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Stone and Wolf (Part 7)

The silence of this great stone chamber was oppressive. Lykes' claws made dull clicking noises on the floor as he took each step with caution, his sword in his paws. His muzzle pointed this way and that, taking in the environment he found himself in. The camber was huge, and rectangular. Columns stretched up to the ceiling about eighty feet up. Much of the stone bore markings and engravings similar to the runes on the amulets, and the scrolls Lyke had seen Ilisha scribe. Once, he had looked over her shoulder and asked her if she would tell him what they meant. She had pointed to one and said: "That's "Body"... That's "Pain"... and that's "Reach"..." He remembered he pointed to one that looked different from the runes she had been referring to. "What's that one?" He had said, to which she answered: "You wouldn't understand that one... It doesn't translate into our language."

Looking about the chamber, he could spot some of those mysterious runes that had no meaning in their language. His wandering steps took him to the other side, past a long table and chairs made of stone, and what seemed to be some kind of fire pit, to the far wall. On this wall, there was an elaborate relief carving. It depicted creatures that stood on two legs like Wolves. Lykes' guard dropped a little as he marveled at its size and detail. It must have taken a long time to carve. One creature held up a long rod that crackled with what looked like lightning bolts. The bolts struck down other creatures of the same kind that where dressed differently, and carried strange weapons. The first figure wore a long, flowing robe, whereas the others wore tighter clothing with blotches all over them. Lyke wasn't sure if the blotches where supposed to represent color, or actual rises and divots in their clothing. The figures being stuck with the bolts where falling. Fear and pain was carved into their faces. Their oddly dysfunctional weapons, rendered useless by the magic of the ancient user, clattered to the ground.

When Lykes' eyes followed the natural curve of the carving, his gaze was distracted by a slightly lighter shade of brown on the floor. He stooped and retrieved the object, finding a sheet of delicate parchment in his paw. This he un-curled carefully, turning his sword point-down to use his fore claw and thumb, and discovered the same runic script decorated this page. It was the unmistakable pen work of Ilisha. There must be a clue somewhere... Where did you go Ilisha? What where you doing? The page had many scribbles on it, with many lines of runes crossed out in frustrated strokes of a black charcoal pen. Lyke looked up at the engraving, then back to the page. The wall had runes much like the ones she had written here. In fact, though not in the same order, all the runes where duplicated on the wall. Lyke got down on his paws and knees to examine them closer. One rune in particular called out to him. He ran his claw over its ridged surface. Seplictica. He removed his paw from the wall with a jerk as the voice entered his mind. It sounded like his voice in a hushed, but intense tone. Ilisha never told me any of the runes names... How did I know that was the runes name? He held a curious paw back out to the wall. This time, he thought of the word as he touched the same rune. Seplictica! His own voice shouted at him, but still in a whisper. Well... He thought to himself. There's only one thing for it. He took a bracing breath, steeling himself. Then his paw ran over the length of the wall underneath the carving, stopping only briefly between each rune. Benorta. Tiotic. Urad. Velepki. Ohvena... His paw found the last one and slid from the wall. Lyke suddenly felt tired. His muzzle fell against his chest as he slumped back on his heels. His head was spinning from waves of new information. The terrible thing was, none of it made any sense. He shut his eyes tight and concentrated on one thing, but it just slipped away, replaced by something even more incoherent. He reopened his eyes when he realized none of the information was being processed. His mind would not grasp it, although he was maddeningly close.

After finding himself in the real world again, he cast a look behind him. In doing so, he spotted a door on the right hand wall. I could just skip this nonsense and try that door... But I can't... I've got to stay and figure this out. This is too important. More important than what is behind that door, even if Ilisha was right there waiting for me. He felt disgusted with himself that the thought even entered his mind, but he had to admit that even if he was told she was right there and all he had to do was walk over and claim her, it would have to wait until this was over. It was far too important. Now with a feverish desire, he brought the parchment back up to his nose. He saw the runes on the page. They were exactly the same as the ones on the wall, but he couldn't put names to them. Out of anger, he shoved his paw into a rune at random. TIOTIC! His brain was racked with the knowledge of the rune, but when he shifted his eyes to the page, the rune had lost all meaning.

