Chapter 16 The Heart
The Heart
As Kraghtol had predicted, it wasn’t far anymore.
When not interpreting the growth of the Mandrakes, he took turns with the others trying to speak to Roderic, with little success.
The orderkeeper was conscious enough to understand him, and took food and water when offered, but refused to speak a single word.
Finally, Dagna had enough. She stopped so suddenly Valir almost ran into her and put her hands on her hips.
“Now, listen here, longleg. I get it. Losing your arm sucks. But you know what would suck even more? Being dead. You realize that’s what you would be if Kragh hadn’t scraped you off the ground?
After you announced you would kill him? He even warned you and told you to run, which you lot didn’t.
Now, I don’t know what happened back in Winterstone, but that doesn’t sound like something a murderer would do. That’s just trollshit.”
Roderic opened his mouth to respond, but closed it shut so violently the clacking of his teeth was clearly audible.
He just glared, and Kraghtol could understand why.
While Dagna was not wrong with what she had just said, she conveniently left out the part where he had prepared a trap and lured the demon in.
The very demon that killed the rest of the orderkeepers in a few heartbeats.
His not intending this massacre to happen made little difference to the orderkeeper, and to himself.
Dagna awaited an answer for a few more seconds before throwing up her arms in frustration and stomping ahead.
The situation reminded Kraghtol more and more of his dream, the dream he had had almost every night in Winterstone.
Thinking back to this time seemed like an entirely different world now, an easier one, despite the troubles he had back then.
Sure, he wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t running through the mud, but the feeling of purpose was hauntingly similar.
He knew they were getting closer to their destination, even though he could not tell exactly what it was.
His heartbeat quickened at the thought, and he didn’t know if it was from fear or anticipation.
The area had long since stopped making any sense whatsoever.
Left and right changed direction on a whim, and without the guidance of the Mandrakes, they would be lost in a matter of minutes.
Nobody else could read them. He had tried to explain how he saw those patterns in the chaos to Valir and Dagna, but couldn’t find the words.
It was hard to tell exactly when they found the center, as the cycle of day and night had made way to a perpetual gloomy twilight, filtered through countless leaves above them, but suddenly, the dense foliage made way to a vast clearing.
The fog was thinner here, and on the muddy ground, covered by millions of Mandrakes, stood a building.
At first, Kraghtol wasn’t even sure about that fact.
He had never seen a building this massive or this ancient.
It was made of stone, at least in theory.
Vines, moss and even occasional Mandrake plants completely covered the structure, along with a patina of dirt that had to be hundreds of years old.
It was also wrong. Not only did whoever built this have no love whatsoever for right angles and parallel lines, but the very shape of the massive monument outright defied the laws of this world.
Not unlike the surrounding swamp, the architecture seemed to shift and change when he looked away for just a moment, and gave him a headache when he stared at it for too long.
Without a doubt, they had reached their destination.
“So, that’s the fabled oracle?” Dagna asked, having recovered from the sight the quickest. “Well, at least it has an obvious entry.”
Right in front of them, only a hundred meters of Mandrake-covered soil away, was a huge gate-like arch looming bigger than the Frostgate in Winterstone.
“I… I don’t like this. It looks like… a trap?” Valir’s voice was shaky and decidedly less confident than usual. Without actively thinking about it, Kraghtol placed a hand on the noble’s shoulder.
The half-orc himself was torn. The whole thing reminded him of an irregular fist, or perhaps a set of brambles broken through the skin of the earth on their own. But then again, he couldn’t deny some similarities to a jagged crystal formation, beautiful in its wildness.
“It’s no trap. Come on, let’s take a closer look!”
Shadows moved through the fog as he carefully approached the gate, but he paid them no attention.
His mind was feverishly focused on what he knew would wait within: the answer to all his questions.
His friends followed, not without hesitation, but he only realized that Roderic had not moved when Dagna called out to him.
“Hey, longleg, what’s the matter?”
