The air grew colder as Kel'dhos descended the winding steps. Thankfully, his eyes adjusted quickly thanks in large part to his darksight. Not that there was much to see. Footsteps echoed through the tight corridor, reverberated all around. Telerek grumbled behind Kel'dhos, muttering about the din. There was no sneaking in this place.
It wasn't much longer until the coiling stairs straightened into a final corridor. Firelight flickered at the base of the stony steps—torches framed a large door, which was slightly ajar. Gnawing returned to Kel'dhos' gut at the sight of the door. It felt eerie. Something about it wasn't right. But he couldn't place his finger on it.
"Strange, isn't it?" asked Telerek. He'd crept forward just a few steps from the doorway. "I don't see any sort of traps."
"I don't sense the Arcane at play either." A blue glow faded as Magnus' hand flourishes ceased. "Though, what lies behind the door is out of my reach."
Kel'dhos found himself rooted in place. He stood on the final step, clutching his Siochainn pendant. He watched silently as Telerek disappeared into the room beyond. Magnar followed soon after. After a few moments, he was left alone.
"Sioch... I need you now more than ever."
One deep breath later and Kel'dhos pushed open the creaking door. His mouth fell open. Four massive murals hung on the far wall. The room widened toward the murals and a tall double door sat in the middle of the second and third murals. Kel'dhos jogged over to the leftmost mural. A smile grew on his face.
Humans and elves mingled in harmony. Dancing, singing and laughing. Tools lay scattered across the fields, while groups gathered at tables reading scrolls and books. Buildings stood half-built off in the distance. A radiant sunburst dominated the sky above. As peaceful as the mural seemed to be, a shadowy figure peeked out from behind a tree, eyes red with malice.
"The Age of Reason," breathed Kel'dhos. He reached out, touching the canvas. Dust came away on his fingertips.
"What was that, laddie?" Magnar asked. He stood near the center of the room, leaning on his warhammer.
"These murals are teachings of Sioch. This one here," Kel'dhos gestured at the artwork. "Is known as 'The Age of Reason.' It was a time of peace and prosperity in the world."
Moving down the line, Kel'dhos explained each one. "The next one here is 'The Fall and Endless Night.' You can see the gods above have retreated, indicated by the darkening sun and sky. The devious creature from the previous painting towers above the mortals below. Their eyes closed to the truth. But even in the blackest night, many kept their faith."
Kel'dhos paused, admiring the few sorrowful mortals, caught in the darkness of blues and blacks, raising their hands to the gods above. He shuddered at the sight of fiendish beings stalking them in the night. Shaking his head, he moved on to the third mural.
"'The Gift of the Moons.'" The others trailed behind him, taking in the art pieces. "Darkness could not hold sway for eternity. Raising the moons high into the sky, the gods cut through the night." Shapes of light, their wings resplendent, dotted the night sky, watching over the mortals. "You can see how the shadowy fiends now cower from the vigilant gods on high."
Kel'dhos stopped in front of the final mural. An angelic being hovered in the center. Silver skin glistening in the radiant light from above. A mighty staff bearing the symbol of Sioch at its head was in their hands, raised high above them. "Incantus and the Staff of Sioch. An ascended being who carried Sioch's power, banishing the fiends of Balnarraz preying on the mortals."
Telerek squinted at the painting from far off. "I've never heard of this history."
"That's because it never happened," Magnus said. He was a few feet in front of the mural craning his neck upward.
"Magnus is correct," said Kel'dhos. "There are no recorded events that match these murals. It's merely a teaching within the Siochainn temples. One that shows we must never lose hope or faith. There will always be a dawn, even when the night seems darkest."
Magnar laughed. "Seems like a lot of trouble just to get that point across!"
Kel'dhos caringly patted the stout barbarian's armored shoulder. "My friend, that was but a very brief and poor summation of the mythos. I will gladly give it the justice it deserves... once we find my father safe and sound."
Opening the ancient oaken door, Kel'dhos and the others entered a musty corridor. Narrow enough for two people to walk side by side, the hall was shrouded in complete darkness and water seeped in through cracks in the stone walls. Magnar grumbled as he usually did, his hammer smacking against the walls. His hammer seemed to hit the walls harder after Magnus told him to be quiet. Telerek moved like a ghost and Val was at the rear of the pack twiddling with her long silver hair.
Kel'dhos reached the end of the corridor. Silvery light streaked downward at an angle from the upper left of the empty room. Dust lingered in the light, unmoving. The air was eerily still.
