The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling Ch. 08

"We are walking now through the tombs of the high nobility of the old Summer Court," she said in wide-eyed awe. "Look here, these runes form a name -- the High Magister Cearthach. Cearthach an Crionna -- Carthage the Wise. This is the elder creator of the Itheoir. This is not the magister himself. This is Uilliam MacCearthach, the son of the magister we seek. It was Liam's tragic death at the hand of a necromantic curse woven by the Undying King Kereth'Uul that caused the magister to craft the counter to all sorcery. And look there's more..."

"We cannot linger," said wary Tallia who understood virtually none of what the sidhe spoke. "These halls are guarded and we are now visible at distance thanks to the light."

"Oh, right," said Mela. "But the point is this is the lineage we seek, which means the portal must be close."

Mela's words were soon proved right. Within the hour, they navigated the tangle of dark passages and once more discovered the great door. It was just as impressive as it was before but in the full light they could appreciate its splendor even more. It remained twice the height of a man, crafted entirely of finely worked black stone and covered in murals depicting armored sidhe warriors. But now, Mela approached holding her torch and began to read the ancient runes aloud.

Even as the sidhe was busy with the runes, Tallia made a grizzly discovery. He found a pile of pulverized bones only a few paces from the large door. The company had actually travelled right by them before, but had missed their presence because of the faint candle light.

"Corpses!" said Tallia.

"Sons of Arion," said Liandra. "Look -- that skull resembles a ram's head but the rest of the body is almost human. They are long dead, though."

"So, many broken bones," remarked Tallia, closely inspecting the kills. "Look here! The rib cage is completely collapsed. The breast bone is almost a powder."

"Something attacked them with vast strength, no doubt," observed the priest. The sidhe though largely ignored their grisly discovery and continued her examination of the door.

"The runes here mark this as the Magister's Gate," said Mela, full of awe. "It warns to only enter here if you seek the collegium of Gaelynglas. As large as this door is, it was not the main gate to the city. That actually once connected to the surface."

"We saw no evidence of such an entrance when we circled the fortress," observed Tallia.

"I suspect the main entrance must be long collapsed and destroyed," said Mela. "The warning says that unless you have been given the words of entry, you will face 'the wrath of the gods that walk'."

"So it is cursed," said Tallia warily.

"Not directly. I feel no sorcery on the door itself. I think they are just referring to the guardians. If I'm reading this right, there are three of them."

"More good news." sighed Tallia, "We face three demons instead of one."

"It does mention how to get to the collegium on the White Isle. 'Only those bearing the words of entry should walk the Magister's Road.' So that's where we need to go. There is yet more here -- it's a song, a poem."

"What does it say?" asked Liandra curiously.

"It's in my tongue, so it does not quite scan in Imperial. But roughly it says,

Past the graven gate a Cruel death awaits

For A bold raider, the thief, or Invader

So eager to take, thus Reap the same fate

But now consider, another road hIther

Let go of Dire hatE, seek Another gate

Then may you enter, join'd in our Splendor

And that's where it ends," said Mela.

"Strange," said Tallia.

"I think it's a prayer!" said the priestess.

"It may be a riddle," ruminated Mela.

"So the door is not cursed, then?" asked the Amazon, ever impatient concerning such matters. "Does that mean we can open it?"

Mela nodded and so Tallia gave the doors a great shove. The Amazon was surprised by how comparatively little effort it took to open the door. Whether this was because of its fine craftsmanship and perfectly balanced construction or some remnant of sidhe sorcery, who can say? And in the Amazon's mind they were much the same anyways.

Regardless the door opened and beyond was something that took away the breath of the entire company. It was a cavern, true, but a cavern of such immense size that it beggared the imagination. This was a subterranean space beyond anything they had ever experienced. Even Melaerryn who had heard stories of the great undercroft was staggered by the awesome reality of what filled her eyes.

The great cave opened into a vast dome that soared upwards as tall as a hundred men at least. The ceiling was adorned with countless massive formations of flowstone, each of such delicacy and variety that while they seemed certainly natural they also gave the impression of being the works of a million artisans. These formations were each encrusted and intertwined with countless shards of some strange purple crystal that blazed a cool indigo. This pale purple light illuminated a cavern of such massiveness that contemplating its scale was almost beyond the capacity of a human mind. If it was a hand wide, it was a mile. And how far it extended back into the dense violet gloom, none could say.

