Garam looked at the markings which were at eye level for the dwarf, and traced the engraved writing with his fingers. “Hmm,” he said, “seems that this is quite worn. All I can make out is the word ‘east’ and another word which means ‘tunnel,’ nothing more.” They moved to the next door, directly across from their entrance. “This one,” Garam said, “is far too worn to make any sense.” They moved to the last door, left of the main entrance. When Garam looked at the markings on the plaque he began to tremble.
“What is it?” Aaron asked. “What does it say?”
“It can’t be,” Garam exclaimed. “It can’t be!”
Braden woke, startled by Garam’s shout. He snatched up his axe as he and Lorik came quickly to their companion.
“Garam, what is written on that plaque?” Braden asked.
Garam took a deep breath, exhaled and reached his trembling finger toward the golden plate anchored to the wall. “It says,” Garam whispered, “‘the Heart of Charis, the Sword of the Wind.’ Then it reads, ‘Beware the guardian.’”
“What does it mean?” Lorik asked; his voice hushed.
Garam refused to speak further, so Braden began to explain. “Charis is the name of the chief city of the ancient King of Celedon. The Sword of the Wind is the king’s sword, and it was written in our history that only the ancient King could wield its power.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lorik. “I thought that this Book of Aleth was the ancient power of the King.”
“It is,” Braden said. “But there is more to the ancient hope than just finding the book. I’m no lore-master, but I know that the King’s sword is a part of it.”
Garam recovered his composure and spoke. “Let me tell you the full tale. During the Great War, and before the King died, he promised that there would come the time of restoration, when the ancient ways would be brought back to Celedon and the old truths would be renewed. He said that it would come about when the Book of Aleth was restored and a new Protector would prepare the way. Afterward, the one who possessed the spirit of the King would rise to reclaim the Sword of the Wind and defeat the usurper. With his defeat, the nation would again be free and the King would reign. These artifacts were lost during the Great War that broke the nation and scattered the races. When the Book of Aleth was discovered, we believed that it was a sign that the time was near to overthrow the emperor and restore Celedon to her former glory.”
“But,” asked Lorik, “who is this ‘Protector’?”
“In the ancient days, he was the warrior of Celedon, a great and mighty captain of men who stood with the King in battle,” Garam answered. “He was given a sword as well, a gift from the King to aid him in the great struggle against all evil.” Garam paused, silent for a moment. “It was said that during the Great War the Protector was killed by the usurper, and his sword was lost.”
Aaron was amazed at the tale, and his own heart felt the weight of its truth. With all the apparent evidence supporting the story Garam spun, Aaron knew that his former knowledge of history failed to explain his experiences and paled in comparison with all the information he had gained over the past several months.
Aaron was about to pursue the matter further when Lorik interjected. “Captain, might I suggest that we let it rest for the night and take up our pursuit in the morning. Though it’s always dark down here, I suspect that we’ve covered many miles and are nearing midnight in decent places.” He turned back toward the fire and sat down near it. “Besides,” he continued, “you said that you’re tired. Tomorrow will bring a fresh mind to our situation.”
“You’re right,” Aaron said, and returned to the fire which still crackled and burned in the center of the room. Turning his attention to more immediate concerns he looked at Braden. “What have you in your packs that we could take for a late supper? I’m sure that we all could use a bite of food.” Braden opened his cloak which served as a pack for the food and distributed some of the contents to the others.
With their supper completed, the men were quickly giving in to the weariness of the day. Braden was already fast asleep even as Lorik surrendered to exhaustion with his head slumped over onto his chest. Aaron gazed about their surroundings and determined that it would be no use to try and set a watch for the night.
So far
, he thought,
nothing has hindered our progress, and there are no signs of any other creatures to be wary of
. So he resigned himself to sleep.
Garam, on the other hand, was quite nervous and troubled. He paced around the fire, throwing more fuel on it to bring the flames to a crackling blaze. Often his gaze was turned toward the warning on the wall concerning the guardian. He would ring his hands, muttering to himself about the others being too careless.
