He summoned Al’Ruzan back with a message and began reaching down through space.
Mara-Lin-Jaid’s eyes snapped open and she burst to her feet, distracting him.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Hurry, Terry.
He turned to look back at her, letting his annoyance shine through.
[Terry]: What is it now?
The convenience of her making sudden proclamations had his teeth clenching tight.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Our window for the next layer is closing. If we don’t get there now…
He wanted to dismiss her statement as theatrics or some sort of power play after their earlier argument. But the wide-eyed look on her face seemed to be real.
Either Mara-Lin-Jaid was an amazing actress—and a sociopath. Or…
He pushed his aura deeper, reaching for the layer with an urgency that he didn’t really feel. But humoring the woman cost him nothing, so he fanned his senses out wide.
The first couple of waypoints had been difficult to pin down. Crimson Spear’s senses and memory weren’t human, making it tough to navigate with nothing but his aura.
But he was beginning to feel a connection to those memories, something about re-visiting them in the present was anchoring them in his mind. He wouldn’t have been able to draw a map through the Underworld, but he felt confident that he was narrowing down the general locations much faster now.
When he found the waypoint with his aura, he wasted no time opening the portal. Just to be safe, he anchored another portal in the reverse direction, allowing them to see what lay beyond.
Unlike everywhere else in the Underworld, it was incredibly bright on this layer. Brilliant yellow-red light spread through the portal, illuminating their small cave painfully.
Ben, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and Terry all stared through that secondary portal with trepidation.
A lake of lava spread out before them, the heat emanating through the portal enough to make sweat bead on Terry’s forehead.
Right on the edge of his first portal, a small stretch of rock jutted up from the lava. It was clear from the way the stone arced toward another column before suddenly ending that there had once been connective tissue between the columns sitting in the lava. Something had eroded them in the time since Crimson Spear had made this journey.
Before anyone could point out the obvious issue with this waypoint, Mara-Lin-Jaid was through the first portal, appearing on the far side through the viewing port of the second portal.
A cry of warning died on Terry’s lips as she visibly waved them through, her eyes narrowed with pain.
Terry heard pounding footsteps down the tunnel and turned to see Al’Ruzan rushing toward them. He was about to message the giant that Mara-Lin-Jaid had gone through, when the Duelist bypassed the two of them and took the portal without a halting moment.
Ben and Terry looked at each other in surprise and weary resignation.
“I should be able to hold off the heat for a few minutes. But you’ll need to work fast.”
Terry nodded, bracing himself for the heat, and stepped through.
As he appeared on the other side, a wall of heat hit him like a charging sanguine. He staggered at the stifling pressure, every breath scalding his lungs.
When Ben came through, he closed the two portals and got to work on finding the next layer.
A rush of cool air burst forth from Ben, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the sauna-like surroundings.
As his senses ranged down, he felt sweat dripping down his back, his shirt clinging to his skin. If he wasn’t occupied with searching for the next waypoint, he might have been able to hold off the heat with Master of Light. But as it was, he was forced to suffer while he searched.
He felt Ben stirring his aura, struggling to hold off the scorching air and couldn’t help but recognize that they were working with a time limit.
His senses followed the path laid out in Crimson Spear’s memory, tracing down to the edges of his capabilities. He sifted through the area, feeling a familiarity almost immediately that filled him with hope.
As he narrowed it down further, he couldn’t help but feel like the heat was rising, despite Ben’s best efforts.
“Is it just me,” he said through gritted teeth, “or is it hotter than when we arrived?”
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please hurry, Terry!
He maintained his focus, but cast her a dark look. What do you think I’m—
His thoughts cut off as he saw the three of them squeezing in tight near the center of the rock column. All around them, the lava was visibly rising. When they arrived, it had been halfway up the hundred foot tall column. Now, it appeared to have climbed another twenty feet at least.
Oh, shit…
He redoubled his efforts, focusing his aura in tight. He was close—he could feel it, somehow.
But then Mara-Lin-Jaid cried out in pain. His eyes cut over to see Al’Ruzan on his knees, his body visibly smoking as he wrapped the woman up tight with his arms. Ben had his hands held upright, his face pinched with effort.
He realized that Ben was centering his magic around Terry, giving him the space to work. If he didn’t open the portal in the next few seconds, Al’Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid would be boiled alive.
Making a judgment call, he cut through space, though he knew he hadn’t quite found Crimson Spear’s waypoint. It was close enough that he could make another jump there if they found something hostile on the other side.
The blue-white portal rippled through the air and he cried out toward the group.
As soon as he opened his mouth, searing heat coated his throat, turning his shout into more of a croak.
“Go!”
Al’Ruzan had to physically pick Mara-Lin-Jaid up and carry her through the portal. Behind them, Ben gave a quick nod for Terry to go first.
As he leaped through the portal, the sudden transition from scorching air to the cool, damp atmosphere on the other side of the portal caused a strange reaction in his body.