They stood perhaps half a mile from the shore of a great sunless sea, its surface still as obsidian glass. It reflected the purple radiance emanating from above like a vast mirror. All along the sea's shores to both the left and right of them was a sprawling metropolis of ruined buildings, fallen towers and unknowably ancient structures of mysterious purpose. In front of them, between the gate and the shore, was not a city but instead a wide road of smooth tile that lead straight to the shore. And on either side of that road was a field full of the same sort of rising flowstone formations that adorned the ceiling. Only these gave no light, instead reflecting it, twinkling and shimmering like a forest of fallen stars.

"Behold, lost Gaelynglas, the city of Glittering Delights, called in the tongue of men Sambhala," said Melaerryn almost weeping from an overwhelming wave of wonder at its rediscovery and sorrow at its loss, "once the heart of the Summer Court in the ages when men and sidhe shared this world as kin and cousin."

Liandra could only take in the awesome majesty of it all. "Lord and Lady of Love," she whispered in quiet reverence.

Tallia too was taken aback for several moments, but then brought back to reality. "We have to cross that sea somehow?"

"Yes," breathed the sidhe, still rapt in veneration.

"So, we need a boat then," said the Amazon firmly in the face of all this archaic majesty. "Do you think there might be one in those ruined buildings over there?"

"Perhaps," answered Mela. "It's worth a search, certainly."

"Tell me, are there monsters in the sunless sea?" asked Tallia.

"Perhaps. The stories speak of an unseeing spirit bound by the ancient sidhe sorcerers. But I suspect that this spirit may be a legend or perhaps a metaphor for their ability to control the water itself."

"It isn't," said Tallia.

Mela started at the Amazon's iron surety. "How can you be so certain?"

"But because they never are," said the Amazon with a shrug. "Whenever anyone says, 'there is an ancient legend of an eagle that eats human flesh in those hills' let me assure you, the damned thing is real and it will eat you. There is definitely some sort of monster in that sea and I suspect some in that haunted city we're marching towards as well. Trust me, I know these things. I'm a professional monster hunter."

"Oh," said Mela.

"Don't let Tallia get you down," reassured Liandra, with a giggle. "She's just a little perpetually pissed about losing her cock."

This also genuinely startled the sidhe, who took a moment to appraise the naked warrior, clad only in leather harnesses who travelled with her. "How do you lose a..."

"Long story," said Liandra.

"Very long story," interrupted the nude and definitely dickless Amazon. "Come on. We remain exposed and out in the open."

The trio made their way towards the ruined city. Despite the rough stone and their bare feet, they made good time. Tallia allowed them no rest on the open ground. While she saw no immediate danger or sign of demons, this open subterranean plain made the Amazon instinctually nervous. The silver brand and its bright rune-light only heightened her worry. Between the possibility of the wizard's patrols and whatever ancient horrors might still stalk this sidhe city, she wanted to get under cover quickly.

After two long hours, they finally made it to the city's outskirts. As impressive as the architecture of Gaelynglas had been from afar, the city itself exceeded their every expectation and imagination. The buildings were entirely stone without a trace of wood or thatch, clay or plaster. Every huge block of masonry seemed perfectly fitted together. There were no signs of mortar or crude binding mud here. Instead weight and craft alone held these splendid edifices together. And upon every exterior surface, the dark stone was graven with countless murals, markings and friezes -- most masterpieces of the sculptor's art.

From afar, the stone appeared to be one color, but close this was revealed to be illusion. Instead the stone was actually a thousand dark shades -- deepest purples, slate greys, burnt umbers, polished viridians and purest blacks. Splendid Gaelynglas made even the palaces of the greatest city Tallia had ever known, Yaath'Xin, look like work of impatient and unschooled amateurs. Even now, in decline, it seemed some sort of pinnacle of craft and culture.

