Chapter 6: Chapter 5, The end and the beginning

Chapter 5, The end and the beginning

 

Zelaria

I step onto the platform last and join the others in inspecting the front of the waystone monolith. This close I can see that there’s a lot more to uncover than the rings of archaic symbols around the top and bottom that could be seen all the way from across the room.

Shimmering lines of sapphire, thin enough to have been made with a pencil, seem to cover the whole monolith like a work of art. Lines that zigzag, turn, bend and split, using both the surface area and depth, combine into mesmerizing shapes and patterns.

To me it looks like each pattern is keyed to a specific symbol on the bottom and each shape keyed to the respective symbol on the top. They keep shimmering in and out existence with each burst from their symbolic counterpart, always reappearing at a different depth into the monolith's swirling material. It is beautiful but at the same time slightly eerie to look at.

“I wouldn’t stare that intensely if I were you, Zelaria.”

I turn to Barhald standing at my left, tilting my head in a silent question.

“It might not do you any harm, seeing as it’s barely hanging on without the dungeon fueling it with mana, flickering on and off as it is, but I still wouldn’t try delving into the machinations of dungeon magic imprinted in soul stone if I were you.”

“Soul stone? Is that the name of the weird material the monolith is made out of?”

“It’s what we adventurers call it, yes. But I have no idea what it actually is. Identifying it doesn’t yield any material information.”

I do exactly that and as he said there’s not much to go on.

 

[Waystone Monolith]

 

“But why soul stone? I mean it looks kind of ethereal but...”

Barhal shudders.

“Just look at it lass. Can’t you feel the eerie vibe it gives off? It’s supposed to get worse the longer you look at it.”

Taking a deep breath and turning his back to it he continues.

“The name soul stone comes from an urban legend amongst adventurers on the creation of the waystone monolith. Don’t you wonder why waystones only show up after the dungeon has managed to build 50 floors? Many adventurers do and as such the theory was born.

It is said that in order to house the complex magical framework of the waystone teleportation system the dungeons need a material resilient enough to take the strain. Couple that with the eerie feeling, otherworldly look of the material and possible resources at the dungeon’s disposal when it has killed enough to build 50 floors and there you go.”

“Soul stone…”

“Aye, soul stone.”

 

He gives me a look that conveys his own belief in said theory and I have to admit, it is quite the theory. I’m not sure if I’m entirely sold on it but it would explain the look and feel of the monolith. And if the dungeon is confirmed to be able to modify living souls by implanting waystone keys, why not be able to collect the souls of the deceased?

The more I learn of this monolith the more I want to study it. I know I can’t even begin to understand even the surface layer of this magical device, and I shouldn’t if I want to remain sane according to Barhald, but just taking in the intricate artwork as a whole without trying to delve deeper is fascinating enough.

 

I move away from the front where the others remain, sharing their own theories and lore regarding dungeon waystones, and look at its right side. It’s more of the same patterns and shapes but everything looks unique enough in its placement that I suspect that they all combine into a single whole instead of many separate parts as I first thought.

Wanting to get a better picture of what this singular whole magical artwork might look like I check the left side of the monolith before moving on to the back. There I run into a bit of a snag. The pile of modules for the modular floor guide are piled up against the back of the monolith, blocking it from view. I try moving one of the smaller modules but it barely budges.

I might be near the peak in strength of someone without a class but that’s not saying much. I conclude that moving solid pieces of magic alloy heavier than Howard isn’t going to be a solid plan of action. Nothing else to see from this height I start climbing the pile and get a few amused glances from my party.

Standing at the pile of modules with one leg and one booted foot placed on the monolith’s top I gaze at the intricate piece of magical architecture. I won’t be able to see more of it without a whole day's effort excavating the monolith’s back but I’m not that interested in it. This is enough.

 

“Alright team enough staring at the creepy smoke stone or whatever, it’s probably a good time for a little break and lunch.”

“Yes boss, all the running and burning of killer vines has given me quite the appetite.”

“Aye and I could also use a proper rest to get rid of the last of the debuffs from my use of [Berserk] earlier.”

“Good. How about the rest of you? Howard, Mister Mason, Jake and Zelaria? Do you agree to eat your lunch now? We probably won’t be able to rest at regular intervals considering the chaotic nature of this place. I’d rather have us topped off before moving on if it’s all the same to you.”

Mister Mason grumbles a little about not feeling like eating yet but we all agree with different levels of enthusiasm. I’m personally stoked to get some grub since I’m the weakest here and practically bled to death half an hour ago. Jake seems perfectly neutral to the idea while Howard is positively beaming.

