Mountain

When we woke, we immediately packed our belongings and scoped the outside of the ruined shop we had camped in. All of us sluggishly moved along, trying to fight our urges to fall back asleep. Being in the dark for so long, unable to see the sky light for some of our travels, has made it difficult to tell between day and night. Fesha and I have only been sleeping when we began to feel tired. We peeked out from behind the torn shelves through heavy eyes, waiting to make sure those robed people we had seen were not patrolling the halls.

As we waited, we began to hear a faint rhythmic echoing scattering through the corridor. Out of the right corner of the shop's window frame, we saw a group of the robed people patrolling the area from the far side of where we stood. Their faces were shrouded in darkness, unable to be seen from the shade of their hoods. As they walked, their long black robes dragged on the stone floor, giving them the appearance as if they were sliding. Their steps were tight yet in sync like they were planned out. As they moved by, one of them held their hand just above the flame of the torches, checking each one. We watched them slowly pass, creeping steadily by each torch, until finally leaving our sight and the sounds of their footsteps faded.

We waited a little while longer and peeked out of the shop ever so often just to make sure there was no one else. At last, we had decided to step out and head backwards toward the balcony where we had first seen everything. We made our way there slowly, taking the softest steps possible. On the way, we found a small opening against the wall with stairs leading downward, presumably to the chamber we had seen before. Our walk barely made a sound and eventually we had found ourselves back at the balcony. We looked through the columns of the railing, spotting Serrum in the same place we had found her. Her state was still the same, however, none of the robed people were there, at least none that we could see. Not a sound could be heard from down there, so we decided that it was now or never.

We made our way back toward the small staircase, Fesha watching the bottom of the stairs and me scanning the halls. Dente stood there gripping his axe, seemingly wanting to help with something, but his now poor eyesight getting in the way. Fesha signaled that the coast is clear and we tiptoed out way down the stairs. As we crossed the arched entrance at the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves under a long stretching roof held up by arches and evenly spaced pillars. Torches on twisted black stands lined the walls, coating the room and a flickering orange. The stairs led us some distance behind where Serrum was seated. We approached the corpse pile slowly from behind the pillars. As we closed in on it, the subtle sound of conversing gained clarity. Each of us hid behind a pillar, its futility now obvious from how little coverage they actually provided us. Still, we had no choice and waited. Then two robed men came into view from behind a pillar that was further down, there hoods finally out of the way. In the dim orange hue, their skin was a dark gray, wrinkly, and dry looking. Both of them had their eyes completely carved out, leaving nothing but the bottom halves of their faces intact.

As they came in closer, the words of their conversation became more clear.

"... How close is the vassal?" One of them said in a grungy voice.

"The process is fickle I tell thee, but it may be finished soon enough." The other responded in a younger sounding voice.

"That damned Tenebris thinking he's holier than thou. He was nearly perfect but just had to cause trouble. We could've left unto the new world ages ago but he had to stay down there. For what purpose?" The grungy voice said somewhat angered.

"No matter, this new vassal shall suffice. Our lord of the depths has pursued this one well it seemeth." The younger voice stated.

There was a short pause in their dialogue, then the grungy voice spoke. "Ah, by the way, have the torches been checked?"

"They have. Surely someone has foundeth them inviting. I only pray for more of those who wisheth to commune." The younger voice answered.

Their steps echoed through the chamber, growing louder as they got near. Fesha who was so obviously hidden had not been spotted, or perhaps, she could not have been spotted. The two men walked past her, then past me, the depth of the scars carved where their eyes should be engraved into my mind. Soon, they past Dente, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Then, one of the men turned.

"Didst thou hearest that?" The young voice said.

In that very instant, Dente had raise his axe above the man's head, his facial expression obstructed by the pillar he hid behind. The thud of his axe echoed through the chamber as it smashed into the young man's temple. He fell instantly and Dente prepared a second swing for the next man. Within only a couple seconds, both men were now dead on the ground, blood pooling beneath their fallen bodies. Dente's face, now covered in blood, showed an expression of no emotion, as if he had planned to kill them from the start. It was a side of him that seemed unfamiliar, yet fit him perfectly now given the state we found him in.

We tiptoed onward until we met with the mountains of corpses, its height now sinking in. As we walked around it, I witnesses the black tendrils that I had once seen from above now at my level. They slithered slowly throughout the bodies, methodically moving in between the piles. We made it to the front of the pile where Serrum was, staring at her from far below. She sat atop the peak silently in such a pitiful state. The tendrils continuously threaded themselves as they moved from her shoulder. Fesha and I prepared to climb until a loud thud followed by a bellowing groan interrupted our focus. I turned to see Dente now collapsed on his knees, struggling to get back up.