A Quest For Sapphire

Clouds Of Dark Sorrow

The raspy voice boomed from the shadows, and it sent a chill down my spine. Instinctively, my hand flew to my sword once again, and my fingers tightened around the worn leather grip. Sapphire was to my left, and she slightly raised her staff in her right hand with the old rusty dagger in her left. Her knuckles began to whiten as she prepared for the unknown.

"I said, who’s there?" the voice demanded again, which sounded extremely sharp in the heavy silence.

The torches lining the stone walls flickered as if they were being stirred by a breeze from an undiscovered source. Their dim light was somehow cast for a long distance while they trembled with the shadows that seemed to dance and shift like restless spirits. From the pitch-black corner of the room, a figure slowly emerged. I could begin to see an old man hunched beneath a broken chandelier. His robes were tattered, barely clinging to his frail body, and his face remained hidden beneath a hood. The deep lines of his age were barely visible within the faint glow.

"We’re travelers," I said cautiously, never taking my eyes off him. My heart pounded violently, but I kept my voice steady. "We need a place to rest."

The old man remained silent, and his gaze moved slowly from me onto Sapphire. His eyes lingered on her staff. His lips pressed into a thin, tight line before he finally spoke. His voice was like gravel. "Perhaps you seek more than rest. What you seek is a shelter, but comfort is a luxury that is not always offered here."

His words sent a shiver through me. There was something off about him, something I found unnerving that irritated the edges of my awareness. Still, I agreed with him. “Shelter will do.”

He gave a slight smirk in return and then motioned while beckoning for us to follow him. As we walked, the corridor stretched on endlessly, its walls closing in like the jaws of some ancient beast. Our footsteps echoed eerily, and the sound amplified in the oppressive silence. The air was ancient and malevolent.

Sapphire walked close beside me, and her beautiful blue eyes were scanning the darkness. I could sense her unease, and when she glanced at me, her voice was barely a whisper. "Vitalis, I don’t like this. Something isn’t right here. This place... it’s more than stone and shadow."

"I know," I muttered, keeping my hand on my sword hilt. "But we don’t have any other options right now."

The corridor finally opened into a large hall in which the only furniture was a long wooden table that was sitting in the center, cloaked in dust. My surroundings felt still as though I had been frozen in time. My eyes were drawn to a small object on the table. There was a vial faintly glowing in the torchlight, and its contents shimmered like liquid silver.

"Rest here," the old man said, breaking the heavy silence with his voice. His eyes flicked toward the vial before settling on me again. "The night is long, and the dawn will bring little comfort."

Without another word, he shuffled back into the darkness, leaving us alone in the vast, eerie hall. I glanced at Sapphire, who had already lowered herself to the floor, but her grip on her staff never loosened.

"Do you trust him?" she whispered, her eyes flicking toward the door where the old man had disappeared.

"No," I said flatly. "But we need rest, and this is the safest place we have, so get some sleep, lass."

My gaze fell to the vial on the table. "Wait... That... could it be the cure for my brother?"

I pointed out the table.

"Yes. I think so," she replied as I felt a rush of hope. "It has to be."

Even as the words left her mouth, the unsettling atmosphere of the place gnawed at me again. Exhaustion pulled at my body, and though my instincts screamed for vigilance, sleep came for me swiftly.