Chapter 10

Donovan found himself inside of a large, dark cavern. He expected to find just a small space behind the wall of rock, but this was unanticipated. He seemed to be standing in a stone tunnel that was apparently manmade.

The distinct structure he now stood in looked as if it had been hand chiseled directly into the great mountain's granite center. Looking around he found that the path was easily wide enough to accommodate a large horse-drawn wagon should the need arise. The ceiling above appeared twice as tall as the path was wide.

He turned around to see that the crude tunnel he had dug led through an old collapsed archway. It presumably was part of an ancient doorway of some kind. Large keystones from the top of the archway lay broken upon the ground below.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings further. The air within the cave was moist and warm. He found that his boots had sunk slightly into the fine muddy silt that he had fallen into prior. Thin layers of mud filled portions of the tunnel's floor, and the surfaces were free from any type of visible tracks as well. The most peculiar thing about his new location however was that at the end of the long tunnel, a faint light glowed.

He began to trudge through the thin mud, slipping occasionally as he made his way into the structure. As he traveled deeper and deeper down the path, distinct architecture could be seen within the cavern walls. Large stone pillars, cut from the same rock as the walls, held up portions of the tunnel. Occasionally he would spot intricately carved designs cut directly into the granite. The chiseled patterns and shapes looked familiar, but also odd; usually depicting strangely built human figures. He also found that every few paces another extinguished wooden torch could be seen hanging the walls. He decided to gather one of the torches for later use.

The brightness of the distant light continued to grow as he moved forward. He proceeded on the path, determined to explore this new wondrous place. Whoever had created this structure obviously did it with some kind of purpose in mind. The creators must have spent year upon year carving the great tunnel during in its construction.

He was also fairly certain that no one had visited the cavern for many years. As he approached the area with the most light, he came across at least one of the cave's possible occupants.

Sitting in a tall wooden chair behind a cluttered desk was the decayed corpse of a man in his robes. The person was long since dead; only his skeleton and a very thin layer of dry rotted skin covered his bones. Donovan had seen a dead body before, but never one that had been left to rot for this long. As was law, most bodies were burned within a day's time. This mummified carcass with its leathery skin had been left behind, and it was a strange view for the young warrior.

Piercing through the dead man's entire body was a long golden spear easily twice his height. The apparent implement of his death ran through the body's entire frame: from the man's right shoulder, through the center of a dry shriveled heart, and into the floor beneath his feet. Several broken ribs from the man's skeleton littered the floor.

The tip of the weapon had been deeply embedded within the granite surface below. Large webbed cracks, easily inches deep, spread out from the site of the impact. Donovan wondered what could have had the strength to force the golden weapon so hard into the ground.

Donovan looked upwards and noticed an opening leading up through the ceiling above him. The hole was sizeable; enough for a large rodent to crawl through but not wide enough for a man to traverse. A beam of sunlight was cast down via the passage. A single twisted root from the world above hung down from the opening like a thin rope.

He could see the single ray from the sun peering through the hole, but he could not see the sky above. "I can see the light from the surface, but why cannot I see the sky above? Just how long and narrow is this passage? And what possibly could have created it?"

Donovan carefully studied the opening and compared it to the impaled man to his right. If the warrior didn't know any better, he could swear that the hole above lined up perfectly with the trajectory of the embedded golden spear.

Returning to the dead man's desk, he found a pair of flint stones. By clapping them together he was able to reignite his wooden torch with just a few sparks. Now with the assistance of a new light source, Donovan pressed on through the darker end of the tunnel.

As he continued to walk, the structure became more and more like a planned building and less like a converted cave. Stone bricks began to make up the walls around him, and the floor was no longer muddy. Instead of basic wooden torches, massive candleholders were attached along the walls. The wax from large ancient candles had long since drizzled to the floor, and their wicks were nothing more than ash. Spider webs occupied most corners and crevices, and a thick layer of dust covered the tops of every flat surface.

