Light

Chapter Five

The island of Valor was barren of any life, save for the few shrubs that littered the bone-covered fields and Lina and Priam. Walking on it was like trekking through mud; blood infused mud. They had to walk around the bones, and didn't dare touch anything for the risk of disease or infection. 

They had decided to walk towards the tower, as it seemingly the only man-made structure on the dead island. For all they know, some wood that had survived time's curse was abundant enough to float out of Valor, or at least repair the boat to the best of their extent. But until then, they were stuck here, with no help, very limited food options, and Naga knows how much time. 

It took approximately an hour to reach the tower, which was mostly hindered by Priam's leg, and by then it was near high noon. They slowly approached it, but it didn't seem like there were any traps. Opening the stone door, a wave of musky odor filled the two's nostrils. They reeled back from the suddenness of it, but quickly adjusted as they entered as it was similar to the strong smell of Risen hordes, except stronger.

Inside, it was, well, dark. Really, really dark. Lina couldn't see two paces in front of her. The only source of dim light was the sunlight that streamed through the riddled holes above them. A single, spiraling staircase made of coarse stone that looked like it would falter at any given moment started at the end of the room, with a trapdoor that seemed to lead underground beside it. There were two treasure chests, but they were open, and upon further inspection, empty. Cobwebs covered the walls, staircase, treasure chests, and even the floor. 

"I'll take the upstairs, you go to the cellar," Lina prompted, already stepping on the lower step to make sure it was strong, then continuing upward. Which left Priam alone on the lower floor. Sighing in annoyance, he struggled to get down and attempt to open the wooden trapdoor while covering his grabbing hand with the cape. It took a while, but eventually he was successful, opening the door with a muffled BANG!. A single wooden ladder led down, and Priam cursed. Of course it had to be ladders.

His leg didn't help matters, for when he put a decent amount of pressure, pain shot up his leg and he grit his teeth to let not a peep out. He gripped the ladder all the more tightly while he tried to climb down without the use of his right leg. It took at least five minutes to shimmy down the ladder, trying not to get splinters or bang his leg against the wall, because when he accidentally did so, he shouted words that would've gotten dirty glares from Maribelle. Or Chrom, for that matter. And if looks could kill, Priam would've been dead over and over.

Carefully stepping both legs on the ground below, which seemed to be covered in hay or some other plant, he looked around. It was darker further in the room, but beside the ladder stood a small metal lamp, with a half-melted candle in it. Thankful he had the bag, he reached in to grab the matches. Unfortunately, it took many tries to get a single light, since the box was pretty wet from the storm last night. Finally, he got a flitting flame, which he used to light the candle before it extinguished completely. The flame caught onto the candle's wick, where it grew into a comfortable size and gave off a dark amber glow, which filled half of the basement. 

The basement really had nothing in it: just a skeleton and a bag on a collapsed wooden table. Candles were spilled on the floor, on top of the moldy hay covering the majority of the floor. The skeleton just sat on its own corner, a hand on a burlap sack and a bronze flask. Other than that, it held nothing of importance. 

Priam stumbled to the bag, opening and spilling the contents on the lopsided table: three Elixirs, a book, and crackers. Lots and lots of rectangles of crackers and hardtack spilled the bag, and when Priam looked inside the bag, the bag was half-full of the food. It didn't show any signs of mold, but showed a few burrowing holes with dead insects. He didn't at first realize the temperature fall about ten degrees, but felt progressively colder as he examined more of the hardtack. 

Then some type of wind noises started up. Priam looked around for the possible source, since he was sure that wind didn't blow hard enough to produce noise underground, but only saw the open hole as a culprit. He shrugged it off, thinking it could just be his imagination or the pain of his leg climbing down affecting his mind. Affirming the food to be safe enough for consumption, he started packing the crackers in his own bag.

"Oh, do stop it!"

Priam stopped, looking around for the source of the voice. He gulped as he then continued placing crackers in the bag. 

"Wait a second, dear Lord. Thieving is for the Thieves, not for Lords, dear Lord. Those are somebody else's!"

Priam tried his best to ignore the strange voice. It was pretty annoying.

"Sir! I have no choice! I hope you like it!"

The voice went silent for a while, which Priam was eternally grateful for, until he heard a chilling voice on his right:

"I... I shall haunt you in the night... And steal your crackers!!"

Priam glanced at his right, and screamed as he tumbled backwards and fell on his back, dropping the lamp. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

Before him, there stood a six-foot tall ghost floating menacingly towards Priam, an excited smile on his face. 

"That's right!" the spectre shouted, floating right above Priam's paralyzed body. "Crackers I shall steal from you! While I haunt you in the night! Oh wait..." The ghost straightened his back as he assumed a thinking pose. "That's right. Those are all my crackers! Those crackers! My crackers! I stole them, you know. Because, you know, I like crackers. Crackers. Crackers, crackers, crackers. Is that why you're stealing them too? Because you like crackers?" He then continued leaning, until he was face to face to Priam when he suddenly stopped leaning. He rushed backwards, inspecting the stump of where he was floating, putting a pouty face on. "Aww. I can't continue leaning."

For some reason, that statement made Priam start scrambling away from the phantom, until he had his back to the wall. He wished that he had Ragnell with him, which was above ground; while it might not affect the ghost, at least it would fill him with a false sense of bravery. 

The ghost looked up, and he blinked. "Oh. So sorry." He cleared his throat, then smiled as he extended a hand towards Priam. "Don't think we've been properly introduced yet! Not sure what my name is, but I've been called 'senile old man', 'town idiot', 'cracker thief', 'filthy beggar', and lots more! How many names have you been called?" 

That was when Priam realized: he couldn't get out. With his leg being broken, it would be a struggle to get out, and climbing up might hurt it more, which would prolong the healing time. And for whatever reason, the ghost couldn't exactly roam the place either, so he was relatively safe... For the moment. 

"Priam?" 

Priam nearly jumped out of his skin, but relaxed slightly when he recognized it as Lina's voice. He saw her face poke out, or rather in, raising an eyebrow when she saw Priam on the floor. "Priam? Is that you? I heard a scream, so I rushed back--"

"Oh hey!" The ghost half-greeted, half-screamed, reaching as far as he can in Lina's direction. "Are you the Lord's girlfriend? Because you definitely have the looks for it."

"Excuse me?!" Lina exclaimed, looking around the cellar. "I am no--" She paled considerably when she caught sight of the ghost. "Holy--"

"I knew it!" The ghost punched the air in excitement, turning to Priam. "Oh Lord! I didn't know you had a girlfriend by the looks of you! When's the marriage?"

Priam gave the ghost one last stare before fainting.

Lina glared at the ghost and spat out, "There is no marriage, ya bloody moron. And now I have to haul him upstairs. Thanks a load."