A Random Encounter

Corven huddled in the cold, damp corner of the stone corridor, his knees pulled in tightly toward his chest. Every breath caused a pain that left him pining for more air. He held a torch out in front of him, wielding it in both hands. The soft light waned as its oil soaked rag burnt near-dry, the flame threatening to vanish into darkness. Corven stared into the dull flame, his brown eyes shifting to amber in response. I’m never getting out of this place. There must’ve been twenty of us thrown in here. How am I all that’s left? Why me?

Bones clinked in the distance, their subtle clatter growing closer.

Corven’s heart sank as his breath left his body. He put a hand to the ground to push himself up, his bleeding palm landing on the mold covered slabs. It stung, but he pushed through. His shoulder scraped against the carved stone as he stood, his pursuer moving ever closer.

Two green glowing orbs turned the corner. The skull they sat in pointed directly at Corven. A naked, fully formed skeleton wielded both shield and sword, and raised its arms. Its bones ground against one another between its jaw and hinge, creating a chilling shriek.

“Good Ghedir, not again, not again,” Corven whined through gritted teeth. He limped with haste along the corridor, the flickering light of the torch growing dim, like the darkness itself was trying to steal it.

Shadows swirled as the skeleton advanced, its sword clattering against the grey bricks. The floor beneath Corven creaked and cracked, the ancient mortar succumbing to its inevitable end. Corven’s weight was the final straw as the ground imploded into a lower chamber.

Corven fell through the sloped earth, about three stories, until he crashed into a small stream that quenched his torch, darkness consuming him. Two glowing eyes stared down into the depths, lingering. They steadily moved away, with their quarry now out of reach.

He should’ve seen it coming, the floor had groaned and cracked when he’d last trespassed there. But where could he have gone? The monsters of the dungeon had already killed his happenstance companions, and the only other option was toward the wandering skeleton.

As Corven lay partly submerged in murky water, he couldn’t help but recall the events leading up to it. He was several hundred feet below ground, and had been for around twelve hours, but it felt far longer. He remembered the faces of the twenty something, dreary locals that followed the word of the Archon, “Within the depths of the fallen fortress, there will be treasure beyond your meagre minds can comprehend! All that you claim is yours to bear, but the Tome of the Oracle must be surrendered to me!” Corven almost laughed, would it not be for the pain in his chest prohibiting him from even trying. The Archon had kept his promise. Everything that his neighbours had found, would remain with them, underground, for eternity, unreachable by daylight, or hope.

All manner of creatures crept towards Corven, as he remained still in a round, unfurnished chamber. Spiders, insects, flies and slugs moved ever closer before a soft blue light emanated from the centre of the room. The bugs scattered in response. Corven slowly opened his eyes, bleery and confused. He tried standing up, but his knee gave way under his weight. He gritted his teeth as a searing pain shot through his leg, but it passed as he finally managed to get himself upright.

The light came from an object that sat on a plinth in the centre of the chamber. Its colourful hue pulsed gently, filling the room with a cold ambience and an aura of immense power.

Is that it? How have I found it? He smiled with excitement, his heart racing faster than before the fall. It was the perfect treasure, the very thing he’d been seeking. Surely it would be what freed him from this nightmare. He’d already given up hope of finding it, and for the last six hours he’d simply been trying to find his way out. Simple did not mean easy, however. He’d encountered plenty enough zombies, skeletons, bloodsucking mosquito-bats the size of his head, and even a floating octopus-like creature that had a knack for snuffing out light sources.

Corven fell forward, his entire weight crashing into the plinth, a stabbing pain shot through his spine as he landed. Is this really it?

Corven raised a hand, it trembled as he ground his teeth down to bear the pain. He continued to motion forward, then felt numb from the waist down, but remained stood, his frame stuck in anticipation. Then he touched it. His hand laid upon the open pages, the parchment feeling older than the realm itself, as his fingertips brushed over it. The light grew brighter and brighter, the blue turning a blinding white that erupted across the chamber walls, scorching Corven’s eyes. The book slowly elevated off the plinth. The pages turned with increasing pace, the flutter building into a thunderous crescendo. The tome exploded into oblivion with a wave of power and light that threw Corven back to the ground, knocking him unconscious.

The light along the walls coalesced into waves of white and blue specks that encircled the chamber, steadily moving with a new gentle pace. It shifted from the plinth toward Corven, slowly drifting over him until it landed upon his chest, and then sank into his skin.