After hours of trudging across the desolate landscape, Derek finally arrived at the mountain base. A wide, gaping tunnel yawned before him, its depths seeming to swallow all light. The sheer size of it was enough to make Derek shiver. He felt a sense of foreboding, the same primal fear one might experience walking into the gaping maw of a raging monster.
Derek gulped, his throat suddenly dry. "That's one big cave… caves, actually."
Several smaller caves dotted the length of the mountain, too many to count. Derek was sure they were all interconnected, forming a complex and dangerous labyrinth within the mountain's heart.
"Yeah… no way I'm going near those."
Not to mention it'd be pitch black inside, with unknown dangers lurking around every corner.
"Quarren, is it too late to go back to those frozen lands you mentioned?"
"Well, not unless you're fine with living the rest of your days insane… that's if the cold doesn't kill you first." Quarren said "In other words, it's not too late to turn back."
"Wow, thanks for the encouragement," Derek replied sarcastically, while inwardly weighing his options. Each option was as terrifying as the last
"Fine… which one of these tunnels are we entering?"
"Tunnels? There's only one tunnel, doofus. The holes you see are the labyrinth left behind by the insect colony that once dominated this place before...whatever happened to them" Quarren explained with no feeling.
"Wait… So you mean to say I'll be going into that abyss?" Derek asked incredulously, gesturing towards the seemingly endless darkness.
Quarren scoffed, "Where else, weakling? And be quick, it's almost nightfall."
Derek dragged his feet hesitantly, approaching the tunnel.
"Wait, what happens at nightfall anyway?"
"Hehe… that's when the fog from the forest descends in all its oblivious glory," Quarren remarked, a hint of malice in his tone. "We really are stuck between a rock and a hard place."
Derek smiled wryly. "I'd personally prefer the hard place, but the question is, which is the rock, and which is the hard place?"
"We'd find out soon enough," Quarren replied perfunctorily.
*
There was no sun to indicate dawn, but the light beyond the mountains seemed to be fading, and an eerie fog was descending on the world. What little light remained was dispersed through the thickening fog, creating a blinding, colloidal mess. Derek observed the scene through the relatively narrow mouth of the tunnel he was in. The visage was… beautiful, to say the least, yet disturbing and utterly wrong, it made the soul ache.
With a sigh, Derek turned back and continued walking into the tunnel. He hadn't gotten too far in, and thankfully, there hadn't been any sign of danger so far. The cave was a deep black, as there was no source of light.
"What's this place anyway, this subterranean world and all?" Derek asked Quarren, trying to distract himself from the growing unease.
Quarren sighed tiredly. "I think I've told you. I think it's like some cemetery where the Tree dumps all the bodies of the warriors it had granted oblivion. You know what? Don't ask me anything about Oblivion anymore, all the stories just don't add up."
Quarren paused for a moment and continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Yeah, that reminds me, while most of those warriors vanish into Oblivion literally, some actually remain. While they've lost their sense of self… their blemishes, what's left of their soul actually thrives. You know, a warrior's instinct is terrifying. If you meet any of them, run."
"Why?" Derek inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"The instinct of a warrior is to always fight, mindless or not."
"I see," Derek replied grimly, spreading out his consciousness, searching for any signs of danger. But everywhere was still.
"Oh, wait, threats be damned. Those warriors… by mindless, did you mean they can't feel anything?"
"Nothing," Quarren replied curtly.
"No emotions at all?" Derek asked.
"Indeed," Quarren stated.
"It's official; I'm done," Derek said, his mood plummeting. He'd just lost his greatest edge against any enemy, the ability to corrupt their emotions.
What was the use of it when there were no emotions at all?
"What's worse, I suck at physical combat. I don't even know how to brandish a dagger properly. And I'll be facing seasoned warriors? Without their mind to play with? This is not going to end well."
"Curses!" Derek muttered under his breath, his frustration evident.
He looked up and turned to the mace.
"Hey Quarren, how well can you teach people how to wield maces, like, you know, yourself?" Derek asked, his expression troubled, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Quarren let out a dry, mirthless chuckle, and then stopped abruptly, sensing the direction of the question.
"Hold up! I can see where this is going. Don't even think about it. It besmirches my integrity if I allow you to wield me like some random, foul, godforsaken scrap metal. Even if all the heavens and the deepest reaches of hell's defilement erupted into this reality, I'd never stoop so low as to allow a mere Convert to wield me. It's an abomination to even think of such a thing!"
Derek groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.
"This guy…"
"Come on, it's not going to be that bad," he wheedled, trying a different approach.
"Never!" Quarren declared, his voice laced with a finality that brooked no argument.
Few moments later…
Quarren cleared his throat—or rather, whatever passed for a throat in his incorporeal form.
"You see, wielding a mace is not merely the act of lifting iron and bringing it down. It is an ancient rite, a binding of muscle to metal, spirit to swing. A weapon forged not for finesse, but for judgment. If you would take up the mace, know this, Derek…"
Quarren drew a breath and continued on "The first principle is that The Weight is Your Ally, Not Your Enemy. A mace is heavy for a reason. It breaks through arrogance, armor, bone, and shield alike.
Do not fight its weight, guide it. Learn to use momentum like a river uses gravity: not with haste or reluctance, but with inevitability."
Quarren paused for a moment and continued "Now try this. Raise the mace up as far as your hand can go and try to bring it down with your full strength, then stop it just a little bit short of the ground. Focus on the feel and let it be a part of yourself"
Derek nodded. He stood, planted his feet firmly, and did as he was told. He raised the mace above his head, feeling its weight, and then brought it down with all his strength, putting his full weight behind the swing. Just when he was about to halt the swing, to stop the mace inches from the ground, the mace flew out of his grip, skidding across the floor a few feet away from him.
Quarren groaned in exasperation, a long, drawn out sound of utter despair.
"Why did I let him talk me into this? Damn it."