He also found that the cave consisted of a series of tunnels and passageways, rather than just one single path. A multitude of tunnels seemed to lead in every direction. Whatever this structure was, it was much larger than anything Donovan had ever expected to find.

In addition he didn't quite know what else he might encounter along his search. He didn't know whether something, or someone, would be discovered lurking in the shadows. He didn't have any weapon upon him other than his fists, and the warrior had yet to find anything suitable along his underworld journey. He felt defenseless, and did not look forward any possible surprises that might exist within the ancient cavern.

He began to pass several large rooms on his exploration.

One such room appeared to be a grand library. Enormously tall bookshelves with hundreds of moldy books could be seen cluttering a giant room. There were several tall wheeled ladders that had at one time been used to gather materials from the upper shelves. A multitude of wooden writing desks could be found bordering the walls of the room. Upon the stone floor were many torn books bereft of their pages, and several of the tall bookcases had been knocked over and destroyed.

He also came across what looked to be a large kitchen area. The roof in this chamber was quite short, with just some basic cauldrons and cooking fires lining the walls. Three thick wooden tables and their aged countertops were located in the center of the space. Large cuts could be seen within the cherry wood; probably due to a combination of smaller nicks, moisture in the air, and plenty of time. Another wooden table appeared to be nothing by ash and broken timbers. There appeared to be no chimneys anywhere in the room and so the ceiling was discolored with dark black smears. Stains of soot climbed the walls around each of the fires. The room felt as if it was closing in on the young man, and he decided to move along.

Several doors led out of the kitchen, one of them leading into a great pantry. The pantry appeared to still be well stocked, albeit covered with a heavy layer of dust. Bags of flour, jars of preserves, and barrels of spring water could all be found within the room. Just from a quick inspection, it appeared that some of the goods might still be partially salvageable. Of course, not everything had stood the test of time and many of the crates that once held produce now held nothing but dried rinds and dust.

An hour into his exploration he came to a junction on his chosen path. He took the left fork and shortly came across what looked to be barracks. Around thirty bunks, stacked three beds high, spanned these old living quarters. The beds were made from straw and had been covered by white linens at one time. More destruction could be found here as a majority of the bunks were nothing but splinters and shards of wood. Torn sheets and clumps of straw also littered the floor. In addition, it looked as though long ago part of the rock ceiling had collapsed on the far side of the room.

On his journey through the great halls, a familiar white object appeared within his torch's light. In front of him floating along the floor was a similar wisp from the forest, most likely the same one. It appeared to be going from cobweb to cobweb looking for something.

He finally saw it come across a single long-legged spider hanging onto a large web. The wisp quickly floated to the spider web and wriggled in the air above it. By gently pulling the silk towards its center, the magical object appeared to absorb the web along with the spider. The white ball grew ever so slightly when it gathered the insect. Seconds later after its "meal", it had compressed back into its original size. It continued to search from web to web looking for more small bugs.

Donovan found more distinct rooms as he continued through the structure. Most of the spaces he would come across were in disarray. Many had their contents in shambles, and some of them had portions of their ceilings caved in.

He still hadn't come across an armory or weapon store of any kind. He found this odd. "Why would someone build this structure and not adequately defend it?" he asked himself. "Why are there no weapons to be found?"

"If there are truly no weapons, and there are no apparent living occupants, then was this grand complex abandoned some time in the past? If so… why?" He continued to ponder these thoughts on his walk, knowing that he had yet to see even a fraction of the great caverns.

As he made his way deeper on his exploration, he began to smell a slightly sweet scent on the air. Most of the tunnels reeked of mold, dust, and decay; and this was a much different scent than what he had yet to come across. As he turned a corner, he glanced at a body of water easily the size of a large pond. A great stone pit had apparently been flooded to make this small lake before him. Floating upon the motionless water sat hundreds of faintly glowing plants.

"Ifriit!"

