It will continue as long as it is permitted: I'm glad to hear you are enjoying it.
The more one works on a saga of this scale, the more one appreciates the efforts of professional writers.

Edit added: and any published ones as well. How anyone can write a book w/o pulling their hair out is past me.

 

I will refrain from groaning. It will be difficult, but I will do my best to refrain ...
Oh, THWI ...
... groan

 

It will be worth the wait...

 

₰₰ Book One: Chapter Sixteen ₰₰


​

For days they had explored one tunnel after another; passed through cavern chambers large and small; found a underground lake of utterly still water so vast the far end could not be seen; marveled at great columns of great flowstone eternally still, and a thousand other wonders which they had never conceived of. Despite all of this, and the fact they had run into no opposition, the companions remained on vigilant edge. For at each twist in a passage, each new intersection, each new chamber, they knew death could be upon them in a heartbeat.

As they neared another intersection, Nelson paused, closed his eyes and focused upon the four orbs of ghostly blue-white light which floated about his being. He commanded the orbs to divide into pairs and proceed down each new passage; then studied intently the mental images conveyed by them until they reached the outer limit of the spells range. Another command caused them to float back, and join him again in less than a minute.

Nelson sighed, looked to one stone wall and nodded as his grip tightened on his rams-head staff. “All clear to the left and right. There are fresh tracks and scuff marks upon the stone walls and floor; the left hand passage is boulder strewn about a hundred paces down, while the right zigzag’s around until a deep shaft opens up with some alacrity.”

Near the intersection, camouflaged by her cloaks incredible magic, Elsa held both axes against her chest, all of her preternaturally keen senses alert to the slightest sign of danger. She agreed with Nelsons conclusion and willed her cloaks magic to cease, thus rendering her visible once again. With a look of delight she said to her lover: “So which way? Boulders to climb over or a deep shaft to unknown dooms far, far below, or do you think there is another way to go?”

With a shrug of his shoulders Nelson said to her: “You’re call; this is one area you have more expertise than I do in old tunnels and such. Last time we ran into stuff like this was near the abyss which we found the first set of doors. Does the journal speak about this area, or some portion we can use as a reference? Not that it will be of much good, given the confounded layer in layer in layer of confusion the writer used to secure his secrets.”

Elsa playfully scuffed his hair and put her forehead to his. “Don’t be so gloomy Nelson. I know how bad this region is gnawing on you. It’s doing the same to me and Chipper. Now, as to the journal itself, some entries do describe this area. Most of it is a curious sequence of geological notes concerning the strata of rocks, minerals, and so much more. It also notes that the only sources of palatable water are small freshwater springs located in ‘diverse and sheltered shrines, hidden chambers, and in areas where to ascend you must descend.’ Of another matter, references were made of a chain of battles against monsters galore, and the one called ‘Old Sparky.’”

Nelson closed his eyes and silently nodded his head, then said: “If by chance the author was Master Aden, from what you have told me of him, the fights must have been cataclysmic. Which, if so, would explain many of the collapsed halls, chambers, and sundered regions of stone we have found; so what are the clues he may have left for us to follow up?”

Elsa pulled the journal out and opened it to a marked page and said to Nelson: “Let me read some of them. Your guess right now is as good as mine; and when we find a sheltered area I want to go over them with a fine comb for the hidden meanings…”

She read aloud: “Soft flowers which are not, eggs never laid, stream of glass which never have seen the sun or worked by mortal hands from ages past. Cauldrons from the deep boil, where foul odors sleep; never strike an open flame or cause an ember to explain, for the results, as I did discover, were most unpleasant. In the shrines first, fourth, seventh I found the path to walk for the Silk Road indicates the way through the nightmares which cannot be kept at bay.”

“Great, it sounds more and more like we are following the trail of a madman,” Nelson grinned and continued, “of course, being an illusionist, which probably makes me the maddest for following his trail.”

Elsa chuckled and said, “Here is another one: Unliving webs spun by unliving hands. Individual small and easy to stop; untied in one, many bodies, one union; the communion of the mass is bypassed with the gibberish that knows no comprehension. Here I found the minions of one called Mechanus, who proved to be a most crafty and ingenious of foes for the few seconds it, took me to destroy his assembled army; encased in the flowstone of midnight glass, he may find his way free in a hundred years.”

Elsa looked at Nelson and asked, “Do you want me to continue?” When he nodded she read: To find the twain which is hidden, strive forward with boldness, confidence, and assurance not born of pride, arrogance nor of recklessness; for to pass through is to endure much, and thus to grow much; for in the last, that which is of the simple shall reveal the complex, and the hands of friendship shall allow all to pass.”

“Here he speaks of another creature, one that sounds like a living dead…” Elsa shook her head, “It specifies an area of magic being twisted or distorted, often in contradictory ways. ‘In the whirlwind of coloration I did find the recharge mage. For many days we did battle time and again, neither gaining the upper hand until at long last I discovered the truth of what is false: this is the key to defeating the blasted thing, in which deception is made real and real is phantasm, as etheric as the will’o’wisp that is seen but not perceived until it kills.”

“Wonderful,” Nelson said as he rubbed his tired eyes. “How much else is there to confound us to no end on this part of the Labyrinth? And how many surprises are in store for us, considering we have not confronted any of the monstrosities that have to be here?”

Elsa swallowed and looked at him with consternation on her face, “About three-hundred or so pages. The author mentioned that this section of the Labyrinth is ‘the turning point.’ So I have the feeling we are here for some time to come.”

“Great, just great,” Nelson mumbled to himself. He started to speak again, paused, sniffed the air and gave a puzzled look at Elsa. “Do you smell roses and lilies? It’s faint, but distinct.”

₰


​

Hidden away in a nearby rat-tunnel, one of hundreds which honeycombed the region, twin ruby-red facetted eyes watched over Elsa and Nelson.

Unlike mortal versions of its kind, the diabolic serpent listened with keen interest upon their conversation, and understood the danger these two represented. For at their mention of the scent of lilies and roses, it knew they were being guided by someone or something to the ancient shrine, a true bastion of goodness and holiness none of its kind could approach or defile.

It focused its will and telepathically called to its liege lord, who saw and heard all that it did. “My lord, these are two of the intruders present in the passages and caverns. They have scented the ancient shrine which is in the north-eastern region near the Howling Delve.”

Its mouth opened, fangs descending as they dripped acidic venom that smoked and hissed upon hitting the floor.

“Deal with them, finish them if possible, otherwise injure one and buy us the time to bypass the Guardians minions. I will have their riches for my own and will promote you to an evolved form of your choice on our success,” responded its liege lord, the one known as Scorpios.

The serpent and its master failed to detect the other being which prepared a deadly response just inches away.

“Thank you my liege, I shall…ACK!” The serpents words ended in a blaze of pain and steaming blood as it thrashed and rolled about for many minutes, the crushing bite of its assailant unrelenting, until, at long last, it passed from the land of the living.

Cleaning his mouth and forepaws of the serpent blood, grimacing at the malignant taste and corrupt odors that assailed his senses, he gave off a grand old grin. He allowed himself to indulge a bit and danced, whooped and gyrated around in regard to his latest victory and declared, “That is three snakes today, and a dozen and five brimstone rats!”

“Now to tell the others of what I have found!” he said and raced off in an excited blur of motion.

In his haste to rejoin Nelson and Elsa, Chipper failed to sense the other beings which followed. Born of living shadow and nightmares given life, the cloakers contacted their master, the Guardian. They had been instructed not to hound, harm, or be seen by the three companions; only to observe, report, and screen them as best as they could from many of the deadliest foes in the region.

Above all, they were to ensure that the companions found one of the many shrines of goodness in the region.

“Guardian,” the eldest cloaker declared, “They are close to the shrine. The small squirrel has encountered at least one minion of Scorpios; it may have had time to report the companion’s position. We shall continue to watch and screen, as you have charged us to do.”

The Guardians response was instantaneous, “Good. If Scorpios advances then deal with his minions if you are able to safely do so; otherwise, the companions will be tested against him in full measure. In that case, we shall at long last be rid of that menace once and for all.”

₰


​

Elsa lifted her head and inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and mulled the sensations over in her mind. Then, as she opened her eyes, she grinned, nodded and contently purred, her tail swishing in excited anticipation, and said: “You’re right; that and fresh water, pure and clear as that flowing off a glacier with the first heat of spring. It’s coming from the left, somewhere past the boulder-field.”

“Figures, always beyond the worst terrain we can encounter.” Nelson sighed and muttered a string of blatantly powerful curses that would make a drill sergeant proud. He blushed at the shocked look upon Elsa’s face and gave her an apology, “Sorry Elsa, I’m just tired to the bone and sick to the depths of my soul of this Labyrinth. Something tells me this region is going to push us to the limits of our endurance and demand even more. Look around us and tell me if I am wrong?”

Elsa nodded, completely aware of why Nelson was so disgruntled. “I understand; the entire stone around us is imbued with a strange radiance; hence the reason a half-twilight permeates the region. What’s eating at you is the way it alters the magic you, I and even Chipper, command; one place, it is strengthened; another, and it will not work at all; in yet another place, it works fine or goes completely wild.”

“Yes,” Nelson said, “and even the mind magic we command, or at least with me, are dampened. I’ve tried to mind touch you three times this last hour with no results.”

Elsa chewed on her lip while she mulled this over. “Not good, not good at all. My link with Chipper is still firm and he has grown excited over some thing or other…” she shook her head and gestured with a nod down the left hand passage, “and as usual, he has gotten ahead of us via some rat-tunnels.”

“This day keeps getting better and better,” Nelson said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “We may have foes in the region, and a mystery before us. Now Chipper has discovered who knows what and may unleash another cataclysmic maelstrom upon us as he has done twice before…”

Elsa sympathized with Nelson, her own nerves frayed from the constant need to stay alert, and from the hunger which grew without respite.

Chipper, arriving in a whirlwind of insane energy, interrupted: “How about we go to the old shrine I found?”

He leaped onto Elsa’s shoulder and grinned, and pointed down the left hand passage, “In that tunnel, about a quarter-mile away I found a shrine linked to the unending rat-tunnels. There is a hidden door concealed by a magical illusion. Before you ask Nelson, the shrine is dedicated to the cause of ‘good’ and of ‘law and order’ as mortals define such concepts. There is a freshwater spring within that smells of lilies and roses: it has healing magic and probably other abilities to be discovered.”

“I think we can use it as a secure base to explore this region until we find the next set of double doors.” Chipper grinned and continued. “There were some brimstone rats in the region, but they will not bother anyone again: nor that fourth giant cobra which followed…BURP!”

Elsa softly laughed as Chipper quickly covered his mouth and gave an abashed look at her and Nelson.

Nelson gave the squirrel a sardonic grin, “Great, now we have a carnivorous squirrel…”

Elsa rolled her eyes at the antics of her spirit-companion. “Chipper, if this ‘shrine’ is another joke on your part I will make you pay dearly for it. Right now, I’m tired, irritated, and covered in more mud and grime than I have been in ages.” She glared at the squirrel as he prepared to make a sarcastic little quip and stated, “one joke or mention of me and Nelson rolling in the mud and I feed you to the next giant cobra first handed!”

Chipper held his paws before him in a gesture of surrender and said, “Whoa Elsa, whoa! I didn’t mean to cause any such offense.” Puzzled by her suddenly foul temperament, he leaned forward and touched her cheek and her forehead with his forepaws; he cringed, startled by the fierce fire raging just under her skin, amazed that she had managed to stay on her feet for so long! “Blast it Elsa, why did you not tell me you had taken on a fever the last few days? I could have done something by now, but…”

Chipper squealed and struggled on his feet as Elsa shook her head, slumped back against the wall, and struggled to secure her axes on her belt. “I’m fine Chipper; I just need to find a spot to rest for a few hours. This place is getting to me as much as it is Nelson; maybe more so.” She braced herself with both hands, swallowed hard and began to shake as rivulets of sweat began to flow on her face and neck. “Now, let’s find that shrine and…”

The world began to spin around her and, surrendering to the inevitable, she yielded a soft, gentle, desperate little mewling cry. She heard Nelson call out to her and the rustle of his feet as he rushed to her side, but too late to keep her from falling to the ground. Her last conscious thought was for him, as she telepathically touched his mind with “I love you…” and then the darkness claimed her for its own.

Dropping to his knees Nelson touched Elsa’s cheek and cringed, his hand red from the fury which blazed from inside her body. “Blast it, what is going on here Chipper? She seemed fine until just a moment ago, and can’t you heal her, or just do something? For the Angelic beings sake, you’re supposed to be a priest, do something before she burns up?”

Chipper looked at Nelson and shook his head, “I cannot do anything Nelson. She fights against a darkness that I am powerless to confront. Long ago she forbade me to even try; and hence, by the magic which bonded me to her as a spirit-companion, I can do nothing.”

Despondent, Chipper looked at him as tears of grief filled his eyes. “I don’t know if you can do anything for her Nelson. Your magic is completely different than that of a priest dedicated to a divine power or philosophy. This is caused in part by her mixed heritage. It’s killing her…”

“Get us to that shrine yesterday Chipper,” Nelson said. His eyes blazed with golden fire, and he took Elsa into his arms, stood and looked at the overawed, thunderstruck squirrel. “Chipper, get us there now! It may be the only chance Elsa has!”

Shaking off the shocking transformation in Nelson, who no longer acted as a young apprentice, but a confident warrior-general, Chipper bolted for the left-hand passage and hollered back “Come on!” Nelson was only two or three steps behind during the entire journey.

₰₰



​

The small cluster of spider-like beasts observed through facetted eyes filled with unholy anger. When the three companions disappeared down the left-hand passage, as one hive-mind they contacted their own master, the one known as Mechanus. “Master, we have found the prey you seek. They are nearing the ancient shrine, we shall follow and report if they discover it. There is more, a minion of Scorpios has perished and we sense it managed to convey their location as well.”

A moment later the spider-like beasts, venom-coated glistening mandibles audibly clicking in sequence, cringed in abject terror as their masters diabolic rage echoed back into their collective existence. Then their master gave his orders: “Destroy them completely, no one is to survive but leave their magic intact!”

The mass of spider-like beasts, black bodies glistening in the half-twilight formed into columns and commenced their march, prepared to do battle against the companions…

Moments later, they fell, victims to the wraith-like apparition which enveloped, dissolved, and devoured them to the last. Nothing remained to indicate they even existed, save for the finest of metallic dust. The wraith-like entity halted, listened with infernal delight to distant sounds, and grinned; for it recognized that one or more armies – such as they existed in the Labyrinth – were on the march. Spectral hands silently clapped as a quiet laugh carried on non-existent winds, telling all who could sense such, that the apparition called Gloom is on the hunt.

 

Next chapter will be up and running Wed or Thurs at the latest.

 

Revelations great and small...