Finally, they found some shelter in a long columned hall at the city's edge. It seemed an important structure and the sidhe suggested it might hold secrets relevant to their search. And Liandra and Mela both by now needed a rest and some water and food. Their shoeless march was beginning to take its toll. Tallia, not even winded, instead kept vigil. Despite the pervasive staggering beauty of this place, it also had an alarming ambience that made the Amazon suspect that some lingering curse stalked this ruin.

They finished their rest and repast rapidly and continued on. They crossed the hall cautiously. At the far end of the hall, there was a statue that gave the trio pause. The stone monument was as tall as two men. It eclipsed the artistry of every piece of stonework in this hall. It depicted a nude curvaceous woman with the head of a crow. She bore a curved stone dagger in each of her outstretched hands. There were no seams anywhere upon the piece and the statue looked as it was carved from a single piece of slick obsidian. It was deep black and though obviously ancient, revealed not a single crack, mar or imperfection.

Melaerryn was entranced and recognized the subject immediately. "Marragyn," she whispered. "The crow-head maiden goddess of death and prophecy, war and..." she paused in sudden horrified realization, "protection."

As she spoke that last word, the statue moved. It turned its head slowly and with dark eyes peered at the sidhe who gasped, "The stone that walks!"

The statue said nothing in answer to this naming. But it did continue to shift and move. As it took its first step off its pedestal of black stone, its enormity was made clear. The ground trembled at the weight of its heavy step. The feminine nature of the figure might imply that it should move with grace. Quite the opposite -- the obsidian queen instead lumbered towards the quaking Mela. It stretched out its obsidian limb and swung at the sidhe. But it was not yet close enough to connect and instead slammed the limb into the ground. Stone shards flew from the unimaginable force of the impact and one cut deep into Mela's collar, blood staining her cloak.

Tallia saw the peril immediately. "Get back!" she cried. Mela immediately did as she was told, bleeding and fleeing forward, away from this horror. The stone demon did not relent in its pursuit. It took great thudding strides and rushed towards the trio. Tallia gauged its speed even as she drew her sword. While she might outrun the thing, but she suspected both of her companions would lose such a race and quickly. She had to fight this monster which she had been assured no mortal weapon could harm.

"Flee! Hide!" Tallia cried to her companions, "I'll hold it off!"

She decided to meet its charge. She ran straight at it, letting out a fierce war cry. The thing of living stone gave no answer to her charge, its countenance unmoved and unaffected by her heroism. Instead, it brought down both of its outstretched limbs in a fearsome downward arc. The obsidian seemed almost to become liquid, allowing the statue to move like a supple creature of flesh and bone. But its flesh still retained the weight and resilience of stone. The dagger hands came crashing down at the charging Amazon. She dodged one blow and then the other and slid agilely between its legs. She then tested the stone statue against her own sidhe-metal blade.

She hit its right ankle as hard as she could. Mela's silvery sidhe-metal actually made a small crack and scratch into the otherwise flawless stone-flesh. But the ankle was as thick as a twenty year old cedar trunk. She could make a thousand such shallow strikes and the limb would still retain its integrity.

The living statue spun about and again brought down its heavy stone hands that slammed into the floor like great mallets. The Amazon dodged first left and then right, avoiding the two blows. But this obsidian demon was not near as slow on its attack as Tallia had hoped. She avoided the second only by inches. She leapt backwards but even this agile, pantherlike maneuver bought her only seconds. The statue was fast upon her, silent but intent and swinging its two hands like stone maces.

Dodging this horror's relentless barrage of blows required intense concentration and constant motion. Tallia knew instantly that time was not her side. It was only a matter of time before she stumbled even slightly. And then she knew that her bones would end up just as shattered as those pitiful Sons of Arion seen beside the Magister's Gate. Gods on high and in hell, she needed to find a weakness! Maybe the eyes?

The statue again lashed out at her. Instead of diving once more aside, she leapt and ran up the arm of the thing. The obsidian was slick beneath her bare feet and so precarious was her perch that she immediately regretted the maneuver. She did manage to lunge forward close enough to stab the point of her sidhe-sword into its left eye. The eye proved of no different composition than the rest of the damned thing. Again, her blade made a small crack but this seemed not, as far as she could tell, to distress the demon in any way.