Aaron watched this behavior for a time, and then spoke to the troubled dwarf. “Garam,” he said carefully, “you must allow yourself some sleep. Fretting over shadows will only undo your mind. Come, sleep, and let the morning bring with it a greater sense of ease.”
“Captain, you’re a fool!” Garam whispered hoarsely. “Don’t you realize what you’re dealing with here? There are powers at work that are far beyond your limited experience, and you think that they are mere shadows?” His behavior began to turn frantic as he spoke. “For hours now, ever since we entered these forsaken tunnels, I have sensed a growing presence… a watcher following us, staying ever in the shadows until we drop our guard. No, Captain, I will not sleep this night… and come morning if you’re still alive, you will thank me!”
“Garam, you’re panicked… and it’s understandable.” Aaron tried to sound reassuring through his exhaustion. “We are underground, following tunnels made long before any of us were around. It’s only reasonable to feel a little uneasy. But nothing has hindered us, and you’re the only one who senses any suspicious presence. Could it be that you’re just allowing your imagination to overwhelm you?”
Garam shook his head with certainty. “Your interpretation of my anxiety is ill conceived. And I will not subscribe to your indifference concerning our situation.” Garam continued to pace. “Captain, the guardian is real and is watching us. We will not pass through these tunnels before you recognize it. I only hope that you will believe before it’s too late.”
Seeing that it was impossible to deter his companion, Aaron gave way to his own fatigue. “Very well, then, Garam,” he replied, yawning. “You keep watch these next few hours and then wake me. I will watch the remaining hours of the night to allow you some sleep… it is apparent that you need it.” Then Aaron rolled up his cloak for a pillow and gave in to exhaustion.
****
Garam was not so easily persuaded against the sense of danger. As the others slept he kept vigil on the fire, making sure that the flames were high and bright, in a vain attempt to dispel the shadows. He continually peered down the corridor marked by the warning, certain that at any moment some creature or presence would emerge from the darkness to overtake the group. He was certain that, before they entered the long, dark hall, the guardian would block their way. The only hope, he remembered, was to remain together.
But how could that avail
, he thought,
when the others don’t have the same sense of danger that I do?
The night continued to pass slowly in the damp, smoke-filled room. The vent in the ceiling, though allowing much of the billowing smoke to exit, was not sufficient to ventilate the entire chamber. A faint cloud of grey haze formed just above their heads. Garam threw the last of the burnable wood onto the dwindling fire, sending up a shower of embers and renewing the energy of the flames. As the others slept, he sensed even more the presence of some malevolent creature bearing down on him. Panic rose like gall in his throat and he railed against the others as they slept.
“Fine,” he whispered to himself, “let these others perish in this dungeon!” He turned to escape when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of some shadow. It drifted in the darkness just at the edge of the firelight. He could hear the whisper again, and his throat felt parched from the fear that welled up within. He searched left and right, desperate to see the hidden monster in the dark. Nothing. Slowly he crept toward the passage…he must take a closer look.
Behind him, the restful breathing of his sleeping companions did nothing to calm his frayed nerves. He drew his axe from its strap, holding it with both hands as he continued to move closer to the passage opening. He placed the small, glowing illumine-stone onto a ring in his helmet, giving him the opportunity to wield his weapon and still have the advantage of the light. One cautious step after another he crept down the diminutive passage which was no more than five feet wide, and began making his way toward the motion that he thought he saw.
Ahead, in the darkness beyond, Garam saw the glint of a reflection—perhaps the sparkling of some metal object reflected the red light of his glowing stone. He was no more than thirty paces down the passage when he heard the sound of a whisper behind him! Turning, he thought he saw movement. His heart pounded in his chest as he desperately tried to talk himself out of the panic that fought against his dwindling courage. He wanted to cry out, to seek the aid of his companions, but fear silenced him and he took off, running wildly away from their small encampment.
Down the hall he fled, hearing, now, the sound of footsteps echoing behind him. His panic took him farther and farther along the passage and into the darkness. What was once the whisper of breathing now sounded like guttural laughter as the spectral creature mocked him in his flight.
