Long hallways of intricately carved stone stretched out as the behemoth gates of dwarven design swung open. Two of the three guards took their places at each side of the great gates. Borrin led Ren forward with the dwarf who had been holding him at cannon point remaining outside.

  As Ren stepped through the threshold the wide doors slowly began closing. The remaining two guards swiftly moved back into place as the shadow again came alive around the entrance.

  With the great stone doors closing, and the shadow illusion now cast again, Ren was cut off from the outside world.

  “Now then, Ren. How are the human colonies of the West these days?”

  “Oh, well, I’ve only seen one of the big cities. Plus a small town too. I don’t know much about it all, to be honest.”

  “The humans built cities here in the West? Well, I do suppose it has been a long time since our people have been separated…” Borrin trailed off thinking.

  Ren remained silent, not wanting to spark any interest in why he knew so little about the human settlements, let alone the world’s history. The little he knew was of Alkyri, and such a history was better left dead.

  With his hand stroking a thick brown and gray beard, the dwarf looked hard in thought. He absent-mindedly fiddled with the metalwork of a hammer at his belt.

  Ren gazed down the long hallway and tried to make out where it led to. It felt a bit awkward for him, why such a long hallway and giant entrance for such small people?

  Looking intently around, fine carvings were set throughout the grand hallway. They were not easy to make out, as they were not intended for him or anyone like him. They were dwarven carvings, created by their people to tell a tale to their people. Perhaps any dwarf could have told you the eons of history on those walls, but for Ren, he looked illiterate trying to make out the meaning of every carving on those walls.

  The depictions were as abstract as they were also practical. The carving of hammers and metals, tools and weapons. The way they fit together meant something, but the pieces of that puzzle were far from Ren’s understanding of how they fit together to tell a tale.

  Regardless of the complicated yet simplistic depictions, Ren felt in awe of the work done. How long had it taken dwarves to carve a half mile of hallway into a grand piece of art? How have they created such fine works on walls three times their height, and ceiling several paces wide?

  The low tone of Borrin’s voice snapped Ren from his wonder. “Looks like you’re gazing at the stars there!” A cheerful note entered the depth of his voice.

  “It’s beautiful, yet I feel like I’m missing something.”

  “That’s because you aren’t a dwarf, now are ya?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, why would a human understand that a spear, bronze, and a hammer meant the tale of Yardin The Wise?”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “And that’s what you’re missing lad.”

  Ren looked ahead of himself, on the ceiling above and off to the right hand side, those three symbols were carved. A spear, and the hammering of bronze.

  “What does it mean?” Ren asked.

  “It shows how Yardin bound together two separate clans of dwarves and hammered them into a weapon to strike out at a stone dragon. The bronze, the forging of two clans into one more powerful. The Hammer shows how he shaped them into something new. The spear is them becoming a great weapon against a larger foe.”

  “It makes sense, but how do you know which carving represents each tale?” Ren looked down at the dwarf walking beside him.

  “That's because it is all in sequential order. The further we go down this passage, the further back we go into the history of dwarves. Every single dwarf knows his history in stone and by heart.”

  Ren nodded. He felt out of place seeing the history of a race of people he knew nothing about. Grateful that the dwarves were kind to him thus far, there was still an anxious worry playing across the back of his mind. The fear of being again trapped within a cell, bound to a ritual. To sit and wait for men to decide your fate.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  It was far from a pleasant thought for him, and he hoped the dwarves would never be suspicious of him. However, it would be better to have avoided all of this in the first place.

  “Now then,” Borrin spoke as they neared the end of the long hallway. “Prepare yourself, as a human’s eyes might be too weak…” Rushing forward with a great grin, Borrin pushed open a second set of behemoth doors.

  The great stone doorway slowly opened into a cavern that spanned miles wide and extended vertically for another mile. Within it hung thousands of orbs giving out light. Each was held up by a great bronze chain. The thousands of lights illuminated the vastness of the dwarven civilization.

  Cities were erected on great stone and metal platforms throughout the cavern. There were great highways of traffic through large staircases and tunnels. Great lifts operated throughout the open air as entire buildings, great heaps of ore, and food goods were hauled throughout the city.

  The hollow mountain these dwarves called home smelled sweet from vines that hung alongside the great lights. They bloomed into flowers that were wider than even the heftiest dwarf. The scene was surreal, leaving Ren unable to speak.

  “Now lad, what do you think of real civilization? Much better than your human cities, eh?” The great grin on Borrin’s face only grew as Ren’s eyes struggled to meet his own.

