An Enchanting Tale

Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty Six

"More endless walking...and more, more, endlesser walking," Zolara remarked.

"Stop complaining," Brelyna fired back.

Zolara gave a shrug of exasperation. Several minutes of traversing the dwemer corridor revealed nothing aside from smooth walls and green flames lining the ceiling. Several twists and turns persisted. Exhausted, the group broke once more.

"Goodness, but the argonian was right," Aicantar heaved.

"Aye. My old bones are beginning to creak," Falion complained as he unfurled his bedroll.

"Where do you think this will lead," S'maath asked.

"Hopefully, the center of Tamriel," S'maash answered.

"But what do we do then," Zolara pried.

"I don't know...I'm sure we'll figure it out. Look how far we've come. We may very well be the only people to have traveled here in thousands of years. I see no remains, and only that dwarven spider did we come across," S'maash replied.

"I didn't expect this journey to be so...devoid of adversity," S'maath said with a wince. Brelyna looked at him with an accusatory raising of the brow. "Oh, but I'm very glad to have joined you all...."

S'maash smirked. After eating, laughing, and a few swigs of nord mead, they pressed on. Hours went by when heat crept into the corridor, heat and the smell of molten stone.

"We are coming close to something. The air is different here," Zolara said.

It was only a short while before the corridor spat them into a cave. The greatest point of interest was a magnificent, dwemer, puzzle box a hundred or so paces away. Like the door, it too, had the odd circles and bluish baubles. A path of stone, like obsidian, lay before the crew; a step down onto the natural stone gave them a new perspective.

Lava bubbled around them. They had adequate room to navigate without danger, but the cave was very hot. Several other corridors either led to or from the cavern, but to sights unseen.

"I would wager, there are many paths here leading to other cities," Falion said.

"Excellent. Whatever it is we must do should be indicated by what is in that puzzle box," S'maash said.

They eagerly walked towards it. None of them had bothered to look at the ceiling, where rows of shiny, blue, colored statues were fastened in an upsidedown, squatting position. Surreptitiously, The Men of Aetherius—guardians of the Centers of the Worlds—eyed the intruders. Upon coming close to the puzzle box, one of them snapped to life. It dropped down between S'maash and the box; on one knee and one fist, the Man of Aetherius smashed into the stone floor.

The crew halted, wide eyed. The athletically designed golem raised its smooth, round head, which was fashioned to look like a full helmet. Instead of eyes, it had only a menacing slit, from which darkness exuded. With subtle gasps of awe and wonder, the group looked at the machine come to a full stand. Its body was made to look like elven armor, only very smooth and more round in its shoulders, hips, and thighs. The Man of Aetherius drew two aetherial, short swords and charged like a flash of lightning at the group.

"By the Nine!" Zolara managed to say as he dove to the side.

He had been close to S'maash, and the machine bore down on the dark elf. While the group started the rituals of summoning atronachs and such, S'maash planted his feet in anticipation, and grasped his sword in both hands.

The opponent deftly stopped just feet from S'maash and performed an aerial. The jump placed it in an upsidedown, vertical position directly over S'maash. Before the elf reacted to the maneuver, the machine was falling towards him with both swords aimed directly down. S'maash's mouth drooped a little. A potent blow from his rear caused him to stumble forwards, and the Man of Aetherius missed. Quickly, it recovered as S'maath laid into its back.