“Gaaaarrraammmm…”
He heard it calling his name, taunting him. A spark of courage, then, flickered in his heart and he stopped. He turned around to face his pursuer.
Garam saw the dark assailant, which looked like a misshapen phantom. An ethereal figure, eyes blazing like blue steel, glowed in the dimly lit corridor. The monster seemed to be of the substance of the shadows itself, blending quickly with the surrounding darkness, impenetrable to the light that shone from Garam’s stone. It reached toward him with hands wielding dark claws that looked as if they had the power to rip flesh from bone.
“What are you?” Garam demanded.
“I am the guardian!” the creature spoke with a voice that seemed to deepen the darkness around him.
Garam trembled as he mustered his words. “Be gone, vile wraith. Be gone or my axe will have its fill of your hide!” He sounded more courageous than his heart felt, but he couldn’t back down now.
The creature replied with mocking laughter. “I am shadow and death. You cannot destroy me for you are not the one!”
Without another word, Garam lunged at the wraith, swinging his axe high over his head. But where his axe should have cleaved the creature in two, he passed right through as though he had only struck the wisp of a cloud. Garam fell to the ground. His small, glowing stone tumbled down the corridor and left him in darkness. Turning, he saw the creature reaching down with its long talons. It picked Garam up by the throat with an inhumanly powerful grip, lifting him off the ground. Garam swung his arms and batted at the creature, but every blow passed through the monster. Garam’s eyes widened with desperate fear. He was powerless against the creature.
With a grip like an iron vice, the wraith laughed at Garam’s vain struggle. “Now comes the end.”
3
A Darkness Revealed
“Captain!” Braden shouted, his voice reverberating in hollow echoes down the tunnels.
Aaron leapt to his feet at Braden’s shout, instinctively reaching for his sword. He found the dwarf dashing from door to door, anxiously looking down each hall and shouting for Garam. “What’s going on?” Aaron demanded, as his heart pounded in his chest with the excitement of the moment.
“It’s Garam… he’s gone!” Braden spoke, his voice quivering in desperation.
“Gone!” he said. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
“I mean, gone!” Braden said anxiously. “There is no sign of him anywhere.”
The noise of Braden and Aaron woke Lorik, and he jumped to his feet. “What’s all the commotion?”
“Garam has disappeared,” Aaron replied as he quickly strapped his sword to his side and began to gather the provisions into his satchel.
“Where would he go?” Lorik asked.
Aaron breathed a heavy sigh, reluctant to tell the other two about his conversation with the dwarf. Realizing, however, that they would not be satisfied without some explanation he spoke. “Last night,” he began, “Garam was quite convinced that we were being stalked by some form of shadow creature—a wraith. From the moment we set foot in these tunnels he was certain that something was watching us.”
“Well,” Lorik said, “I’m sure that we all could feel that way in this damp dungeon.”
“True, but for Garam, it was more than just nerves. He seemed possessed by the idea that some creature was pursuing us,” Aaron replied.
“What if he was right? Perhaps he was taken by a wraith and drug off into some antechamber in these ancient catacombs. How are we ever going to find him?” Braden openly wondered.
Aaron was unsettled by the situation and didn’t like the thought that Garam might have been correct. Since he had dismissed the dwarf’s anxiety as nothing more than an irrational fear, he felt a great sense of responsibility to his aged companion. He looked up at Braden, “We begin to search for him.”
“Which way?” Braden asked. “He could be down any one of these corridors.”
“We’re not going to aimlessly wander through these tunnels,” Aaron said. “We will take the passage that was marked by the warning of the guardian. Garam’s interest in it tells me that this is the way he would go. And if there is a guardian in these dark halls, then that might be the direction to follow. In any event, I suspect that the way out of here is through there,” he said as he pointed to the passage with the dire admonition.
“Great,” Braden said. “It would stand to reason that the one tunnel we might need is the one with the darkest, most ominous warning.”