 

I can’t be bothered to delay my lunch by making my way down to the others and instead take my backpack off and sit myself down cross legged on top of the monolith. Summoning a piece of dried meat from the storage ring I start chewing away in pleasure.

It’s not like it's good or anything but food is food. I’m almost a philosopher if I do say so myself.

We all chat a little about this and that. Exclaim about what we’ve seen so far and what we expect to encounter next. The atmosphere is relaxed and everyone seems to be enjoying the downtime before the next bloody encounter. We’re all quite sure there’s a lot of more nasty stuff beneath us on the lower floors.

 

Finishing my third piece of dried meat I wash it down with some water before tidying up after myself. That luckily only constitutes putting the waterskin back in the storage ring since I’ve always hated cleaning after eating a good meal.

Feeling out my newly restored gums with a still slightly numb tongue I notice a few unflattering pieces of dried meat stuck between my front teeth. I sigh in consternation and not even bothering to hide my barbaric actions from Julie, start picking my teeth with a fingernail.

She gives me a look that conveys a whole paragraph of reasons why she can’t stand me and my mannerism. Is she so fixated on how I behave because she knows she’ll never win over me in appearance?

That actually makes some sense. Though why does she even care? I can’t wrap my head around it so I simply flick the piece of meat from my fingernail in her direction, grin and lean back. I place my hands on the soul stone while lowering myself onto my back, planning to take a quick nap to sleep off the food coma and energize.

Before my mind can even decide if the surface my palms are placed against is cold or hot, smooth or rough, soft or hard, slick or sticky I realize this to be the first time I actually touch the monolith with bare skin. The first time any of us touch it in fact.

I hadn't really thought about it since no one seemed to mind me eating my lunch on top of it. Though I got a few looks of disapproval from Barhald who seemed to think sitting on solidified souls of dead adventurers was some sort of sacrilege. It’s not like I disagree with him per se but without proof of his theory being accurate I’ll do as I please.

 

Feeling slightly alarmed when my mind still hasn’t decided on what I’m touching after having had skin contact with the soul stone for more than five seconds I move my arms to raise my hands away from the surface, noticing that my hands won’t budge from where I placed them. I really start panicking now and Julie's voice only makes it worse.

“What’s going on? The waystone stabilized itself? But where is the power coming from?”

During Julie’s confused ramblings I notice how my mana has started rapidly draining through my hands into the monolith. Instead of letting me go after draining every last drop I have, the feeling of confusion the soul stone surface imprints on the nerves in my palms only grows. It feels like I’m touching both everything in existence and the absence of everything at the same time.

The magical framework appears to find something in me to work with as a substitute for my mana. It grabs a hold of it with the seeming strength of everything that was, is and will be while devouring it with the fervor that only the void could ever muster. I’ve never felt such pain before.

I scream.

 

It is torment on a level beyond anything one should be able to endure. My mind is fraying while struggling to keep itself intact and not simply break apart to ease, remove and forget the pain. It would be so easy to just relax and let my mind break, to end it all forever.

I thrash around on top of the monolith, kicking away my bag and sending it flying by accident, not that I could care any less. I’m in a realm of my own. A prison of pain and inescapable torment. Arching my back I dig in my fingers trying desperately to free myself but not doing anything other than tearing tendons, muscles and breaking my finger bones against the soul stone.

I scream, and scream barely drawing breath while muscle spasms and contractions of my own dislocate a shoulder, break an elbow, unhinge my jaw and so much more. There is only pain and me, me and my pain, whatever came first. I don’t really know how to tell them apart anymore.

And then the pain is gone.

Or am I gone?

Was the pain me all along?

I’m lying on my back, still as death, in a sprawled heap of limbs and bones pointing in directions they shouldn’t go. A confusing feeling washes over my body while I lay there. It’s not really hurting me in any way but it feels crushing all the same. Like my body being in a space too small for its size but still not suffering for it.

Is this spatial magic?

I can’t really say what made me think it was spatial magic but my exhausted and nearly broken mind grabs a firm hold on that concept. It was something Zelaria had heard about before.

Zelaria?

 

Zelaria! That’s my name! I remember it now. I’m not the pain, I can’t be. But pain is still part of me isn’t it? I think that makes sense.

Oh wow, isn’t this interesting, the space I occupy is collapsing in on itself. Won’t I die from this? Maybe. A crack in the monolith appearing with a thunderclap is my only answer.

 

I made it through! I think? I’m sure I’m not in the same place any longer. The ceiling here is all dark but I can tell it’s a different color because I’m almost touching it with my nose.

No, that's not true anymore. Am I falling?

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I am! The ceiling must be quite high if I can pick up this much speed.