A blinding flash filled Kel'dhos' eyes. Then came the scrape of metal against stone, followed by a pained yell. When the bright light subsided, Kel'dhos found Beltayne lying on the floor against the wall by the doorway. The snow-elf was rubbing his elbow and looking toward the opposite end of the room bewildered.
"What in the hells was that?" Magnus asked.
Magnar pulled Beltayne to his feet. The paladin cautiously walked forward again, slowly reaching his hand out. Just as the elf's hand entered the first beam of light, another bright flash blinded Kel'dhos. Beltayne, once again, was on the ground groaning.
"Very interesting," muttered Magnus, stroking his beard. He stood inches from the light, examining the beam. After a few minutes, the wizard noted that magic was not the cause of the mysterious barrier.
Telerek drew his bow and launched an arrow toward the opposite end of the room. Kel'dhos shielded his eyes, but no bright light ever came. The clanking of the arrow crashing into the wall was all he heard.
"Very, very interesting," mused Magnus again. He began pacing and muttering under his breath.
What could this mean?
Thinking back to all his religious studies, Kel'dhos tried finding any sort of explanation for the barrier before them. No magic created it. Magnus even said so, and his detection abilities are second to none. Divine intervention, perhaps? If it was intervention from Sioch, it was strange that it was happening here in this abandoned temple.
Kel'dhos stepped up to the light. Clutching his pendant, he closed his eyes and thought of his father. He felt something tugging at his core. Faint whispers filled his ears. Calling out to him. His eyes shot open, darting around the room. The others were by the door talking amongst themselves. It couldn't have been them. He turned back to the beam and said a prayer.
Slowly, he reached his hand into the silver light. He heard cries behind him—the others yelling for him to stop. It was too late. Kel'dhos' hand hovered in the divine beam of light. No flash of light. No shockwave.
"How?" asked Magnus. "How did you do that?"
A smile grew on Kel'dhos' face. "I think... I think Sioch has permitted me to pass."
"That's all well and good," Magnar added. "But how do we get through?"
A rush of air blew through the room from the opposite end. The stillness swept away in seconds. In a flash, the streaks of light flattened, stretching parallel to the ground above their heads.
"Well, I'll be a goblin's ass..." muttered Magnar. He laughed and smacked Kel'dhos on the back. "Good one, laddie!"
Kel'dhos trudged toward the others, who'd jogged to the stone door at the far end of the room. He tried to move faster, but his legs felt heavy. Something cold crept into his chest. His heartbeat quickened with each labored step.
"Hurry up, Kel!" Beltayne called. He was waving Winter's Bite vigorously.
Thankfully, Kel'dhos managed to pick up the pace. After telling them he was okay, they showed him the door—it was plain. There was no writing or adornments, but as he stepped up closely to the white stone, a small hole appeared. Running his hand over it, he realized it matched the one on the pillar above. Quickly, he placed his Siochainn pendant into the hole and unlocked the door. Stone grated against stone as it opened inward.
The chamber beyond was round. A single beam of light streamed in from above, shining straight down to a dais in the center of the room. Six marble pillars were spaced evenly around the edge.
A few steps into the room and Kel'dhos stopped dead. His eyes widened at what he saw. Six figures lay on the ground surrounding the center dais.
No...
Dropping his shield and mace, he sprinted to the nearest downed figure. Falling to his knees, he let out a cry. Tears welled. He struggled to breathe.
"No!"
His father's face stared up at him. Eyes lifeless and cold. Kel'dhos shook his father's body. "Wake up! Get up, Father!" He kept shaking. With blurred vision, all he could do was bury his face into the armored chest of his dead father. He sobbed helplessly.
He felt hands on each shoulder, but he shrugged them off. He wanted to be alone. His father couldn't be dead. The great Cassemir was invincible. Or so Kel'dhos thought. What would his mother say? He'd promised her he would find his father and bring him home. He'd been too many steps behind. If only he'd found this place sooner. Then anger swelled.
If I hadn't gone wandering off to Praldosta... None of this would've happened!
Throwing his head back, Kel'dhos howled before slumping forward.
"I failed."
"Kel'dhos..."
He looked up. Magnus was there. A single tear rolled down the dwarf's cheek.
"He's dead because of me, Magnus."
"No. He's dead of his own decisions." Magnus knelt, placing a hand on Kel'dhos' shoulder. "I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now. But this is not your fault, Kel."