His lungs spasmed as he gasped for air, the cold stabbing as it made its way down his throat. He felt his pulse beating erratically and a sense of wooziness gripped him.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
But his body’s reaction was nothing compared to Mara-Lin-Jaid. She was collapsed on the ground, her body smoking as she convulsed. Al’Ruzan wasn’t much better, though he was on one knee, his hands clutching the woman with a helpless fervor.
Summoning his aura, he activated Master of Light and began controlling the infrared light around the two of them, regulating it so that the extreme temperature shift didn’t overwhelm their bodies.
Ben appeared a moment later, the pull on his aura signaling his arrival. Terry cut the aura connection, and the blue-white light disappeared.
It took him a moment to realize that the area they’d entered hadn’t darkened—there was still some light source illuminating the four of them.
He flinched in surprise when he spotted two dozen ghouls encircling them with weapons drawn. Another half dozen liches flanked, their auras already summoned.
Any other time, he might have been buoyed by the sight of the familiar undead. But something about their auras and demeanors told him that their party’s presence was less than appreciated.
Discreetly, he began to reach down to the next layer, hoping to avoid any conflict.
A deep ghoulish voice rang out, full of power and confidence.
“If the Outsiders do not release their auras, their lives are forfeit!”
Terry hesitated, glancing back at Ben. Al’Ruzan looked up in confusion, not understanding the ghoulish words.
“What do we do?” Terry asked his uncle softly.
The man’s eyes traced over the hostile group, locking on the liches to either side.
“Listen to them, Terry.” His tone was cautious, but not resigned.
“If you can hold them off—”
Ben shook his head once. “The liches can disrupt your aura, then we’ll be trapped and forced to fight.”
“This is your last warning!”
Terry studied his uncle’s face for one more moment, felt his aura retract, and sighed. He followed suit, releasing his own aura.
[Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: What is happening, Terry?
[Terry]: I think we’re being taken prisoner. Ben says they have a means of disrupting my portals, so we have to play nice for now.
[Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: Will they impede our progress?
Terry looked around, surveying the undead. Ghoulish expressions were never easy to read, but over the years, he’d come to understand their postures better than most.
Ghouls didn’t bluff—that much was certain—but he got the impression from their stances that they’d only attack if provoked. Whether that meant they’d imprison his group indefinitely, he couldn’t say.
But whatever the case, they wouldn’t be able to break free in this moment; the only play was to go along with their orders.
[Terry]: I can’t say. But fighting now would only end with our deaths. Let’s wait and see.
Judging from Al’Ruzan’s face, he wasn’t pleased with the answer. But he didn’t make a move, which Terry was thankful for.
As the ghouls pressed in, a gap in their ranks formed, revealing three ghoul elders standing behind them. They were just as tall as Crimson Spear, their auras noticeable even from a distance. The two on either side had ivory torcs around their arms, while the elder in the middle had another around his neck and a long, black blade strapped to his back.
The three of them strode forward, the middle ghoul with the black sword leading a half-step ahead of the others.
Ben stepped past Terry, who belatedly followed the man. Al’Ruzan rose, casting intimidating looks all around as he stood over Mara-Lin-Jaid, who had yet to fully recover.
As they approached, the leader clacked his jagged teeth.
“Who are you interlopers? How have you made it to the Depths without passing our vassal Clans?”
Ben stared into the leader’s eyes, no hint of fear or hesitation in his expression.
“We have writ from Crimson Spear of the Bloodsplatter Clan. Our mission—”
He cut off as the sound of crunching teeth echoed throughout the cave. The elders didn’t react but Terry could feel their auras expressing their surprise and anger.
The leader leaned forward, his eyes level with Ben’s. Terry could feel the barely restrained violence in the ghoul’s posture.
“We do not mention that disgraced Clan. They have failed our people and have been exiled to the Surface.” The elder seemed to study Ben’s face, looking for some reaction, before returning upright. “They have sent you to your death.”
His aura pulsed out, echoing his words. Terry felt the ghouls react, their spears pushing forward to close in the ring of metal.
Al’Ruzan growled, pulling his own ghoulish spear from his back and whirled toward the nearest ghouls.
[Ben]: Hold!
Al’Ruzan didn’t glance toward the man, but he also didn’t lunge into the nearest foe.
“You did not let me finish,” Ben said, his aura shaping into an insistent gesture that conveyed importance. “We are on a holy mission and shall not be impeded by Children of the Mother.”
The elder on the left bared jagged teeth, stepping forward menacingly.
“An interloper, an invader from another world, dares to speak of the Mother?”
The leader held out a hand, shaping his aura in a way so that Terry couldn’t read the gesture. The other elder backed away immediately, bowing his head in deference.
As the leader regarded Ben, Terry could feel the appraising nature of his look. The ghoul took a moment before speaking.
“Your words are all correct, interloper. But tell me, have you been coached what to say, like a tyghu mimicking its owner, hm?” He tilted his head, his slick red lips peeling back to reveal his jagged teeth. “What do you know of the Mother, or her Children?”
