The Ancient Ruins stood before Ezekiel like a mountain in front of an ant. The enormous stone double doors were invaded by foliage and hidden by shade. And had the morning sun in the east not shone across the forest, he might not have noticed the Ruins at all. The doors were twice his height and cracked in the center, the right door rested at a tense slant, threatening to collapse at any moment. They were heavy and didn’t budge when Ezekiel pushed them, but the opening between them was wide enough for him to slip inside. He had pictured the interior to be dark and lifeless, but in reality it was the exact opposite. The rumble of a river in the valley on the other side of the Ruins echoed inside its halls, and Ezekiel could hear the sloshing of water farther inside the cave. Save for the moss covered walls and crystal growths, the Ruins were almost untouched. The marble floors were still smooth and shiny and clattered underfoot. His steps were loud and reverberated the farther he wandered inside.
Aside from the ambiance of the environment and the cave, the cavern was silent. Ezekiel felt a strong magical force attached to this place as well, and wondered what was still locked away deep within. Although he felt alone for the most part, he walked with the Earthslayer in his hand, swinging it the way a child would with a key chain. He walked with a hum, waiting for something to happen. Needless to say, he had no idea how to navigate the labyrinth, there were no footprints, no residue on the walls from use of magic, and no creatures to follow towards something more interesting. As of now, he was searching for that sloshing at the bottom of the tunnel, denoting an underground river ahead. Should he encounter the hunter himself, the water would give him an advantage in battle. But, one issue presented itself; the dark. As he wandered farther down into the ruins, the less natural light there was within the cavern.
He quietly sang to himself through each pitch black corner, almost running to the next sign of light. There were seemingly endless sections of lightless mud and hard tree roots, only illuminated by a distant torch. Ezekiel’s breath hitched as he entered the darkness, feeling it seize his ankles and wrap its hands around his throat. The pitch black corridor heightened his anxiety, and he searched for the lantern he kept in his bag, striking it and lighting it. A small flame glowed and formed a bubble of light around him, allowing him to see his reflection in a puddle underfoot. He wiped the nervous sweat and tears from his forehead, holding the lantern tight in his hand. Up ahead, he could see a massive cracked archway and he could hear the source of the sloshing. He climbed up the stone staircase leading up to the arch and found a ledge overlooking a coursing green river. There might have been a bridge here some time in the past, denoted by the shattered pillars and collapsed columns down below, but nothing left to cross the chasm. The river was not too far below, about a half mile, but too far to safely jump down. Ezekiel crouched and stared at the water below, then at the matching archway across from him. The water wasn’t too far for him to control; he could feel the magic pull in the currents, and figured he could use it to his advantage.
“Come guess me this riddle, what beats pipe and fiddle?” he began to sing, and called the water to overflow from its banks, raising it up to his fingertips. He paused, humming to maintain his control over the water. “What’s hotter than mustard and milder than cream? What best wets your whistle, what’s clearer than crystal?” The water began to follow the shape of the old bridge, and soon a green platform constructed of water stood between the two ledges.
“...what’s sweeter than honey and stronger than steam?” Ezekiel shot around, noticing another voice joining him. He lost focus for a second, and the water slightly lost shape, but he continued humming and reshaped it into a bridge. “It’s quite rare to find others that know such sweet music, isn’t it?” Another man stared him down, with glistening gemstone patches on his jacket. Ezekiel backed away onto his bridge, maintaining his focus despite the greeting. This man wasn’t Harper Goldenshine, the mage he was searching for, but he had a threatening demeanor nonetheless. Ezekiel nodded his head in reply, and wielded the Earthslayer in his hand. He was aware that other people might be treasure hunting here as well, but he didn’t think he would meet another hunter so soon. “You know, you and I might be able to help each other out. You’re searching for Goldenshine, and I’m searching for the treasure. And it seems this bridge takes all your focus, am I correct?” Ezekiel nodded his head, backtracking towards the other end of his bridge. “Well, why don’t I help you out with that?” He said, and slapped the surface of the water with his palm.
Ezekiel raised his hands in defense and held his breath. His water was taken over by crystal spires. Stalactites of blue and green spiraled towards him, but Ezekiel was quick with a blade and deflected the incoming blast. A stray piece of shrapnel scraped his cheek, and when he tried to move, he found his feet bound to the crystal, now slowly creeping up his legs. His foe was somewhere beyond the thick mist of crystal dust, and he could hear clattering atop the crystalline bridge. He saw the silhouette above him and heard a shrill whistle in the air, and soon found his sleeves pinned to the bridge. “Breathas!” he grunted, and the glassy tendrils uprooted him from his position and twirled to his command. The other archway wasn’t far now, and he gripped onto the edge with an elongated tendril, heaving himself up and releasing his control over the water below. The still flowing parts of the bridge rained down into the basin below, leaving only a partially standing crystal bridge and the smell of salt in the air. Ezekiel found his ankles and wrists caked in a salty, crystalline substance and his best to scrape it off on the walls and ground. Wherever that rogue treasure hunter was, Ezekiel could no longer sense his presence. He punched the wall out of frustration and let the ripped calluses on his knuckles bleed as he carried on. “Ow…” he grunted, and healed the wound when his hand began to throb.