It shook its arm and this sent Tallia reeling. She slammed into the ground with a heavy painful thud. She retained sense enough though to scramble away, barely avoid two bone-crushing blows. Gods, that was too close! She took to a full out run trying to gain even a moment's respite from this ceaseless onslaught. This paid no dividends. The damned thing, when it got to speed, could really move! It's lumbering gate turned into a fast stride with impossibly long steps.

She had never faced a foe like this. It seemed to have no vulnerabilities. That thrust into its eye had been full on and forceful. She would have shattered a man's skull with that attack. Against this statue -- her attack barely left a mark. It gave no sign of feeling pain. It did not bleed. It did not tire. A grim realization seized her. Perhaps this was the last milestone of the road of heroes. She had at last met a foe too fearsome. Hilarius was proved right after all. Pride had led her to the gates of hell and, at last, her doom. She should have fled when she had the chance.

She did have one thing going for her. She wasn't yet, despite the frenetic dodging and dancing with this relentless horror, at all tired. Her Amazonian endurance was again proving it's worth. She smiled. So, if this is to be my last dance then let's dance, fucker.

Thus began Tallia's dance of death. There was nothing for her now but this vital motion, this unpredictable weaving, this profound awareness of her enemy's every impending hammer stroke. She wasted no time on attack. There was only the dance. Every step prolonged her doomed life and gave her companions a chance to flee.

This frenzied frolic went on for minutes and though there was no audience since her friends had long ago fled this cursed hall, she gave a performance worthy of the gods. She dodged and weaved, she gamboled and bobbed. Every furious yet silent swing this thing made, she anticipated and avoided. She dove and whirled, she spiraled and spun.

She kept the crow-headed obsidian goddess constantly in motion. Sweat poured from her powerful frame and yet she did not relent. This was madness! And yet still she danced. What choice did she have? Dance or die. And then she saw it. At last, as she danced, she understood this monster's weakness.

How many would it take, she wondered?

She found within herself a burst of speed and ran straight towards the nearest pillar of this vast columned hall. The creature followed and again brought down its hammer hands in a powerful arc. She made sure that she used the column itself as cover and the statue very obliging crashed the stone pillar into dust. The vaulted ceiling of the hall groaned and shifted.

She ran to the next support and seconds later another pillar was destroyed by this unceasing engine of annihilation. Shattered bits of stone sprayed into her and cut her face and arms. But she could not let that slow her. She must dance!

She fled to another pillar and still the statue was on her, matching her speed and pace, slamming its great fists into the stonework. She was gasping for breathe and still she danced. Dance with me, demon!

The pillar took the brunt of the brutal blow and slid slowly off its plinth. The entire roof of the hall began to shudder, shift and twist. The other pillars in this hall began to tremble under their new share of weight. Bits of loose stone rained free and clattered again the marble floor. And still she danced toward the next pillar.

Not fast enough though. At last, she was a step too slow. The tireless thing slammed its obsidian dagger hand into her left thigh. The blow picked her up and sent her flying. The force of the blow was tremendous and her leg alit with pain. It was only by a miracle of her inhuman resilience that her leg bone was not shattered. She spun wildly and slammed her back into the next pillar. The statue did not pause and charged her, ready to deliver the killing blow. But Tallia despite the pain was still dancing and she ducked beneath the blow at the last possible moment.

Four. Four was the answer. It took four destroyed pillars to bring down the great hall. The collapse started at the now largely unsupported far end where the obsidian statue had once rested on it raised dais. One by one, each of the remaining pillars received the full weight of the hall's roof and failed their test. This once hallowed hall became a hailstorm of collapsing marble.

One final dance. Even through the pain, the Amazon weaved towards the nearest archway. The demon of stone showed neither fear nor concern nor relent in its pursuit. But it was far larger than Tallia and thus could not dodge this torrent of stone. And though it was fast, it could not dance. Great slabs of collapsing marble slammed into it. They did not overly damage it, but at last they did bury it.

Bruised and bleeding, Tallia fled from the collapsing wreck and watched as at last the stone guardian ceased its movement only after being buried beneath uncountable tons of fallen masonry. At last, she stood motionless and finally caught her breath.