  “It’s… amazing.” Ren looked back out over the cities. He stared at it for long moments while Borrin grinned at him from behind.

  As Ren stood in awe, eight dwarves left their places guarding the entrance.

  “Borrin! You run right past us with a human!” Spoke a white-bearded dwarf.

  “How did you manage to find one?” Came another dwarf as he looked at Ren, gesturing his axe toward him.

  Borrin grasped Ren’s shoulder and turned him towards the other dwarves. Still in shock, Ren blinked dumbly at them. Gesturing to Ren with a large hand, Borrin spoke. “This my brothers, is Ren. We found him wandering the mountain! Rungar was testing a hand cannon down on the lower slopes when a human just stumbled out from the rocks in front of him!” Borrin laughed then continued. “Now, I thought it would be awfully rude of a dwarf to treat a human likes he is some damned elf, the man is in desperate need of some clothing and the shower house too.”

  Ren looked at himself as the dwarfs stood around him. Without his magic, his clothing had stopped mending itself. He was covered in blood and dirt, even though he tried to clean himself somewhat. He looked like some urchin who needed to steal another potato sack to keep himself warm tonight.

  “Clothing wouldn’t be bad. Thank you.” Ren spoke quietly, trying to keep his demeanor.

  Two of the dwarves separated from the other eight and began escorting Ren alongside Borrin. This level of the hollow mountain seemed to be rather barren of dwarves, with only the guards present and a few platforms and buildings.

  Swiftly they led Ren into a building that was quickly revealed to be barracks for these guards. Though their jobs were more likely to be ceremonial than practical, as the chances of some invasion of their land were all but zero. They were well stocked in weapons and armor. The rations of food present made it obvious these dwarves were far from the luxuries of those below.

  One of the two guards who split up from the rest was the white-bearded dwarf. “Now I know my manners, so let me introduce myself. I am Noc, Son of Arms.”

  Ren thought the “Son of Arms” part was supposed to mean something, but did not ask. “I am Ren.” He nodded to the white-bearded dwarf.

  Another spoke, this man with a great orange beard that only had a few silver streaks. “I would be Orin, Son of Ort.”

  Borrin spoke up, “Well I will be off to find a tailor to get this human the right sort of clothing. Not quite sure that Armsman Noc here will have the right shape for you.” The dwarves laughed, while Ren gave a small smile.

  The two guards led Ren to a bathroom where he was able to clean himself up and discard his ruined clothing.

  Ren turned on a faucet releasing a hot stream of water down him. The dirt and blood on his body slowly began to flake off. The red specks across him turned the water a hint red as it fell off his body. His back was the worst. Where the arboreal protomimus had gouged his flesh and torn him apart, there was no good way to remove all the blood short of what he was doing now.

  Being clean, it was relieving. Though, an odd familiarity came pouring through him. A different Ren, a different world. A boy barely become a man, pain, pain. Like the bursting of a dam, something shattered within him. He grabbed at his mouth as sour spit rushed to his mouth. He vomited onto the slanted stone floor of the bathroom. Tears rushed to his eyes as he felt his chest.

  -

  He was in that room. To his left, books lined the wall. A bottle of water sat before him, but he was too anxious to take a sip. A woman sat across from him, but all he wanted was for his head to stop aching. It was the genesis, or perhaps it was the consequence.

  His eyes watered as the pain thundered through his mind. His mind was in two places, he was here in the moment, but he was in the past.

  As his leg shook, his mind only remembered the light that suddenly appeared, how it crashed right into them. How he woke up to find them dead, and how he blamed himself.

  The way his brain convulsed and cramped within his head was just another thing he deserved. For it was all his fault. He should have been more careful, why was he the one who lived?

  -

  Ren felt more of the sickly vomit trailing from his hand. The slight slope of the stone flooring beneath him slowly carried it away as the fog came crashing into his mind. It tried to protect him, to shelter him from the pain of the past. He had rejected the eldritch power within him and embraced the amber light.

  The worming tendrils were weak, far too weak in him for what they desired to do. The foggy blankness, the fuzzing within his head, it wanted to save him from this.

  As it had found him, as it would be again.

  The memories gone to him awoke, the pain fresh again. Old wounds gouged open, only to be salted and torn deeper. The raw agony of remembering what had been lost, only for the memory of loss to be taken. Then again to remember the pain of loss as it was long ago.

  His mind was jumbled and torn. Silently he wept in a place far from his own world.

  https://discord.gg/sNKUgavuCA