CASPIAN
Being alone in this place is creepy as fuck.
The cave-in left me with a sore wrist and a nasty gash on my thigh, but luckily nothing that has hindered me from wandering through the maze of passageways.
I’m deep underground now and haven’t come across any signs of the others.
My pack’s all I’ve got, but I think I can make do for at least another day before I have to start making my way back to the surface.
I run into several more cave-ins that require me to backtrack, but towards the end of the day the narrow hallways open up into several large caverns connected together. On second look, they’re not caverns but levels of the fortress that have sunk down over the millenia.
I hop down to the ground level, climbing over debris and giant blocks of ice to reach the center, where a massive contraption sits on a raised dais.
When I reach it, I see it’s in a few pieces, encased in ice and knocked apart by time and the sinking landscape.
I move around it, fascinated by what it could possibly be.
The interconnected network of gears and circular spheres appear to have once rotated together, and there are marks carved into the metal.
Maybe a measuring system? But for what?
I pull some pieces from the ground and see inscriptions of planetary systems. Another one has stars and constellations. There’s yet another of the moon and all her phases. Maybe this was their calendar—
I’m so enthralled by the piece of ancient technology I don’t hear the shuffling until it’s too late.
I turn to see a massive white bear appear from the shadows. We see each other at the same time and a low growl escapes him .
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I grumble, moving slowly away from the dias.
This beast looks exactly like the De’Vero House crest, which makes me want to laugh at the absurdity of running into one.
The bear’s teeth are the size of my forearm as it snarls and takes a few steps towards me, black eyes glittering in the meager light.
I continue to retreat but the ground gives way beneath my feet, and I stumble.
The bear roars, a sound that vibrates the air and causes a chill to race down my spine.
A large tremor runs through the ice. I frantically toss aside my pack and draw my cutlass just in time to dive away from the animal as it charges.
My shoulder protests the impact as I roll and jump up, whirling to face the bear who, for something so big, is disturbingly agile.
I jump out of the way again, sliding my blade across its side as I do.
But the bear’s fur is thick, and I don’t think it makes an impact.
He comes for me again and a swipe of his paw catches me on my hip, sending me sliding across the ground where I collide with an ice wall, shattering it loudly.
I barely have time to make it to my feet, slipping on ice and gasping for air, before he’s on me again.
I grab a dagger and slam it into his neck, somehow dodging the creature’s teeth.
I don’t have time to avoid the giant paw though, and I’m thrown across the room.
I feel like something is sitting on my chest. I can’t take a full breath.
I see him lumbering towards me and roll out of the way.
Staggering to my feet, I grip the edge of the contraption to steady myself.
It shakes under my hand and I look up, seeing the rings and warped metal waver.
I shove against it hard, watching the bear charge.
The ancient machine sways but doesn’t budge.
I slam my shoulder against it—I have only yards before he’s on me.
I push harder, my efforts edging on frantic.
There’s a screech of metal on metal and it falls.
The massive pile hits the bear who stumbles and goes down.
But now the ground is quaking and I fall to a knee, watching the rocks beneath me split.
The ground falls out from under us, sending me, and the bear rolling down a mountain of ice and stone.
We collide at the bottom and I get a faceful of fur.
The smell of rot and musk assault my senses.
I try to move but my ankle is pinned under a rock.
The bear looms over me, mouth open, ready to take my head off.
I raise my sword and plunge it straight down his throat.
Blood pours over my forearm that’s shoved between wicked looking canines, and the giant bear collapses half on top of me.
I extract my arm and lay there awkwardly, staring up at the hole we’d just fallen through, trying to catch my breath—wheezing through ribs I’m sure are broken.
I’m convinced this is some sick metaphor for my life—going up against this beast that represents my house.
I attempt to shove him off, but my ribs protest and I slump back again in frustration—at least I’m finally warm—
“Caspian!”
At first I think I’m dreaming; I’m so exhausted—but I hear my name again and crane my neck, seeing the men running towards me, Blackwell leading the charge. He reaches me first and tries to shove the bear off.
“Jesus Christ,” Van exclaims. “What the fuck is that thing?”
It takes the three of them—Van, Harrison and Blackwell—to move the carcass off enough to free me.
“Karma of some sort probably—” I rasp as I dig my ankle out of the debris and stumble down to even footing where it promptly gives out. Arms grab me and Blackwell is there, throwing my arm over his shoulder.
“Impeccable timing, Captain.”
He sets me down at the mouth of the tunnel where the other men have made camp. Crouching down he looks me over.
