My favourite chapter in a while. Hope you like it!
Hump gazed up at the great doors, head tilted back, stroking his chin wizardly and trying to focus through his tiredness. So far, the Book of Infinite Pages hadn’t been the slightest bit of help, and he couldn’t understand why. There was no doubt, this door was forged by the gods. Thousands of runes coated its surface, all of them etched in gold, and all of them God Glyphs.
His book should have recognised something, so why was it idle?
He wondered if the door had some mechanism to defeat such things, but it didn’t make sense. Even if his spellbook couldn’t analyse the door fully, it could surely interpret some of the God Glyphs. Hump didn’t recognise them all, but many had been deciphered in the pursuit of spellcraft. He recognised enough to know he wasn’t wrong, and his book had never had issues deciphering them in the past when it came to blessings. Something was off. It was more intricate than he’s ever seen God Glyphs in the past, yet that still didn’t explain it.
He searched for anything that caught his eye, but the doors were so complex he didn’t know where to start. They were formed from to slabs of dark metal, each as tall as a city gate. It was no easy feat to examine it. The material drank in both the light and essence of any spells he put on it. Veins of gold traced elaborate paths across the metal, forming a web that linked twelve spherical mechanisms embedded across the doors, with a thirteenth, larger sphere seated precisely at the seam where the two doors met. Each sphere housed an essence stone, and every one of them burned bright with power. Two metal rings spun slowly around each of them, their combined motion like a sphere, somehow conducting the essence and forming it into a transparent orb of light.
A thicker channel of gold extended from the central sphere to either side, like a massive locking bar securing the doors into the frame. Even that was lavishly adorned in a ring of ornamental spires, sceptre-like protrusions, and layers upon layers of God Glyphs worked into every part of the surface.
The runes focused on the central sphere. There, a greater circular formation of god glyphs stood out most of all. It mirrored the structure of a Chosen’s blessings—nine thin rings arranged concentrically. The innermost was a single, unbroken line of glyphs—just like the first major blessings. The next split cleanly in two—two minor blessings. And the third divided into three. Then the pattern repeated outward, major and minor lines woven together to form a whole. Considering the similarly to Chosen, Hump was fairly confident that the major blessings acted as a foundation of sorts for the rest of the array to function. Whether that had anything to do with getting the damned thing open or not, he wasn’t sure.
Thin seams of light bled between the runes, glowing faintly in various different essences, constantly shifting and pulsing, ever changing. The colours overlapped and blended, washing the surface of the doors in a subtle sheen.
Hump reached out and placed his hand against the runes. The metal was icy cold. Not merely cool, but utterly inert. No warmth, no sense of power. Nothing. He activated Spirit Sight again, trying to see anything he might have missed before. Essence from the surrounding space was being drawn inward, siphoned steadily through the doors toward whatever was draining the entire tower. Yet despite the sheer volume of power flowing through the structure, there was nothing coming back. No presence or pressure at all. Just an absence.
There were faint flashes of power along the mechanisms themselves, especially around the slowly turning golden rings, and similar traces threaded through the surrounding walls. The intent here was overwhelming, just like the stone around the hydra’s lair. It was too dense for him to piece, no matter how he probed, and he didn’t even bother trying to burrow through.
“Any progress?” Dylan asked. “You look lost.”
He and the others had been working to get the essence stone out of the hydra. Partially for the loot, but mostly to make sure it was well and truly dead. The others were approaching too with ten essence stones—it seemed it had more than just the one.
“I feel lost,” Hump said. “It’s so complex, I don’t even know where to start without my spellbook. Loften said it was the key, but I don’t get it. You see the shifting essence in the runes?”
Dylan nodded. “It’s changing nature.”
“I think so. And if the state of the runes is changing, that means that the way to open it would change too. At least, it does in my head. Even if I deciphered it one moment, what goods it going to be if the locking mechanism is constantly shifting?”
Dylan frowned at Hump. “Is that even possible?”
Hump shrugged. “No idea. Not sure how else to explain it though. Normal arrays don’t go from fire to water to darkness in a single breath.”
Dylan hummed. “That’s a tough one.” The druid played his good arm to the door, palm outstretched, probing just as Hump did.
“You’ll get it open,” Bud said, coming to stand beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You always do.”
Hump let out a breath and gave an apprehensive shake of his head, eyes glossing over the runes for the hundredth time. “I don’t know about this one. This isn’t something I can simply decipher. If the Book of Infinite Pages has nothing to offer, I could spend a hundred years down here and be just as lost. It’s made me wonder if the creator of the door never intended for it to open at all.”
“In that case, why make doors instead of just a wall?” Celaine said.
“No idea,” Hump said. “Maybe they needed an entrance to get Loften inside and this was easier than building the wall afterward. Then lock the door and seal it shut forever.”
Celaine scrunched her nose. “Don’t think so. Doors are meant to be opened. If it’s got a door, it’s got a key. And you’ll figure it out.”
