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Chapter 4
--
Loben ducked into the tomb entrance and gestured for Kesmet's paw. He took it in his own and guided her down the passageway. Testing blindly with her footpads, Kesmet found that steps had been cut into the stone.
“This is not a place Acolytes are usually welcome,” Loben said as they followed the steps downward. “I doubt one has been allowed entry in centuries.”
Kesmet smiled to herself wanly. “Worried about your title?”
“Hardly,” Loben snorted. “Not that there are many left to care.”
At that, Kesmet fell silent. They continued on, Loben seemingly knowing every step and turn by heart.
Eventually they came to a vast, open area deep within the tomb. Kesmet could discern an estimate of the room's size by the sounds of their echoing footsteps; it must be massive! Briefly, Loben released her paw, which had broken into a cold sweat. Her ears picked up the soft rasp of his robes, and she knew that he was casting a spell.
Blue flames sprang to life all around them. Kesmet was taken aback by what was revealed; the room itself seemed to have no end, stretching forever into darkness in all directions. Colossal pillars stood high, their surfaces covered with odd openings and hieroglyphs. The floor of the mausoleum was meticulously designed with whorls and patterns. Each attribute was connected to one or more adjacent patterns, so that the design itself was never-ending.
Loben took her paw once more and continued deeper into the burial chamber. Mouth agape, Kesmet moved forward with a childlike wonderment, staring at everything around her. She was utterly dumbfounded; to think that the ancient Runemasters of centuries past could construct such a place!
When they had gone a ways further, Loben at last brought them to a stop. He faced her, and for all the blue flame could not hide his expression. Kesmet peered up at him. She had never seen such a look come over him. Even at Janril's death he had never looked so dire.
It's not too late, he thought desperately. But he steeled himself. Kesmet knew what she was doing. She had been one of his most aspiring pupils—he had to trust her decision.
“There,” he pointed ahead of them, where the great columns seemed to form an enormous circle, “is the ceremony ground. Only one performing a ritual may enter. Once you enter, you are alone. I can go no further.”
Kesmet nodded. Gripping her Rune Tome in her arms, she entered the circle. The floor, she realized, was designed not unlike that of the ritual circles she had practised with during her years as a novice. She recognized the familiar patterns and distinguishing marks. A small part of her took comfort in this. She took a deep breath as she came to stand in the middle of the circle.
“Kesmet, I—please,” Loben shouted, “be careful. I'll be waiting here until you've completed the summoning.”
Kesmet smiled at him. Always the worrier. Returning her attention to the circle, she flipped easily through her tome to the rune forging she needed. She glanced at it only once as she bent, and with one outstretched finger she began to trace the appropriate insignia along the circle's edge. When she had completed the outline, she drew her finger towards herself until she had reached the epicenter. Here, she traced the plague rune. Satisfied with her work, she carefully placed her book outside the rune forging.
Loben watched as she worked, priding himself. He had surely taught her well. Though he stood tense, a small flicker of hope had caught fire within him.
Standing alone in the rune circle, Kesmet began to trace the final summoning patterns in the air. Each one held a slight afterglow before disappearing as she moved to the next symbol. When she completed the final sign, the air around her seemed to grow light. Her robes shifted as if she were submersed in water.
Slowly, a pinpoint of light began to appear in front of Kesmet. It convulsed and grew until it was a shimmering portal several paw-spans wide. Kesmet held her ground, allowing the portal to widen even further, until at last it was large enough for her to step through.
Not looking back, she entered the gateway. She thought she heard Loben call out to her, but she couldn't be sure. No sooner had she stepped through, the portal snapped shut with a thunderous crack that echoed throughout the ancient tomb.
Loben's heart lurched as she disappeared from the corporeal world. In his panic, he had tried to call out, to tell her that he loved her. The words fell on his ears alone, and seemed foolish.
He would have no choice now but to wait.
--
Loben ducked into the tomb entrance and gestured for Kesmet's paw. He took it in his own and guided her down the passageway. Testing blindly with her footpads, Kesmet found that steps had been cut into the stone.
“This is not a place Acolytes are usually welcome,” Loben said as they followed the steps downward. “I doubt one has been allowed entry in centuries.”
Kesmet smiled to herself wanly. “Worried about your title?”
“Hardly,” Loben snorted. “Not that there are many left to care.”
At that, Kesmet fell silent. They continued on, Loben seemingly knowing every step and turn by heart.
Eventually they came to a vast, open area deep within the tomb. Kesmet could discern an estimate of the room's size by the sounds of their echoing footsteps; it must be massive! Briefly, Loben released her paw, which had broken into a cold sweat. Her ears picked up the soft rasp of his robes, and she knew that he was casting a spell.
Blue flames sprang to life all around them. Kesmet was taken aback by what was revealed; the room itself seemed to have no end, stretching forever into darkness in all directions. Colossal pillars stood high, their surfaces covered with odd openings and hieroglyphs. The floor of the mausoleum was meticulously designed with whorls and patterns. Each attribute was connected to one or more adjacent patterns, so that the design itself was never-ending.
Loben took her paw once more and continued deeper into the burial chamber. Mouth agape, Kesmet moved forward with a childlike wonderment, staring at everything around her. She was utterly dumbfounded; to think that the ancient Runemasters of centuries past could construct such a place!
When they had gone a ways further, Loben at last brought them to a stop. He faced her, and for all the blue flame could not hide his expression. Kesmet peered up at him. She had never seen such a look come over him. Even at Janril's death he had never looked so dire.
It's not too late, he thought desperately. But he steeled himself. Kesmet knew what she was doing. She had been one of his most aspiring pupils—he had to trust her decision.
“There,” he pointed ahead of them, where the great columns seemed to form an enormous circle, “is the ceremony ground. Only one performing a ritual may enter. Once you enter, you are alone. I can go no further.”
Kesmet nodded. Gripping her Rune Tome in her arms, she entered the circle. The floor, she realized, was designed not unlike that of the ritual circles she had practised with during her years as a novice. She recognized the familiar patterns and distinguishing marks. A small part of her took comfort in this. She took a deep breath as she came to stand in the middle of the circle.
“Kesmet, I—please,” Loben shouted, “be careful. I'll be waiting here until you've completed the summoning.”
Kesmet smiled at him. Always the worrier. Returning her attention to the circle, she flipped easily through her tome to the rune forging she needed. She glanced at it only once as she bent, and with one outstretched finger she began to trace the appropriate insignia along the circle's edge. When she had completed the outline, she drew her finger towards herself until she had reached the epicenter. Here, she traced the plague rune. Satisfied with her work, she carefully placed her book outside the rune forging.
Loben watched as she worked, priding himself. He had surely taught her well. Though he stood tense, a small flicker of hope had caught fire within him.
Standing alone in the rune circle, Kesmet began to trace the final summoning patterns in the air. Each one held a slight afterglow before disappearing as she moved to the next symbol. When she completed the final sign, the air around her seemed to grow light. Her robes shifted as if she were submersed in water.
Slowly, a pinpoint of light began to appear in front of Kesmet. It convulsed and grew until it was a shimmering portal several paw-spans wide. Kesmet held her ground, allowing the portal to widen even further, until at last it was large enough for her to step through.
Not looking back, she entered the gateway. She thought she heard Loben call out to her, but she couldn't be sure. No sooner had she stepped through, the portal snapped shut with a thunderous crack that echoed throughout the ancient tomb.
Loben's heart lurched as she disappeared from the corporeal world. In his panic, he had tried to call out, to tell her that he loved her. The words fell on his ears alone, and seemed foolish.
He would have no choice now but to wait.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 31.7 kB
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