Eyes burning and full of tears, Kel'dhos tried to smile at his friend. He was a good friend. But no words of comfort would assuage this pain. Greater than any physical wound, finding his father dead was a knife to the heart—twisting and turning.
A golden Siochainn pendant hung around his father's neck. Removing it, Kel'dhos held it up. It was more ornamental than the one he'd been given. It was something that had to be earned.
"I have not yet earned this. But I will not leave it to be lost to the ages." He slipped off his own pendant and replaced it with his father's. Holding it in his hand, he said a prayer.
"Sioch. Help me guide my father's..." He faltered at the word. Shuddering, he took a great breath and continued. "I will bear my father's pendant and return it home. It belongs with mother."
A radiance glimmered from the pendant as it flared to life with golden light.
"Sioch approves," he said. He kissed the pendant and let it hang. "He allows me to wear the pendant."
Rising to his feet, he turned and found Beltayne holding a mace. It was Cassemir's. The handle was wrapped with a brown grip. A rounded pommel of silver and gold, a thick steel shaft, and a head with grandiose golden flanges made it an impressive sight. Beltayne held the weapon out, offering it to him. Stepping up to the snow-elf, Kel'dhos gripped the mace.
"'Tis a formidable weapon, Small-Ears. Take up your father's mace. Make him proud."
A genuine smile spread across Kel'dhos' face. "That's quite possibly the most ardent thing you've ever said to me, Bel."
The snow-elf nodded and backed away, turning his attention to the center of the room. Kel'dhos replaced his weapon with his father's. It tugged at his belt when he slid it into the ringlet. It was heavier than his old mace. He turned and knelt beside his father. I'm going to need to work on my melee prowess... I'll make you proud.
"This sarcophagus is still shut..." Telerek stood next to the large stone tomb. "Should we open it?"
Everything within Kel'dhos said no. But his curiosity gnawed at him. "My father and the paladins all died here. Around this tomb. I think it might be a very, very poor idea."
"They were here for a reason, no?" Magnar asked. His voice carried like a boulder rolling down a hillside. "Ya said they were lookin' for a relic of yer god, right? Let's open the damn thing."
"I don't know, brother," Magnus interjected. "Something killed these warriors. Five paladins and Kel'dhos' father. And not a single one of them bears any semblance of a wound."
That troubled Kel'dhos. What could've killed them? Magic? Divine intervention? Something more nefarious?
"We shouldn't open it. But I feel we have to." Kel'dhos and the others stood at the top step of the dais, staring at the sarcophagus. "Magnar is correct. I cannot leave any stone unturned. I must continue my father's quest. I will find the Siochainn relic and return it to its rightful place."
"Ha! Good on ya, laddie!" Magnar placed the head of his maul against the stone lid and shoved with a booming roar. An uncomfortable scraping chewed at Kel'dhos' ears as the lid slid off the tomb, crashing down the steps on the other side.
Leaning over the now open tomb, Kel'dhos found a single item within. A thin veil. It bore Sioch's symbol—a golden 'S' embroidered into the fabric. Silver weaves intertwined along the edges. He carefully grabbed it and lifted it from the tomb. As he did so, the veil disintegrated before his very eyes.
"What in the..." Telerek muttered.
Scratching sounded from behind the group. Kel'dhos spun around. A figure clad in all black stood beside a pillar, its pallid hand clawing at the stone. A long gnarled staff in his grasp, planted into the ground, holding his weight.
"The relic is gone, priest." It was more of a hiss than a voice. Ethereal. Dangerous.
"Who are you, villain!" Beltayne shouted. The tip of Winter's Bite pointed directly at the unknown creature.
A low grumble came from the being as it tapped its staff three times against the floor. Green wisps, deep and vile, slithered from the staff, winding through the air.
"Your search is folly. This is your end..." In the blink of an eye, the being was gone. A puff of black smoke drifted away from where they had just been. The wisps buried themselves into the corpses encircling the tomb.
"By the Queen of Falling Snow... Vile magic. Unholy!" Beltayne charged toward the nearest corpse as it began to rise from death.
Low, broken groans filled the empty room. Heart sinking, Kel'dhos turned and found his father down on one knee, staring at him. Glowing green eyes knifed into Kel'dhos. His body refused to move.
The others leaped into action. Magnar roaring with rage as he bounded over the tomb. Beltayne flourished Winter's Bite with elegance. Magnus incanted, throwing balls of fire at his foes. Val was darting about in panther-form, slicing at the legs of the risen undead. Telerek launched arrow after arrow, each striking true.