₰₰ Book One: Chapter Seventeen ₰₰


​

Nelson walked about the small shrine, a chamber no more than ten paces on all sides in which a small magical spring bubbled and babbled away the ages. He noted the eternalness of intricate frescos, reliefs and works in which ancient, inhuman artists had achieved perfection: lattices upon which long, flowering, flowing vines had ascended to the skies; arched windows through which birds of all kinds flew, alighted on branch or sill and to the world presented a song to the morning sun. Most spectacular of all was the lone mulberry tree, branches of great and small stature flowed in artistic abandonment from its massive trunk; great leaves and fruit hid away the small cocoons and caterpillars of the legendary silk worms.

He traced one of bird, a small wren, with one hand and marveled at the almost life-like texture and warmth that he felt. Here before him stood a part of his angelic heritage, a message and passion from ages past which called out and beckoned to him for some unknown purpose; or so he supposed, for more was at play, a magic deeper than he could comprehend, which beckoned for him to unravel the mystery of and gain for his own usage.

“How many generations did the angelic beings take to make this one chamber? How many others like it still exist; and how can we hope to find them?” Nelson shook his head and softly sighed. “How can I ever hope to become a great magician as Elsa assumes I can be; when I’m nothing more than a half-rate amateur with a few powerful items of magic? If I was half as good as she credits me with, I could have solved this curse upon her ages ago…”

Chipper hopped on over and alighted himself on Nelsons shoulder as he said: “She is asleep for the moment, though it will be a long and trouble-filled night for her. You’re hunch of the spring waters was right, as is now becoming a habit for you youngster. She needs to rest for the night, probably tomorrow if we can somehow hog tie her in place,” both of them shared a mirth-filled snort, fully aware Elsa would incinerate them if they even dared to try. He continued: “She will be fine for a few more days Nelson. Yet, as I imagine you already have given due consideration to, once we leave the shrine I have no idea what will happen.”

Chipper placed both forepaws together behind his back, shook his head and let his tail fall over one shoulder as he asked of Nelson: “Now then, as the mysteries of yourself keep growing by the day, tell me, how did you come to know that Elsa would be helped by the spring water; or that the protective magic of the shrine would even allow her entrance?”

Nelson looked at the squirrel and said, “In some of the lore books my late mentor had, ones I brought with me, there is recorded the existence of magic springs. Ones that can provide healing, cure poisons and restore even grave physical losses to the mind or soul, often carry on the air scents of roses and lilac mixed into one. I took a chance with this one. Although there was something guiding me along; almost a voice from beyond this world, that indicated how to enter the shrines concealing door. That same ‘voice’ indicated what Elsa and we needed can be found here.”

Chipper nodded sagaciously, keenly aware of what was happening to Nelson, and what he was becoming as well. He knew, based on a dream granted to him a day before, the destiny that Nelson and Elsa would achieve, or hopefully would achieve, and how they would shake the cosmos to its foundations. Setting that aside for the time he asked of Nelson: “And what else?”

Nelson grew as sheepish as a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and said: “This will sound weird, but the voice instructed and guided me in tapping into a portion of my being, the angelic half, and when I placed my hands upon Elsa, the golden fires you commented upon in my eyes flowed into her. There was darkness inside of her, a living sentience of a sort I never have heard of, that screamed, howled, and fled for the deepest corners of her soul. I knew that the magic of the golden fires had bound it for a time, and that Elsa would be fine.”

“What is this darkness in her Chipper?” Nelson’s voice had grown cold and stern, his eyes flared with eldritch power at the thought of his beloved Elsa being endangered by anything. “I know there are secrets shared by the two of you; I understand that, but I ask of you, what more is there you will say, for I know the tears of blood on her cheeks are a manifestation of something driving her to the brink of sanity. Please tell me so I can help her.”

Elsa’s soft terror-filled mewling drew the attention of Chipper and Nelson, then, as she calmed once again, Nelson spake: “I’ve held my peace this long Chipper out of respect for Elsa. I know she, like me, walks within two-worlds, between the mortal and immortal. Though the immortal half of her heritage is beyond anything I can imagine. Every time our minds connect, I feel as if she is being torn in a dozen directions at once and am not sure which will gain dominance from moment to moment.”

Chipper sighed, shook his head and let his tail dance wildly about, for he was frustrated to no end. “Nelson, I can only say so much as Elsa bound me with an solemn promise of our faith; one she demanded after she had finished off her dinner: and that minion of darkness more than had it coming! Listen carefully - Elsa awoke in this world, bound body, mind and soul by the foulest, corruptest, and darkest of magic any mortal being can employ. Those magicians and priests – many are formidable mind mages as well – bound a creature of immense living darkness and evil within her. They desired it to make her the perfect assassin, no emotion, no sympathy, no hesitation. In the end, it was their undoing…”

Nelson looked at Chipper and asked, “Undoing?”

Chipper nodded and said, “Yes. Cassius, Caligula, Hedrick and even the Primus failed to understand, the magic used by them to bind it to Elsa allowed a portion of her mind to remain free. Though it took her decades, she finally won her freedom and in the titanic battle which followed destroyed them…or so I hope…but that is for another time. Unfortunately, in winning free of them she also lost the means of controlling the ‘beast within’ as she calls that creature. Day by day it’s a contest of wills and she is afraid what happens whenever it breaks free, gains control for a time, and goes on a rampage.”

Nelson gasped, utterly shocked by this revelation of his lady love, “But, but…” he stammered.

Chipper scythed the lad with a stern look, “But nothing Nelson. I know you love her to no end, even with this revelation of her heritage. Understand how much she loves you: if that beast gains control of her body, and it would love nothing greater than to torment her with the knowledge of how it ripped you asunder while she was unable to do anything, she has given me instructions on how to ensure you survive.”

Nelson gulped, unable to accept what Chipper was saying. “You mean she told you to…”

“Yes Nelson, you do understand and need to accept what she has instructed of me.” Chipper looked deep into Nelsons eyes as his own blazed with iridescent fires. “She has clearly instructed me, and in such iron-clad ways that, as her spirit-companion I cannot refuse, that, if she turns on you after the beast within gains control…” he paused, took a deep breath and said in great sadness, “I am to kill her for your sake, no hesitation, and with no mercy. It is to be complete destruction, nothing left for anyone to bring her back with magic...”

“What?” Nelson loudly said, then covered his mouth with both hands as Elsa stirred.

When she returned to her troubled slumber Chipper nodded and added: “That is how deep her love for you is Nelson; she will have me destroy her: assuming I can somehow manage to do so given one portion of her heritage, to ensure you are safe. Ever since I have entered her life she has sought death to end the madness of that inner beast, and to end the nightmares. When you came along, you gave her back that which she thought long gone: hope. The greatest gift you could have ever given, and she loves you all the more with each day you two are together. If she ever learns her mother is now one of the leaders for the Academy of the Arts in Stars Rift...”

“My stars,” Nelson said, missing the last words spoken to him.

He looked at Chipper and said, “Is there anything the two of us can craft from magic to help her out? Even if it only lasts for a few days at a time; there has to be something, anything which we can do for her benefit?” When the squirrel looked quizzically at him Nelson said, “Do you think I’m just going to up and abandon her? I don’t give up that easily; and I am not going to give up on her!”

Chipper laughed and fist-bumped Nelson on his head, “I’ve noticed that, though Elsa feared you would bolt the instant you found out even a bit of what I have told you. As for us being able to make something for her, that will actually aid in the short or long run?”

“I don’t know Nelson, I honestly do not know.” Chipper looked back at Elsa and shook his head as she mewled from one more chain of nightmares which troubled her exhausted slumber. How he wished, for one time in his immortal existence, he could find something to help her out.

₰₰


​

In the depths of her exhausted, troubled slumber Elsa fought against the nightmares, of those she was compelled by Primus to murder, abuse, torture, seduce, maim or intimidate. Of people who have hunted her for what she was said to be, rightfully or wrongly; of horrors so vast, so powerful, so prominent from the 'beast within'; that at times she feared, as she did every night, that her mind would shatter.

“You cannot deny me forever Elsa, so why do you even try?” the beast within asked, its voice sounded akin to a silent wind upon the remains of a dead world of eternal blackness. “Why do you even try? You belong to me, no matter how long you fight it, no matter what trick or useless emotions you cling to, especially the falsehood of what you call ‘Hope,’ for even Pandora learned the fallacy of that ‘truth’ and surrendered to the eternal night that all do in the end.”

Elsa gave it a defiant mental laugh which enraged the beast within to no end and she prodded it to new heights of rage with: “I beat you when you tried to take control of me the day I awakened into the world. Now don’t tell me you did not enjoy what happened to the devil? Such brutes, threats, dire promises, and then they whimper as obliteration comes to them; I wonder how you will scream, protest, beg and whine when your time comes? Oh how I shall enjoy that day beyond anything else…”

The beast unleashed a psychic roar which rivaled the howls of a thousand banshees; which is exactly as Elsa had intended.

“I will continue to torment you with a thousand thousands of deeds you have committed, or shall come to do in the fullness of time. You know this to be true, for I have the power to see far into the future, and thus reveal to you all which are inevitable…ACK!” Hit by a pure, savage, overwhelming surge of primordial rage, anger, and determination within which Elsa had bound her hopes for her and Nelson, the beast screamed as never before. For time bound only by the speed of thought, the beast was pummeled again and again, until, at long last, it yielded to Elsa and withdrew to leaver her in peace.

More precisely, to leave her in peace for the time; for both knew even as strong as Elsa was in the powers of the mind, she could not yet destroy the creature.

“I will return when the time is most opportune for me, and mind you, the enemies you thought long abandoned are coming, especially Gloom.” The beast chuckled at her terrified gasp of alarm.

₰


​

“Elsa, are you alright?” Nelsons mind touched the surface of her thoughts, and she grasped them in full to keep herself anchored in the real world. “I felt something that was troubling you and hoped you would tell me some of it? That is, if you will. If you choose to keep it a secret that’s fine as well; I do understand some trials have to be fought alone, but remember, you are not alone.”

Elsa reached out to Nelson along the same link and told him: “I know that my love. It’s, some things right now do need to be secret. For your sake Nelson, and not for my own, it has to be this way Nelson; it has to be this way until we are out of the labyrinth. I know that little bundle of furred energy Chipper told you some of my story; and yes, he has instructions that if I do lose myself to the beast within, then he is to kill me, if he can, to save you at any cost.”

She felt Nelson about to protest and cut him off: “I will say this much Nelson. Due to aspects of my heritage, and not just that of the beast within, I have needs akin to that of a life-drinker. Without such energy to fill this need, I weaken by the day, and in time fall into exhaustion so great you cannot imagine; even the magic in my cloak and armor can only delay the inevitable. Yet I say this Nelson, I do not ever prey upon humanity or the sentient beings of the cosmos save for ones of irredeemable evil such as demons, devils and their followers.”

When she finished, Elsa steeled herself for Nelsons rage, hatred or violent reaction of righteous indignation that is typical of one who is half-angelic. Instead, perceptive as ever, Nelson replied: “That’s the problem? And here I thought it would be insurmountable. No wonder you seek the seven tigers, assuming they still exist that is. The knowledge they unlock may hold the answer for you, which I can hope for as well. In the meantime, let me and Chipper sees what we can come up with – one of the notebooks of my mentor speaks on such matters and it may have a short-term solution that will help you out.”

Elsa sent a mental kiss to Nelsons lips and said, “Thanks Nelson.”

He replied, “Welcome my love. I can’t wait to show you this shrine and the wall decorations. As we have come to expect, they are overwhelming in detail. The lone tree is a mulberry of exceptional size, though not lifelike in the least; the branches arc too far outward to one side and the silkworms upon it are not near the leaves as they should be.”

Elsa pondered this for a moment, then conveyed to Nelson: “Silkworms? I’ve never seen the things before, only the fine cloth woven from their cocoons. Remember the passage from the journal, the one concerning some trail called the ‘Silk Road’? Could there be a connection between this mulberry tree, the silkworms, and the authors meaning? Or is it another layer within layer within layer of deception and decoy to conceal his true meaning?”

Nelson thought about this and replied: “Probably yes to all of your questions. Given the convoluted logic and secrecy the journals author uses, we have to search three layers deep. Almost all things important come out in threes; hence the three of us, forged in trials, tribulation, and friendship into the companions who can deal with anything thrown at us. I’ll continue to study the tree, maybe even attempt one or more divination magic to see what can be seen.”

“Just be careful Nelson, this shrine may be usable as a base for some time on our part, but eventually the local beasts and such will discover us. When they do, we may have to beat feet faster than ever before; this entire area of the Labyrinth is gnawing away on all of our nerves.” Elsa let the mental link dissipate as she fell into a deep and blissful sleep at long last.

₰

​

Nelson stood before the mulberry relief and cautiously placed one hand upon it. Instantly a thousand motes of golden fire surged across its surface from his left to right; seven times the cycle repeated; seven times perfect in every detail; seven times three of the birds flared with golden light, five with silver, twelve with royal blue, and sixty score more shone in rainbow glory.

Then a voice softly called out to him, one which echoed through his thoughts and his very soul, “Child of the angels; I call to you and ask you to join the ranks of my servants. Chipper and Elsa are both followers of mine, fellow magicians and priests in one; each has their role to play in the companionship you have formed. So it is I ask of you to fully join in their burden, and become greater than you are now.”

Nelson blinked, looked around and saw Chipper smiling at him as the squirrel shrugged his shoulders. “What is going on here? Chipper, are you playing another of your pranks and making me think some divine entity is now speaking with me?”

“No Nelson,” Chipper solemnly said, “You are being called to a higher duty, one which has already manifest in your angelic half, and in the holy power you have unleashed several times already. Elsa and I made the choice a long time past; you may do so if you desire, or reject it without fear. Unlike the darker powers, the ones we are followers of do not coerce they only offer.”

“Let me think on it and get back to you,” Nelson said to the soft voice, which agreed and withdrew. Shaken to the core of his being, Nelson knew a transformation point had arrived in his life; knew the truth before him; and still hesitated, unsure of all that may wait beyond the door which opened before him.

Holding his staff in hand he looked back at the mulberry tree and said, “Chipper, I think we have something here. I have no idea what, but it’s a beginning…”

Chipper scampered over and ascended to Nelsons shoulder. He examined the reliefs, not having seen the flare of light earlier, and shrugged his shoulders. He said: “Yes, something is there, it’s something called a tree, more specifically a mulberry tree, of at least three hundred years in age. Yet what does it mean: symbols, layer within layer, secret upon secret; what mystery will it present; what new challenges; and what dangers are we about to bring down on our collective heads? Or for that matter are you just going nuttier than me?”

Nelson gave the squirrel a sardonic look and said, “You are in a wonderfully twisted and foul mood tonight, are you not? Maybe one of the demons or devils in this region has taken command of your senses and is slowly becoming squirrelish?”

Chipper’s eyes flared with eldritch power and his fur bristled in mounting rage until, at long last, he understood that Nelson was joking with him. As he relaxed he said to him: “Nelson, you have a strange sense of humor at times.”

