The Forsaken Arts

Chapter 44: Truth Revealed

What is this place? Was one of the many questions that ran through Mikhail's mind as his eyes began adjusting to his dark surroundings while being escorted down a dimly lit corridor by his captors.

The walls of the passageway were not made of stone or concrete slabs, but rather constructed from the remains of those brave men and women that dared to stand against Krinx's tyranny.

Some of the bodies still wore the armor they perished in, while others dawn ruggedly decayed cloth that expressed just how long they had been there.

What he found most disturbing was the skeletons that were too small to be adult, these were sadly the remains of children.

As he continued down the curvy corridor, he sensed that something was off. An uneasy feeling that he had somehow been there before, the sense of deja vu. Glancing just in time, he caught a glimpse of a rather large rat scurrying into the eye socket of one of the skulls.

That's when it hit him, a feeling so heavy in his chest that he almost went crashing to his knees. He had in fact been here before.. this was the place he had unwillingly visited so many times while asleep.

Ni'lerh, who was walking behind him, noticed the young scholar studying the foundation of the walls. "Magnificent is it not? So many have foolishly given their lives, even in death they still serve our master."

"Foolishly? No, their efforts were valiant and just. They are heroes and though their remains lay chained in this shit hole of a fortress, they will never serve the likes of you or your master." the scholar replied glaring ahead at Krinx, hoping to get a reaction but there was no hesitation in his stride, nor turn of his head.

"We'll see just how long your confidence holds up." snickered Pippy as the final twists and turns through the corridors led them to an elegantly-chiseled stone door.

Without even the slightest skip in his step, Krinx continued as the massive door opened seamlessly by itself, revealing a lavishly decorated throne room.

Stone lamps rose up from the floor, each creating a claw that held a single orb as a source of light which lined the room and created a path to the throne itself.

The magnificence of the chamber's opulence was a stark and depressing contrast to the entrance they had just walked through.

The gold linings were blended with jeweled tones of blues and greens that reflected off of lamp's lights, the lushness of the carpet was a deep and rich maroon and black that went on through the entire room.

Thick brocades that had been missing since the Great Conflict warmed and hugged the stone walls. Clearly no expense was spared with the exception of one, off to the side of the chamber was a solitary mediocre stone table. A noticeably mundane piece of furniture compared to the grand and luxurious pieces on the opposite side of the chamber.

Each piece of furniture was crafted from the finest tiger maple, the wood from these trees were rare due to its wonderful black stripes.

Large armor crates lined the inner walls, inlaid with deep precious stones and the smoothest lumber from the Sallow Forest, which was long gone from deforestation. Incenses burned, filling the chamber with the rich aroma from the calypso flower that grew only in the far eastern mountains.

The majestic nature showed this was home to a leader who cared only for his own comfort and not that of his subjects, as outside the splendor of the chamber, the remainder of the fort was drab, dimly lit and murky.

The scent of musk, rotting flesh and mold lingered the halls, assaulting to the nose of even the grimiest of men.

As Mikhail looked around the room, his eyes finally settled on the throne itself and the figure who occupied it.