Remedy

Chapter One The Treasure HunterDawn approached, not caring for those who would be bound by its spell. Most would celebrate the first glimmer of light as it cast hope upon a new day, others would mourn the losses of the night; and then there was Rob. For him the encroaching dawn was like the sand of an hourglass, trickling away precious seconds. Where he stood when the final grain fell, and light touched the unseen horizon, would decide his fate. Life or death. Victory or defeat. Time was of the essence, and too much had slipped away since he had first entered this domain. Even now he found himself being driven deeper into the twisting labyrinth, rather than seeking an escape. But still, he had to hold on to the belief that a portal was within reach. He would not survive being sealed within The Depths of Acheron. The pressure of every passing second bore down on him with crushing force, adding to the fatigued burning that spread throughout his exhausted legs. His lungs screamed for air as he ignored his body's desperate cries for rest. How could it ask that of him when to stop would be to die? Those things, the ones living within the tunnels, were close behind. The scraping of their dull claws on the stone surface echoed through the warrens. But there was light ahead, an opening. He could but pray he would find himself somewhere familiar. His momentum should have sent him plummeting to his death. It was only by sheer luck the ore lining the ledge's edge had caught the flickering light from his torch. But it had left very little time to react. His feet skidded, giving those precious few seconds required to turn and grasp at the stone ledge as he fell. His knuckles turned white under the exertion. Digging his feet into the wall his gaze turned downward, tracing the path of his torch as it spiralled through the air to leave a glowing trail of smoke and cinders. Despite the countless journeys to this domain, and the horrors witnessed, he was somehow unable to accept this scene. Below stood the abandoned ruins of a stone city, larger than anything he had before encountered. The creatures hissed and snarled from within their darkened shelter, yet did not continue to pursue him. They remained within their territory as if they were fearful to trespass further. Below, the city's spired buildings and domed roofs stood tall, draped in moss and vines causing the once pale stonework to grow dark with age. The area seemed undisturbed in what, he hoped, was an indication of its long-standing abandonment. Straining his ears he listened for sounds of life, for evidence of things dwelling below. The silence was unnerving. Either this city had been deserted as its first impression implied, or something silent prowled the ruined and darkened streets. Even at their greatest the craftsmen of his own domain could not construct such beauty. The stonework shimmered with metal, yet woven within, like mortar or binding, vines and roots burrowed. They secured large blocks together in such a manner that deliberate construction was the only plausible answer. The city had been crafted in natural balance. Its design sung of an affinity between magic and man. The people who had once dwelt within the walls, those who could combine opposing forces and marry them in grand displays of harmony, possessed a talent that would leave wielders of the arcane in awe. Rob wondered what had become of these grand architects; it was unclear if they had been driven from their homes or simply been seduced by the bestial nature of all within this domain. Had they cast aside the final shreds of their humanity, leaving their structures to become one with the darkness? This city had been left to ruin. With its masters' absence nature had once more grown dominant, slowly reclaiming parts of the land. The weight of heavy vines and fungi causing stone to collapse and metal to rust. The city was growing, yet at the same time was plagued with decay. Narrowing his eyes Rob studied the rooftops. Dark smears revealed silver shimmers of reflected light, some scattered with stripped bones suggesting his concerns about the silence were founded. A nest, perhaps, but certainly a hunting ground of some description. But to what he couldn't be certain. There were no clear marks to allow him to formulate an educated guess. Rob swallowed, recalling his pursuers' reaction to this area. He suppressed a shudder, trying to imagine the predators of those from within the tunnels. Those creatures had evolved into carnivores, everything about them had indicated dominance. Yet it seemed there was something here even they had cause to fear. Distant sounds echoed through the darkness causing him to turn his focus upwards. Bioluminescent fungi grew in crevices and hollows found within the sheer cliffs, crudely and poorly casting light and shadows. The minimal lighting revealed only towering walls of darkness where the large glowing spores became pinpricks of light, like stars on a clear night, stretching up into an expanse he could not even begin to fathom. He tried to relax, telling himself the gruelling chorus of shrieks coasting on the almost undetectable breeze were far away, carried to his alert senses by the echoes they rode upon. But the tightness spreading across his chest, and the prickling of the hairs at the nape of his neck, warned him his instincts believed otherwise. For the briefest moment the area seemed darker, like a cloud had covered the sun; but here there were no clouds, no sun, no sky, at least none that he had seen. His grip trembled, his body flinched in response to a strange, eerie cry. The natural flickering light from above was masked by a shadow almost as haunting as the noise which now filled the air. Of all the sounds within the world he could attribute this to none. The shriek contained an almost bestial roar within its guttural depths, as if more than one creature cried from the throat of the being. Pinpoints of light continued to fade as more complex and ear-piercing screeches