Nelson snorted and said: “I meant that we have another mystery here. Somehow it’s connected to the Silk Road mentioned of in the journey, and I can sense our adversaries closing in; that danger sensation of mine, the pressure which builds as it closes, is all but hammering in my ears. There is more, that Duke of Hell back in the stairwell, I feel the thing has entered this region of the Labyrinth, and it is hunting for something powerful; it may be after the Guardian or similar prey.”

Chipper looked over at Elsa, nodded at the communiqué she had sent to him, and then said to Nelson: “Fine then, I know a sacred ritual which will strengthen the magical defenses of the shrine. I cannot guarantee it will stop all of our foes, but it will be the best chance we have. The matter is this Nelson, before you can participate in it, you must commit yourself in full to the divine patrons I and Elsa have. In short, you will join us as a new priest of our Order.”

Without hesitation Nelson committed himself: “Let’s do this, tell me what I need to do.”

Chipper gave exacting instructions to the lad, and the two commenced to dedicate the shrine with the blessings of their faith. Thread by thread, layer by layer, the shrines surfaces became alive with fields of fire – blue, gold, green, red, white, yellow and orange. The sacred ritual passed from one hour into two, then three, four and at long last, ended in the seventh hour; exhausted, Nelson slumped to the ground next to Elsa and grinned, proud to have participated in such a magical ritual.

He looked around at the glowing shrine; heavenly music hummed soft, gentle, restful, and with majestic power which will keep him, Chipper and Elsa safe for some weeks to come. On a hunch, he held his hands out before him and cast a minor magical spell: four small faerie-like beings, spirits which glowed with soft white light, came into the world and nodded at his silent command to guard the three of them as they slept.

Satisfied, he settled into his bedroll and soon entered into a deep, untroubled slumber, unaware of a miniscule mistake he had made; a mistake which would come to haunt them all in the near future.

Chipper curled up on Elsa’s shoulder, yet did not slumber. Instead, he cast a powerful spell of divination, one which allowed him to silently observe the foes he knew to be gathering in the region. He had assumed only a handful of them to exist, not so. He struggled to not scream in outrage, horror and pure spite as army after army of evil creations, creatures and nightmares great and small converged near their location.

No matter what, Chipper understood the true depths of danger as he beheld many of the masters and liege lords who controlled these armies. Each one spoke in whispered voices of malevolent power and authority of how they desired the magical might of Nelson, the living essence of immortal Chipper, and above all else: the one journal possessed by Elsa; and the secrets of that journal would elevate them to ruling entire worlds or realities of the cosmos across multiple dimensions.

Troubled as he was by this series of revelations, something more caused a greater alarm: the minions he knew to be of the Guardian, the living darkness named Cloakers, plus gargoyles and many others, retreated before the massed forces. For some reason they held their ground around passages and chambers which connected to this particular shrine; engaged in battle to the last against the looming armies which intruded in the region.

Calculating their activities, only one conclusion made any sense: The Guardian was guarding them, but for good or bad he had no idea? What had changed in the Labyrinth to cause this to happen? For that matter, what may have changed with the Guardian itself? These and a thousand more questions opened before him.

No matter how he analyzed these questions, he could come up with no good answers.

₰₰


​

In the depths of his mediation the Guardian, cross-legged, hands steepled before him, floated amidst a sea of gold and blue embers. From time to time he gently breathed, snorted or growled in anger while the air danced and crackled with psychic energy. Using one of his greatest psychic abilities, he observed simultaneous battles waged between servants of Scorpios and Mechanus.

“So many sentient beings perish for the vain glory of evil and uncaring masters,” the Guardian said. It shook its head as the battle escalated; casualties grew and moment by moment, the butchery climbed into the thousands of fallen. It analyzed the tactics, studied the overall strategy of the two evil leaders, and knew the battle would be a draw long before either of them would accept the inevitable. “Such foolish nonsense; one fights with his minions of metal and science, the other with his minions of flesh which is reengineered in the name of ‘art for the sake of evolution.’

The Guardian growled as new forces of darkness entered the fray: over twenty minor warlords or self-declared tyrants which by his tolerance dwelt in that area of the Labyrinth came to do battle. Each of them sensed the power and magic of the companions, and certain ones, such as Wrath, Vengeance and Creation, stood a real chance of gaining victory; although the Guardian was sure the companions would exact a heavy toll and survive.

The wraith-like entity known as Gloom darted here and there, assailing all with reckless abandonment. One by one, minions of its foes dissolved into misty forms and were subsumed into its existence. One by one, each of its victims granted more life-energy to its being, heightened its already formidable abilities, and drove it to new levels of hunger.

The Guardian growled, not amused in the least, by the devastation Gloom wrought upon the gathered armies. It wished the apparition would focus on the greatest threat in the region: monstrous beasts; great dinosaur-kin that could shred mortal armies in minutes; giant beetle-beasts that walked like a man; demons, devils and other such creatures of darkness and evil held into disciplined formation by the fear of their commander – the Duke of Hell Malevolence.

Leading this massive army of destruction were thirty monstrous centipedes, each eighty-foot long with armored hide and eyes which radiated flame to thirty paces fearlessly charged into battle, while hundreds of smaller ones followed. Overhead flew great bat-like beings born of flame and pure evil incarnate: each one was deadly in individual battle, and possessed magic such as only a master magician could hope to counter. The Guardian counted at least twenty flights of thirty or more such bat-like beings, and suspected many others held back for the possible arrival of their true liege: The Sojourner.

The Guardian shuddered, knowing that if the Sojourner arrived in the Labyrinth, great tracts would be annihilated before it could be expelled. Even the Guardian was not assured of its own survival against that uncompromising combination of magic of the mind and of spell, in addition to all else it could do with but a touch.

Of more immediate concern to the Guardian was the fact his minions were losing ground and fast. Casualties climbed by the hour, and if he did not withdraw them all would be lost before the day ended. So it was with true reluctance it telepathically sent the orders for a full-scale retreat to the heart of the Labyrinth. Its eyes, filled with golden fire, opened as it sighed. “May the three companions find their way through to the next doorway; what chances do they have of that? And yet, if they do overcome all that waits them in that region of the Labyrinth, and then even Primus can be destroyed…”

The Guardian felt a familiar presence reach out to it via telepathy. It smiled ruefully as the mental voice of a Master of the Academy of the Arts spoke: “Guardian, I must thank you for the protection you have rendered to date over the three companions. I hope they shall have the strength to overcome the remaining Labyrinth on their own effort, though they may, given that they have come so far – much further than I had anticipate them capable of doing.”

“Yes my friend, they have come far, but now the Sojourner is soon to arrive…” The Guardian ceased when the other speaker chuckled.

The Master stated, “Sojourner is not coming today, nor any time in the near future. It has directed that Duke of Hell, Malevolence, to strike out at you and claim the gateway for their true master. Somehow I figured this would be of interest to you.”

The Guardian snorted in disgust, knowing the Duke of Hell would be a good, honest, hard won victory for it.; one that it intended to relish when the moment came, right before taking the Duke’s head and mounting it on the wall near the fireplace.

Laughter filled its mind, delightful and melodious laughter as the Master said: “Now that is a sight I will come to enjoy in person. Here is something more which shall make you even happier, or so I hope. Know that each blow you inflict upon Malevolence will be rendered in full upon his master, the Sojourner. Before you deal with the Duke of Hell, understand another one will deal great harm to him first; of that do not ask, some secrets still remain, such as what will become of ‘Old Sparky’ the recharge mage, of which I am not sure even Elsa can defeat unless they can delve the deeper secrets of the journal.”

“Perfect, I intend to inflict such pain on that devil and thus its master such as they both have never felt in their immortal existence. Though there will be the problem of crushing the Sojourners forces, they outnumber my own by nearly thirty to one.”

“Do not worry, events have been anticipated long in advance, and I figured a trio of earth primordial’s should grant you a decisive edge. Just remember, keep your own forces out of their way for they give disgruntled a new definition.” The Masters halted, considered a matter and then continued: “In the case of the Duke I altered the magical bindings upon it so that the Sojourner will believe that the Primus was behind this attempt on its life. Neither suspects how easy it was to twist things around, and as I said, what befalls the one will befall the other in turn…”

The Guardian grinned, chuckled and then laughed long and loud. “So if Malevolence falls, then shall fall…”

The stranger cut him off and sadly stated: “No. That blasted decrepit bag of bones, the Sojourner, is too strong to perish when its servant falls. The power invested by it in the Duke of Hell will pass onto you; it is a partial payment for what the Primus and the others have inflicted upon you for so long. I keep my promise to assist you long ago in winning your freedom; and Elsa will be a key to this happening plus exacting vengeance upon both of our foes. I agree with your evaluation in she and her companions will somehow pull a rabbit out of their hat and win through. They are adventurers after all…”

“Yes they are,” The Guardian snorted, “and thus the deadliest and most unpredictable of beings in the entire cosmos.”

 

and so the tension builds

 

Yes, and there are plenty of surprises to come.

 

₰₰ Book One: Chapter Eighteen ₰₰


​

Nelson rubbed his aching temple then stretched. As tired muscles and strained tendons complained, cracked and popped one after another he grimaced. For the last half-day, while Elsa struggled in her sleep, he and Chipper had systematically studied the great mulberry tree relief; he still held to the belief the answer was hidden in its imagery.

Chipper gave a disgusted snort, for he was as frustrated, puzzled and perplexed as Nelson in trying to solve this mystery, though he had not expected any progress: the truth of the Labyrinth was that her secrets were not easily deciphered.

Nelson gestured with his rams-headed staff to the wall before them. “Look at what we have so far. A number of tree branches out of synch; song birds perched upon them, singing praise to the dawning sun; caterpillars and the cocoons of the silkworm, all facing to the east.”

Chipper nodded, granting Nelson room to play out his theory, wrong as it must be: “True enough, yet we have a normal cycle of life. Why are you so obsessed with this? Since you roused yourself from sleep you have focused solely on this area; I see nothing here, and thus we should focus more on other areas for what we need.”

Nelson snorted: “Obsessive? Fine, them I’m obsessive.” He again gestured with his staff, “Remember what the one passage from Elsa’s journal stated: we must move along the Silk Road. What if it is an analogy? Silk, it is costly, rare and profitable to trade; its origins and production are stuff of legend, many claim it is spun by the joyful songs of birds who grasp the first rays of the dawn in their feet. Hence we have that portion figured out.”

Chipper gave him a quizzical look and listened intently as Nelson continued: “The tree itself, when touched by a mortal hand, is displayed in a flow of lights that shift towards the sun; seven times the lights cycle before they dissipate. Of all the song birds the pulsations encompass all the birds with each cycle save for three: the first, fourth and seventh, which are not songbirds but cuckoos.”

Chipper nodded and said: “And cuckoo birds are noted for the deception they play. Keep going…”

“Consider the numbers – one, four, seven.” Nelson looked at Chipper and continued: “Add them up and you have twelve. When you add them together – one and two – you have another prime number: three. Most of the challenges we have faced and beaten tend to be to the third level – a mystery within a mystery within a third mystery.”

Excited, tail flicking about in a blur of motion, “And hence we go for the third region represented by the good old cuckoo bird: the third prime number displayed here.” Chipper whooped and danced about until, disturbed by something he asked of Nelson: “What of the other birds?”

Nelson gave an enforced grin: “Here is the matter, the remaining birds, every one, are wrens. These are akin to the shape taken on by the Effigy back near the stone tower. So if we assume the wrens represent the ‘nightmares which cannot be kept at bay’ then the path through them is via the shrines, or somehow connected to them.”

Chipper cursed and double face-palmed himself: “Of course, it makes sense. The ghostly undead, nightmares to the living, and some which gain strength from the fears they inflict upon mortal beings. Some can slay with but a touch, others drain the life force and knowledge out of one – such as happened to Elsa. Others will wrack any mortal with soul-crushing fear and terror as their bodies dissipate, and the victims mind, soul and knowledge are added to it.”

₰


​

The massive force of spider-like beasts moved with alacrity down the rat-tunnels, determined to secure them for their liege lord Mechanus. In the half-light of the tunnels, their metallic hides reflected copper, silver, gold and platinum, each one larger, stronger, and fiercer than the previous; among them, here and there, came forward the rare midnight black beasts made of adamantine; all of the others made way for them, the very air hummed with magical energy ready to rend foes asunder.

Behind them came the larger scorpion-beasts, great golden-claws and stingers held high, most were the length of a mans forearm, while one in twenty were twice that in size and mass. Relentlessly they paced the spider-beasts, prepared to surge forward and engage the first determined defenses encountered; yet no such foes were met for some time, for they had fled, perished, or joined those who even now rushed to counterattack the forces of Mechanus.

In a region of the rat-tunnels littered with intersections the forces met: mechanical beings confronted the first rat-beasts, snake-beasts, and badger-like beasts of Creation. Hellish-red eyes flared with power as acidic drool fell and hissed upon the stone floor; then, after only a moment of hesitation, both forces surged forward with the force of a river liberated from captivity. Fang and claw, talon and pincer, stinger on stinger, flesh and bone met unliving metal, dozens of minions perished on both sides in the opening seconds. With each passing moment, ever more forces rushed forward and joined in the melee; neither side expected or granted quarter or mercy, to them only victory or death in service to their masters mattered.

Soon enough, drawn to the cacophony of battle, the scent of blood and death, and the enlivened life force of so many beings gathered together, Gloom appeared. At the same moment, the first swarming masses of diabolic brimstone-rats arrived, and the slaughter grew to new and ever terrified heights of carnage. Gloom spared none that crossed its path, but maintained its focus on the greater prize now scented: Elsa the cat-girl.

₰


​

Nelson looked at Chipper and said, “It makes complete sense, take the time and put it all together.”

For once, unable to come to any other conclusion, Chipper agreed and said: “I have the feeling Nelson, which your new priestly abilities are to be an asset for us, beyond what even I could have imagined. Chipper gave off a coyish grin, “Elsa’s going to flip when she sees the changes that have come over you…”

Nelson looked upon his robes and agreed. Crafted in ages long past for the court magician of the elves, they had changed, altered, and retailored themselves to fit his frame perfectly. Now they resembled priestly vestments in which twin, rams-horned, intertwined dragons reared to the heavens on the front; from them emanated an aura of holy strength, fortitude and power, making him feel as if he were a prince of a great kingdom, instead of a mere apprentice magician and novice-priest.

“I guess she will,” Nelson said, in agreement with the squirrel. “I never imagined on this quest my world would be turned inside out and upside down as it has. Now if the truth can be found on this wall…” He paused, and then cast a spell of divination, hoping to find a clue or answer to this mystery. He gasped when words flowed into his mind; word by word they meshed, merged, flowed, and he knew the solution at long last.

“Unbelievable, it’s that simple,” Nelson said while Chipper gave him a quizzical look.

