“So, it seems like we’ve got a bit of a choice,” Felazo says as the small group stands beside the strange metallic and stone building. From the appearance up close, he can tell that the building is, in fact, old. Likely even older than the tomb he’s truly looking for. That said, in spite of taking the time to examine the craftsmanship while Den and Sari were hiding the raft, he couldn’t recognize the origin of the building. More concerning, it does not resemble any cultural touchstones of his years of study. It’s almost wrong, like an interior wall of some kind of underground structure pulled up to the surface. But that can’t be right. What would pull something like that up? And the only culture groups he’s encountered who build underground structures this elaborate are the Noble Nation holds, and this does not look like their architecture. In fact, it likely predates their arrival in the Vyrroltea by some time. Not that it would make sense for it to. Unless there is some civilization or culture group not discussed in the chronicles. One that did not survive the fracturing?
“What choice be that?” asks Ren, also staring at the risen building.
Felazo gestures towards the structure. “I have no idea what this is, which is somewhat frightening, though admittedly also intrigues me a bit. We could push forwards to the tomb, which I know has many things that we all might find useful or valuable. Or, we can try to find a way into this structure of metal and stone, which has no precedence both for being here and for being constructed as such. Could be interesting discoveries and treasures inside, or it could be empty and merely a building for the scholars to marvel over once we sell its location to some at our next stop.”
“Or it could be deadly,” Denlo adds, eyes on alert and scanning the treeline in the swampy shore.
Felazo shakes his head. “Most buildings aren’t. Outside of tombs, prisons, and vaults, remember, people build things to be accessed regularly by at least some people. Alarms might be there, sure, but alarms are rarely meant to kill the intruders directly or swiftly.”
“Rarely is not never,” Denlo replies.
Renalt smiles wide, “True enough, dear Den, though rarely deadly would be less likely than most circumstances we might encounter.”
Alessari chimes in as well. “Especially considering our other option is a combination tomb and vault, which are both buildings not meant to be accessed.”
“More importantly, Felazo already told us that our intended destination is deadly,” Hilan says.
“Not that deadly,” Felazo insists, though he only partly believes it, “Considering we do know what it is.”
“We know it’s ghosts and dead things at least,” Denlo replies, “I vote for known danger.”
Renalt shakes his head. “I must disagree with my deathly companion. The unknown be where all the best tales lie.”
Felazo smiles. “I say we do both, but I don’t really care which we delve into first.”
Sister Hilan thinks about it for a moment. “I believe we should put the spirits to rest,” she begins, “But if we intend to do both, perhaps it would be wise to start with the less certain to be deadly option?”
“And go from there? Seems reasonable,” Sari says, nodding.
Felazo smiles. “Excellent, now, to find a door.” He turns to the building’s edifice and begins tracing the lines upon it.
“You spent the last seven or so minutes examining it and you guys didn’t find a door?” Denlo asks, “Have you considered the obvious possibility?”
Felazo continues tracing the lines. Without looking back towards Denlo, he asks, “Which possibility might that be?”
“The building seems to have just come up out of the swamp floor. What if the entrance is still down there, under the mud?”
Renalt shakes his head. “‘Tis a possibility, to be certain, but an unlikely one at that. Not merely because it would make for a lesser song, but indeed think practically. The amount of weight in these walls, and in the roofing, if it were any more than a few stories tall above the earth, ‘twould indeed be too top heavy. With the land being swamp, a top heavy building would have settled unevenly over the years, and therefore ‘twould have sunk with a lean to it, no? And seeing as it’s close to two floors above the earth already.”
Denlo nods. “I suppose that makes some sense,” he admits.
Alessari, ignoring the bickering pair, begins to examine the wall herself, holding her hand close to it and moving from place to place, trying to feel for some kind of breeze or airflow from the wall. Hilan, for her part, begins tapping at the smooth places along the wall, trying to listen for any differentiation between the sounds made. Renalt joins in to help her with his finely honed ear for tonality. Felazo continues tracing his hand along the ridges and lines, feeling for any sort of abnormality that might be helpful in opening the building up. Denlo stands back, taking the scene in. He closes his eyes and thinks, focusing on everything else, ignoring his compatriots and their search. Trying to reach out, to listen for danger. But he doesn’t hear any. He doesn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. He calls out to Ren, beginning to put things together. “Why now? What’s different now than before?”
Ren doesn’t answer. Felazo does, however. “The great divergence. It just started within the last decade,” he says, growing more excited the more he speaks, “This building, or at least some material element of it, must be reacting to the heightening in contrast between the magics. Its construction might be tied to some kind of innate mysticality.” Felazo forms an odd sigil with the fingers on his left hand, and thrusts it towards the building. Wind rushes loudly from the hand into the wall, which begins to hum.
Hilan’s eyes grow wide, as she realizes it. “If the divergence is what is causing the disruption of its norm, perhaps its normal way of operating is in some kind of convergence.” She raises her hand above her and says, “Flame, show us the way.” Light emanates out from her, illuminating the humming wall.