"Damn it!" He cried and hit the wall with his fist. There he knelt in despair, breathing hard like his mind had run a hundred leagues. Pull yourself together... why does it bother me so much? It's just a stupid wall with stupid runes on it... why do I care so much? I care a lot! He returned to the page. Ilisha must have scribbled these last runes out for a reason. Lyke inspected the lines under the scribbles. They were the same runes, just in different orders. It's the order that matters, not... whatever else there was...How could it have been so simple. Following the last line of runes, he placed his paw on each of them in turn. As he did so, a rhythmic pattern emerged like the lines of a poem. Urad Benorta Ohvena. Seplictica, Velepki Tiotic. As he finished the last rune, something exploded in his skull that sent him careening into the floor. He felt like he understood a little more than he did before, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what. This thought engrossed him so much, that he barely had any interest in the fact that the carving had slid into the floor, revealing a hidden hallway.

The thoughts slowly cleared and his eyes focused on the opening. He shook the psychic cobwebs out of his head, and he was able to get himself up, retrieving his sword that had fallen beside him. His foot-paws felt unsteady beneath him. However, upon gazing down the new passage, he griped the blades hilt harder and forced himself to move forward.

This hall was stark and unremarkable, like the ancients had built it simply as a conveyance from the secret entrance to wherever they had it come out. After a few yards it turned to the left. Lyke's paws gained back some of their strength and his steps quickened. The time he spent at the runes seemed like a dream already. No more time would be lost in such pursuits. The hall continued this way then turned right, and right again. The floor was inclined at shaper and sharper angles the further he progressed. Soon he came upon a door at a dead end. Without a second thought, he griped the handle with his free paw. The metal was colder than the stuffy air. As he applied pressure downward, the sound of springs and bolts sliding out of place could be heard. The door must have been securely locked from the other side. In any case, it was free now and Lyke pushed it open, revealing a landing in between two sets of stairs. The grey stone was darker here, and colder under-paw as he stepped out. There was little light here. The torch sconces had not been used since they were last lit by the ancients. The stairs went up and down from this landing. Which way, Ilisha? Lyke barked in surprise as flame sprang up from the sconces in the walls without any physical cause. He clutched his straight sword tight, debating whether or not to switch to the ancient blade he had at his hip.

"What ancient sorcery is this? What demon of the dead world comes? Speak!" Lyke shouted first down the stairs, then up. A rush of wind flowed up the steps and beat into him, forcing him to widen his stance against it. A deep male voice spoke in a whisper, yet it was very clear, like he was talking not to him, but beside him.

"Sen Morotoc! Your trail starts now, animal of the new world." The voices' tone picked up suddenly and spoke directly in his ear. "Run!" The second the voice spoke, a torch went out near the bottom of the stairs to his right. Bolts of lightning licked the walls and cascaded like a spiders web spanning the hall where the torch had been. Before Lyke could move, the next torch went out, with the same effect. At this rate, they would reach the landing in a little more than three seconds. Seeing this, Lyke's heart leapt to his throat and he turned tail up the stairs. His legs propelled him in long strides, taking the steps three at a time as his violin bounced up and down on his back. The booms and crackles of the lightning followed him close behind, as did the darkness in the absence of the torches. The stairs curved to the right and he hugged close to the inner wall to maximize his distance over time. He was relieved to see another door at the top as he rounded the corner, nearly ten yards up. Lyke's foot-paws scraped at the dark stone in desperation, trying to fling him up to the door. He just prayed it was unsealed. His paw hit the handle first, turning it before his body touched it. Then, he let all his weight slam into the flat wooden surface. He was immediately glad he did, for the old wood splintered around the unyielding metal bolts that held it as he fell forward through the new opening. His momentum brought him down to the stone floor, which he rolled over, springing back up to his paws to watch the door in terror. The last touch just outside went out and filled the doorway with crackling sparks.