Donovan's heart skipped a beat. Here before him were at least a hundred blooming Ifriit plants. A multitude of seeds glistened in his torch's light.

The warrior never had the privilege to see either of Gestalt's precious plants with his own eyes. Instead he had to settle for reading about them in the church library. The warrior had learned that the Ifriit plant grew upon the surface of the water just like a lily. Here they were; an entire pond full all lying before him.

Skimming across the water amongst the numerous plants were a multitude of tiny water skippers. The young man could see long legged insects gliding from plant to plant on the surface of the water, and apparently the little bugs were the pollination agents for these Ifriit. Beneath the water, thousands of rotten seeds lay covering the pond's bottom. Many a year had gone by without the precious seeds being harvested.

His mind went immediately to his giant scar, and the sensitivity of the stitched wound was instantly heightened. He could feel the threads pulling at his face, and could feel the scar itching terribly. "The Ifriit… it can heal my wound… and restore my eyesight!"

After removing both gauntlets, the young man raced to the edge of the pond and hastily plucked a ripe seed from one of the foremost Ifriit. The seed seemed to pulse in his fingers and felt perceptibly hot to the touch. The surface was eerily smooth, and the contents glowed with a radiant red light. His fingers began to tremble from the new possession. Tears began to pool within his right eye. He fell to his knees, staring at the glorious object within his right hand.

"This gift from God, and the Heavens will cure me! I will be whole again!"

He opened his quivering mouth and placed the seed inside. His jaw clamped down and juices began to flow over his tongue. The liquid burned, but it was also incredibly sweet. The corners of his eyes began to squint from the sensation. The warrior swallowed the wondrous seed.

A rush of heat ran over him. His spine felt as if each of its vertebrae had caught on fire. Massive pressure overtook his skull and it felt like it might explode. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to spasm on the ground.

The giant wound that ran down his front began to glow a bright red, with the affected skin appearing translucent. Smoke began to rise from each of the crossed stitches. Much like fireworks, one by one the threads snapped and fell from his face onto the ground. The needle holes that had been used to hold the stitches in place were sealed up completely. The deep wound that ran down his face continued to glow red; with the brightest emanation coming from his left eye. His armored form retched violently upon the wet ground for several moments. His body then rested.

When he came to, he felt terribly disorientated. Calmness had come over his entire body and his muscles felt relaxed. He was unused to the sensation and it almost felt as if he were asleep or dead. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy and he was unable to open either of them.

Using his right hand, he began to trace his neck. The stitches that had initially held his great lesion closed were no longer present. Instead, a large sealed scar had replaced the mended wound. He traced down his chest and found those stitches missing as well.

He tried to open both of his eyes. They were initially unwilling to respond to his requests, but after a few attempts the vision of his right eye returned. With his right vision restored, his attempts to open his left eye continued.

Slightly puzzled in his inability to open the left, he placed his right hand over his uncooperative eye. Where there had once been stitches, now a large smooth scar similar to the rest of the wound remained. The entire surface of the eye including the eyelids had been sealed shut. He could also not feel the existence of an eye beneath the skin.

The warrior let out a great echoing roar that filled the chamber. Anger and frustration fell over his body much like the heat of the Ifriit. At the top of his lungs he yelled into the air above the room.

"Is this your great gift!?! Am I 'healed'?" His arms were outstretched into the air; pleading to the holy beings above. "Is this the end result of your almighty power!?!"

"Answer me!" he yelled with his raspy voice. Veins within his neck tensed, his single eye bulged. The anger within him was growing.

"Why have you forsaken me? What did I do to deserve all of this? Why have I been forsaken!?!"

The young man walked up to a nearby wall. Without the benefit of his gauntlet, he slammed his unarmored right fist into the solid granite surface. Flecks of stone and dirt fell from the wall. Streaks of blood began to appear on the front of his fist. He didn't cry in pain.

The warrior, obviously upset, turned around and left the giant room containing the great gifts from Heaven.

Continue to Chapter 10 - continued