 

I’m not falling anymore. The ceiling has stopped running from me. Has it regained its nerve? A delirious giggle tries to escape my mouth but my lungs and abdomen have problems of their own it seems. I only get a mouthful of hot liquid drooling down the sides of my mouth as a reward for trying.

Mildly curious as to why I can’t breathe, I bend my neck forwards to look down on my stomach. I don’t manage to bend it very far, it doesn’t seem to want to listen to me any more. Maybe I should buy a new one? Hmm, a thought for another day. Right now I want to inspect this curiously sharp object that’s sticking out of my chest. Is it a pointy pyramid? No, it continues down far beneath me before becoming another pyramid.

The funny markings scribbled all over the surface are starting to light up with a red glow where all this liquid is getting sucked into it. Fascinating. But is the shape of my impromptu bed even real? It seems strange.

Oh right, I remember, it’s called an octahedron! Mother always told me shapes were important. I guess she was right.

Mother…

Where are you mother? I’m cold.

 

Everything goes black.

 

---

 

One month ago.

 

Julie

“I’m serious! It’s totally a hidden gem of a restaurant. Delicious food, alcohol, pipeweed and good music, all for reasonable prices.”

I stare at Mister suspiciously. That sounds too good to be true and I’m not sure if he’s exaggerating, hiding another agenda.

“Come on, Julie. I’ll buy you a drink when we get there. We should eat somewhere else before departing.”

“I agree with Ormar. The Adventurers Guild usually has good food and fairly reasonable prices but I’d like to eat somewhere else for once. It would be a good way to cement our departure, create one last memory here before starting our journey. Or what do you say, Jake?”

Barhald says, looking at Jake with a smile and only getting a silent stare back. Did he honestly expect an answer from him? I throw my hands up in defeat, surrendering to the majority vote.

“Fine. Show the way, Mister.”

 

The restaurant on the outskirts of the outer district of the capital is exactly as Mister said, he might even have downplayed the place a little. It’s located underneath a cluster of wide houses on the basement level, stone steps leading down from the street. The room has the pleasant combined aroma of pipeweed, alcoholic drinks and food.

A bard is skillfully plucking a stringed instrument in a volume just high enough to be heard over the sounds of conversation, laughter, clinking cutlery and wooden mugs.

It isn’t exactly packed but there’s only a few empty tables left and we make ourselves towards one of them close to the center. Seating myself with my back to the bar where the loudest crowd of drinking and smoking patrons play a drinking game I catch the eye of a pretty barmaid taking orders between tables.

She comes over to us as we all finish seating ourselves.

“Welcome, can I take your order? Today’s meal is beef stew with bread and garlic butter for 35 copper.”

 

We all order an ale and a portion of the delicious smelling food, soon having drinks, a bowl of warm stew and half a loaf of bread each, the slab of garlic butter placed in the middle of the table accessible to all of us. It tastes as good as it smells and I’m honestly delighted that Mister recommended this place. The atmosphere is quite nice and the prices were indeed reasonable.

“I’ll go and get that drink I promised you. What do you want, Julie?”

I consider his question as he stands up after only having tasted a spoonful of the stew. He had said he’d get me a drink and I suppose it won’t hurt taking him up on that offer.

 

---

I never should have taken him up on that offer.

Staring at the woman standing next to Ormar in disbelief I work my jaw soundlessly. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A little shorter than Ormar, close to 170 centimeters in height if I had to guess with an hourglass figure emphasizing her heart shaped backside, slim waist and firm, large bust, albeit manageable size.

Her eye’s are a sparkling golden color, showing a curious expression as they pan over each of us in turn, elegant and dark eyebrows rising slightly at my stupefied expression. Curving the red and lush lips gently upwards on one side she brushes a loose lock of white hair behind her right ear. I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not as the rest of her snow white hair is styled in an elegant and simple bun behind her head. It’s definitely working for her though.

 

“Hi! I’m Zelaria. Ormar wanted to introduce his party after hearing about my search for employment. Seeing you all have me curious though, care to introduce yourselves?”

As the goddess finishes her short introduction Ormar summons a chair from nowhere before gently helping her into it, seating himself besides her. His eyes roam all over her, the lecherous dog, and I’m irritated to notice that he hasn’t even placed the drink he promised me within my reach. Has he already found a new woman to please?

The others don’t seem to mind her butting in at all and they introduce themselves in turn, quickly getting to making comfortable small talk as she laughs at their jokes while smoking her pipe. In less than five minutes no one from the other tables would be able to tell that she’s practically a stranger. She seamlessly integrated herself into our group as if filling a void of her own making, being a welcome addition instead of a foreign intruder.