Lyke braced himself, crouching low and shutting his eyes tight. A slight whimper escaped his throat. No further noise issued from the stairway, or within the room he had fallen in. All was heavy with silence. Slowly, Lyke opened his eyes to find himself in a well lit room full of books and scrolls. Bulky wooden cases and shelves, ornately carved, lined the walls. The floor was partially covered in a green carpet that ran up to a curved grand window overlooking the courtyard. Lyke stood, lifting his ears off his head where they had lain since he started running. He gave the dusty air a sniff. The smell of old parchment and mildew filled the chamber. Looking about, he saw much of the parchment on his left side had been disturbed. Thinking of Ilisha, he hurried to inspect them. A table rested in the middle of the room. It seemed most of the disturbed and missing parchment had been moved to its surface. Lyke pawed over the scattered sheets, hoping to find something written in their language. To his delight, it didn't take too long. After setting his sword on the table, he picked up a particular sheet with Ilisha's script on it, scanning it with frantic eyes, knowing this could spell her doom, or salvation.

This is just a note to remind myself of how to write in my native script, and to set a few things down to memory. Firstly, your name is Ilisha. You are a wolf. Your horse, Ara, is outside, untethered, waiting for you to return. You are studying the ancient magic via these scrolls, but with limited success. You are going down to the lower levels to uncover an artifact of great power. This artifact may change you, but you must adhere to this note on your return to this chamber, for you left one of your most prized possessions here: your mates' amulet. It should be on this table. It is silver with an amber sphere. As for your mate, his name is Lyke. He may be looking for you. This is a good thing, and you should go to him after your journey to the lower levels, and discontinue your research, regardless of your progress. You live in a village far to the south past two mountain ranges, a marsh, and a jungle. Your favorite things about Lyke are his eyes, his strong paws, and mostly, his strong soul. This soul must be protected, and not used for any purpose other than your love, for it is almost as strong as your own, as rare as that may seem.

Lyke saw the lines skip down and start a new paragraph, written later on with a hasty paw.

Note. Lower level requires an auditory key... Mind is slipping...must be, because the voice won't leave me alone. It calls me to the lower levels as I write. I must answer its summons.

He slapped down the parchment and rifled through the rest of the sheets, looking for any kind of further note, or description of the auditory key. It wouldn't matter in any case. He would go down there and fetch her, wither he find her well, insane, wounded, or dead. He would drag her corpse out of that moon forsaken pit in he had to. Few other sheets had their language written on it at all. They were all small notes made to herself about some kind of magic or another, or about herself should she forget. In one corner she had written something, then crossed it out. It said: I miss you Lyke. I'm so sorry. Lyke put the parchment down. Nothing further would be gained here, except for his amulet. It was nowhere to be seen on the table, so he stooped down to check if it had fallen off. Sure enough, the amber sphere caught the final golden rays of sunlight spilling across the cold floor. He stretched his free paw under the table and took hold of it, sighing in relief as his pads wrapped around it. Soon, he was standing up with the stone around his neck. This amulet was the symbol of his love for Ilisha. He gave it to her the day they professed their love. He took up the amber ball and sniffed for Ilisha's scent. A smile crossed his muzzle when he found it. This expression turned into a determined frown, and the ball dropped from his paw. He was tired, sore, and confused, but that was not going to deter him. He turned on the spot back for the doorway, not forgetting the voice that tried to kill him.

"Ancient demon!" He barked as he returned to the steps, his sword aloft. "I'll have her from you! Harken to me! I will wrest her from your fetid paws!" Another rush of wind came up the steps. He was almost back to the landing when the voice whispered in his ear again.

"Does the female worry you so, animal? Come to me, see her for yourself." It shocked Lyke to hear such a direct answer.

"What do you know of her?!" He howled, marching down the steps farther. "You will pay ten-fold for any harm to her, with me as your judgment!" A hideous laugh resounded from below.

"Ah ha ha ha ha! My knowledge exceeds yours by more than ten-fold. You are a spawn of the new world, crawling out of the old on all fours. Now that you stand upright, you presume you can harm me? Dictate terms? Even behold me? That final honor you shall have. Come to me! Show me how your species has progressed! Your mate can't be the only one!" Lyke's decent slowed as he thought over that last sentence.

"What do you mean?" There was only silence from below.