Nelson focused upon the wall, nodded and held his staff before him. “You might want to hold onto something Chipper; I have to do this while the revealed knowledge remains to me. There will be no second chances.”

With a voice of a thousand thunders Nelson then declared: “Let that which is hidden become manifest, for let secrets that bubble from the depths be shown into the flames from the tree, let us behold that which is hidden within thee; so it is I do not strike with open flame or with embers untamed. Let the fires manifest by truth be revealed, so that nothing unpleasant is gained.”

Chipper screamed and fled for life and limb, having assumed another holocaust was about to envelop the entire shrine in death reaveing force; at last, he dove into Elsa’s bedroll. He held forepaws to his ears, desperate to block out the writhing voice of Nelson, as it rolled and rebounded off all surfaces, and shook him to the bone of his being. Finally, when quiet returned, he peeked at the shrine and was overawed: he beheld that many birds had vanished, but that the first, fourth and seventh remained. No longer cuckoos, they had become miniature phoenixes; symbols of truth and magical lore and power. In the space between them, a web of silk-like fibers danced as golden fires flowed along their surface. Seven times the cycle repeated, then went dormant for seven minutes, and repeated again.

Nelson stood resolute and strong, an unyielding and unmovable force which defied the magical forces that he had unleashed. His rams-headed staff glowed and pulsated with white-hot flame for many a minute, until, at long last, the fires were absorbed. He looked over at Chipper and sheepishly grinned: “Something told me that the staff can absorb magic and certain elemental forces such as fire; I anticipated the trap, and thus,” he pointed to the staff with his free hand, “was ready. Somehow this thing uses such power to recharge itself; though I have no idea of how much mystic power resides within?”

Chipper looked at the wall and said, “My stars! What have you done?”

₰


​

In the boulder strewn passage six great centipedes wove their way along; facetted eyes gazed upon a dancing tapestry of light and shadow generated by the hellish-red glow emitted from iron-hard, knob-covered armored scales of their bodies. Relentlessly they advanced, dismembering the few foes that dared to stand in their way, and sought out the path of the companions. Finally, one detected their scent, alerted the rest, and the six gave pursuit until they reached the shrines illusion-disguised doorway.

As one their eyes flared with red iridescent flames and they alerted their master: “Lord Scorpios, the shrines entrance is before us. The scent trails are heavy and recent, distinctively that of the three intruders – rodent, cat-girl and human. The door and shrine are protected by a powerful illusion and defenses that will entrap any spirit which – ACK!”

Great cylinders of blue-white flame roared down from on high, enveloped and consumed the centipedes. The four guardian faerie-spirits looked upon one another, nodded, smiled, and faded from sight; but they did not pass on a warning to their summoner, Nelson, for he had not instructed them to do so.

Thus Scorpios dispatched a hoard of its finest forces to bring back the companions, dead or alive. Many of its rival lords noticed this force when it was underway; the discerned the prize being sought, and dispatched their own forces to seize the companions, and eliminate the enemy forces in one move. Most of these forces fell into battle with one another well short of the shrine; and those which survived the carnage, soon fell before the unholy minions led by Malevolence.

₰₰


​

Chipper rushed over, gestured to the transformed wall and, his voice filled with awe and wonder, asked of Nelson: “Look at what you have done! What happened? How did you do it? Why did you not tell me and Elsa you knew how to unlock this all along?”

Nelson calmly looked at the wall and said, “Thought so.” He said to Chipper: “I had a hunch that part of the journals first passage contained false references. Someone casually reading it would conclude it talked of hot springs, charged with explosive gases in the depths. Yet it bespoke of two distinctive fires: open flame and the embers of a fire; either of which could unleash a flaming holocaust incinerating all within its grasp. I finally understood the answer: truth – a flame that can be great or small, open for all to see or hidden away, dormant until brought to life. The potential holocaust warned of the trap; and thus I was able to prepare for it and use my staff to absorb that great force.”

“Good deductions,” Chipper admitted. “But, how do you account for the words you spoke?”

Nelson turned sheepish and told Chipper, “I employed a minor divination designed to reveal necessary words or probability of words and the proper combination they can come together. It presents probabilities, nothing more and for once I got the right one.”

Chipper shook his head in disgust, “As usual, you have shown me that the Labyrinth has secrets within secrets, I wonder if I can ever crack this place…”

Taking to one of his erratic fits, Chipper sped around the shrine, leaped high into the air and cannon-balled into the bubbling spring. Soaked, smiling, and happy he rushed back to Nelsons side and gave a shrug of his rodent shoulders, shook himself free of the water and grinned as Nelson backed up from the sudden torrent which assailed him.

“Sometimes being a rather large sized squirrel has its advantages. One of which is to engage in pure misfit spats of fun for no logical reason other than to have fun.” He alighted himself on Nelsons shoulder, leaped atop of his head, and examined the wall carvings for some time. Finally, he asked Nelson to hold his staff close to the wall and he ran to perch upon the rams-head.

Pointing to the silk-like fibers he said: “I believe these are part of the rat-hole warrens, some of which led me to this shrine. Do you think we may be able to use them as another set of pathways to the other shrines? Or is this being too obvious and that another path may be indicated? Also, we have to take into account that I may be assuming something is real when its not; my track record to date has not been as great as yours and Elsa’s.”

“It’s not a matter of being great or small Chipper,” Nelson stated. He gestured at the shrine itself and said to the squirrel: “The Labyrinth adapts and changes itself to challenge each being who dares to challenge it; there are more secrets in this place than I could figure within a hundred lifetimes. So far we have faired better than I have expected in unraveling this much of the shrines mysteries. Right now, I think we should wait for Elsa to awaken and examine our efforts; she may have a few extra insights and find something we missed.”

“In the meantime, I want to take a look around the passages in the area. It’s almost inevitable our foes will find us and assail the shrine, no matter how strong the defenses.” Nelsons continence became stone-hard, “If there is a time we need to bolt, I would rather have some knowledge of what’s ahead of us; even if it is only to know what areas to avoid.”

Chipper cringed and said: “Nelson that might not be a good idea…”

Nelson grinned and stated: “Do you honestly think I’m going out there physically? I know I’m little more than a third-rate magician at best. I have in my collection of magical spells a fine one that might be of usage. Let’s just say it gives a new meaning to ‘out-of-body’…” he paused, “assuming I can actually pull this thing off.”

Chipper cringed, crossed both forelegs over his chest and impaled Nelson with a disgruntled look. He tapped one foot as he stated: “Usually when an apprentice magician says something on the lines of ‘assuming I can…’ the smart or wise run for cover. Should I go over, wake Elsa, and prepare for another holocaust to come? Or even burial rights if you vanish for good?”

“Let me explain,” Nelson said. “It’s called a ‘projected image,’ though this one is a lesser variation of several higher orders of such illusionary magic. In this manner I can scout the region, and remain fairly free of harm if I understand the magic correctly. I imagine that Elsa has a score or more variations of the same spell; there are at least five I have briefly studied in my own spell book.”

Still skeptical, Chipper asked Nelson to go over his body of knowledge concerning the spell. Gradually, step by step, his mood changed from dubious, to curious, to accepting, and to delighted approval. “You grasp its limits fairly well. I think it’s more a lack of practice than anything else. I must learn this variation of it, and yes Elsa has over two-score of such magic at her command. Some of the most advanced are currently beyond her usage, yet at one time she commanded them with ease.”

“Does the magic of the mind allow for such?” Nelson asked, his curiosity piqued about the potential limits and advantages that could bring to him and the companions.

Before Chipper could answer Elsa spoke over Nelsons shoulder: “Yes, I know such magic of the mind. Like the spell itself, it creates a figment: an image given partial reality in this world like a ghost which can manipulate items and harm its foes.”

“How come you never taught such magic to Chipper?” Nelson acquired of her.

She kissed him on the lips and winked as her hand passed through his shirt and coolly caressed his chest. “I offered, repeatedly, and he never deemed it to be worth the trouble.”

Nelson, suddenly aware of how cold her touch was, screamed and tumbled to the floor; his staff fell, intercepted his head, and left a dandy bruise just between his terror-filled eyes. “How did you do that?” Nelson screamed.

Elsa rolled her eyes bent down, kissed him on the head, nose and lips in quick succession. She scuffed his hair with one dainty hand, her tail swishing back and forth, and winked at Chipper. “Now then, which is real? Am I asleep in the bedroll, or am I here before you?”

Elsa giggled a second time, the sound reminiscent of a stream freezing as winter dawned, as Nelson shook of his head, utterly confused. She explained: “What you are ‘see’, or more accurately, ‘perceive’, is an advanced discipline of the mind magic: your very imagination, thoughts, and such manifest in the physical world.”

Elsa playfully stroked one finger over Nelsons brow, cheek and nose, then across his lips. As Nelson shivered from the touch, she smiled and kissed him on the forehead, leaving a layer of frost on his skin. “As you can see, this discipline can interact in the world as the spell-based version can. But heed this caution Nelson, and heed it well. Some beings can strike out with the mind magic and harm your physical body and soul through the image you project. Its one of the weaknesses inherited in such magic.”

₰


​

Gloom clapped its ghostly hands with sadistic glee as it laughed and said: “Again, once again she has come within my grasp. This time I shall not fail to be victorious; such strength I shall gain from her, and from the nightmare that lives within her being; none shall stop me, none.”

It focused upon the scent trail and sped on his way until it reached the illusion-covered doorway. The guardian faerie-like spirits rushed forward, prepared to do battle, and perished in silent screams of final despair as Gloom enveloped, dissolved, and absorbed them utterly.

Turning to the illusion-covered doorway of the shrine Gloom cackled as never before, for it sensed the powerful life-force of Elsa, Chipper and Nelson. It knew no fear, no concern, and no troubling thoughts in the least; for this powerful spirit was only one portion of its entire being, one of thirteen others which existed across the greater cosmos. So long as one portion remained in existence, the rest will regenerate in the fullness of time.

Gloom extended a spectral hand against the illusion-concealed door; called out words of cabalistic power woven with absolute corruption, vileness, foulness and unholy power; that the very stones across from the shrine cracked, warped, melted and run like wax, or dissolved into nothingness. Yet, despite all of this the door stood intact. Suddenly it flared with a bright blue-gold flame which reached forth and grasped the very heart of Glooms being; its unholy scream echoed long and far. Then the flames dissipated, their task of the moment accomplished.

Shaken as never before, Gloom knew another means of ingress was needed, one that could bypass many of the shrines magical defenses. “The rat-tunnels,” it said. A moment later it sped off for one particular set, one which it knew linked up with the shrine, and it growled in delight when Chippers scent was detected.

₰₰


​

Nelson gulped, gagged and looked upon Elsa in despair as he said: “Maybe I need to rethink this plan. Right now it does not seem like such a good idea; I’ll dig through my spell books and see what else I can come up with to do the same thing.”

Elsa’s ghostly gently caressed his cheek and chin, her eyes momentarily danced with a primordial hunger that quickly passed. “Nelson, it’s a good idea; please, just use a bit of common sense and caution. The Labyrinth is filled with dangers to you and me. You understand the basic defenses of a mind mage, and they will help you against most creatures capable of assailing you. Just remember, keep them prepared, as in any confrontation, you only have a moment to prepare. After that, it becomes a battle to the finish.”

She softly pressed her lips to his, the chilled touch drew a quiver of delight and horror out of Nelson: “My love, hold back nothing in such a case, and I mean hold back nothing. Now then, I cannot hold this image for much longer as by body is still in deep exhaustion. Just be aware, we have a great foe in the area, I have sensed it for some time.”

With that, the image of Elsa dissipated into a maelstrom of giggling bubbles.

A moment later, the entire shrine shuddered and shook as the unholy roar of Gloom reverberated through the surrounding stone, yet failed to do any damage inside the structure itself.

Chipper looked at Nelson and said, “I guess I should have taken her up on that offer. I could go with you and we can find out if whatever roared like that is still in the area. If we have to bolt from the shrine, we need to know what is hunting us.”

Nelson chuckled and grinned at Chipper, “Indeed, and when the time comes I hope she can help me learn that particular mind magic. I still have so much more to learn…”

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, took a deep breath and began to focus; for the creatures scream had shaken him badly, and it took nearly a half-hour for him to cast the spell. He drew upon the intuitive esoteric lore granted by his robes to extend the spells range, power, and time it would remain in effect. Plus, after a moment of consideration, he cast another chain of spells, some of which enhanced his senses, others hung suspended, ready to be unleashed with a thought.

Chipper nodded at the image Nelson had crafted, not that of a human but of a blue-skinned, robe-covered goblin barely more than four feet in height. The image held a gnarled wooden staff in its right hand, at the top of which glowed a single orb of blue-white witch light. “Not bad Nelson, not bad. Most creatures down here would not hesitate to consider any human as little more than a quick snack. But this one,” he gestured with both forepaws, “This is true ingenuity. Many monsters and sentient beings rightfully fear the goblins called Blue’s, due to the deadly magic of spells and of the mind they combine into one body.”

“That was the idea all along,” Nelson said as he placed his staff across his lap, one hand held tight upon it at all times. Next to it he laid one of his magical wands, as a final backup if needed. “I don’t know if the magic of my staff or wand can be channeled through the projected image, but if it comes to it, I’m game to find out.”

“Before you do Nelson, let me tell you a few rather foul habits of the Blue’s, this will make the illusion even more believable and thus more deadly,” Chipper filled him in and nodded as Nelson blanched in revulsion over such foul-mannered beasts. “Are you still game?”

“Yes,” Nelson said. He clenched his medallion in his free hand, closed his eyes and mentally guided the goblin-image out of the shrine and into the wild passages found to the north.

₰₰


​

The armies clashed for hours on end, to no decisive conclusion. Worn down by sheer exhaustion and attrition their lords and masters pulled back and established strong encampments. Scouts were dispatched, both to find the enemies weaknesses, and, in a series of violent skirmishes, to deny the same information of their own.

Of the armies, only the Sojourners remained at near full strength. Malevolence, instructed to the find and to claim the gateway protected by the Guardian, had deployed only a small portion of his most expendable troops, then bypassed the grand clashes through little used tunnels and byways. He was determined to slay the Guardian and claim its power for himself, and thus win his freedom at long last. Then, there was the matter of finding and defeating Elsa, and a certain threatening Master of the Academy of the Arts…

Unknown to Malevolence he and his army passed through a passage that climbed above the first shrine, and thus missed their chance to surprise Elsa, Chipper and Nelson.

Yet it did allow another to find THEM; and pandemonium joined in the harvest of death unseen to date in the Labyrinth.

₰₰


​

“What do you think Elsa? Is Nelson right?” Chipper softly whispered from atop her shoulder. He glanced over at Nelson, having sensed the projected image spell coming to an end. “Nelsons back, I imagine he will be a bit out of it from disorientation. That magic took you some time to tolerate the side effects.”

