Tipping the Scales

39

Cyrus Ember shuddered in the cold stillness of the caves. How an entire race of people could live down here, no matter how inhuman, he couldn't comprehend. He would've hoped to have never experienced it himself, but something monumental brought the King of Ferlandia down into the depths of Caldara.

"This way my King, we are almost there," Anselet himself guided his monarch through the dank streets of the non-human city. The main thoroughfare was bustling with activity; soldiers lugging supplies and couriers carrying messages – all promptly made way for the King and General. Efforts had already been made to light up the darkness in the days following its capture, in a hope to make it somewhat habitable. Hundreds of braziers lined the path down, like beacons guiding those directly to the city's centre. They were surrounded by huge piles of dry firewood.

"You know my cousin, Darius? I could have him light those torches for you," the King said, pulling his royal mantle closer around his shoulder, "once ignited, his flames never die out."

"That would be most helpful, my King," Anselet bowed his head. "We are almost there," he said, noticing the King's discomfort.

The streets gradually grew wider until they reached a huge opening, at the centre of which was a striking grand palace.

"I didn't know the non-humans to be sophisticated enough to construct such monuments," The King said.

"It houses their most prized possession," Anselet explained.

"A possession is something one owns, General. I don't believe the non-humans to be in possession of the Artefact anymore," The King chuckled to himself.

Anselet smiled widely. "Very good, sir."

They followed the trail of torches up to the entrance of the grand hall. "My son fought one of the non-human's Chosen to capture this place," Anselet said proudly as they passed through the entryway, "a great stone golem, at least ten foot in height."

"He was foolish to remain behind alone," the King grunted, "now one of their strongest warriors is dead."

"We've captured him alive." Anselet began ascending the stairs at the end of the first great hall, atop stood a throne made of rock.

The King chuffed at the crude seat. "How much further?" He wanted to spend as little time as possible down here.

"Just through here," Anselet said, guiding them down a corridor leading away from the entry hall. At the end of the tunnel, there was a vibrant golden glow, pulsing like a great beating heart.

The King's eyes reflected the golden light greedily.

"I present to you, the Earthen Spirit Artefact. It is yours, my King," Anselet bowed, allowing the King to enter before him.

Inside the room was a sight that left even the King of Ferlandia breathless.

It was a huge cylindrical chamber bathed in the golden light of non-human mana, so tall that the towering walls faded into darkness before reaching the ceiling. At the bottom of the chamber, circular rows of steps descended into the source of the breath-taking light, a shimmering lake of golden mana.

Beautiful carvings in the finest of detail lined the walls, depicting the history of the non-humans. The King could admire their craftmanship – he was a generous person after all – but he cared little for their stories of the past. Without "their" Artefact, they had little future remaining.