echoed their response. Rob felt his tense limbs spring into action, carrying him down towards the rooftops below. There, he could at least seek shelter. With every downward step his chest and stomach grew tighter. His heart pounded with a deafening roar, one almost loud enough to conceal the ever-nearing cries. If he had any hope of escaping he needed to be heading upward, not being forced constantly lower. If he failed to reach an exit before dawn he, like his fate, would be sealed. He would not survive the twenty-eight days it would take for the portals to once more materialise. Horrific wails reverberated, announcing that the circling creatures had seen him. Their large leathery forms swooped closer before veering away from the wall that briefly deterred them. It would not be long before they adapted their approach. He quickened his descent, his eyes burning from his refusal to blink. He could not die, not down here. Rob adjusted his position as the first of their talons fixed upon the wall, twisting its enormous frame to begin a vertical pursuit. He aligned himself with the closest rooftop and braced for impact as he pushed himself away from the stone cliff face. He would be exposed for a short time, but if he picked his route with care the shadows and spires could be used to his advantage. Louder, more excited cries, filled the air at his sudden and unexpected movement. Twisting as his body struck the roof he attempted to roll, losing traction against the coat of thick green residue which seemed to cover a smooth surface beneath. He heard the unmistakable sound of a crack before his eyes caught sight of the webbed damage spanning out from the place he had first impacted. Regaining his footing he carefully began to move, his mind warning him of the dark circling forms above. He fixed his vision to the expanding fractures. His disruption of the algae revealed nothing but darkness below and, perhaps, a slight hint of reflected light. Each shift of his weight caused the cracks to expand further. Rob looked upwards, readying his crossbow as he lifted it from the clasp on his belt. Its tether momentarily twisted around his arm as he tried to find the correct bolt. He dared not avert his eyes from the descending creatures. The walls rippled with their movement, their numbers immeasurable through the darkness, and more circled overhead. He loaded the bolt, feeling the floor physically shudder beneath his feet. Cries echoed from above and, with no salvation in sight, Rob closed his eyes launching himself upwards, using his momentum to land heavily on the fractured roof. The glass shattered beneath his feet, cascading with him down into the large open space below. He prayed, to any who would listen, that his eyes had not deceived him. The shadows of the circling creatures grew larger, their clawed talons scraping on the rooftop, scratching new paths for light to penetrate as they fumbled to find their footing before taking to the air once more. He saw the ripple of thick algae-coated water below him, the source of the slight reflection of light he had seen from above. The heavily decaying stench caused bile to rise in his throat as his form broke the stagnant surface. He fought his way through the thick fluid, gasping for breath, gagging as the odour penetrated his nostrils. All fell silent, except for the sound of Rob pulling himself from the dense and putrid waters, and onto the slate floor. His hand stirred the sleeping moss, which grew in thick and sporadic blankets, causing shimmers of light to expand outward from his location. For the briefest moment it illuminated the area as its light chased throughout the temple, extinguishing as quickly as it spread until only the area in contact with him remained aglow. Each leaf and capsule activated those within its mat, bathing the area with a gentle green light in a display of nature's own magic. His movements sent invisible spores to pass along silent communication between the capsules, ensuring the gentle blooms lit his path whichever way his feet staggered. Rob's eyes fixed on what he hoped would be an exit. He needed to get out of here. The darkness that shrouded the room bordered on the unnatural and, in this realm, darkness truly was a thing to fear. It was the flesh and blood of nightmares. Shadows played as light from above was obstructed by the still-circling hunters. The area was enormous. The tall ceilings were supported by thick columns, larger and wider than most modest dwellings he had seen. The giant cylinders, embossed with images he could not discern through the gloom, made him feel tiny, insignificant. He leaned against the nearest pillar, resting for a moment. He could see very little, but there were enough implications to suggest it could be a place of worship. The grandeur, and time such a construction would have taken, was likely only to be the result of dedication, or servitude. Rob swallowed, his eyes narrowed almost certain that the darkness had become more tangible. His rising fear was a subtle reminder of his predicament. The familiar glow of moss once more chased throughout the temple before centring on a distant point, adding a depth and length to the room he had not thought possible. The subtle illumination became overpowered by the shifting darkness, as if the shadows themselves worked in twisted unison to quell the light. But the more this spiralling mass advanced, the larger the guiding carpet became. He felt his chest tighten as the mosses' influence expanded further, quicker. Something was coming. His feet slipped in the dank fluids pooled around him as he began his retreat. Turning his back on the moss, but unable to ignore its growing luminescence, he forced his trembling legs into action. His elongated shadow began to expand before him, warning of the closing proximity, but he dared not glance behind. He knew to behold his pursuer would be to seal his fate. Fixing his sight forwards, he focused on the small ray of light he hoped marked his escape.