“I remember Chipper; I remember, just shush and let me figure this out. It’s taken me long enough to get back to full strength again and get the beast within locked away for a time.” Elsa held her hand just above the walls surface and moved it between the three phoenix images, then along the mulberry tree. She cringed, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood as sundry bursts of flame caressed her flesh, and inflicted delightful (to her) pain on the beast within. “He has most of it right. I believe there to be a second layer of mystery here: consider that Nelson drew the flames into his staff, along with whatever other magical devastation accompanying it.”

Elsa pulled her hand away, wandered to the bubbling spring and sat by the waters edge. She splashed some on her arm and face, cringed from the pulsating electric charge which raced across her skin, then spied the cups Nelson had left there for her to use.

As Elsa quaffed cup after cup of the water Chipper asked of her: “So we have another portal or maybe the next set of doorways?” Chipper excitedly asked. He looked upon Elsa when she did not answer and saw she was captivated by the image of the phoenixes cast upon the spring’s softly glowing waters. Curious, he asked: “Elsa, what is it?”

“Oh could it be that simple? That sneaky cuss of a writer; he put the answers right before us and as usual we up and missed it again.” Elsa pointed to the image in the bubbling spring and said: “Nelson assumed the springs spoken of in the journal contained explosive gas, thus the ‘no fire’ references. But the spring before us bubbles without any reason, and generates the smell of roses and lilac.”

Chipper rolled his eyes to the heavens and said: “The journal entry used references to death, destruction and the like when it meant a spring bubbling with life. Two fires, one great and one small, revealing the truth? Or is there something more we have missed?”

“No, the answer is right before us; or it shall be momentarily,” Elsa said.

Her eyes flared with ice-blue diamond-like flames as she held her hands over the waters, bespoke a single word of power, and instantly stilled the bubbling spring. Excitedly she pointed to the sight of not three, but four small phoenixes; the fourth one rested upon a nest of eggs. “Eggs which are not; that is the clue to opening the path to the next shrine; I knew it!” Elsa clenched her fist and shook it in the air in satisfaction-filled triumph.

Nelson roused himself enough to walk over and kneel next to Elsa and asked: “What have I missed? Have you found something Elsa?” He looked at the waters, then to the wall, his hand tight upon his rams-headed staff and the magical wand. Detecting no threat, he slid the wand up his sleeve and asked Elsa for a second time “What did I miss my darling?”

Elsa swept him up in an excited, exuberant, bear-hug that threatened to crush the life out of him. “Look in the waters! We found a fourth Phoenix, which means a portal to the second shrine, one to the south of us and not to the north, exists within the wall. The silk-like threads connecting each phoenix are the rat-tunnels, but we forgot the mulberry tree branch itself! It’s a magical path for us to follow, one step through the portal and we arrive at the next shrine; we solve the mystery there, and off to the third, then the double doors, and hopefully the end of our hunt for the gateway.”

Nelson smiled, thrilled to hear of her progress. He said: “That’s good; there is no way past the hoards of monstrosities to the north of us. Some are powerful; the magic I unleashed at them via the projected image was of no use. I have to explain to Chipper that the goblin-of-choice didn’t work out very well, save to attract ever hungrier beasts looking for a quick and helpless snack.”

Elsa cringed, “That bad?”

He nodded, and cringed as chaos overcame him and Elsa in the form of a small, furry bundle of chaotic motion.

“Ye-hah,” Chipper yelled as he bolted for the far wall and leaped high into the air.

₰


​

In the warren of rat-tunnels Gloom relentlessly advanced, determined to find Elsa and claim her as its own at long last. The few beings which dared to stand and fight perished and added to its unholy, unnatural strength; such was the vast count of potential victims that it fought hard to keep from indulging in a great massacre, yet there came a moment when it sensed a strong presence, one almost equal to its own, and it knew fear.

Gloom quickly sent a telepathic message telling the entity it had sensed that no confrontation was desired, only passage through its territory so it may hunt elsewhere. Its relief was great when the entity answered to the positive. So it was that Gloom hastened to vacate the region ruled by the entity called Sparky, the recharge mage.

In the detour it took, Gloom burst forth into a wide and high passage through which the forces of Malevolence passed. Instantly it dove head on into the massed legion of devils and began to feast with reckless abandonment of one who feared nothing. Over half the legion fell before the Duke of Hell himself came forward to engage the foul spirit in combat, and teleported away for dear life, so bad were the blows to immortal flesh and its living life force. Of the remaining devils, Gloom simply grinned, and feasted long and feasted well.

₰


​

Elsa felt Chippers wild spring from her shoulder. She gasped, tackled Nelson, pulled him close and pulled her cloak as tight as possible around them, and gritted her teeth for the hell-storm about to arrive.

Shocked, Nelson asked: “What happened…”

Elsa communicated to him telepathically: “I found the way to get us to the next shrine, and that insane squirrel has taken it upon himself to trigger the portal before we disarm the trap…” For a ten-count both cringed and held onto each other, waiting for the inevitable that never arrived.

The two sat up and Elsa pulled back her cloak. They looked at the wall, and then upon Chipper who stood next to it, forearms crossed, tail twitching in irritation and one foot tapping away on the ground.

“Honestly Elsa, do you think I would set off a third such trap? I know better than that,” Chipper shrugged, “at least when I can keep the squirrel in me in check. I have no desire to finally discover that some horrendously powerful fire-trap can overcome my considerable resistance. If that occurs, poof-poof, no more you Elsa or you Nelson save for fine ash and soot; then no more finding the Guardian, or finding the gate…”

Chipper leaned to the side and placed a forepaw against the wall: right upon the fourth phoenix-bird picture, and triggered a second magical trap.

Elsa screamed and Nelson, with but a thought, triggered a spell prepared for such an event earlier in the day. A golden field of force appeared around him and Elsa a moment before the shrine was enveloped in heat, flame, light, pressure and forces to rival the sun. Sheltered within, the two screamed, buffeted by heat and blinding light, catastrophic sound and shaken stone; suffering sensory overload, Nelson wondered if the end was now at hand and clutched his beloved Elsa all the tighter as he cast a second, and then a third spell to layer the magical protection.

Elsa curled as tight against Nelson; and screamed louder than ever from sheer terror. She took a bit of smug satisfaction in hearing the beast within howl: it assumed judgmental annihilation had at last arrived.

Amidst the inferno appeared a small Phoenix, slightly larger than a song bird. It examined the companions and was pleased. When the flames dissipated, the shrine remained intact; save for a gleaming archway filled with soft blue light, atop of which was a carved phoenix.

Nelson cancelled the magical barrier and glanced at the archway. He looked at Elsa, grinned and said, “Let’s get our stuff and get out of here. The passages to the north and those above us are filled with foes, from monstrous to automata, to devils and other things I don’t want to remember in my worst of nightmares. There’s not much time before one of them discovers the rat-tunnel Chipper used.”

Elsa nodded and the two gathered everything up and hesitated before the archway. Elsa pointed to the Phoenix atop the archway and said: “There, the glyphs and sigils carved upon its wings; those indicate our enemies will have a tough time following us to the second shrine…” She silently added: Especially old Gloom.

Chipper leaped atop Elsa’s shoulder, his fur scorched, smoke ascending as if form a furnace, and said: “Let’s vacate this place before I inadvertently set anything else off…” Before he could finish, first Nelson, then Elsa leaped for the glowing region and vanished into the unknown beyond.

The portal dissipated, the wall morphed back to its original image and the traps reset themselves moments before Gloom arrived via the rat-tunnels. Denied its rightful prey, it howled, roared and raged for hours due to its prey having escaped. Its roars of frustration multiplied to new heights when it discovered, as Elsa had figured to happen, the magic of the shrine barred it from escape – wraith-like spirits could enter, but they cannot leave.

Or at the least, not leave right away, for the next time the Guardian examined the shrine with his mind magic, the wraith-like spirit had vanished to points unknown within the cosmos.

 

₰₰ Book One: Chapter Nineteen ₰₰
​

In the gloomy, acrid-smoke-filled, crystalline-cobwebbed lined tunnels large and small swarmed the spider-like beasts of iron, silver, copper and steel. Eight mechanical legs propelled them with inhuman speed and precision; twin facetted, gemstone-eyes aglow with unholy life sought the telltale signs of prey; serrated mandibles shed droplets of acidic venom which smoked and etched the stone floor. Remorselessly they closed upon the location where the intruders had been spotted, where their fellow swarm had perished moments later in a holocaust of thunder and devastation.

One of the beats, commonly called Horrors, paused, sensing an unusual vibration from nearby. Alerted to the discovery, the other swarm-members halted, assumed a hasty defensive stance and watched all about to see if any foe appeared. None took note of the shadowy cloud which clung to the ceiling, nor considered it odd that a lone hand-shape appeared, released three glass beads, and disappeared.

The beads shattered upon impact with the hard stone floor, and unleashed a tremendous overpressure-wave that shattered, warped, twisted and mangled the Horrors swarm to a one. The shadowy cloud descended to the floor and assumed the shape of a man, then parted as Nelson negated his spell of ‘smoke-guise.’ Careful of his staff secured to his haversack, with a wand in hand, he checked each of the automata, and systematically gathered the precious gemstones used to give them magical life.

He held out and examined one fine diamond, its inner fires danced in the half-lighted gloom of the tunnel. His smile rivaled the gems natural beauty and he declared: “This one alone can fetch almost five-thousand golden crowns in trade. Assuming, that is, we manage to get out of this blasted Labyrinth before much longer. Time to get back to work, and hope Elsa and Chipper get back here faster than ever.”

The diamond joined seventy-three others of its kind in a pouch. “Not bad so far, rubies, opals, sapphires and emeralds – finally cut and polished to perfection. Not to mention scores of other gemstones the maker of these automata has generously provided for us.” Nelson reviewed the accounted magical benefits certain gemstones are reputed to have; then amended his thought, ‘reputed’ as in ‘unconfirmed by first-hand evidence beyond any doubt.’ He scolded himself: “Don’t get cocky Nelson old boy; respect, remain respectful, and be certain rather than assume anything.”

As he adjusted the scarf over his mouth and nose, and accidentally choked on some acrid smoke that got past, he heard a distinctive, persistent tap-tapping; trouble, coming from one direction, and indicated a large force was about to stumble upon him. “Crud, crud, crud,” he muttered over and over.

Thankfully, Nelson had a new trick to play, one endowed by his magical robes. He had discovered a reference to its camouflage magic in his late mentor’s notes, and then, by a silent desire of will, engaged the magic as he did now. He wondered what else the robes could do, and looked about when a voice whispered in his thoughts: In time my liege, in time all shall be revealed by us when you so desire.

He faded from sight, camouflaged perfectly with the stone, and shadows drew deeper in his presence while all sound emitting from him ceased to be. Roughly twenty feet away, a shadowy, smoky form appeared and took on the rough shape of Nelson. Nelson renewed many of his magical defenses, including the stone-hard skin which would protect him for a dozen or so blows, and one he never used before: it granted to him the ability to see in the deepest of darkness, even such generated by magic. A quick, focused, mental tally told him how many additional spells were ready to be unleashed with but a thought; and they were far too few in count to meet his satisfaction.

₰


​

The snake-like form slithered forward at an intense pace, having scented its prey and determined to bring it to bay before the others arrived for the kill. Twelve-foot long, sleek, its blue-steel hide glistened in the half-light of the rat-tunnels. As it moved around a sharp, descending bend, its magically granted senses detected the squirrel that sheltered in a small niche about three feet ahead.

In inhuman, remorseless satisfaction it curled up and prepared to lunge for the kill, acidic venom dripping from four needle-sharp fangs. Then, from above and to the right, it detected a second life form, one which should not be laughing in wild contempt! Its head shot around and twin eyes flared with blue-green unholy flame, mouth held open and ready to deliver doom on this foolish creature…

Only to discover Chipper had concluded his lunge, preternaturally sharpened teeth pierced metal hide with ease. The squirrel shifted into a chaotic, gnawing, gnashing, chewing blur of motion as he bored into the Horror’s interior, severed metal bone and components section by section, and emerged shortly after as the beast moved no more.

“HA!,” he said and conducted a brief, madcap victory dance until three massed detonations further back in the tunnels occurred. “Uh, right, forgot about the other pests following me.” Enacting a magical spell to hasten his natural speed, another to prevent magical detection or observation, and a last to harden his skin akin to stone, he rushed down the tunnel towards Nelson and Elsa.

Twice more he enacted his whirlwind of death against mechanical snakes, and ten times that upon other Horror of diverse size and shapes. Yet no matter how fast and hard he ran, his foes paced him to all sides, and even from above and below in the three-dimensional maze of rat-tunnels; at long last, deciding that a grand battle was inevitable, Chipper made his stand at a large (for him), long and boulder-strewn cavern in which he had time to summon additional help.

From atop a boulder, eyes ablaze with eldritch flame, he called out to the first swarm of Horrors that appeared: “Come you abominations to the natural order of things, come and feel my wrath.” Upon his silent command the ground shifted and heaved as great spirits of the earth arose in shapes of lions, tigers, bears and humanoid forms to battle. The savagery escalated as new swarms of automata arrived and recklessly threw themselves into the fray, and as Chipper brought forth more and more air-spirits, earth-spirits, and even creatures formed of magma and sentient-light.

Finally, seeing even his considerable abilities would not decide the issue, Chipper was forced to flee again after he unleashed a final magic that brought down great sections of the caverns and tunnels: Earthquake. He shook his head amidst the choking dust and brimstone, and said: “Elsa is not going to be happy with me.”

₰


​

From the four connecting passages they emerged, united within the confines of a small cavern some forty paces across and half as high. Twenty-odd Horrors appeared, each one a six-legged, scorpion-like beasts of gleaming facetted lead-crystal which danced with electric arcs that played across surface and inner depths. Within their shared hive mind, they learned that their particular prey – the cat-girl – had evaded them again, though nearby the shattered and plundered remains of other Horrors indicated she had to be close.

Indeed, she was; much, much closer than they anticipated.

Unblinking eyes glanced upward as a blue-white light flared into existence as a massive slab of iron appeared. The automata tried to flee, yet far too late to avoid the inevitable as the massive, multi-ton, three foot thick slab landed and crushed them flat. A hollow, deep, thundering boom filled the air as the floor shattered into a mass of spider-web cracks and fragments. Thick clouds of dirt and dust enveloped the area, and Elsa cringed when, from beneath the slab, a chain reaction commenced, the Horrors crystal bodies torn asunder by massive arcs of electricity.

As the dust began to dissipate, her keen vision revealed gemstones scattered across the floor, along with shards of crystal, and twelve wands of spiral-cut crystal. As she gathered them for later usage, along with a fair amount of gemstones, she understood how this particular kind of Horrors could strike with a near-infinite number of electric-blasts; not that it mattered, for such forces did not bother her in the least.

Tap-tap!
Tap-tap!
Tap-tap!