“You… you’re crazy!” he croaked, uttering his first words since the combat. “I don’t know what fey-cursed witchery this is, but — no! No way! Fuck you!”
He turned around and ran back to where they had come from, quickly disappearing behind the tree line.
“Idiot!” Dagna mumbled and turned to follow, but Valir shook his head.
“Let him. He’s not our prisoner. I doubt he’ll survive on his own and without supplies, but it’s his choice. Kragh saved his life once already; it’s not our fault if he opts to throw it away right after.”
Kraghtol had trouble following the conversation.
More important thoughts occupied his mind, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else but the massive building in front of him.
It didn’t feel right to abandon Roderic like that, but then again, Valir was correct: they were neither wardens nor babysitters for the orderkeeper.
“Let’s move on,” he said, almost annoyed that his friends took so long.
There was definitely movement in the fog, perhaps animals, perhaps the demon.
It didn’t matter, as long as they stayed where they were, away from their group.
Dagna and Valir had spotted them, too, and exchanged fearful glances, but at least hurried to catch up with Kraghtol.
“Have you —” Valir began, but Kraghtol answered with a dismissive gesture. “Yes, I know. If they had wanted to attack, they would have done so already. Come on, it’s not far now.”
He noticed the confused look on the noble’s face but ignored it.
This was important. Finally, they arrived at the massive stone door.
The building was even more impressive from nearby.
It was indeed made of stone, but not from individual bricks or slabs.
The entire wall rising in front of them had no gaps or crevices that suggested it had actually been built, nor any sign of having been worked with hammer and chisel.
Instead, the uneven stone surface appeared to have just happened to grow into this form from the ground.
There was just one thing that stood out, big as a millstone but tiny compared to the entirety of the building.
At eye level, but precisely centered in the door horizontally, was a big white crystal embedded into the stone.
It formed a flawless circle but had perfectly symmetrical right-angled strands extending into the surrounding stone, like veins. He had seen this before.
“Is that…” asked Dagna, and Kraghtol nodded. “A seal.”
“It doesn’t look like the one in Bronzebreak,” she said, reaching out a hand without touching it. “It looks like it’s made of ice, but it’s not cold…”
“In any case, it’s beautiful,” Valir said. “And the only thing on this whole thing not giving me a headache.”
Now that he mentioned it, Kraghtol could absolutely see that. Before, it had seemed like a foreign and misplaced object in the rugged beauty of the building, but the opposite was also true. A soothing jewel embedded in stone, shining even more from the contrast.
He reached out, hesitated and then finally touched it.
He had half expected something to happen, but nothing changed.
The surface was smooth to the touch and so perfect it must have taken a master jeweler a lifetime to remove any bumps and irregularities.
His dirty green hand looked alien against the pure white structure.
He closed his eyes, trying to drown out all distractions.
What had the nameless old man said again?
“I think I can open it.”
When he opened his eyes again, both Dagna and Valir stared at him.
“What? How?” Dagna asked, preempting Valir only by seconds. “I thought you didn’t know how!”
“Never mind the ‘how’. Why would you do something like that?! The way I see it, this whole… castle-thing is just pure evil. And this seal is keeping it under control, or perhaps shut. You can’t possibly think it’s a good idea to remove it, even if you could!”
The problem was that Valir possibly had a point. Kraghtol couldn’t deny a part of him thinking the same thing: some things should better be left undisturbed. On the other hand…
“You might be right,” he began, not sure yet where the sentence would take him.
“Perhaps we should turn around and leave this thing behind. But what then? Where do I go? Where do we go? I mean, look at us. What do we have left? The world is like a perfect clockwork. On the outside. Everything is set in its way from the moment you are born. Tradition, nobility,… tusks. You can only do what is expected of you, and if you don’t…
you are cast aside, like a bad potion, not fit for the purpose you were brewed for. ”
He looked between the two of them and saw it again, reflected in their eyes, before he felt it. The unseen fire within him, gaining strength with every word.