“I’m fine—”
“That does not look fine.”
I follow his gaze to see claw marks raking me from hip to knee with another set across my chest. I lean my head back, closing my eyes.
“Fuck—I can’t even feel it—”
“Probably a good thing,” Blackwell drags his pack over and rummages through it. “Chew on this.”
He gives me something to ease the pain and starts to cut away my pants. He presses a warm cloth against the wounds and I hiss.
“Okay, I can definitely feel it now,” I grumble through gritted teeth.
The cuts aren’t dangerously deep, but they sting like a motherfucker and require nearly my entire thigh to be wrapped. Blackwell tears my shirt and runs the damp cloth across the cuts on my chest.
“Think I’ll have some cool scars?” I crane my neck to try and see them in their entirety and notice Blackwell’s hand has a slight tremor to it. I look up at his face in time to see his jaw clench at my words and his eyes darken in anger. I grab his wrist and he looks up at me.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly.
“I saw you just lying there with that bear on you—” He mutters.
For a brief moment, his emotions show on every inch of his face and my chest aches. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and drag him to me, resting my head against his and closing my eyes. It’s over too quickly before he pulls back and glares at me.
“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”
I smirk at him. “I’ll try my best.”
After getting bandaged up and having a quick few hours of rest, we move off again.
We’re all extremely conscious of the fact we don’t have many supplies left, especially with my pack now lost above us somewhere.
If we don’t find the vault today, we’ll have to go back to the ship, resupply and try again.
We’re not walking long when the passageway opens up into a vast chamber with towering vaulted ceilings.
Bookshelves run up the walls to a staggering height.
Bookcases line the room in a circular pattern, leaving the middle open with comfortable seating and long communal tables.
Everything is perfectly encased in ice as clear as glass.
Half the ceiling has caved in across the room, but most of it remains untouched by time or decay.
We break off to wander among the stacks. I run my hand along the spine of a book. The history here is unimaginable. What secrets of the world live here? This city was said to exist thousands and thousands of years ago, so whatever is written here is most likely something we know nothing about.
A thrill rushes through me at the amount of knowledge sitting here in this room.
Blackwell is slowly trailing behind me through the stacks, looking like he’s paying more attention to me than these valuable artifacts.
I hide a smile only for it to drop the moment I round a corner of bookcases and see the body.
The man is hunched over a table and I walk around to see what he’s doing.
A quill is in his hand, the frozen action is eerie in how alive it looks.
I lean over for a closer look at what he’s writing.
It’s in one of the old languages. The last line is hastily scratched into the parchment, viciously and with urgency.
His script deteriorates to scribbles at the end, barely legible.
It’s coming—it’s here—woe unto us the sorry fools who did not heed the warning of the stars….
I run my hand over the ice covering the previous page and begin to read aloud:
It matters not if it is daylight or darkness, it is an ever-present omen in our skies.
The scale of it devastates the mind, while the speed at which it must be traveling I am equally unable to truly comprehend.
This is to be our destruction. Whether it comes in an explosion of flames, or flurry of ice, I know not.
What is clear, is we should have heeded the warnings.
I tried to warn them. We tried to make them understand.
But no one listens to ill omens when the abundance of our civilization is filling the vaults.
Now they see. Now they look up at the sky and tears of wrath, fear and grief trail down their faces. They trail down mine as well.
Will history remember us? Or will we be utterly destroyed beyond immortalization. I’d like to think something of us will linger—
I look up and realize everyone has gathered around us.
“Some sort of meteor strike?” I say thoughtfully.
“Wouldn’t that eliminate everything?” Harrison asks.
“Not if it explodes in the atmosphere over all this ice,” Van says. “It would have caused a massive thermal drop, blocked the sun—if this was the epicenter, everyone would have been flash frozen.”
“At least they didn’t suffer,” one of the men states.
“I don’t know,” I muse, looking back at the man before me. “Seeing that thing in the sky every day knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it? Before the bear interrupted me I found some sort of invention that looks like it was used to read the stars. Maybe that’s how they found out about it.”
“All I heard is an abundant vault,” Harrison states. “Let’s let the dead lie.”
They all walk off but I stay, studying the man a moment longer.
The one who tried his hardest to warn everyone he loved of their impending doom only for it all to fall on deaf ears.
The look of pain on his face, frozen for all of time disturbs me.
What must that agony feel like? To know the end was coming and be unable to do anything about it.
Now I know why so many of these people have been looking up—they’d been ominously watching death come for them, not able to do anything but pray.