The spider-like Horrors, ones of hound-sized bronze and gold, mandibles dripping green acid, raced from the passage, leaped forward, and passed through the ghostly image of Elsa. Having anticipated their landing spot to perfection, the eight Horrors never had time to react before she struck. The far three perished under a set of massive iron plates; the remainder fell to her enchanted axes, appendages and bodies rent by concussive force or reduced to fine heaps of rust.

“Yes!” she declared, and called out in shock as the floor rumbled, buckled and shook. Her eyes flared wide in terror as the spider web of cracks rolled across the stone and arched high on the walls with alacrity. “Oh nuts! Not good, not good at all!” she said and bolted back down the passage she arrived by, hoping to outrun the ongoing collapse behind her. Even flat out, she heard the tearing scream of stone approach all the faster and resorted to a desperate move: to accelerate her own natural speed to break-neck proportions.

Faster than a diving falcon, Elsa leaped from wall to wall, from boulder to boulder, and managed to stay just one step ahead of complete disaster. Time and again the passage shifted direction and angled up or down, and filled with the hollow boom-booming of the entire region staving in upon itself.

At last, as she whipped about a final corner, Elsa was swept up by the massive blast of air and hurled some two hundred feet to a bone-jarring meeting with the far wall. She sat up and watched as thick, writhing clouds of dust, acrid smoke and dense brimstone filled the region, and she pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth to keep from gagging. A great sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she leaned back against the stone wall as her injuries began to heal.

Elsa struggled to her feet, growled in defiance as the ground shook again, and said: “Blast it, the entire area has to be weaker than an old ramshackle and rotten house in a swamp. Now, time to get to Nelson and Chipper. Damn that fouled up archway; it dumped us into the middle of this mess and not into the second shrine like it was supposed to do so. I still have no idea what went wrong; or for that matter if it even did go wrong and we are here as another test?” She focused on the mind-to-mind link shared with the squirrel.

“Chipper, what is going on in your area? Have you found any sign of the second shrine? Or are you still at play with those mechanical contraptions?” she asked of him.

He replied in an excited voice: “The blasted things are trying to cut me off from the two of you. One small vent held the smell of roses and lilac coming from deeper down. Most likely we have to head down instead of across to close on the shrine – “ he paused to deal with some threat, the hollow retort of detonations and stone falling grated on Elsa’s teeth. “Sorry about that. Nothing like a bit of turning stone into molten lava to deep fry these things, considering nothing else in the way of magic seems to affect them. I’m heading for Nelson right now and please let him know, I have company hot on my heels.”

Elsa smiled and said, “What else is new, I’ll be with him in a few minutes…”

Here words were stilled as she went for her second axe for four large, humanoid leaded-crystal forms slowly emerged from the shadows. Great arcs of electricity danced in the facetted depths of bodies and along their near translucent skin. Eyes of molten gold looked upon her as huge arms lifted great battleaxes three times her size and fifteen times her mass.

“Oh no, this is not going to be easy…” She faked a lunge to the left, the right, and as the mighty creatures first responded, unleashed a magical blast of sound and force. Stone shattered, warped, and turned to dust, while another portion joined the already clouded area; floor, ceiling and walls buckled and bent, stone tumbled free and a deep rumbling was heard in the depths of stone strata.

Though she heard this first, most ominous precursor of cataclysm, Elsa was caught up in the dance of battle; she struck with enchanted axes, tearing gaping gashes that leaked white flame; spells of sound and force, enhanced with her esoteric knowledge, slowed them to a crawl, held them bound in fields of blue fire, or spider-webbed their flesh, and duly made them more vulnerable to the destructive retribution of her axes.

First one, then the second and a third fell, soon to be followed by the last with a resounding crash. Breathing hard, Elsa was elated at this latest and most hard won victory, until the distinctive footfalls informed her another two-score of the creations had arrived, along with another half-dozen larger, stronger, swifter and far deadlier than the rest.

Elsa simply said: “Nuts!” and went back to work.

₰


​

As the steady tap-tapping continued, Nelson contemplated a retreat, paused, and realized that the sound was not moving. “Crud,” he whispered; the Horrors plan blatantly clear. “Decoy, a bloody decoy, fine then, two of us can play at this game. One twisted turn deserves another, and in spades,” he mumbled as his eyes momentarily flared with golden light, as his anger flared strong and pure.

Over a span of the wall he emplaced a quartet of faintly glowing blue-green glyphs; upon the floor, three others in a triangular pattern, eight paces apart. Then, on a wild hunch, he cast another spell and chuckled as the web of silver-gold light flowed and merged with the crystalline-webs for fifty paces in walls, ceiling and floor. It faded a moment later and his grin became truly feral. His instinctive danger sense flared loud and clear: trouble, and lots of it, was about to crash down on his head.

“Time to leave,” he said.

He already had his new position selected, and duly invoked a prepared magic. With but a step back into the shadows, he crossed space-time and emerged in a cleft about thirty feet up the passage side. A quick glance told him his timing was perfect, and he willed the prepared traps to not activate; for them he had larger prey in mind, and watched as the faint light reflected from one Horrors metallic hide. This one being the size, shape, and mass of a six-legged racing hound; jutting spikes and razor-sharp frills lined its joints and back, making it much more dangerous.

“A scout, probably with one or two others just out of sight,” he said as he watched the thing cautiously advance.

Two more appeared moments later, slowly, cautiously advancing, keenly seeking any sign of him or of traps left within their path. Metallic heads lifted and cast about, unholy fires in their eyes hesitant, uncertain; they circled about, following Nelsons path to one spot after another, and looked confused as they reached his last position. A curious flare of green and blue lights danced around all three, and Nelson momentarily sensed the static mental static inherit in all telepathic communications.

He nodded, aware that the racing hound-beasts prepared to depart, having reported to someone that their prey had vanished. “Not quite what I want my friends,” he said, and cast a minor spell which would unleash a blast of babbling noise designed to confuse, confound and distract all within thirty paces; to ensure the optimal time of employment, he used his esoteric lore to briefly delay the otherwise instantaneous effect. The reason was simple, for these racing hound-beasts he had something grander in store.

From a pouch he drew a small carved bone adorned with a feather; selected a spot just above the three Horrors and gave a grand old grin. The shockwave of babbling, chaotic noise rolled over the three automata; all three began to writhe, twist, turn and dance about, in utter confusion. Not wasting a moment, Nelson snapped the bone and watched as a massive; twenty-foot across cast-iron bell descended upon the Horrors, and crushed them flat.

His delight changed to horror as the stone shook, nearly dislodging him from his perch, and shattered the very rock floor of the passage for fifty feet around. Stone, bell, crushed automata and massive amounts of debris disappeared into the unknowable depths below. For many a minute the bell rang as its descent continued and finally ended in another ground shaking impact that Nelson felt to the core of his body. He shook his head, snorted in disgust, and focused his mind to telepathically speak with Elsa: “How much longer Elsa? The blasted brutes will be here before we know it, there is no way they can miss this mess unless they are completely incompetent.”

He sensed Elsa was deeply involved in battle, for she only acknowledged his message. Then a chain of massive, thunderous, stone-rending retorts down the side passage, close to where it divided into seven branches; Nelson held on for dear life, small stones fell about him, and one cottage-sized boulder followed the bell’s path into the depths. He heard Chipper’s distinctive scream for help, followed by Elsa’s roar of denial, the ring of her twin axes and magic upon a foe. Time and again the passage shook as the deadly magic endowed in her axes was unleashed. Soon, the passage was filled thick, choking, blinding clouds of dust amidst the acrid smoke, mist and brimstone.

One final blast occurred, followed by something large, massive, and very, very heavy falling to the floor.

Elsa contacted Nelson: “Finally! One massive, ugly, brutal and quite dismantled contraption is gone. Got some fine gemstones from it though; so what is heading your way…” After Nelson explained, and even conveyed the memory of what occurred with the great bell and automata, she gave an exasperated sigh and said: “I’ll be there shortly, figure ten minutes if nothing else runs into me. If they do, another few seconds past that. Chipper is on his way, some rat-tunnels swing over your area and we need to check them out so watch for him to come upon you at any time…” she sighed again, “probably with company.”

Nelson shook his head and muttered, “Right. Just get here soon Elsa, or I’m going to be neck-deep in trouble with the things.” A stone shifted further down the passage, just past the massive hole in the floor; a second one moved, danced against another, and soon was joined by others. Massive clouds of thick, sulfuric brimstone climbed upward from the depths; followed by a deep-throated growl that vibrated long, low, and far through the stone; and caused many of the crystalline-cobwebs to shimmer, vibrate and hum in harmony to it.

At the same time, five more swarms of Horrors, most iron, copper, or silver hided spider-like forms, intermixed with mastiff-sized scorpion-formed of gold or steel. As another growl resonated from below, Nelson gulped and aimed his wand at the approaching swarms, calculated the best moment for them to enter his trap, and then, with a thought, unleashed it.

Four precision concussive blasts shattered stress-points in the wall; from the floor erupted three cylinders filled with blue flame that scorched, melted, twisted, and consumed Horror after Horror. In a heartbeat, the first swarm ceased to exist, while the remainder hesitated for a fatal moment. They watched as the crystalline-webs flared with angry red light and the walls, ceiling and floor transformed into a frothing, burning, consuming mass of lava. In seconds, the four swarms plus two others which rushed to their aid, perished in mental screams of chaos and confusion; then, as if to ensure their demise, a section of the passage one hundred feet in length came down with lethal and crushing force.

₰


​

Elsa rushed down the torn tunnel, hair and cloak flying behind her like banners on a battlement wall in a strong breeze. Graceful as a deer she leaped from boulder to boulder, jumped smoke-emitting chasms and cracks that had been torn open only minutes before. Stone grated upon stone, massive blocks of rock greater than any great castle, shifted in unholy sounds her sharp hearing conveyed to the deepest portions of her mind; she knew, from surviving more than one such disaster, that the region was about to suffer a cataclysmic collapse and little time was left for her, Chipper and Nelson to vacate the region.

Chipper appeared out of the rat-tunnels and leaped onto her shoulder, screamed: “Keep going Elsa, they’re right behind us, and the tunnels are getting ready to come down. I inadvertently set in motion a massive failure after a bit of an earthquake-magic went wild!”

“Fine,” she said between labored gasps of breath. “Right now we got one way out. It’s straight ahead of us and the region is filled with more enemies than I can keep track of.” She and Chipper screamed as the floor heaved to and fro like a storm-tossed ship. “Blast it already!” she said as Nelson contacted her telepathically.

Chipper knew, based on her scowl and fury in her eyes, she was not happy in the least. “What happened? What has lover boy stumbled into this time? A cute present for you, something he whipped up with his magic for our dearest friend?” he asked in playful jest, desperate to find some cheer in this most precarious of moments.

A chain of magical blasts shook the region, followed by the accelerated howl of stone on stone, indicating that the end game was now at hand.

Elsa cursed as she took a corner too fast, rebounded off the wall and continued her all-out run. “No Chipper,” she said, “he just ran into a supply carrying beast for whoever commands the Horrors, and in the process he’s brought the entire region down on our heads…”

Chipper sarcastically said: “figures.”

₰​

Nelson held onto the stones for dear life, and choked from the massed cloud of debris and dust blown down the tunnel. A moment later, Elsa, shaken by the passages abrupt and unexpected collapse, telepathically spoke to Nelson. He replied to her rather impolitely worded query: “Mass of Horrors came to pay me a social call and brought the house down in the process. The passage collapsed no going back that way, but we have a rather massive shaft before me that runs very deep, and has something growling within it.” He paused, cringed as the growls grew ever closer to the surface and continued: “Correction, make that something growling, coming up and about to be upon me in short order.”

He sensed Elsa’s mental headshake as she replied: “Fine, that’s our way out of this area; the other tunnels are down as well. It looks like the entire region is unstable across the rock strata; Chipper, you and I have done all too good of a job sealing the area in and the region can go at any time. No matter what, don’t do anything more destructive than you already have unless absolutely necessary; the entire area may come down on us and that shaft is our only safe way out.”

“Right,” he said with a shake of his head. “One deep hole to who-knows-where, something coming my way and she says it’s the only safe way out of here!” He sheathed his wand, struggled to free his staff and continued: “In the process, I have to deal with whatever is coming along and ‘no blow anything up or the entire continent will come down on your head.’ Why did the story tellers never warn of adventurers and heroes having days like this no matter what they ran into?”

Nelson held his staff horizontal before him, and debated what illusion-based magic could hurt a Horror. He had a flash of inspiration, an amazing insight into his magic granted by the endowed magic of his robes. Quickly he called out words of cabalistic power and summoned into existence four ribbons of sacred fire: white-diamond facetted-ice surrounded by spirals of blue-black force. He called upon the esoteric lore two more times to make them capable of rending any metal encountered, and to inflict exceptional harm upon automata.

He cringed as the ground shook and nearly knocked him from his perch. “Not much time left,” he said and set forth his final spell before battle would commence. One hand held out to his side, he spoke a soft, slow, sibilant whisper of reality: thirty marble-sized orbs of light which writhed with destructive forces, appeared, took orbit at his shoulder, and waited his command to strike.

Nelson smiled at the sight of them, and recalled with some fondness his grandfathers’ lesson: “Prismatic orbs, individually, they can be potent; used in a swarm-style attack, even the greatest of foes can be rent apart by their power.” Grandfather was delighted how fast he had learned the magic; less pleased when he nearly blew their house apart in practice.

The ground shook again and again, and drove him to his knees. As he struggled back upright, Nelson gasped as the first gigantic metallic claw rose out of the hole, secured purchase on the floor, and then was joined by a second. Nelson shook his head, knowing in his heart this Horror was truly unbeatable; for moment by moment its forty foot length cleared the edge, until it stood tall and regal upon its six mechanical legs. The great head swept back and forth, unholy eyes of frost-fire searched for Nelson, or any other prey with inhuman intellect that separated it from its entire kin.

As the Horror crossed below his shelter Nelson held his breath, watched it’s every move and sighed as the great dragon-like beast passed. Unfortunately, as he sighed, the supernatural senses of the automata pierced his magic camouflage and alerted it to his precise location.

Faster than such a creation of metal should be able to move, it pivoted about and smashed the wall four times with its massive, mace-headed tail. Nelson held on for those and two more blows, but jumped for his life as the stone gave way beneath his feet; he saw the dragon-like beast whirl about, jaws spread to rend and white-flame shot forth and consumed thirty feet worth of raw stone.

As he fell through a cloud of acrid smoke, Nelson shouted a lone word of power and emerged from a second set of shadows further down the passage. His eyes blazed with righteous indignation as he leveled his staff at the Horror; by silent command, the four ribbons of sacred fire shot forth, followed by the thirty marble-sized orbs.

He smiled at his foe and said: “Goodbye,” and unleashed four white-hot orbs of fire from the staff.

