26 Stab in the Dark

'Ah! Adventurers! You came!" Hector mooted loudly. Damon and Tarsus were dressed in leather battle armor. Felicity, who was not a fighter to begin with, was in wools to counter the cold of the night. She had refused to wear armor of any sort, contrary to the counsel of her partners. Instead, she asked the men to worry about themselves and not get stuck anywhere. 'We put the matter to vote, and it was unanimous," Damon quipped. 'I am glad," the Prefect said. 'Victory feels more certain now. I hope you are not bringing the kid." Zoe had been put to sleep in Felicity's room. It would be risky for the trio to take the child into the enemy's den at that time of night. 'She is weary from the trip and is enjoying a good night's sleep." 'Good. Good. It is better if girls her age do not see such horrors." Outside the inn, seventeen other people were gathered. These were folks who came from other towns, adventurers, local citizens, inn staff. 'You have collected quite the rabble," Tarsus joked. 'Most of these have never fought before. Forget about facing dark magic," Hector replied. 'And that is why I asked for your help." 'We are at your disposal. However, we have little experience with the sort of magic you refer to." Hector lit his tobacco pipe and blew the smoke away from them. 'I can smell it on you," he said curiously. You have recently touched those vile things. Things from stories that we tell children to scare them to sleep." The trio shrugged at each other. Hector seemed to be trustworthy. 'It was just one time," Tarsus admitted. 'And we are yet to understand what happened then." 'Darkness is rising, my dear young adventurers. From places most unexpected. I will do as much as I can before things get out of hand, and the gods have to intervene." 'But this will count as an exploit?" Damon pushed. 'Most certainly. I shall detail it on a parchment with a mark of my seal as Prefect. Of course, that is, considering we come back alive tonight. Let us not put the cart before the horse." 'Gather around everyone!" he declared to the group. 'It is time." The raiders formed a circle, and Hector explained how their adversaries were holed up in a cave in the wilderness. The reports were that the children were alive, and on the night of the solstice, they will be sacrificed to the Dark Seraph, Aera Cura. 'That is so disturbing," Felicity said. 'I had never heard of such horrible people." 'There are groups like these all over Theikos, my dear. Fanatics! They reject the rule of titans and wish to revive Aera Cura." 'But Cura is a myth. Is it even possible to revive a seraph?" one of the other adventurers asked. 'I am afraid most of these cults are full of lunatics and zealots and have little idea about what they are doing. Nevertheless, some are well versed in dark magick and may invoke something terrible to our world, if not Aera Cura." 'Are the titans aware of this? You are an emissary of the gods, aren't you, Hector?" the stable hand offered. 'I am an agent of the Ascendancy, yes. However, I have not spoken to a titan in years. It is usually a princep or a prior that I have an exchange with." 'Then let us handle this ourselves!" one of the aggrieved fathers exclaimed, and the rest of the crowd raised their voices to support him. 'Yes, we can do this," Hector assured them. 'Now we have some adventurers on our side as well." He pointed at the heroic trio. There were enthusiastic cheers, and the group set about charting their course. The raiders carried several weapons, including swords, bows and arrows, lances, and some even had pitchforks. Hector led them on horseback for a couple of miles to the west of Dishwater Inn. A forest trail meandered into the wilderness, and the group proceeded on it for another hour. It was pitch dark, and every raider carried a torch to light the way. The ground was covered with twigs, fallen leaves on moss. Ferns, brambles, thickets, and berry bushes lined the trail. The raiders' feet shuffling through the forest litter echoed near and far. The wind whistled around trunks and through the foliage. It smelled of rotting wood, wildflowers, minty herbs, and skunk weeds. The air tasted sour and acrid as if something offensive was festering in the woods. Amid the music of the larks, ferocious beasts growled from the shadows but did not dare to come into the torchlight. Finally, they reached the mouth of a cave. It loomed like the gaping jaws of a monster. The group whispered to each other, gathering courage. They entered, with Hector and the trio leading them. The roof of the cave was low, and the path descended. It was an underground hollow. After a while, the raiders found themselves in a chamber. It had two paths that diverged from openings. 'We have to split up," Hector decided. 'You can take all the other men on the left path, and our group will go on the other," Damon suggested. Everyone else agreed. The trio proceeded down the tunnel on the right and found themselves in a narrower passage than earlier. Tarsus could not walk straight without scraping his head on the roof. Torches were lining the way. They were well-oiled, as if someone had recently lit them. Some carvings and paintings adorned the wall. Felicity stopped to examine one under the torchlight. It depicted a strange creature. She leaned in for a closer look. The caricature seemed to have a life of its own. A seemingly giant man with a hundred snake heads on its shoulders, with flickering tongues. Under the brows of the heads flashed fire. Voices rose from all its dreadful heads- every kind of sound speakable and unspeakable. The noise of a bull bellowing aloud, the roar of a lion, the whelps of calves and cubs, the hisses of vipers, some wonderful to hear and others terrible. 'Felicity!" Damon and Tarsus shook her back to reality. 'What? What happened?" She asked. 'You have been staring at that image for a long time." 'Oh, pardon me, I had a vision perhaps," she said, scratching the paint on the cave wall with a nail. It scraped off with ease. 'What was it about? The painting," Tarsus asked. 'I do not know. I heard these sounds. Then there was a vision. Never mind. It is not the right time to ponder on such things. Let us move on." The trio continued down the path. Every once in a while, they found the same creature painted on the wall. It seemed the passage was full of the dreadful art. 'Perhaps it is something sacred for the cult," Damon assumed. 'But I have never seen such a creature in books or heard of it in lore." After they encountered the same image for the twentieth time, he asked his partners to halt. 'Wait," Damon said, observing the caricature by himself. 'What is it?" Felicity asked. 'Look at this," he offered, pointing at a portion of the painting. 'I see nothing unusual. It is the same art," Tarsus complained. 'Exactly. Felicity scratched the first painting at the same place." 'What do you mean?" 'It is the same painting," Damon asserted, facing them. 'What? That makes little sense. We have been walking for half an hour." Felicity went ahead and confirmed that it was the exact location where she had made the scratch. They went further down the path and examined the following art. The scraped-off paint was repeated. Felicity held her hands up and sighed. 'This is an illusion spell." 'An illusion spell?" 'It is making us go in circles." 'How do we break out of it?" 'You are lucky you have a Muse with you," she said smugly. 'Oratos Rem!" Felicity chanted. Tarsus and Damon gasped as they heard a bubble pop in their ears. 'Follow me," Felicity said, and resumed walking. This time, within a few minutes, a dull glow appeared at the end of the path. They had reached the mouth of the enemy's den. Two guards stood guarding the entrance. They wore cowls and had daggers on their belts. It seemed as if they were reclining on the wall, most likely sleepy. 'Let me tackle these zealots," Tarsus offered. Damon held him back. 'There could be more. Many more," he whispered. 'We do not want to alert them of our arrival. We risk endangering Gector's group. Let us do this quietly." Damon tiptoed silently in the dark, undetected. For an assassin of his caliber, this was child's play. He jabbed his stylus needles into the necks of the unsuspecting guards. They slumped to the ground, and Damon made sure their collapse made no sounds. The trio walked into the light, and a cavernous hall greeted them. A ledge ran around the shaft with a rope ladder descending into the cavern. The first thing their eyes fell on was a cage at the center with over fifty children locked inside. All of them looked alive. 'Let us do this," Damon said, twiddling his fingers.