filled. Each of the filled chairs were filled by one of Azel's friends. They were arranged in a circle. Maria was closest to Azel, Natalya to her sister's right, Rayne to Natalya's right, Lizzie to Rayne's, Trip to Lizzie's, Serras to Trip's, Safiria to Serras', Artix to Safiria's, Orta to Artix's, Vince to Orta's, Felix to Vince's, Robina to Felix's, Warlic to Robina's, Crystal Lion to Warlic's, and finally Wolfblitzer was squeezed between Crystal Lion and Maria. The middle chair was empty. Each of the 'victims' were bound tight with chains.
"When your decision on who should be sacrificed is made, unchain them, and move them to the center chair. If the answer is right, you advance. If not, you die. Let them tell you who they think should be sacrificed, then make your decision." The Gai'lin's voice vanished.
"Take Wolfblitzer!" Maria started. "He's useless! All he ever does is make comments! Completely useless in a fight!"
"What?! Oh, fuck that! Hey, Azel! Take Orta! She's a medic! I can dress my own wounds. Besides, Orta's a non-com." Woflbitzer rebuttled, throwing his head at Orta.
"Dress your own wounds? You'll give yourself HIV!" Orta shouted. "Listen, Azel. Take Rayne. I've never liked that sour attitude of hers, and quite frankly, it's rather lowering to the moral."
"Well, if you don't like my attitude, you can blow it out your ass!" Rayne hollered, trying to unchain herself. "If you have a brain, Azel, you'll listen to me! Take Trip! She's a clutz! Can't keep her balance for more then six seconds! That, and she's always been a bitch to everyone. Trust me, no one will miss her. I won't."
"Who's the bitch now, ya bitch! If anyone in this room is gonna die, I vote Felix!" Trip spoke cleanly. "Felix always fucks everything up! We'll be doing Battelon... fuck Battleon, we'll be doing LORE a favor getting rid of her furry ass!"
"Hey! I take offense to that! Listen! Vince! Yea, take the Drakel! You can never trust their slimy hides!" Felix shot back.
"Slimy!? Why you furry little harlot! If you take anyone, take the Vampire!"
"Bullshit!" Safiria barked at Vince. "Take Natalya!"
"Robina!" Natalya deflected the attention to Robina.
"Artix!" Robina replied.
"Warlic!" Artix shot out.
"Crystal Lion!" Warlic butted out.
"SHUT UP!" Azel bellowed, breaking the argument off. Everyone looked at her. "I already know who's gonna be sacrificed."
"Oh." Safiria smiled. "Good, then." Azel began walking around the circle, running her fingers across the backs of all the chairs. After she had completed a circle, she vaulted over Maria's chair, and did another circle, this time the other way. Finishing before the empty chair, she sat.
"To each his own." She muttered simply.
"You have chosen..." The Gai'lin spoke, pausing for effect. "Poorly." A dread silence fell over Azel. "The correct person to sacrifice is the one who has the least effect in the team. A team, after all, is only as strong as it's weakest link." Azel heard the sound of metal sliding against metal. Before she could react, the copy of Wolfblitzer had drawn his sword, and ran it right through the back of the chair, impaling Azel in the process. "Such a pity. I had high hopes for you, Dragonmancer." The Gai'lin's words faded as Azel's vision blurred, a side effect of blood loss. The Gai'lin laughed.
"The others are dust!" He announced. "None of Lore's Champions remain! Pity. I will take this world." Azel's last cognitive thoughts were to her family, and finally to the cold, hard embrace of the ground.
Author's Epitaph: Ehehe. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I said I'd put Azel in, Orta, I never promised to keep her alive. The Loop Hole King Strikes Again! Bwaha!