Reckoning of the Gods: Heretic - Chapter 3: No Escape

Fortunately, Mura Pai Vahl remembered most of the twisting paths through the labyrinth that was Clearbrook, and by now, there was no resistance from any guards. In fact, Vahl and his sister barely encountered a living being as they climbed higher and higher in the fortress.

With the Fallow mostly gone, Vahl had to navigate around closed passages and lifeless lifts. He always had a good sense of direction, and even in a place like this, he never felt completely lost. Nonetheless, Vahl knew that the Stormborn could arrive at any minute and cut off their escape. He couldn’t afford to waste a single second, so he pushed on despite the growing pain in his chest, legs, and back. Even Mura Pai Ziva started to lag behind, but finally, after countless corridors, stairs, and passages, Vahl and his sister reached their destination.

A dozen or so Mura Kur were still picking through treasure, and they barely noticed the intrusion.

“We have to leave now!” shouted Vahl.

His voice echoed through the treasure chamber, but the Mura Kur simply stared at him.

“A Stormborn is coming,” explained his sister, Ziva, catching her breath as she rushed in behind him.

A Pale Man with intricate brandings on his face stepped forward. Vahl recognized him as the Mura Kur chieftain, Sevet.

“Impossible,” said Sevet. “We were promised that no Stormborn would be within one hundred leagues of here.”

Vahl didn’t have time to argue with the chieftain, but he couldn’t deny that the presence of the Stormborn raised some important questions. Did the Stormborn know of their attack beforehand? If so, who warned them?

“I am telling you what we saw. My uncle, Osur, confirmed it,” said Ziva. “A Stormborn is coming.”

Slowly, a few Mura Kur started heading for the doorway, but Sevet was unconvinced. He motioned for them to stay put.

“Enough,” said Sevet. “You have warned us. You may go.”

Ziva turned to leave, but Vahl wanted the chieftain to see reason. Despite the man’s stern demeanor, there was reason behind his fiery red eyes.

“We have risked our lives to warn you. At this very instant, the Stormborn is racing to this keep. When they arrive, you will have no way to escape this mountain, and you will suffer quick deaths, if you are lucky. If we are wrong, then you lose a few trinkets, but if we are right, you will escape a brutal death.”

Sevet measured Vahl’s words carefully. The Mura Pai and Mura Kur weren’t particularly close, but they had never raised sword against each other. Their blood bond was intact, and there was no reason for Vahl to lie to him. Shaking his head, the chieftain called on his tribe to leave. The Mura Kur quickly absconded with their treasures and gathered behind their chieftain.

“I know the way,” said Vahl, leading the Mura Kur.

As they left the treasure room, an ominous sound rang throughout the keep. It was more of a wail than a blast, but the message was clear. 

The Immir were coming.

“Hurry!” shouted Vahl.

Now, Vahl was racing against a Stormborn and any nearby Immir. The wooden wings would be useless if the Immir reached the fortress in time. If that happened, they would have to use the secret path, although that left them completely open to attack from the air. Before, they had the advantage of surprise, but now, they would be easy prey for the Immir and the Stormborn. The only other option was to hide inside the fortress and wait for the cover of night, but that seemed the riskiest option of all. Within minutes, Clearbrook would be swarming with enemies, and the chances of them evading capture was small.

The Mura Kur followed Vahl and his sister as they worked their way through the fortress. The group was joined by a few Pale Men tribes as well as a handful of Scaleskin and Fallow. By the time that they reached the main hall, they numbered close to forty strong. Even with these numbers, they would be no match for a flock of Immir, much less a Stormborn. Escape was their only option, but the heavy gates of Clearbrook were closed. 

They were too late.

“Godsbreath,” muttered Ziva.

A handful of Pale Men, Fallow, and Scaleskin were barring the doors with whatever they could find. Most of them were wounded, and a few lay dead, their lifeless bodies propped against the heavy doors. A muffled cacophony grew louder as they approached.

Sevet motioned one of his men to step forward and peer through a small opening in the gate. The Pale Man stumbled backward as an arrow pierced his eye socket. He slumped to the ground, his sword clattering on the hard floor. Flashes of lightning illuminated the edges of the gates, and loud peals of thunder shook the entire fortress.

“The Immir came out of nowhere,” said one of the Pale Men guarding the door. “They destroyed the wooden wings first, and then they started picking us off. There must be dozens, hundreds even. Then, the Stormborn came.”

One of the Scaleskin made a sharp hissing noise. Vahl wondered if that was a sound of disgust, fear, or a mixture of both.

“The sky erupted,” said a tawny brown Fallow no taller than a child. “At first, rain. Then, hail. Winds so strong that they lifted stone from the earth.”

Fear passed over the room like a troublesome spirit, weakening their nerves and whispering in their ears.

“Enough,” said Sevet, kneeling beside his fallen comrade and closing his eyes. “Our path is clear. There is no escape, so we must fight.”

“What fight? We run or we die,” said the hissing Scaleskin. “There are many passages out of this place. We can show you. We can find a way out.”

Another crack of thunder shook the entire fortress. The tawny brown Fallow perked up their tufted ears.

“Immir. They will be here soon.”

Murmurs and glances among the Pale Men. Their resolve started to falter.

“The Immir cannot fly in here,” said Sevet. “As long as these gates hold, we can fight. As long we can fight, we can survive.”

“For how long?” asked the hissing Scaleskin. “If we leave now, then maybe we escape. If not, better a quick death than a long, painful one.”

Sevet scoffed at the reptilian warrior.

“Then leave and may you find a quick death,” said the Mura Kur chieftain.