With wide eyes, Kel'dhos turned back to his father. The corpse ambled at him, moaning, arms outstretched. The undead were sluggish. But it didn't matter. Backing away, Kel'dhos stumbled over something and fell to the ground.
"These bastards won't stay dead!" Magnar shouted.
Rolling to a knee, Kel'dhos watched as each undead took fatal blows. Yet they groaned and rose back to their feet. They were mindless. Mere husks of their former paladin glory. Including Kel'dhos' father.
He found the familiar face. Pain etched into his face, the dead man picked up his pace. Green mist swirled around him, forming into a blackened longsword. Undead-Cassemir raised the ebony blade high above his head, moving with a deadly quickness.
"What's happened?" yelled Telerek. "They're getting faster!"
Raising his shield in the nick of time, Kel'dhos deflected his father's blade. Staunching blow after blow, Kel'dhos still hadn't drawn his mace. He couldn't. He was locked in a stalemate with the undead being that was once his father. It was trying to kill him. He knew that, but Kel'dhos still couldn't draw his weapon. Instead, he shoved with all his might, knocking his father backward with his shield. The creature moaned when its head slammed into the ground. Wincing, Kel'dhos backed away—heart pounding. His father rose again, and with an ear-splitting screech, charged straight for Kel'dhos.
Magnar's maul slammed into Cassemir's chest, crushing him to the ground in a heap. It was useless. Cassemir rose once more, a smirk on his face.
"I'm sorry... I love you." Kel'dhos gripped his pendant. "Abominations of the dead! Be banished from this realm! Sioch wills it!"
A brilliant flash of gold burst from Kel'dhos, pulsing three times, bathing the room in daylight. The undead screeched and gurgled as the golden light scorched their skin, setting them ablaze. Golden flames smote the creatures. Collapsing where they stood, they were finally still.
Kel'dhos fell to his knees. His father's body lay before him, charred. Closing his eyes, he took a moment for a silent prayer to Sioch. Magnar and Beltayne helped gather the bodies of the paladins and laid them next to his father. Cleansed by divine fire, the remains were put to final rest.
After gathering their things and righting themselves, the group made to leave the dark crypt. With one last glance, Kel'dhos looked at his father and the Heralds of Sioch. More memories hit him like a tidal wave. The first time he'd seen his father cast a light spell. When he guided Kel'dhos through his first martial training lesson—he failed miserably, but his father did nothing but bolster his confidence. He remembered how deeply his parents loved one another. And that was the true grief. Knowing that his mother would be without him. It had always been cruel that death would call his father hundreds of years before her time. Now... Now it would be even sooner.
After a few more moments, and a few more tears, Kel'dhos was ready. The truth was he wasn't ready at all. But he had to be.
He regrouped with the others. Magnus and Beltayne each placed an arm around him as they walked back into the grand temple hall. Kel'dhos heard Val and Telerek speaking about the mysterious figure who raised the dead. It was troubling, but it was the last thing on Kel'dhos' mind.
There, Telerek was quickly moving between orc corpses, rustling through their belongings. As the group neared, he popped up, holding a tattered parchment. "It's a damn poor map. But it seems to show a line from here to some fort to the south."
"These slavers are really becoming a pain in the arse!" complained Magnar. "Leadin' us from one place to the next."
"Calm yourself, brother. As long as we keep finding breadcrumbs, we'll keep following."
"Yeah, yeah." Magnar waved dismissively and started for the exit. "And what the hells was the deal with that creep? Summoning the dead to attack us like that..."
"One thing at a time. We'll deal with that later." Magnus turned to Kel'dhos. The wizard's face softened. It was weird to see him look that way. "Kel... I am sorry about your father. We all understand if you need to leave and go back to your home."
"Leave? No. I cannot leave yet. The relic my father died trying to find is still missing." Kel'dhos forced a lopsided grin. "And Sioch would not allow me to abandon these slaves to a fate worse than death."
Magnus smiled back at him and patted Kel'dhos' chest. "Good man!"
Smile fading from his face, Kel'dhos looked over his shoulder one last time. The temple seemed brighter. It was a sign. One chapter had come to a close.
Goodbye, father. I will finish what you began... I promise.
Now, finally knowing the fate of his father and the Heralds, Kel'dhos steeled his resolve and followed Magnus down the hillside path toward the barren lands in the south.