“A full convergence, perhaps,” Renalt adds, and with a snap, says, “We shall do so with ease.”
“If that’s how we’re playing this,” mutters Alessari grumpily as she reaches out and touches the wall. Closing her eyes, she begins muttering something and the swamp itself reaches out to grab at the building.
Denlo looks at the now visibly vibrating building. And he can see it. A door. It’s in an area the others already passed over, because it wasn’t there before the building began vibrating. Walking over, he pushes against the stone, hard. And slowly, the wall moves back, revealing the entry hall of a building. Faint lights illuminate the walls, but they quickly dim to barely lit as the humming of the building begins to fade in intensity.
“Well, that worked,” Felazo states with an eager grin as he walks into the now open room.
“Hopefully we will not have to do that too often,” Sister Hilan admits as she enters, still glowing and now the best light source in the area.
Renalt smiles at Denlo, his smile genuine now rather than his normal cordial one. “I believe I did say the entrance would be above the earth.”
“You did,” Den admits, then gestures towards the ground by the door, “Though not entirely,” he adds. There is a small drop, maybe three or four fingers deep, between the swamp mud that surrounds the building and the floor of the building beneath.”
“Fair enough,” Ren says with a chuckle, before hopping down into the hole.
Sari looks over at Den. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“No,” Den replies.
Sari walks up to the killer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but we will make it through,” she tells him.
Denlo looks up at her. “I don’t know magic. I don’t know much, in fact. But I know this, that door needed four spellcasters working together to open it. You really still think it’ll be the safer option?”
Alessari chuckles. “No, probably not,” she admits, “Though if they’re right, it might’ve just needed two to open back in the days when it was created.”
Denlo sighs, “Because that makes me feel so much safer,” he says, then begins muttering to himself, “Going into a ruin from before time existed, yeah, sounds super safe and good. Right on.” The pair slowly enter the building together.
Inside already, Felazo examines the walls, illuminated by their glowing compatriot. “I just had a terrifying thought,” he says with a still eager smile plastered on his face.
“What?” asks the glowing sister, genuinely curious.
“So, don’t ask for details, but I’ve been to a pre-fracture ruin before. These murals, they don’t resemble the style at all. Now, based on the Chronicle’s records, this and the ruins I visited once should have been fairly close to one another physically, right? So their styles should be similar at least. But they’re not. Which says they probably aren’t from the same time period. And since the other one was known to have been built shortly before the fracturing, I think we may be dealing with something truly ancient.”
“Well, yeah,” Alessari says as the quieter pair approaches. “You already said it was from before the fracturing.”
“But this entry area, it doesn’t look like a waiting hall or reception or anything like that. Its decor is more like a foyer. I think this is a personal home.”
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Sister Hilan replies, “To access the door, you would still need a mage and a practitioner, right? Unless it is specifically designed for a couple who always traveled together, it wouldn’t make sense for that kind of security measure to be in a personal home.”
Felazo turns to look at the rest of his crew, the glow emanating from the sister illuminating his face such that his eager grin almost seems sinister. “Unless it does. There’s this theory, one that’s unproven but I’ve seen referenced in some old books. And if I’m right and we find any proof that I’m right in this house, that this place can prove that theory to be more fact than theory.”
“Elaborate,” Denlo states, his eyes not looking at him but instead past the necromancer and down the hall. Towards whatever potential threats might lurk further in.
“That this wasn’t the first great divergence. That once, long long ago, there was only one magic. It wasn’t believers and practitioners, it was just the mystics. All were one, because all magic was one.” Suddenly, everyone understood why Felazo had been grinning so wide all this time. If he is right about this building, this may well be one of the most important discoveries in the history of the modern world.
Renalt can’t help but chuckle. “If you are truly found true, indeed it will make for a fascinating find.”
Denlo looks towards his crewmates. “If you’re right, this was home to some mage, correct?”
“A mystic, but yes,” Felazo answers.
“Good. Mages have valuable shit that lasts, and stays valuable, for a long time.”
Alessari shakes her head, still in the shadows, “They also have security systems that can last just as long. Eyes up.”
Slowly the group begins to move down the hall, deeper into the building. Denlo takes the lead, keeping an eye out for trouble and traps. Felazo falls in right behind him, looking at the walls and dimly glowing sconces. Behind him, Hilan walks, still glowing to provide light for the group, then Renalt and Sari take the rear. Suddenly, the tile shifts under Felazo’s foot. There’s a click. And behind them all, the wall begins to shift open and a blue light glows threateningly from within. A series of sounds, likely a sentence in some language none of them understand, emanates from the opening. And out of it walks a creature. No, a massive suit of armor that seems to glow from within. Once again, the sounds emanate out from it. Felazo notes that it is the same sounds. So a language of some kind. Likely some sort of request for a passphrase. Denlo readies his sword, sliding it from the cloth that usually covers it. Alessari’s hands fall to her blades, though she doesn’t yet draw them. There is a pause, as the crew waits to see what the armor does. Then, the armor lets out a horrifying shriek.
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