“I wish I had as much confidence in myself as you two do.”
“We all do,” Emilia said. “That’s what we’re here for. You tell us what you need, and we’ll make sure it’s done.”
“For now, just make sure those spectres stay in the hole and don’t come down here. And give me time to think.”
“Spectre watch is still ongoing,” Celaine said. “Don’t worry about a thing. Nishari hasn’t taken her eyes off them anyway.”
Hump glanced over at the dragon, lazily splayed over the floor on her side, one eye half open and watching the spectres above. “Yeah… not so sure about that.”
Celaine snorted. “Okay, I’ll keep an eye out too.”
“You sure we can’t help more?” Emilia asked.
Hump shook his head. “Loften said my book is the key. Just give me some time.”
“I sense Loften in this,” Dylan said, furrowing his brow.
“Me too.” Hump nodded.
“But why would Loften help to forge his own prison?” Dylan asked.
Hump raised an eyebrow. “That’s a good question. We’re beneath the Maker’s Tower. It’s possible that Loften built this himself, and that the rest of the Pantheon initially leant him their power. Perhaps this prison was intended for someone else.”
“Is it possible the old gods are behind there?” Celaine asked. “I know destroying the Twelve Seals were meant to reveal the Path to Heaven and all, but maybe we took it too literally.”
Frowning, Hump glanced over at the rest of his party. “No, right?”
“Absolutely not,” Bud said. “How would that even work?”
“Loften could be sealed in there with them,” Emilia suggested. “I don’t think so though. If this was the prison of the old gods, I think we’d see more signs of the Pantheon. Also, Loften is the only god worshipped in this world. Why would it only be him that could appear beyond the doors?”
“But if not the old gods, who else would Loften build a prison for?” Celaine asked.
“Powerful people have no end to their enemies,” Emilia said. “Maybe he simply had a prison beneath his tower.”
Hump rubbed at his chin again. He had a little stubble, but it was hardly a wizard’s beard.
Dylan whipped his hand back from the door and stumbled back a step.
They all stared at him.
“Are you alright?” Hump asked.
“I sensed something,” Dylan said softly. “Another power in the door—one I do not recognise.
Hump frowned. “What? Are you sure?”
Dylan nodded. “Try for yourself. Try for yourself, but there is something strange in there. It felt contradictory to nature essence, and hungry for it. I suddenly felt it draining me.”
He reached for the door again, searching for the essence Dylan spoke of. He sensed the Pantheon—Light most of all, radiant at the centre, Imira, Emirai, Rathlar, Kelisia, Ordana, Sumi, Seres, Byzantius, Osidium, Vesta, and Loften. The Twelve were there, so obvious that Hump hadn’t bothered to look deeper, but there it was. A thirteenth power, hungry and dark, absorbing the intent that Hump fed the door in such a way that it was almost invisible.
“I feel it,” Hump said. “I can’t believe I missed it.”
“Any idea what it is?”
“Not what,” Hump said. “Who. Uvdar—the Thirteenth God. The Fallen.”
“It cannot be,” Bud said. “Why would the Pantheon work with him?”
Hump’s heart was racing as everything fell into place, excitement and dread filling him at once. “Do you remember the story Owalyn told me before Celaine and I left Drakalyn? About the Wandering Wizard—Samuel Durain—and the creator of the Book of Infinite Pages.”
Their attention was on him fully, but Hump barely paid it attention. He opened his spellbook, finding the page with Owalyn’s chant, and then he repeated it for all to hear:
“Remember now the thirteen thieves,Imira stole the moon and stars,Emirai claimed the spark of life,Rathlar embraced the dark of death,Kelisia usurped the throne of winter, Ordana seized summer and flame,Seres pilfered the wind and storms,While Sumi took the depths of the ocean,Byzantius seized his battle cry,Loften the art of craft and runes,Vesta his language and luck,Osidium his secrets of stone,Light, who snatched the secrets of day and night,And then there is Uvdar, greediest of all, whose hunger stole his sacred soul.”
“The story speaks of the Twelve,” Hump continued, “along with Uvdar, capturing the Wandering Wizard and each stealing a piece of his power. What if this is where they imprisoned him? A prison forged by Loften that combined all their powers.”
Silence gripped them all.
Bud’s face was dark. Hump knew what this meant for his friend. When he had first told him about the story, Bud had denied it. Even after he had come around to the idea of understanding the mystery, Bud still didn’t believe it to be true. He trusted in his gods—in Kelisia. But there would be no denying it anymore if this proved true.
“Does this help us get the door open?” Bud asked.
“If it’s true, then it answers one question…” Hump stared at the Book of Infinite Pages. “The story doesn’t end with the imprisonment of the Wandering Wizard. It was Glyndaril, the Silver Owl, that rescued him, and as they fled, he was slain. If I’m right, Glyndaril has breached this door before. The reason my book isn’t helping me isn’t because it can’t. It’s because Glyndaril knows what this door is, and he wants to make sure it stays shut.”