[1122]
Aside from the ambiance of the environment and the cave, the cavern was silent. Ezekiel felt a strong magical force attached to this place as well, and wondered what was still locked away deep within. Although he felt alone for the most part, he walked with the Earthslayer in his hand, swinging it the way a child would with a key chain. He walked with a hum, waiting for something to happen. Needless to say, he had no idea how to navigate the labyrinth, there were no footprints, no residue on the walls from use of magic, and no creatures to follow towards something more interesting. As of now, he was searching for that sloshing at the bottom of the tunnel, denoting an underground river ahead. Should he encounter the hunter himself, the water would give him an advantage in battle. But, one issue presented itself; the dark. As he wandered farther down into the ruins, the less natural light there was within the cavern.
He quietly sang to himself through each pitch black corner, almost running to the next sign of light. There were seemingly endless sections of lightless mud and hard tree roots, only illuminated by a distant torch. Ezekiel’s breath hitched as he entered the darkness, feeling it seize his ankles and wrap its hands around his throat. The pitch black corridor heightened his anxiety, and he searched for the lantern he kept in his bag, striking it and lighting it. A small flame glowed and formed a bubble of light around him, allowing him to see his reflection in a puddle underfoot. He wiped the nervous sweat and tears from his forehead, holding the lantern tight in his hand. Up ahead, he could see a massive cracked archway and he could hear the source of the sloshing. He climbed up the stone staircase leading up to the arch and found a ledge overlooking a coursing green river. There might have been a bridge here some time in the past, denoted by the shattered pillars and collapsed columns down below, but nothing left to cross the chasm. The river was not too far below, about a half mile, but too far to safely jump down. Ezekiel crouched and stared at the water below, then at the matching archway across from him. The water wasn’t too far for him to control; he could feel the magic pull in the currents, and figured he could use it to his advantage.
“Come guess me this riddle, what beats pipe and fiddle?” he began to sing, and called the water to overflow from its banks, raising it up to his fingertips. He paused, humming to maintain his control over the water. “What’s hotter than mustard and milder than cream? What best wets your whistle, what’s clearer than crystal?” The water began to follow the shape of the old bridge, and soon a green platform constructed of water stood between the two ledges.
“...what’s sweeter than honey and stronger than steam?” Ezekiel shot around, noticing another voice joining him. He lost focus for a second, and the water slightly lost shape, but he continued humming and reshaped it into a bridge. “It’s quite rare to find others that know such sweet music, isn’t it?” Another man stared him down, with glistening gemstone patches on his jacket. Ezekiel backed away onto his bridge, maintaining his focus despite the greeting. This man wasn’t Harper Goldenshine, the mage he was searching for, but he had a threatening demeanor nonetheless. Ezekiel nodded his head in reply, and wielded the Earthslayer in his hand. He was aware that other people might be treasure hunting here as well, but he didn’t think he would meet another hunter so soon. “You know, you and I might be able to help each other out. You’re searching for Goldenshine, and I’m searching for the treasure. And it seems this bridge takes all your focus, am I correct?” Ezekiel nodded his head, backtracking towards the other end of his bridge. “Well, why don’t I help you out with that?” He said, and slapped the surface of the water with his palm.
Ezekiel raised his hands in defense and held his breath. His water was taken over by crystal spires. Stalactites of blue and green spiraled towards him, but Ezekiel was quick with a blade and deflected the incoming blast. A stray piece of shrapnel scraped his cheek, and when he tried to move, he found his feet bound to the crystal, now slowly creeping up his legs. His foe was somewhere beyond the thick mist of crystal dust, and he could hear clattering atop the crystalline bridge. He saw the silhouette above him and heard a shrill whistle in the air, and soon found his sleeves pinned to the bridge. “Breathas!” he grunted, and the glassy tendrils uprooted him from his position and twirled to his command. The other archway wasn’t far now, and he gripped onto the edge with an elongated tendril, heaving himself up and releasing his control over the water below. The still flowing parts of the bridge rained down into the basin below, leaving only a partially standing crystal bridge and the smell of salt in the air. Ezekiel found his ankles and wrists caked in a salty, crystalline substance and his best to scrape it off on the walls and ground. Wherever that rogue treasure hunter was, Ezekiel could no longer sense his presence. He punched the wall out of frustration and let the ripped calluses on his knuckles bleed as he carried on. “Ow…” he grunted, and healed the wound when his hand began to throb.
[1122]