Terry watched Ben out of the corner of his eye, afraid to look away from the elders and have it be misinterpreted as fear or disrespect. His uncle was utterly still, reminding him of the way ghouls could stand without flicking a muscle for hours.
[Terry]: What’s going on?
Ben didn’t respond, spiking Terry’s anxiety.
The leader continued to stare at Ben as the man remained completely motionless. Terry feared his uncle had run out of words or was inexplicably frozen with indecision. He almost interjected in a desperate bid to save them all, but the ghoul leader raised his head before Terry could act.
It was a subtle tilt, a gesture that he recognized, had seen before but couldn’t place.
He was racking his memories, trying to recall when he had seen the ghouls of Wichita make a similar gesture.
The moment seemed to stretch through time, extending well past when humans would have broken their gaze or fidgeted uncomfortably. Yet Ben continued to remain stoically frozen, not even the rise and fall of his chest to indicate breath.
Terry flicked his eyes between the two, not understanding the dynamic playing out before him.
When the ghoul leader broke the impasse, Terry let out a deep breath, as if he had been the one holding it in.
“Someone has taught you to be still, then,” the elder said. “And you speak the language of the Underworld like a native. Curious…”
The same elder on the left spoke up.
“That proves nothing—”
Aura flashed from the leader, overwhelming the shapes of the other elder.
“They may not be of the Children,” the leader replied, his eyes holding Ben’s for another beat before turning to the elder at his side. “But it has garnered the Outsiders the right to speak.”
The vocal elder inclined his head in deference and the leader turned back to them. His aura ranged out as he indicated the quiet elder on his left.
Aura pushed forward, the leader introducing his subordinate by name. It was directed first toward Ben, then passed over Terry. The images he saw were powerful, more direct and prideful than Weeping Rock, but younger than Crimson Spear. Terry didn’t know if that was a matter of age or rank, but he pushed the thoughts from his mind as he absorbed the elders’ name-shapes.
The first image was that of the ghoul himself clutching tight to the dark ceiling of a cave. His eyes were closed, his chest unmoving. Somehow, Terry knew that the ghoul had his eyes closed to prevent the reflection of light on his pupils.
Another image flashed, that of the ghoul dropping below, his bone-claws latching onto the back of some unknown creature.
There wasn’t a hardcoded name to the images—there never was with the ghouls—but he still felt like the sensations and memories formed a cohesive title that conveyed the ghoul’s name.
In this case, Terry referred to him as Silent Death.
The leader paused a moment, letting them digest the name-shapes, before indicating the outspoken ghoul on his right. More images appeared in Terry’s mind, conveying a sense of momentum and violence. It was a confusing series of memories where the elder fought off multiple attackers with spinning movements that defied the eye.
After the images stopped, he interpreted the sensations and feelings into a name—Whirling Bone.
When both flanking elders had been introduced, they turned to their leader and projected their auras as one.
The depth of the images eclipsed the simple sensations of Whirling Bone or Silent Death. A kaleidoscope of emotions, fights, triumphs—and defeats—flickered through his mind. None of them seemed to have any bearing on the leader’s actual name, but instead served as a catalog of his deeds that rang out as a sort of ode to his leadership.
When the shapes began to dissipate, a single image appeared—the same obsidian sword strapped to the leader’s back visible in Terry’s mind. After a moment, the sword faded, revealing their clan name.
He knew instinctively that this clan was the Fleshripper Clan, and that their leader was Obsidian Blade. There was a weight to his name that felt old, giving the impression of centuries, not decades.
As the two elders released their aura, Terry wondered about the rules of the greetings. While the elders had been introduced, then introduced their leader, none of the other ghouls in attendance had let out so much as a flicker of aura.
Since the weaker elders had been introduced by Obsidian Blade, did that mean he or Al’Ruzan needed to introduce Mara-Lin-Jaid? Was Ben supposed to introduce them?
Did any of them even warrant an introduction?
A glance back revealed the girl was unconscious, though the movement of her chest showed she was still alive. Al’Ruzan was still eyeing the surrounding ghouls like he was waiting for them to attack, so Terry decided he would just introduce Ben as the elders had done for Obsidian Blade.
But as he opened his mouth to speak, Ben shaped his aura first.
He might have thought he had misunderstood the order of things, or perhaps Terry hadn’t proved himself to the ghouls and therefore it wasn’t appropriate for him to introduce Ben.
Then, he saw the memories Ben was pushing out and felt his mouth open in shock.
It was an image of him! Through Ben’s aura, he saw flashes of himself running through the liminal layer’s chasm as the sanguine swarmed. Brief glimpses of the sanguine filtered through—a thousand and more—as they prepared to dive upon the remnants of the Bloodsplatter Clan.
Then, he saw his hands raise, his face clenched tight in concentration. Blinding, yellow-white brilliance seemed to burst forth, as if summoned by gods themselves. The flying sanguine were shredded by the flowing light, turning to ash before dusting the rocks below.
When the vision ended, Terry found himself staring at Ben in shock.
The name Ben had given—his name—was Lightbringer…
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