The four orbs, magic commonly called a Meteor Swarm, detonated upon impact into a sun-bright holocaust of heat, flame and pressure; moments later, the spell repeated, and further rendered grave harm to the dragon-like Horror. Columns of steam, acrid smoke and brimstone enshrouded the devastation, and into this flew the orbs of light and the ribbons of sacred fire: blast upon blast occurred, the rumbles carried far and wide.

As the ribbons impacted the Horror Nelson sensed them pierce the armored hide with contemptible ease, and rend destruction on internal mechanisms. The obscuring clouds began to dissipate, and Nelson carefully made his way across molten and heated stone to examine the fallen creation.

“Yup, gone for good, nothing is going to put that thing back together,” he said upon seeing its twisted, torn and dismembered form. Instructing the ribbons of fire to remain on guard, he searched the carcass for some time, aware that the grinding of stone on stone was growing louder, and recovered five-score of diamonds, sapphires and opals, plus more than twice that of lesser gemstones. More importantly, hidden away within a storage compartment, he discovered a set of wands crafted of many-hued crystals. He speculated about them, looked around with alarm as the next shake came closer, and then slid them into his pouches for later examination.

Nelson said: “What’s going on? First this creature shows up, and turns out to be a mechanical courier of goods, and now the ground is shaking like mad?” He looked upon the miles of raw stone above his head, and knew in a instant it could descend, snuff his life out and none would be the wiser. A wagon-sized slab of rock burst from the wall and shattered on the far side, which in turn set free three other, more massive slabs to tumble free and partly fill the last route between him and Elsa.

“Elsa,” he said. In an instant, he focused his mind and opened a telepathic link to her, “Elsa where are you? The areas coming down and we have to get out of here! And I mean now!”

Another howl of stone on stone occurred as he struggled to maintain his footing. More and more rock began to come down, and he knew the final collapse was at hand. He called out: “ELSA!” and realized she and Chipper had both fallen in the relentless downfall of stone; so it was, as death reached out with both hands and cackled to embrace him for all time, he cast a final spell to slow the end of a rapid fall, and stepped back to the holes edge, ready to leap into eternity…

And then loosed a scream of delight and primal terror as Elsa, Chipper clinging to her haversack in wide-eyed terror, leaped clear of the onslaughts edge and bodily slammed into him. His arms clenched her about the waist as he nonchalantly said a moment later: “I got you Elsa!”

She looked at him and screamed: “Who has you?” as they plunged into the unknown depths far, far below.

 

Hey, we already knew that Elsa had fallen for Nelson. No need to make it literal.

 

True, but I counter: "why not?"

 

I just gotta hope that one of them knows Feather Fall

 

This might help clarify the matter:

It occurred to me early in the Chronicles that not everyone would be familiar, even in passing, to the Dungeons and Dragons style of magic. Hence I turned a 'feather fall' spell, which basically does the same as in bold-face, into a simple descriptor of what would happen.

This is one major challenge I have discovered with the Chronicles: how to put in simple yet descriptive terms the use of 'magic' (of spells, powers of the mind, alien technology, etc) in a manner which is entertaining, explains what is happening, yet not so 'far out' as to lose the reader.

Hence why Chipper, who is rightfully a familiar for Elsa, is called a 'spirit-companion' and the magical bond they share is a mind-to-mind link, almost on a subconscious and instinctive level.

Chipper is one of the funner characters of the band to date: Reincarnated druid-cum-squirrel, who is half-way insane. Perfect companion for an unusual cat-girl such as Elsa.

With regard to Elsa, yes she does have Rak blood in her, among other things.
I just wonder if anyone will figure out the deeper secret of hers before the first-book is finished?

 

gotcha - missed that phrase during my read.
would have caught it when the spell activated as described in the next chapter, but missed it there.
BTW - in my games, FF took effect at the time of casting and lasted for quite a while - IOW it was normally cast while falling so that the fall would be interrupted. This could actually be used to stop the fall down a cliff to end at a previously inaccessible cave midway down. Of course, that inaccessible cave would mean that there was no thief in the party, but …

Eric has an interesting squirrel in his Woodward Academy stories which sounds to be a mental match to Chipper without the druid reincarnation. Have you read any of that series?

 

I just found this and HAD to share it
[YOUTUBE]4ikH9ZRcF2Q[/YOUTUBE]

 

No, I have not read that: sounds like it would be an interesting read. I'll check it out when time permits.

RE - Squirrel Video: cute, a drunk squirrel (from fermented pumpkins) that does behave like Chipper at times.
RE - Feather Fall: good way to handle it, I never considered having an adaptation of it in such a means.

 

The squirrel in introduced in year 4 but I would recommend reading all years before so that you have a good grounding of what is going on. BTW - it is mid year before you see much of it so you would need to either wait until the pre-release material is actually published or donate 6$ to the cause for access to that material early.

 

₰₰ Book One: Chapter Twenty ₰₰
​

“Hot, hot, hot,” Elsa proclaimed as she entered into the cascading waterfall. Columns of steam climbed toward the ceiling high overhead, and coated the tangled mass of vines, flowers, stone and other plants in a diamond-like sheen back lit by the naturally ambient light. Her body began to relax as she softly mewled, induced into a partial state of pure bliss as the water caressed worn, tired, stiff and strained muscles began to relax. She let her eyes close; her head lean back and braced both hands on the stone wall, and reveled in the heady scents within the small grotto garden they discovered.

“This feels great! I’m glad we stumbled upon this grotto. It has everything she could desire: Nelson, old ruins, abundant life and mysteries galore; not to mention the greatest treasure of all, a waterfall and small pools where I can get cleaned up!” Elsa ran fingers through her matted, tangled, disheveled hair and cringed as she loosened one part from another. She had forgotten how much a bath could mean when stuck for weeks on end in the depths...

Nelson walked to her side, saying: “It’s still hard to believe how far we plunged down into the depths; barely avoided a massive, green-glowing, acidic-filled, boiling lake; not to mention tons of stone that bypassed us on the way down.” His cheeks flushed red from the waters heat and the love-filled look given to him by Elsa. He held u a small rag, a hunk of soap, and asked: “Would you mind some assistance?”

“I don’t mind Nelson. As a matter of fact, I would appreciate the company. Smelling like a meal left in the sun for months on end; ugh, I just want to get clean.” She presented her back to him, patted her tush suggestively, and gave a coyish, sweet look filled with passion meant for him alone. Under his tender ministration Elsa all but purred as her eyes contently closed, lips puckered, earls flattened against her head and back arched forward under his tender ministrations.

Nelson worked with infinite patience, care and attention as he worked lower back, shoulder, and neck then he played along each arm. He teased each of her hands and fingers with a feather-touch, enlivened by a gentle icy-chill generated with a minor magical spell; she giggled more from his consideration than the actual cold, which held no effect upon her. Step by step he worked back to her breasts, and painted each one in a streaming covering of soapsuds; hands flowed down her abdomen, then to her inner thighs as she gasped, groaned, and mewled in heightened arousal.

He asked of her, “How is that Elsa?”

Elsa backed up just enough to push her bottom into his loins, felt the heated desire which throbbed within, and began to sway her hips just so. Her preternaturally keen hearing picked up the delectable thunder of his heart, the surge of his blood; life, pure life which the beast within her demanded, hungered for, pleaded for, and which she denied it in full. She said to Nelson: “Perfect. It’s completely perfect my love.”

Nelsons desires for Elsa grew all the deeper as he sensed the battle of wills between her and the beast within; and when her tail slipped between his legs and gently tapped his member, he almost lost it on the spot. He said: “They say fortune favors the bold and the foolish. I’m more in the latter than the former, so the saying is quite true.”

Elsa looked back over her shoulder and into his eyes, reached her arms back and brought his lips against her neck. Once the first fiery kiss caressed her skin, she let her body melt into his, and said to him in a silken voice filled with desire and damnation: “Nelson, you’re not foolish, nor lacking in courage. We’re adventurers, and that means we gamble with the entire cosmos each moment we live. That is why so many look upon us with envy, desire, anger, rage and even hope from time to time.”

Her body moved and writhed against his, flesh heated by mutual contact, and driven by primal desires and love shared. She moved her hands to his and guided them to the proper spots within the mysterious depths of her inner thighs, and said: “Let me guide you Nelson, so you can know what to do. Here, and here, gently move your fingers like this and…OHHH!” Her eyes flared wide and she took a deep, heated, excited breathe as an electric surge flowed across her body.

Elsa leaned her head back on his shoulder, put one hand back around his neck and lovingly said: “Oh yes, just like that.” She shifted slightly, and allowed her own movement to tease and please his loins, now brought to full erotic bliss and desire. “Nelson, do you want to…OHH, mhh!” she clenched her teeth as a wave of intense fire passed from head to toe, followed by another and another in quickening succession; her mind and body focused on this wild desire and delight, until, at long last, her cry of ecstatic release echoed across the grotto when her climax hit.

Staggered, she let Nelson support her for a time as she regained her breath and said: “Blast it Nelson, you learn so very quickly.” Elsa turned to face him, leaned up to put her arms about him and fiercely kissed him on the lips until he began to smother, then said: “Now let me return the favor, I’m going to…” she paused, confused, then slightly embarrassed as understanding dawned.

“Uh, Elsa, when you got so worked up…” Nelson said, but ceased when Elsa kissed him.

“It’s okay Nelson,” she said and pulled him back under the cascading water, “contrary to what you may have been told, sometimes, when aroused enough, men and women hit their climax faster than intended. It just means tonight I’ll give you some special attention; a cat-girls style of attention that is, when we go for a tumble tonight in the covers, and maybe well into the next day.”

From a small, shallow, steaming pool of water where he bathed Chipper called out: “at the least try to keep it quiet so I can get some sleep.’ He lowered himself back into the soothing hot water, his tail being the only sign of his presence, until it too slowly descended from sight.

Elsa and Nelson touched foreheads and nuzzled one another for some time, glad to be alone and safe. Or as safe as anyone can be, for suddenly the waterfall bubbled and brewed, and a rain of large, smelly, slime-covered fish came down on the two of them as Chipper commenced a wild laugh of pure delight.

When Elsa finished screaming in surprise she whirled upon Chipper, fury in her eyes, fists clenched so tight the skin bled white and her tail bristled; her building growl of indignation built until Nelson calmly came up from behind and embraced her in his arms, gently kissed her on the neck and softly ran a hand down her abdomen.

Gradually, under the tender ministration of his hands, Elsa relaxed and let her rage fly to the winds as she turned and kissed Nelson, clasped her arms around his neck and leaped into his arms. “Carry me to our bedrolls Nelson and I hope you can hold up tonight,” she whispered to him: “say for a dozen or so times; maybe more, and I will scream out at loud and long as I can until Chippers ears ring for the next year.”

As he grinned from ear-to-ear Nelson said, “I would have it no other way my love.”

Elsa grinned and said: “No my love, you’ll turn him into a devil or something; I know you a little too well in this regard Nelson; for it’s exactly the thing I would do.” She giggled with the mischief-filled look he gave her in reply. She fell into his embrace, and luxuriated in the love and life represented by him for her.

₰


​

They came from a network of rat-tunnels which connected to the grottos lower regions. A dozen and more large rat-like Horrors; it’s mottled hide shifted, flowed, and matched the surroundings while twin eyes of grey flame gazed upon the verdant life with malevolent interest. In the distance they heard many faint sounds which gave them pause, suggesting that their quarry is nearby.

They scurried across the stone and plant formations, over roots and fallen statuary and columns which flared with latent magical might. Save for this trail, they were little more than a blur to most eyes which may have seen it in motion.

Finally, having closed to attack range, they spotted the three companions encampment; but the preternaturally keen senses they possessed detected the magical defenses, alarms and traps emplaced about them. They realized that no route was open to approach without a significant risk of detection and subsequent annihilation. As one they repeatedly tried to communicate to the others of its kind telepathically linked in their hive-mind; instead, they came to the startling conclusion of an ancient magic still alive and in place that nullified most such abilities.

A brief tour of the grotto, under eyes that did not miss their mechanical nature, confirmed this lingering magic; it was endowed in the phoenix-statues, and still worked, along with other, graver magic for creatures of its kind. Retreating, they took a secondary route through a little used region of the grotto, toward a place that smelled of lilac and roses.

A place they hated above all else…

A place in which, moments later, they never needed to see, smell, or even be concerned with ever again.

For as they passed a large field of ‘boulders’ humungous mouths extended out and seized the rat-like automata, swallowed them whole and belched. Long ago, it and its brethren had been created to guard a portion of the grotto from the forces of Mechanus; and so they have continued to do to this day.

In the hours to follow, the ‘boulders,’ in reality earth-spirits given solid form and existence, shifted around and communicated to one of their ‘bigger cousins’ which also defended the grotto from harm. Other, even greater forces began to stir in the depths, and the earth-spirits began to sing to one another as they discussed matters great and small which were coming to fruition and what it would mean for their future.

No matter what happened, they would guard the shrine to the death; and they would not allow the three, soon to be four, companions access to the place until the conditions had been met. They knew a time of testing for many was already underway; many had failed and the result was their annihilation in battle, or within the confines of the collapse high above.

One earth-spirit looked upon the mushroom-men who calmly tended to their fungus gardens, pondered current events, and wondered if any of these gentle beings would live through the conflict to come. By days end, over ten more contingents of the rat-like Horrors violated the grotto, and met the same fate one upon another, not one having escaped. So it was that the earth-spirits hoped; for it would take but one to escape, and reveal to Mechanus where a long-denied prize was to be found.

₰₰


​

Nelson stirred the simmering pot of stew, added a few extra herbs and seasoning from a pouch and stirred it for a second time. As he savored the smells that wafted to his nose, he recalled with fondness his mother making such on cold winter evenings. His sigh drew a quizzical look from Elsa that he countered with a sweet smile and said: “It’s almost ready Elsa; a bit of pepper, garlic and some salt will add to the flavor when it’s finished.”

She gave him a nod and returned to studying the ancient journal held in her lap. “Good job Nelson, you’re skills in cooking exceed mine by far. Right now I’m debating whether or not to toss this journal on the flames and just go-for-broke on getting ourselves out of this area; at the least, I think I understand what went wrong with that archway back in the first shrine.”

“What happened?” Nelson asked as he came over with two steaming cups of thick stew. He sat down across from her on their bedrolls and quietly waited as she quaffed down the entire meal in one long pull. “How you do that without gagging or burning yourself is beyond me? So, again, what do you think went wrong?”

“This is going to sound weird,” Elsa began, “yet hear me out. The archway, like the shrine, showed the phoenix-bird images once we cracked the secrets to access it. I think it was part of a magical pathway, similar to the archways we explored earlier in the Labyrinth…” As Nelson drank his stew, Elsa explained at length the functions, abilities, theories and other esoteric lore of magical pathways. It took the better part of two more cups of stew and four hours before she had finished, and giggled as Nelson shook his head in disbelief.

