The Forest, The Crown, The Blasphemer

“How is there an entire forest underneath the castle?” Aaeron asked. He stared up into the cavernous opening that revealed itself to the group, slack-jawed in bewilderment.

The group spent countless hours traveling through winding paths and narrow stairways, guided by the young squire. Aaeron and Aled shared the responsibilities of holding the torch and keeping up with the squire while also making sure Tristan didn’t get left behind. The guard stayed at the vanguard, holding a torch of his own and scanning for any imminent threats. He also took responsibility for the chest and strapped it to his expedition pack.

They were indeed surrounded by large, ancient trees. The large antechamber comprising the subterranean forest received light from a hole to the surface far above them.

“It is better to not question, Aaeron of Casne.” The guard responded, “These trees came long before us, and will still be here well after we’re dead.”

Tristan and Aled were the last to enter the antechamber. Tristan’s thigh was still swollen from the wound, but the bleeding had ceased and there were no signs of infection.

“Well I’ll be,” Tristan said as he gazed up to the tree line, “There really is a whole bloody forest down here!”

“We must delve deeper,” The guard said, “Scouting reports confirm there are no signs the traitor Elwys resides here.”

“Can’t we take a break here?” Tristan asked, “Like you said; Lord Elwys isn’t here, so we should be safe for a moment.”

“We cannot rest here, Tristan of Gwent.” The guard responded, “Further down is where we will make camp.”

Tristan sighed. They hadn’t taken much time to rest following Craig’s escape attempt, and he felt he was relying too much on the other men to continue moving. Nevertheless, they continued past the stunted trees and mossy ruins

“Uhm, sir… Guard…?” Aaeron said meekly.

“Yes, Aaeron of Casne.”

“How far down have you gone?”

The guard remained quiet for a moment before signaling the group to halt. Looking over the squire’s shoulder, he traced his finger across the map before stopping at square below the center of the document.

“We are close to the edge of the known pathways of the Royal Catacombs.” The guard said, “From beyond the next room we will be moving at a slower pace to ensure we do not come to harm.”

The guard took a moment to sweep his gaze across Aled, Tristan, and Aaeron.

“I am placing my full trust in the three of you for protection.” He continued, his gaze seeming to settle on the squire, “The clergy have been made aware of this forward camp. We will leave the treasures we acquired earlier.”

“Tristan, I think your bandage might be too tight. Let me redo it for you.” Aled said, looking around for the young girl, “Ehm, S-squire…?”

The young girl shuffled her feet as she rifled through her pack to grab the rolled linens before shoving the bundle into Aled’s hands. Fulfilling the implied request, she swiftly turned around and stomped over to a corner next to Aaeron to obscure her vision.

Tristan chuckled as he pulled his trousers down for Aled to redress the wound. Aled repurposed the old bandage to apply more direct pressure to the wound while letting him loosen the overall tightness of the wrapping.

“This is rightly embarrassing,” Tristan complained as he pulled his trousers back up, “But I appreciate your kindness nonetheless, young Aled.”

“It’s not a problem at all,” Aled commented, “I’ve dealt with far worse with our pigs.”

“Oh, farmer are you?” Tristan asked.

“Yes, sir.” Aled responded.

“Good, good.” Tristan mused, “Go and give the girl the linens back, I reckon she’s tired of thinking of an old man’s rear.”

The guard watched as Aled returned to the squire and motioned for Aaeron and Tristan to join them.

“As we make camp here, I will entrust the entire group with a specific detail of our mission.” The guard said as he revealed a wax-sealed note, “One of the royal artifacts that was found to be missing is the ancestral crown. It hails from the time of Aureliun, as such it was given the title of the Crown of Stars.”

The guard waited for any responses, but Aaeron, Aled, and Tristan all remained silent.

“… Provencials.” The guard sighed, “We cannot rightfully conduct the coronation of Prince Calder without the crown. We have meticulously scoured all known paths through the royal catacombs to here, just beyond the ancient forest.”

“W-why not send more guards like yourself?” Aaeron asked the guard, “If this crown is so important, shouldn’t there be more people going down?”

“Aaeron,” Aled interjected before the guard could respond, “How old are you, if you don’t mind?”

“Uh, it’ll be 15 harvests this year for me…?” Aaeron answered, confused by the question.

“You’re practically a babe!” Tristan exclaimed as he turned to the guard, “Why in the bloody hells was he sent to the debtors prison?”

“Uh, it was my father.” Aaeron replied, “He’s bedridden, I… I volunteered.”

“Enough idle talk, we all have a role to fulfill.” The guard interrupted, “A forward scouting party believes there is only one remaining path further down into the earth. We shall move onward.”

