Christopher Kellen - Elegy

That was ludicrous, of course.

Cautiously, so as not to step on a soggy piece of wood and end up tumbling headfirst down the flight of stairs, for he knew not how far into the darkness below that they would extend, he began to descend the stairs. After several steps he reached a landing, and found that they continued downward a few feet away.

Halfway down, the steps turned from wood to stone, and still, they continued downward.

When he had touched on several landings and still the stairs continued down, he began to wonder just how far into the earth this cellar went.

Finally, when he came at last to ground once again, he looked around and could find no further stairs continuing downward. He looked up, back the way he had come, and of course there was no light at the top of the stairs to indicate how far he might have descended into the earth. If he’d had to guess he must have been sixty feet below ground level, but he had never heard of such a cellar being dug before, and certainly not in the low quarter of Calessa.

This, then, must be a passage to some kind of ancient ruin, he thought to himself. He wondered if the citizenry of Calessa were even aware of this staircase. It crossed his mind to wonder who had built such a massively deep cleft into the earth, and whether or not he should be concerned about its denizens.

The manna trail had clearly led him down the stairs, down here into the earth, but he had no idea which direction to begin moving in. The darkness was chokingly thick here, closing in around him and making him feel claustrophobic, although there were no walls nearby that he could detect. The thick smell of dust filled his nostrils, but he was mostly glad to be rid of the scent of mildew and rotten flesh. It seemed to him as though perhaps no one had been down here in centuries, but he knew that would not be the case, as some evil was lurking down here, waiting for something… although he knew not what, exactly, it would be waiting for.

He held his sword aloft, trying to get his bearings. The staircase seemed to touch down in the middle of a large room, and in no direction did the blue light reflect off of any structures except the staircase itself.

A red glow caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He whirled to face it, and suddenly realized that he had been lured into a trap.

He could now see the walls, reflecting the glow of the beast that lurked down here. As the glow brightened, it revealed a shape that was not unlike that of a wolf, but larger, stronger, more deadly. Its eyes gleamed brightly with that same dull, angry crimson light that seemed so common in the enemies that he faced, all driven by hatred, anger and corruption to become the evils that they were.

It took a few steps toward him, releasing off puffs of corrupted manna fire as each humongous paw touched the ground. D’Arden took one step back, and then another, and the creature continued its forward stride, closing the gap with each foot it set forward. It bared long, white teeth that gleamed violet in the combined light from them.

“So, the Arbiter has come to visit,” the creature slavered. “I’ve been waiting for you to find my lair.”

As it came further into the light, D’Arden felt his blood run cold. The thing was three times the size of a normal wolf, and its fur was a thick charcoal black, looking as though it had been set on fire several times, and in fact, it still reeked of burnt hair. It began to circle around to his right and the Arbiter sidestepped, making sure that his sword remained between him and the beast.

“What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me?” D’Arden asked, hoping to keep the beast distracted while he studied it, looking for some sign of weakness that he might be able to exploit. His initial once-over did not reveal anything promising. “How could you have possibly known that I was here?”

The beast laughed, a grating, rumbling sound that was only barely recognizable as such – anyone less versed in the ways of the fel beasts would have simply taken it as a warning growl. “Good try, Arbiter. You won’t fool me that easily. My master would not take it lightly were I to divulge his secrets.”

“So you admit to me that you’re not the master here?” D’Arden said, intentionally bear-baiting the beast. “You admit that you’re still little more than the forest creature you once were, but now domesticated and good only for lapping at your master’s feet and chasing bones like some dog?”

The fel wolf started to growl, but it caught in the creature’s throat and turned into a chuckle. “I see your game, Arbiter. I am not simply a beast that can be prodded and goaded into a mindless and thoughtless attack. I am more than what I came from.”

“I’m not sure I see it,” D’Arden said, still circling around the creature as it attempted to circle him. “I think you can be provoked just like any other beast of your nature can.”

“Try me, Arbiter,” the beast said with a hideous grin.

Without breaking his circling stride, D’Arden summoned up some of the manna he’d stored during his trance and focused it into his off-hand. A blue fireball began to build there in his palm, lighting up the room more fully. It grew until it was a blinding white, brilliant focus of purified manna energy that snapped and crackled exactly like real fire, except that no sound issued forth from it at all.

“An impressive display,” the fel wolf growled. “Dare you use so much of your power all at once, Arbiter? I think it would weaken you too far, and if you missed, could you still fend off my assault?”

“Even the splash of this pure energy would weaken you,” D’Arden spat back at him, the light from the manna fire-ball pleasantly warm against his skin. “I believe that we would be on equal footing afterwards.”

The beast snorted. “You know so little, Arbiter. You speak of purity, and yet you have no idea what purity is. Are your stuffy morals and defense of the weak really pure, Arbiter? In my eyes, power is pure. Unfettered, wholesome power that knows no boundaries and no limitations. Power that you could have yourself, Arbiter, if only you would let go of your petty morals and sense of justice.”

D’Arden rolled his eyes, almost losing his concentration on his manna fire-ball. “Really?” he asked. “You, a corrupted and twisted thing that barely resembles its lupine parents for its descent into decay and madness, dare to lecture me on such things? You dare to try and tempt me away from my path? The very thought is ludicrous!”

“Not so ludicrous after all!” the beast roared as it leapt at him through the air.

D’Arden was nearly taken off-guard by its assault, for which he cursed himself inwardly. He had been trying to catch the beast off its guard, but instead he found that he was the one caught. Although his concentration on his manna attack had waned slightly, still he brought his left hand forward in a powerful, open-handed strike motion, throwing the collection of manna at the oncoming beast.

It exploded against the fur with a flash of white light and a sound like thunder echoing in the stone chamber far beneath the earth. The beast was caught fully in the chest by the blast and flung backwards, its forward momentum completely reversed by his powerful counterattack. The fel wolf flew backwards with a howl and slammed against the far wall.

D’Arden watched with satisfaction as the manna flames began to devour the beast.

His satisfaction quickly died as the beast stood up and shook off the cobalt flames, the red glow in its eyes not dimmed in the slightest. D’Arden found his resolve shaken slightly; the beast had weathered a strong blow – not his strongest, certainly, but dangerous nonetheless – without so much as flinching.