A Kingdom in Half Light

Chapter 3; The Mountain of the Souls

So we set off, heading for the cape of peril. On the way we passed through many strange and untamed lands. Ruins of ancient races, some maybe even built by the elves. There were trees which seemed as high as the moon, and seas as deep as the past.

Five days on we had almost reached the cape that we had spent so long searching for. It stood out against the sky, a huge mass of rock. Near the top something glistened, but I knew not what it was.

We spent another four days getting there, for the land around was thick with forest. Strange creatures dwelled there, beyond the eyes of all that was good and true. This was a land where fire lived.

The wind stood still as we approached the high mountain. Many miles up the birds circled, waiting for their prey.

“We could be climbing for several hours,” said Mirgrin.

“OK,” I said back.

He was right, we climbed for at least an hour. I lost my grip many times but Mirgrin managed stopped me from falling. When we reached the first ledge we must have been five hundred meters up, with another five hundred meters until we would have to stop. But Mirgrin found a cave leading into the cliff.

It was quite small and water made the floor slippery. The cave soon opened out and became as large as one of the great tombs of the elves. Mirgrin lit his torch and held the burning flame aloft.

A thin ray of sunlight split the room in two. We looked up and saw a small square hole in the roof.

I took a rope from my bag and tied a rock to the end. Then I threw it up. The first time it missed but the second I felt it catch on something.

I stepped forwards and grabbed the end of the rope. It seemed stable, so I slowly began to climb.

Mirgrin watched until I was right at the top. Then he grabbed hold and began to climb.

Looking around I saw a small marsh surrounded by plants and trees. Mirgrin came up.

“I think we’ll set up camp here then,” he said.

That night we devised a plan to find out what was up here. I would scout ahead and Mirgrin would follow close behind. He reckoned it would be easier if I set off tonight and set up another camp. Apparently it would mean that it would be harder for ‘them’ to take us out.

So I set off, heading north on a route we had already worked out. The air was dark, and soaked in death. I stumbled through the undergrowth, for by now the marsh was long past. I had reached a dead land, an empty land, beyond all knowledge. No mortal man should ever set foot there. The vines of a once great forest lay upon the ground, blackened with time.

Stepping forward I noticed a great cathedral like building, as though of ice, but dark like shadow. A hand reached out and tugged at my shoulder. I turned, Mirgrins face poked out from behind a bush.

I walked over to him, “What?” I asked.

“You should not be here.” He whispered.

“Why not, what is this place?” I asked.

“This is a Temple,” he muttered, “To the dark one, the Crown.”

At that moment a group of people came out, I recognised them as my master’s killers. I lunged at them. They did not notice. I yelled and plunged my sword into them. Still they walked on.

Mirgrin walked over, “Their souls have been taken, they are as good as dead.” He muttered, “You can do what you want, I shall leave you here, I wish you luck, but I will not risk death.”

He turned and walked away.

I decided to enter the temple, and maybe this would have something to do with the murderers of my master.

As I approached the doors opened and a smell of deep decay overwhelmed me. Coughing, I stumbled through the doors. Then I walked on, nervously at first then with interest. It seemed empty, even forgotten.

Suddenly I came upon a huge stone slab about two meters across. Examining it more closely I saw writing, but not in a language I understood.

In an instant the room became icy cold, and the stone began to rotate. It turned until there was an echoing boom from somewhere miles below the earth. A drop of water fell from the ceiling into an impression in the stone. Another fell. There was an intake of breath behind me. Turning I saw a man, or at least what looked like a man just very, very old.

“W wh wh who are you?” I stammered.

“I am King Valun,” he said, “Or as some call me; The Crown”

More water dripped behind me.

“I think your ice palace is melting,” I said.

“Oh, this temple isn’t made of ice,” he murmured.

“What then?” I asked.

“It is made from souls.” He said.

“What about the water?” I asked.

“No, that’s soul,” he answered, a slight grin stretching across his face.

I stepped backwards, tripped, and landed on the stone. He laughed, withdrawing some sort of wand from his pocket. Horrified, I tried to get up but he knocked me down, with a force far stronger than what I had expected.

 He stuck both arms out and called, his words were so terrible that all light was blocked out. Only the dripping could be heard.

Fire burst from the brackets on the walls, spilling light out into the room. In the second before he took my soul I leapt forwards and hit him in the face. He fell against the cold, hard walls of soul, and I thought I could see smoke rising from him.

I ran, my mind like dancing fire. Finally I stopped, not sure where I was.

There I slept, for three days I camped there not sure where to go. On my fourth day I saw lights on the hillside opposite where I lay.

I called and the lights moved. Maybe they’d heard me. A few minutes later a man came out of the trees, he held a candle in his hand. With his map I worked out my way home, thanked him, and left.

So after three months after leaving the Crown I came home. Over a year had past and much had changed. My house however was much as it had been when I had left. It was as if nothing had happened. Forgotten. Or at least that was what I believed.