The group moved together through the final hallways of the catacombs. The smoothed bedrock gave way to a natural cave passage. No sconces were present, and only their torches remained as sources of light.

Aled rushed forward to the guard and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sir guard, if there was a scouting party, why haven’t we seen anything left from them?”

“It is not our duties to ask such questions, Aled of Llewyn.” The Guard responded curtly.

The group continued traveling through the cave passage, following the winding path slowly as the squire took breaks to make additions to the map of the catacombs. Shortly after the third break the group noticed a breeze blowing toward them.

“Wind this far down?” Tristan asked openly, “There’s got to be a way outside from here!”

Tristan gained a second wind at this revelation, walking as quickly as his injury would let him through the rest of the cave system.

“Tristan of Gwent!” The guard barked as he followed closely behind, “Any attempts to escape will be considered dereliction of duty!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tristan responded, waving his free hand above his head, “I couldn’t leave your sight even if I wanted to, anyway.”

The squire instinctively ran after the guard, with Aaeron craning his head left and right before following along. Aled was left alone, thankfully holding one of the lit torches, and moved to catch up with the group.

Hehhheheheh…

A shiver ran down Aled’s spine. He stopped to listen to his surroundings, but the only sounds to greet him were the air rushing across the stone and the muffled sounds of his group. Breathing deeply, Aled continued moving through the pathway. Upon turning the final corner, the despondent musings from Tristan became more intelligible and Aled was greeted with the site of a barren, massive underground chasm. Far above them was a thin sliver of white; They had clearly gone well beyond the capital’s walls at this point and are now somewhere in the surrounding fields.

At the edge of the stone floor lay a rope bridge in extreme disrepair. The opposite side was not visible, but Aled the sagging of the bridge suggested it was not too far beyond their line of sight. The stone wall took on a geometric texture, like a series of pillars bonded together into one form. Aled had only seen rock like that once before, when he traveled to the dock town as a young boy with his father.

“How far did we travel?” Aled called out to the group, “I’ve only seen this stone near the sea.”

“Not that far, Aled of Llewyn.” The guard responded, “The royal castle was built from this type of stone. This is likely part of the ancient quarry it came from.”

A dull crackle rang from overhead the group. Dust and small pebbles dropped down onto Aeron and the squire’s heads and shoulders.

“Oh geez,” Aaeron quipped, “You don’t think there’s a chance something will actually fall on us, do you?”

Tristan began to comment, “These sorts of places can be dangerous-“

…Youuuu…

The hair on Tristan’s neck stood on end as he whipped his head to the rope bridge. An explosive crack called down from above. Tristan knew this was the telltale sound of an impending rockfall. He grabbed at the collars of both Aaeron and the girl, yanking them backward as he stumbled forward. Aaeron stomped wildly before faceplanting in a futile attempt to maintain balance. The squire, instead, fell straight to the ground, grunting as she hit the unworked stone floor. Aled watched from the entrance to the chasm as a massive pile of boulders tumbled down from the shadows above.

Down onto Tristan.

A massive cloud of dust obscured everyone’s vision, but Aled could see the flame from Aaeron’s torch and hear him and the squire coughing profusely. Shoving his face below his shirt kept much of the dust from entering his lungs, but his eyes were afforded no comfort. After the dust settled, Aled found himself witness to a gruesome site. Only Tristan’s legs were visible under the pile of jagged rocks and blood pooled on the ground, soaking into the dirt.

The girl, spared from immediate danger, summoned forth a guttural scream as the blood slowly reached her feet. Aaeron’s skin turned ghostly white before he staggered toward the chasm and loudly emptied his stomach. The guard stood by separated from the group, torch still in hand.

“Tristan of Gwent,” The guard said stoically, “Cause of death, fulfillment of duty.”

The girl was in hysterics staring at what little remained of Tristan. Aled rushed to her side and pulled her close to his chest to face her away from the remains.

“Squi-,” The guard cut himself off with a heavy sigh. He stuck his torch into the rubble to free his hands and pulled out the contract along with a cloth-wrapped piece of charcoal. Wetting the pointed tip, he wrote a single word next to Tristan’s name.

Absolution

Returning the contract and charcoal to the squire’s sack, the guard sat himself separately from the rest of the group, trying to keep an eye on everyone remaining. Aaeron, still in shock, began to shuffle toward the derelict bridge to maintain balance.

“H-hey, everyone…” He stammered out, hunching his shoulders slightly from extended retching, “Does the air feel… wrong to you?”

…Heh heh heh heeehhhhhhh…

A disjointed voice echoed from beyond the wooden crossing. Bright points of light danced within the void.

…Finally taken notice, have ye?