 

The worst part? I can’t even refuse her company after she’s made her employment pitch. Everyone else seems fine with hiring her as a temporary hauler for the expedition and as party leader and a woman I can’t be seen turning down another woman looking to join. This is so fucking frustrating!

Rejecting her without having a seemingly good reason will cause the rumor mill to start in high gear. I have no other recourse than to reluctantly agree to employ her as I won’t allow myself to be known as one of those free-use sluts who wrap their party around the finger by being the only woman available and always willing.

I won’t sully my name like that, both for my own sake and for Howard. It’s been years since I last lost myself completely and I can’t let him down again. I know he'll pull me back if it ever goes too far but just being seated at the same table as her already has me concerned. Will I have a relapse from this?

What if she becomes a permanent member? The others let me have the honor of leading them as they don’t want the responsibility and pressure of taking command and I’ve been really happy with the attention it has given me. What if she wants to lead as well? Will they all abandon me for her?

 

Howard, probably sensing my distress, gives me a concerned look but I subtly shake my head. This isn’t the time to talk about it and I have no other choice than trying to push through. Since I was the one who found the record of the forgotten and abandoned dungeon I’ll probably be able to keep my role as party leader during this expedition. I’ll have to tackle any problems occurring after that when the time comes. I can’t let myself spiral out of control…

---

 

Half a minute ago.

 

Did she just flick whatever she scavenged from her teeth at me? She did! That grin of hers tells it all. I need to find something to kill or else I might just strangle Zelaria to vent out my frustration.

She started acting with a little more impudence when we reached the dungeon. She must’ve grown bored when I didn’t put her in her place often enough, the masochist. It’s just too difficult to find an opening to strike where the others can’t come to her defense but I’ll get her this time no matter what. I can’t let her throw leftovers in my direction when giving me that nasty grin after all.

I scheme and watch as Zelaria lowers herself to her back and I know what needs to be done. When she has fully settled into her relaxation I can command us to continue delving, getting a shot at berating her when she doesn’t respond fast enough. The others won’t even be able to complain that I’m being unreasonable since I never told them to settle in to sleep. One should never let down their guard that easily in a dungeon without planning and preparation.

 

I get distracted from my scheming when the monolith suddenly stops flickering and flares to life. I don’t understand what’s going on but the eerie feeling washing over me from the monolith's direction gets my mouth going to articulate my confusion. Apparently Zelaria notices something as well as she sits bolt upright with a panicked look in her eyes while pulling on her arms as if they are stuck. Which they apparently were.

I scramble backwards in horror as Zelaria lets out a tormented, haunting scream. All of us are backpedaling on all fours to get away from the monolith as the eerie feeling starts washing over us in ever increasing waves of strength, monolith pulsating.

“What happened?”

“The monolith is activating?”

“Why is Zelaria screaming? We must do something to help her!”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Questions and statements such as these gush from the party as we continue to back away from the scene. I’m about to suggest we grab her and forcefully pull her down when Zelaria starts spasming and writhing in place. We all go quiet and watch with wide eyed horror as she throws herself like a trapped beast in all directions.

Limbs breaking, joints popping, tendons snapping and muscles tearing. I’m sure no human mouth is supposed to be able to stretch that far and am proven right as a visible snap and audible pop dislocates her jaw. Streaks of blood pour from her eyes and splatter across her cheeks with the constant jerks of her neck.

It seems to go on forever but I’m not sure how long it actually lasts. I watch the bone in Zelaria's right arm break through the skin and splatter streams of blood across the girl's face before she finally goes silent. Zelaria collapses and lays entirely still. She isn’t even breathing anymore.

 

“Is she dead?”

Before anyone can answer my hesitant question delivered in a trembling voice the air seems to distort around Zelaria's sprawling body. With a booming thunderclap a large crack appears in the monolith, running like a lightning bolt through the stone, and she is gone. Not even a speck of blood remaining behind.

The monolith makes a slight buzz, flickers and then turns off. No more archaic symbols, no more shifting lines of glowing patterns, no more eerie feeling and no more Zelaria. We share a silent moment of confusion before Ormar breaks it with a shaking voice.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

 

No one answers. No one has an answer to give. It takes a whole minute before I get a hold of myself and even though I just want to pack it up and hightail it out of here I know we can’t give up this easily. The death of a single temporary party member is not enough to satiate the adventurer greed of a party as seasoned as ours.

Ormar might be hard to convince to continue delving but I know we can’t lose anyone else on this expedition and we can’t return empty handed. I might just have to give him some physical comfort tonight, not going all the way of course. A fellatio should suffice for now, making him want for more. I’ll get this party back in high spirits even if my dignity has to suffer for it...

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