“So if I get the gist of this,” Nelson hesitantly said, “the archway could be set to different places in the entire Labyrinth? And in the process the hair-brained idea we came up with to shortcut around most of the Labyrinth to the Guardian and the Gateway would have worked? Shish…” He threw his hands out wide in disbelief.

“Tell me about it; the fault of that is mine and mine alone.” Elsa declared, abashed and remorseful. She pulled her knees against her bosom, rested her chin upon them and held her arms around them as she continued: “I should have known better; it’s, I grow so afraid at times of making mistakes; always wondering when someone I care about will wind up paying the price for it when I alone should bear such a burden.”

Nelson looked at her and said, “Not your fault Elsa. Sometimes things work, other times they don’t; and there are times we just have to follow our gut and hope for the best, no matter what comes along.”

“Thanks Nelson,” she gave him a sheepish grin as her cheeks flushed. “Should we get Chipper up for his share of the stew?”

She looked over at the sleeping squirrel, curled up tight and snoring like a bellows, and called to him several times…

Blam!
Blam!
Blam!

Elsa, ears pressed against her skull, tail flared flat behind her, cringed as the thunderous retorts echoed across the grotto and sent a flight of small, bird-like forms into a panicked flight. She softly muttered to herself: “I have to teach him a few lessons in tact, decorum, and diplomacy. Though Chipper had it coming.”

“Stews ready Chipper, Elsa tried to wake you so I lent a hand…” Nelson said to the startled squirrel. He just laughed at the sight, Chippers fur standing on end, tail fluffed out like a bristle brush, and nerves taunt and frayed as his teeth chattered in nervous alarm.

As he calmed down the Chipper stared daggers at Nelson and, as he gestured with his forepaws, said: “Blast it Nelson, I was trying to sleep! Why the sudden bang-banging on the kettle? What is so blasted urgent that I can’t get some rest from you two overly romantic love birds?”

“Nothing much Chipper, I just wanted to inform you dinner is ready, and past ready,” Nelson said to the squirrel and silently wove a spell: Chippers fur instantly changed to a riot of coloration as if subjected to a mad artist’s attention. “Besides, you dumped the fish on me and Elsa, so turnabout is more than fair, so long as it’s done in good taste.”

Elsa looked up from the ancient journal at Nelson, then to Chipper and back again. Her eyes rolled up to the heavens as she said: “Oh brother. You two can keep me entertained to no end sometimes. Just keep the pranks to a minimum and don’t cause any damage…” She halted at the wide-eyed innocent look both gave her, and she broke down into a wild stream of melodious laughter – a laugh that carried great joy and melancholy doom.

Soon enough, Chipper and Nelson joined her.

₰₰


​

“Elsa, have you figured out where in the Labyrinth we are? As nice as this little grotto is for a rest, I have no real desire to be caught pinned in place, one way in and out, and facing unlimited hoards of the Horrors. And I have no more intentions of a drop such as we took to get here.” Nelson recalled all too vividly the panic-filled, scream-filled, terror-filled plunge which lasted for a hundred-count and more, before his feather fall spell kicked in and gently guided them down to the stone floor.

Elsa looked up from the journal and said; “It was a close call, too close by far. I think we fell at least a mile or just a bit more. And yes, the thought of facing hoards of Horrors in the grotto makes me nervous. Yet consider this: one way in and out, warded with magical alarms and traps; an old fashion deadfall, and this old ruin we currently inhabit. Solid defenses, plus the grotto has a few ‘critters’ I found on my last walk who are none too fond of Horrors.” She shuddered at the remains of seven mechanical beasts which had been dismembered by the mushroom-men with terrifying ease.

Her hand tapped the journal as she said: “I think we may have gotten closer to the second shrine. The author mentions about flowstone, grottos and even a place filled with old ruins of some underground city. He talked of this grotto in particular.” She pointed to a pair of pillars on which rested a pair of phoenix statues in mid-flight. “As I said, the statues originally contained some potent magic he used; literally a path to traverse this area of the Labyrinth inside a day or less, if I have the story correct. For some reason he dedicated nearly one-hundred pages to just this area of the Labyrinth alone.” She refocused on important matters, “Remember the part in which he wrote – Unliving webs spun by unliving hands? I had assumed those were the crystalline webs we had seen around the Horrors territory.”

Having availed himself of a chance to do some laundry, Nelson came over and sat at her side. He looked to his nearly-dry robes, then to his oriental robe of cloth-of-gold. His eyes strayed in turn to Elsa’s kimono, especially where it had fallen open and revealed her bared breast. “I assumed the same thing, at least until I cast a couple spells upon the webs themselves. The crystal carried a magic within it, and when that was undermined, in this case by my own magic corrupting and weakening it, the crystals shattered; a chain reaction resulted, and in the process I literally, after destroying enough of them between us, brought down a few square miles of stone.”

He paused, and mulled something over as Elsa watched with growing curiosity.

“What is it Nelson,” she asked as Chipper, now returned to normal, rushed up to share in the conversation.

Nelson sighed and looked at Elsa, “They were alive with magic; partly created to support the massive hollowed regions we destroyed, or currently are in, such as the grotto. Now, what if these crystalline-webs were part of the phoenix-archways our mysterious author used in the region? When he battled this Mechanus, which I assume leads the Horrors, what if he used the stored power in them to capture his foe? Would it not create a kind of flowstone forged of magical threads instead of normal stone?”

Chipper said, “Unliving webs spun by unliving hands? Makes sense, he dismembers the one magic of the webs, and uses them to imprison this Mechanus. Note how he distinctly says ‘spun’ instead of ‘wove.’ That may be the first clue we need to find the second shrine.” He paused as Nelson and Elsa looked at him, excitement in their eyes, and then continued: “We find the ‘spun’ material, a cocoon of magically created flowstone; one of the strongest prisons a truly great master can craft. That tells us this author was no second rate magician, and further warns us that Mechanus is not to be trifled with. If by chance we are brought to battle with it, it’s going to be a massive struggle.”

“Great, just great,” Nelson said. “If anything else I can dump a massive blast of gibbering noise on it; though I doubt it will have the same effect as on the scouting Horrors.” Upon seeing their quizzical looks, he explained what had happened in the now-collapsed regions and shook his head as he finished: “There it is nothing great or fancy, its just pure gibberish noise that for some reason drove them nuts, and they acted as if all functionality had been lost.”

“You’re right Nelson, they could not function,” Elsa said with a grin, “Horrors have an insect-like hive mind;
What one sees all see, all know and all share; thus they are extremely difficult to evade, let alone surprise. The entire mass of them are led and controlled by a central intelligence, assumedly this Mechanus. If we can use your discovery to isolate it from the rest, we have a chance of bypassing them; worse case, we can use it to try and take the brute down for good. Assuming we can…”

Elsa looked at Nelson, slipped her kimono to her waste and leaned forward to kiss him. “In the morning we need to devise some tactics and other surprises against these critters. Maybe even strike at a few isolated ones to see if it will work; but that’s for tomorrow.” She kissed him again and again, then drew him down to the ground and purred as she rested her head upon his shoulders.

Chipper closed his eyes, and groaned: “Here we go with the love bird routine again. Elsa when you come into heat nothing will dissuade you from rutting like mad. Just don’t kill him okay, I’ve come to count Nelson as a friend and prospective student who actually, unlike a certain feline lady, listens part of the time!”

₰

​

Deeper in the grotto, in a region hidden away by magic ancient and powerful, a single egg hidden among a pile of debris, humus and fungus began to stir. For hours on end it softly rocked as a pitiful cry sounded from within; then, suddenly, the first faint chip appeared in the gemlike surface. Hour by hour the chip grew into a crack, then two and many more; around it the watching mushroom-men gathered and gently pounded giant ham-hands together in welcome to the one inside.

The mushroom-men’s Shaman, a magician who dealt with spirits great and small, telepathically spoke to the creature still in the egg; it respectfully bowed and departed, determined to speak with the young human whose destiny was tied directly to the egg and the one inside.

₰


​

Nelson looked at Chipper, just a bit alarmed and perplexed, but shortly, he returned his attention to Elsa. “Uh, Elsa, one thing, I know we’re of different species, but…” he hesitated, wondering if he would be damned for intruding on such ground, “can you get…you know…”

Elsa looked at him with shock, stunned by such a blunt statement, and then laughed her melodious laugh of the damned. “If you mean can I get pregnant by you, then no; I cannot have children that way...” She shrugged, "at least I don't think so..."

She rested her head on his shoulder again and softly whispered: “One thing, while we’re here in the grotto, I want to go over everything we have in supplies, magic goods and help you hone your magical skills and lore; some bumps remain,” she smiled and batted her eyes playfully as a half dozen illusionary white doves appeared in her hands and took flight. “But you are making real progress. Even your mental magic is growing in ability, so I have a bit I can show you on that as well…”

Nelson gave her a knowing, wicked, coyish grin of pure delight as he said: “Let me show you your majesty. This is something I have been studying for the last few days since we, uh, dropped, into the region and found the grotto.”

Elsa, curious and bemused, wondered what he had in mind. She knew he had been studying some of the rare, advanced and most intricate variants of illusion-based magic he possessed in his spell book. In her heart, and soul she hoped he would not disappoint, for such a spell drew upon the living memories and imagination of the caster, and made them an intricate weave of illusion, shadow and starlight, and reality.

“Nelson, make sure you’re up to such a demanding casting. This kind of magic takes a toll on the caster and can leave you mentally confused, confounded and befuddled if you botch it in the least,” Elsa duly warned him.

He nodded in understanding and she watched him make a final practice run through the gestures and words needed, then he commenced to cast; and to say the least, she was far from disappointed in the results…

The grotto and the ruins around them transformed into a momentary ripple of shadow and light that swaddled all in patterns so intricate as to defy belief. Elsa gasped, aware that this spell was greater than she had imagined he could actually accomplish at this time in his career.

Nelson got to his knees and genuflected before Elsa as his robes transformed to simple peasant garb. She was covered head to toe in a gown, vest, cape and turban of glittering; gem-studded, cloth-of-gold that gleamed as if a second sun had descended from on high. The region around her and Nelson resolved itself into a magnificent throne room a hundred paces across. Court attendants running here and there; minstrels played; nobles fretted over this trivial matter and that assumed insult. All of the while an iron-hard, stern-faced, no-nonsense master-at-arms and his guard watched over all for the first hint of treason.

Above the thrones dais stood twin phoenix-birds, crafted of purest gold and gemstones, which looked to the horizon and smelled of roses and lilacs.

Elsa stood in wide-eyes shock, and wonderment; even with the evidence before her – the illusion perfected to such a degree even her preternaturally keen senses could barely tell the real from the false. She still shook her head in disbelief. “Nelson,” she asked, excited and chilled in equal measure, “How, how is this possible?”

Her stupefaction grew as she saw he neither wore his magical robed, or held onto his rams-headed staff. Only his kimono, enchanted to preserve it from regular wear and tear, was his raiment over his britches.

Hands held to her mouth, she shook her head, and asked again: “How, how is this possible Nelson? Without the ability of your staff and robe, you should not be able to do this? Even I could not do this so easily and so perfectly, not on the first try; and yet, here it is…”

Chipper leaped upon Elsa’s shoulder and shook his head in sheer disbelief. “Impossible, this is impossible; not even the elder druids of my Order could have accomplished this level of magic without five or more working together. Even I could not have done such without a lot of preparation, study and much more practice.”

Nelson let the threads of his magic dissipate, and grinned as the grotto reappeared. “When we first came here I sensed…” he pondered a moment, struggling for the right words, “the memories, or echoes, of the old ruins in this area. It’s little more than feelings, impressions, glimmers of life and death; a small bit of what once was in this place, and which refuses to surrender to the wear and tear of time.”

Elsa nodded, finally seeing how he had achieved such a first-time display in full detail. “You drew upon your own memories of these echoes; in turn the magic gave them a semblance of life again.” She closed her eyes and shook her head in sadness, “Incredible; it explains everything. Normally such magic as you used here is such that only master illusionists, or those with years of practice and deep understanding and knowledge of magic, would dare to try the spell itself with such boldness.”

“Can you do such as this Elsa?” Nelson asked, genuinely curious about her still unfathomed abilities in the illusionary arts.

A tear trailed down her cheek as she sadly said, “Yes, I can, though most variants I know are designed for the realm of warfare and not entertainment such as this. It would take some extra study and preparation to enact what you have done Nelson; and at one time, before that life-drinker stole so much from me, I could command magic that the greatest of magicians alone dreamed of.”

For a time the three continued their dinner, and discussed other matters far into the night until Elsa at last excused herself, and went off to sleep.

₰


​

Unable to sleep, Nelson sat by the cracking fire and studied his spell book. It still amazed him how, in a book no more than six-inches in thickness; held an unlimited amount of spells, lore, knowledge and the like. What impressed him, and still to a degree surprised and confounded him, was the new realm of priestly magic that Elsa and Chipper were teaching as time permitted.

Out of habit and dedication to his craft, Nelson cast a simple spell, and willed the magical threads of the world to conform to his will. In an instant, a small, luminescent sphere slightly larger than an orange appeared. Within its depths swirled an ever-changing spectrum of coloration – white, blue, green, yellow and orange, and all that lay in-between. It crackled, hissed, popped and pulsated with pent-up power that promised to rend and burn, freeze and crush anything it impacted.

He carefully examined the orb, seeking the smallest defect, flaw or other overlooked feature. To his delight and surprise, he found none. By sheer will, he directed the orb to float up from his hand, and practiced maneuvering it around the fire, up and along the stone walls, and into the grotto itself.

Finally, after many a minute of this and feeling the strain upon his concentration, he allowed the magic to safely dissipate and the orb faded from sight.

“Not bad Nelson, not bad,” Chipper said from his side. “You’re due diligence to your magical trade does you credit. Not many apprentices learn, or possess the same degree of patience, concern and appreciation for their studies; you’ve taken the lesson well: respect the magic, do not fear it. So, do you mind telling me more about that glow-in-the-dark rainbow-ball you crafted?”

Nelson looked at him and said, “It’s a type of magic based on the prismatic spectrum. I like to practice with it, as with some other basic illusions. Hopefully I can get them perfected in time, though I still want to know how Elsa overrode an illusion of my own with hers back after we met.”

Chipper grinned, delighted to discuss the matter of magic with Nelson, and the two talked over this or that esoteric lore and knowledge well into the night. Elsa roused enough to hear the two jest and joke, and even play a game of chess with an illusionary chess board. She fell back into the realm of sleep content, and delighted at the deepening friendship of the two.

Chipper called to her via their mind-to-mind link, ‘Someone sane has to teach him Elsa, you two love birds are more than a handful as it is.”

Elsa's snort of derision at Chippers claim of sanity echoed across the grotto, and caused many of the mushroom-men to gaze back upon her, Nelson and Chipper.

 

Chapter twenty-one will be up and running by Wednesday.