From Iron and Ruin

Ember.

 Chapter 27: Ember.

The entrance to Fortitude was other-worldly.

We had watched the entrance to Fortitude for a day before moving in, but that didn't make the sight of the mine's gateway any less mesmerizing. Two gigantic statues, now covered with moss and beaten by the weather, stood on either side of a great, un-natural white gateway. The statues of two Elven foot soldiers stood nearly three hundred feet into the air and both clasped a long spear which was stamped into the ground.

The group had grown quiet and wary. The animals were disturbed by the mine and Arrow spooked too often, despite my best attempts to calm her. We had left the horses hidden by shrubbery and magic as we scouted the entrance of the mine.

"Beautiful!" Gwen's voice was choked as she marched towards the booted feet of the giant Elves. "This is the work of Eloilsta."

The name was familiar. "Is she Elven?"

Gwen stroked the stone in a loving manner. "She was the Elf that built to the stars."

"Ah," I stood beside her, staring up. "Like Valdur."

"Valdur?" Gwen leaned closer to the stone, peering closely.

"The Scholar of stars."

Gwen grunted, unimpressed. "Doesn't sound as impressive, Shiny."

"And how do you recognise her work?" Lord Ainthoch wandered closer, curious. "It is good work."

Gwen, not one to be intimidated by status, rounded on him with bluster. "Good. Good! This is the Elf who broke into the male-led, strictly dwarven sculpting orders and made them recognise her as someone to respect and fear. Good is an insult."

"I see. And then how would you compare her work to that of the dwarf legend Malachite..." Lord Ainthoch began. Sensing a drawn out conversation on stone, I wandered away to see how our entrance into Fortitude would go.

While the statues on either side of the gates were beautiful, the gate itself was a monument to wrongness. I sensed no magic ebbing from the great gates, but the whiteness of the metal was eerie. It was too bright. Too wrong.

Greydon stood beside me, staring up at it. "A set of teeth that leads down into the belly of the beast. How can the gates remain so untouched by the weather?"

"Even nature won't touch this place," Mahon's voice was caustic. Dark. Twisted with hate. He glowered at the mine darkly, his lip curling. Greydon cut a glance towards the Captain and I waited for his expected humour, but it did not come.

Instead, we split to begin our entrance into Fortitude. Though there was no magic holding the gates shut and Kohen could sense no souls behind the gates, there was no visible pulley system. So instead, magic would have to fix the problem.

My Mentors would have been ashamed, but I did not care. I was keenly aware of the deep wagon grooves in the dirt- not fresh, but recent.

We had brought three Magin soldiers from the Legion and together, we funnelled our cast into one funnel to heave open the gates. It must have looked ridiculous and I felt uncomfortable with the eyes watching us as we followed through with the motions of the cast; moving back and forth like the rolling tide, gathering strength in the cast with each movement.

It was slow work, even with the magic of the Abyss aiding us, the gates opened painfully slow. With it's opening, brought trembling earth and distantly, the horses startled.