The hissing Scaleskin glared at Sevet, then slithered away, followed by a dozen Scaleskin and Fallow. Only the tawny brown Fallow remained with the rest of the Pale Men.

As Vahl stared at the enormous fountains before them, he found the irony in dying at Clearbrook. These fountains were supposed to prolong life, and soon they would run red with blood, trickling into the mountain like an open wound.

Sevet began ordering the Mura Kur as well as the other Pale Men. No one objected. 

First, they moved the wounded to the far corner of the main hall. Then, they stacked the dead against the door, flinching when a thundercrack shook the floor. Lastly, they split into four groups that would keep watch in all four directions. The tawny brown Fallow darted from passageway to passageway, listening for any signs of Immir. In the midst of all this chaos, Vahl and Ziva had been forgotten.

The brother and sister sat down at the edge of the fountain, waiting for the imminent battle.

“Do you think we have a chance?” asked Vahl.

Ziva grinned, but there was no warmth in her smile.

“No, but that doesn’t matter, does it? We’ll take as many of them as we can with us, and when our time comes, we’ll see father and mother once again.”

“I hope Osur made it with the rest,” said Vahl.

Vahl bent over to scoop the water from the fountain, then froze. He watched as the water churned around the base of the fountain, then followed it with his eyes. A small river wound its way through the center of the room, where it joined the largest fountain of all. Vahl stood up, and approached the enormous fountain that stood three times as tall as he. The water beneath this central fountain raged, but in the shimmering reflections and ripples, he could make out one very important feature, just below the base of the fountain.

“Sevet!” he called.

Ziva rushed to her brother’s side, curious what he had found.

“What is it?” Ziva asked.

Again, Vahl called for the Mura Kur chieftain. This time, Sevet responded.

“Come! Quickly!”

Sevet approached with half a dozen Pale Men, demanding to know what was so important.

“These fountains. Something is pumping the water up here, but something else is draining it as well. Look!”

Vahl pointed to a large opening, roughly the size of a large shield beneath the central fountain.

“Godsbreath,” cursed Ziva.

“We can use it to escape,” said Vahl.

Sevet nodded. “Get the wounded.”

The other Pale Men started moving the wounded, but the tawny brown Fallow came rushing over before they reached the fountain.

“Immir! They’re close!”

Time had run out.

Without a moment’s delay, Vahl and Ziva followed Sevet into one of the main passageways as the Fallow continued patrolling the other passageways. Their duty was to buy enough time for the wounded to escape.

As they rounded a corner, the sounds of battle became unmistakable. A dozen Pale Men had already engaged the Immir, battling in the windy corridors of Clearbrook. In these cramped conditions, the Immir had to resort to crawling on all fours. Even still, they were a formidable foe with razor sharp claws and a beak that could break bone. Nevertheless, the Pale Man had the advantage, and with only a dozen, they were able to keep the winged pests at bay.

Unlike her more cautious brother, Ziva leaped into the fray, her new sword finding plenty of victims. Her speed was unmatched and her attacks were beyond precise. At half the size of an Immir, Ziva moved between the gangly beasts, like a leaf upon a stream. The Immir started to retreat, and Vahl joined the Pale Men as they routed them  and utterly decimated them. By the end, they had killed forty Immir without losing a single Pale Man.

Ziva wiped blood from her brow as Sevet checked with the other men.

“You fought like a man possessed,” said Vahl.

“And you barely fought at all,” she replied with a chuckle.

Sevet clapped Ziva on her shoulder.

“Well done, but this is only the first battle of many, so save some for the rest of us.”

With their first battle won, the Pale Men rejoined their comrades in the main hall. Vahl half-expected to find another battle being waged in here, but the room was conspicuously calm. The only activity was the tawny brown Fallow as he scurried across the main hall, scouting for any signs of the Immir. The constant rumbling of thunder had faded, replaced by the five gushing fountains.

Something was amiss.

Sevet called over one of the Mura Kur to report.

“There’s been no new signs of Immir, and the thunder stopped a few moments ago. The wounded have escaped. Apparently, the fountain leads to a grotto far below the main hall.”

“Well, let’s use this time wisely then. Start moving the rest of the Pale Men. The Mura Kur will be the last to leave.”

The other Pale Men started to gather around the central fountain, slipping below the surface, and sliding their way to the grotto below. By now, only a few dozen were left.

The tawny brown Fallow rushed over, wheezing and coughing.

“Any sign of the Immir?” asked Sevet.

The Fallow shook their head.

“No sign. No sounds.”

Vahl’s misgivings only grew. What happened to the Stormborn?

“Maybe the Mura Pai put up a fight,” said Ziva. “Maybe they led them away so we could escape.”

A sudden tremor knocked them all to their knees. This was no earthquake. It was too sudden and too short.

Again, the tremor shook the entire main hall. Two huge indentations formed in the main doors. Something was breaking in.

“The Stormborn,” muttered Sevet.

A third tremor shook some of the ceiling loose and chunks of stones began crashing to the ground.

“Get the rest to safety,” said Sevet, pushing Vahl and Ziva. “Now!”

With a single cry, Sevet called the Mura Kur to his side. 

Vahl didn’t have time to argue. The doors had bent inwards. The Stormborn would be here any moment.

Ziva helped the last of the Pale Men escape and disappeared under the surface. As Vahl took one last look at the Mura Kur, the doors burst open, allowing a horde of Immir to flood the room. A quick flash of light practically blinded Vahl, but he could make out an enormous hammer as it swung toward the Mura Kur.

Darkness enfolded Mura Pai Vahl as he descended further into the keep’s belly.