Six
The Arbiter's Grounds, the Deep Wilds
Micah had walked tirelessly through the slimy undergrowth. Hours passed but Micah was familiar enough with the wilds to know he had never ventured this far south before.
The ground was getting drier, the trees lusher, vine-tangled and the fetid stench was gone.
Finally, he shoved past a tangle into a huge open expanse.
He was standing in an immense stone courtyard, choked in moss and vines. He was surprised to find such a place in the swampy wilds but somehow, he felt as if he had been there many times before.
There were many stony terraces and peculiar statues rendered formless from centuries of erosion. Perfectly aligned stone sarcophagi dominated the courtyard as if an army was interred below, but the inscriptions on the lids were corroded and unreadable.
The Arbiter's Grounds were massive, multi-tiered and crafted from solid granite built on top of a more unusual ancient metal he had never seen before. Bare iron flagpoles dotted the expanse, the flags long lost to time.
One mausoleum carved into a large terrace caught his attention. The knowledge the demon had implanted in his mind told him that this was his destination.
He walked past the rows of tombs, his footsteps pattering over a vast empty expanse until he reached the door to the vault.
The moon was fading overhead as he read the carvings on the door. He felt a strong magical lock on the door, there was no normal means of entering this sepulcher. But there was a handprint- shaped hollow lined with sharp spikes and a keyhole above it.
Micah felt in his pocket for a key, he drew an old bronze key. He had never seen it before, but from the lingering scent of sulfur on it he knew who had given him it. He crammed it in the lock. He bit his lip as he prepared to place his palm on the prickled hand hollow. The spikes drew blood, curiously, his hand fitted perfectly in the slot.
He yanked his hand out, using his magic to cauterize his wounds while he watched the vault door spring to life. He heard the sound of ancient gears turning and stone moving as the door edged open. Micah felt the magical barrier fall and his path was made clear.
The air was still and stale as Micah entered the tomb. Several dusty torches lined the stairwell, he lit one with a simple click of his fingers and watched the room illuminate, chasing the shadows away.
The was a large carving above a narrow corridor of descending steps, it was in Ancient Turbulic- a language Micah had never seen before.
When he looked closer, he felt his mind translate the inscription as it was prompted by demonic magic. 'The Arbiter' it read. He continued down the steps into the looming darkness.
After a few minutes of descent, he came to a junction. The walls were covered in Ancient Turbulic text. From what he could see it was an ancient story.
Parts were chipped from aging but the majority of the symbols were still readable:
'בשנה [...] ארץ ארבעת המלכים, טורבולוס. שבעה תאורגים. ביקשו להביא את האלוהות לאדמות' In the year [...] the land of Four Kings,Turbulus. Seven Theurgists sought to bring The Divine to the lands' (AncientTurbulic)
The story trailed off but Micah knew the next part would be further into the tomb so he continued down the stairs until the next junction.
עיר הקריסטל של גן עדן הם קראו לה- בדיוק כפי שחזו השטיחים הקדושים. השבעה מצאו את ממלכת היוצר. הם עברו על פני [...] מקדש הבורא, מושב הבורא.'' 'The Crystal City of Heaven they called it- Just as the Sacred Tapestries foretold. The Seven found the realm of The Maker. They had traversed past [...] Temple of the Creator, the Maker's seat.'
Micah had heard a similar story from his childhood. The Tabernacle priests in Stillpine Glade often told of this in their sermons, mindlessly quoting passages that he rarely paid any attention to.
He rushed to the next junction of the winding passage.
'גן העדן השחיר כזפת; ההיבריס שלהם זיהם את הממלכה. דייבה שוחררה [...] '[..]גם שתיין הנשמות, נולד באותו היום.''The paradise turned black as tar; their hubris polluted the realm. Daeva was unleashed [...]''[..]Souldrinker too, was born that day.'
Incredible. Micah's fingers followed the carvings and he mouthed the words. "A blade wielded by Daeva," he whispered. He had uncovered the vault of a truly legendary weapon.
Finally, his descent brought him to the reliquary chamber. In the center of the room sat a stone coffin. Thick black Hellfire, akin to boiling tar filled the room save a narrow stone bridge. As Micah peered closer at the tar, he saw small hands reaching up to him and agonized faces writhing.
Hellfire.
He wouldn't stop now; he crossed the breach and stood over the final sarcophagus.
'אני חותם את זה מכל מי שמעז לחפש את כוחו, רק הנבחר ראוי''I seal this from all who dare seek its power,only the chosen is worthy.' it read.
It had the same spike-lined handprint hollow as the vault door so Micah placed his cauterized hand gingerly on it.
He watched the blood trickle down narrow channels on the lid and the stone parted forth. Clutched in the bony grip atop the chest of a resting skeleton- The 24th Arbiter, laid Souldrinker, the legendary blade.
The bones rattled, the blade prying itself free.
The blade was drawn to his hand and nestled in it as if tailored for him. The evil blade had waited centuries to be held by its new master. Those deemed unworthy had been burned to ash if they dared lay their hands upon it.
Micah felt cold depths of power, but a great emptiness to it. The sword flickered with a red aura and a line of ancient Turbulic runes ran down its blade.
No more eating disgusting disembodied hearts and sewing effigies. This is how I will confront Lydia.
Micah strolled out of the labyrinth and into the emerging daylight, his mission clear in his mind.
Freedom... a strange whisper hissed in Micah's ear.