Book 3: Chapter 11 - Finish Line (RAW)

Just as water holds greater value than gold for a thirsty man, so too does silence in a world filled with incessant noise. Cultivate your silence, contemplate deep thoughts, and you will be able to hear more. To observe without distraction.

- The Living Sword by Fen Vaigorus circa 520 AC.

Continuing onwards at a rapid clip, uncaring of stealth, and the better part of caution, I made my way ever upwards with the clank and jangle of metal echoing my footsteps. No adversary presented itself to me, giving me time to review recent events. The last encounter that ended in violence worried me. More than it perhaps should have. Not that it was a close call, or anything else of that matter, rather it was my lack of self-control.

It had not been ingrained reflex born from conflict or intense training that had moved my arm to block the giant scorpion's stinger, rather it had been something other. My arm had moved of its own volition, admittedly to defend me, angling my shield perfectly, stopping the scorpions attack dead in its tracks. However, it was still most worrying nonetheless. Was I willing to cede a little control to have an automatic means of defense? Where would it end? Was I slowly being taken over?

The voices soothed me. Promising that all was well. I always had ultimate control, whether it was with my magic or my fate. It was important to think positively, especially in dire circumstances. Perhaps I should just think of this as an upgrade of sorts. The Mimic after all had no will of its own, for I had utterly crushed its consciousness, scoured it clean with the voices of my other jealous passengers.

Experimentally, I moved my shield arm, confirming that I had complete control. Summoning and dismissing my shield multiple times, I reaffirmed that it was indeed I who ultimately in control. Like always, it was a disturbing sight, to see tendrils of matter grow out of my arm before forming a construction of thick wood and hard metal. Was it my imagination, or did the shield that I formed look a little more hefty, a little more solid in its constructions?

As an afterthought, I tried to initiate mental communication with Mimic that had bonded with me. I expected an attack of some sorts, revenge for my betrayal, but was instead met only with silence. My feet stopped their onwards progression, stopping me dead in my tracks. Then relief, that release that lightened the heart, washed over me as I released some of the tension and paranoia that had gripped me unknown. Dead, it was truly dead. Dead in the way that counted most, at least. With so many things pulling me this way and that, it was a victory of sorts.

Resuming my onwards march, I was determined to not be sidetracked and defeated by negative thoughts and to focus on my singular goal of getting out of here. Philosophizing on the nature of self and so forth could wait until after I had returned to surface lands, the Bright, as the recently departed Zala had once quaintly put it.

More of the lichen had started growing here, the purples glow of the walls being overrun more with the greens of the mysterious lichen. The type of creature I began to encounter began to change to, instead of them all being universally being blind, some of them began to sport large disc like eyes that glowed in the dark. No doubt this was due to the greater presence of light, and I viewed it as a positive sign that I was getting closer to my goal, the surface.

The wind, the new guide that had picked up Zala’s torch was growing stronger too, another positive sign. In the overall ledger of my current circumstance, accounts were slowly being balanced to the black.

Feeling that I had made decent progress, I sat down on the hard stone floor, placing my helm to my side. Although I felt my body was far from tired, my mind was reaching its limit. Searching for a state as clear as thought from possible, I failed abysmally. My mind was too cluttered from a myriad of concerns and worries, so I began to slowly unpack them. Digesting events and putting things into order helped me to relax.

I idly traced an armored hand through some of the green glowing lichen, Beron’s Dream, as this world deigned to name it. The tingling sensation returned, vaguely pleasant in that it helped to break up the general monotony and served to distract my wind. How easy it would be to fall asleep here, I wondered. Shaking my head, I quickly dismissed that disastrous thought!

Was that thought even my own? Was even the lichen working against me? Paranoia flared hot in a sudden spike as I scrambled to my feet. I stilled myself, slowly forcing my breathing to resume its natural pace as my heart pumped wildly in my chest.

Beron’s Dream indeed! I debated whether I should dispose of my collected samples, then decided it would make no difference surrounded that I was by the ominous lichen. They might make for a valuable alchemical ingredient on the surface, as I doubted few people, apart from the locals I had encountered, ventured into this deep realm. At the very least, I decided to refrain from physical contact with the lichen.

Time to move on.

Moving again, I came to fork. From the left, I could feel the flowing air caress my cheek and from the right I swore I heard the echo of… cats fighting? A ridiculous thought. Still, the goddess had suggested that I should choose the left path. Despite my suspicions it was a clear and obvious choice. A

Choosing the left, I continued my slow ascent in this surreal and alien realm, my way lit now by more than just the golds of my Aura. A part of me almost missed Zala’s inane chatter, and accompanying this thought came a small twinge of regret. No doubt she would have warned me of the dangers of Beron’s Dream, not that I would have chosen a different path.

Almost imperceptibly, as step followed step, the strange purple and green glows began to disappear as the path inclined ever upwards. Air was moving now, cool against my face as it found its way to me. Without the mineral and lichen glow, the ambience outside my circle light was reduced to a dark grey.

Dull colored crystal growths began to appear, sharp thin squarish blocks and odd spikes that lined the the walls. Milky white, they they sullenly refracted my emitted light. A quick Identify later revealed them to be simply salt crystals, but the how and why of their formation here was a mystery to me. I smashed one out of the wall with a stiff kick as a souvenir and potential seasoning for later. A quick lick did indeed confirm that it was indeed salt.

I resumed my march uphill through this purgatory. Was it me, or was it that here in this place where the salt crystals bloomed, had the air begun to lighten, the atmosphere less oppressive?

The path grew wider, the walls growing more distant and apart, the ceiling now higher. There was a whistle now to the wind, bringing with it, I hoped, the promise of potential sunlight and sky. Soon, stone gave way to familiar bleach bone sand and I knew that I had almost escaped my dark hell.

There ahead of me was a patch of lightened gray that I rushed to, unheeding of the drain on my Stamina. Turning a corner I was finally gifted the first hints of light that was not my own. There in the distance was a singular speck, a glorious speck, of blessed natural light.

I continued at a fast jog, the speck growing ever larger as I approached it. Creatures moved away from me, small things that looked like desert rats with large elephantine ears chirped in annoyance at having to give way to this interloper in their kingdom.

Natural light, a weak thing, a soft silver that contested with my Aura in providing illumination. As if possessed I kept on walking, until there was no more ceiling, just the vast expanse of starlit heavens. No longer was I treading the deep dark of the bowels of the earth, but now the more pleasant dark of the old night.

I knelt in the cool sands of the Whispering Wastes, dry relief flooding into me, as the reality of it all hit me. I had at last escaped.