What is this place? The thought plagued that deep curiosity within. Did the clan know of this? Was it the truth desired from the explosion? Not elitum, not Oredite, but this…Merrin felt the breath of pastness over his skin. The surety that the age he now walked on was beyond what was known.
Beyond the current common era. Brother always said there were three ages before now…Was it in one of them that this place was built? Merrin felt the ambience of childhood—the infomania.
It was curiosity that killed Leim! Your curiosity. The voice. He sighed, walked on. Catelyn stumbled on occasion, a curse released at such moments. He told her of the watchouts, but she failed to grasp them. A lack of situational awareness.
How exactly do lowlanders survive for so long? He thought, Must be the casters. Surely without them, their end would have been faster…He quipped in that thought, a brief moment, he knew before the pressure of reality. He stopped, looked to the side.
"What?" Catelyn collided with his back, face-first and damned him.
Merrin said, "Can you feel something?"
"My face hurts!" She said…
Merrin glanced sidely—at her. "Sorry," he said, "But no. Like someone is looking at you."
"Thalnethar"
"What?"
"Fear of the dark depths."
"I'm afraid?" Merrin searched, but found no such. Instead, for the witnesses, now that existed. "That's not what I mean."
"Mist this, let's just go!"
Merrin reined in, walked on. I know I felt something…What was that?
They entered the chamber.
Catelyn gasped, a relieved one. She sat now on highstone, cloth drenched, froststone, a glow of weak illumination. "Here is where you woke up?"
Merrin stared at the outdoor formed from his previous casting. It was a hole, floored with stones. A strangely unnerving thing. Why though? His eyes locked on the space, watching. That feeling—surely it was not fear.
"So?" Catelyn again.
"Yes, I did," Merrin replied.
"I see." She said, "You cast the wind now…A strange addiction for one who is meant to be the veilCounsel."
"Would you rather I turn off the no-light? Perhaps deeper darkness might have saved you."
He heard a tongue click. "I suppose you don't know what this place is?"
"Does it matter?" Merrin frowned at the egress into the chamber. Should I block it?
Catelyn said, "Everything matters. Not a single thing does not. The only difference is who to."
"Then I don't know."
"And you can see in the dark." There was mockery in that.
Merrin snapped. "Why don't you try seeing yourself? It's easy, just time and training."
"Why don't you burn?"
Merrin startled. Her tone…That spoke not of jokes or mockery. A question. An authentic one…Why don't I burn? Is that a thing of the caster? He asked, "What do you mean?"
A sigh. "I heard you often burned white before your witnesses. Some obvious release of force that is misinterpreted as a miracle. Brightness regardless. Obviously, you have enough to waste on such shows. Why not now? I need to see. To know where we are. To find safety, I need to see."
There was a minute of silence. Why didn't I think of that? Merrin thought of a comeback, saw none, and sighed.
Eventually.
Light spewed out from his body, raying out, burning in that mad luminosity of which the witnesses knew him for. Radiance came upon the room—the oval chamber.
Catelyn gasped… "This..This.." She moved from the highstone, hurrying in frenetic ways. The walls met her fingers, the stones. Everything. The wood, too. Like a child, one without control over their expressiveness. She turned gleeful. "This is older than the third AGE!" She covered her lips.
Third age? Older than the third age? Merrin thought, Does that make it very old or very young?
Catelyn finally found the stele. That half-broken monolith of sleek but rusted stone. On it, she froze. All things received that joy of curiosity, but on this, she paused. "Come closer!" She said,
Merrin stared at her…Why should—
"I SAID COME CLOSER!" Command in tone.
Merrin obeyed out of necessity and moved. Halfway, she stopped him. In the room's center, he stood, like a lamp, beaming full light to all sides. Catelyn said then, "He was a thing from the unknown heavens—a creature that sowed doubt and deception in the highlords of the Orvalen. He was a malicious breed. The great deceiver. One split by the mighty Shaedoran. Yet he still lingers. There, here. A smile. He lingers. Taka was its divider. With his great wheel, the deceiver was parted. But one remains—" she stopped. "Wait, where's the rest?"
Merrin snapped from the bewildering trance…She could read it? Old tongue. The oldest language, and she could read it? "I don't know."
"Mists!" She touched stone. "Was it the explosion that broke it?"
Interest lorded. "What's that?" Merrin asked, "Is that a story or something?"
Catelyn looked to him. "A book from the past."
"Doesn't look like one."
"To you maybe."
What's that supposed to mean?
She continued, eyes tight on stone. "The deciever came with a different name…The lord of—" A pause, a tongue click. "We have made for ourselves creatures of great might. The winged ones, the dr—" She shrieked… "Mist the flow of time!"
Merrin drew knowledge from the undertones he subtly detected and brief pauses. The stele from rust and age had worn down considerably. Thus, the stories, those things that held importance to Catelyn, were marred. The question was, What were they? And what was this place?
"Creatures of trapped light. Our loremasters wonder now at the chance of their encounter with the greatest rider. Auwale of the Shaedoran. The remnants of our gods. If he were to return, then his worship would be most exalted…" Catelyn paused, studying something. "The great deceiver was revealed with a single name, Y—"
A scream tore through the chamber, startling. Merrin turned. "Who?"
Again, the scream. A baritone-infused voice that spoke of masculinity than the other. A man. Was it Ron? Merrin took to his feet, heard a voice, and stopped.
Catelyn said, focused on the stele. "Wait, don't go. I need the light!"
She needs the light? Merrin snapped. "If you aren't coming, I am leaving you to die to whatever is in these depths. See how you read, then."
She scowled and raced towards him. Together, they crossed the outdoor, running into the halls. Sound searching. His radiance, the one source of light that allowed perception. At least for Catelyn.
Their steps padded on the hard, dried earth. Stone kicking off in certain moments. He moved with that ashman method; swift, silent, precision that called for no excessive motions. Catelyn, on the other hand, did the pure opposite. Where he breathed in slowness, she drowned her throat in it. In quiet steps, she stumbled loudly.
In the mountains, such was treated as a liability and their stoneknife taken from them. A moment, he wondered the lowlander equivalent of a stoneknife. None came. He fronted a boulder, listening for the sound, Catelyn beside. Bathed in the light. Silent for some reason. An unnerving quality in her usual brashness.
It came—the scream…An audible shout for help. Merrin traced, spurting. Catelyn followed, as best as she could manage. Together, they ran the halls. Past stones, heat-burned chairs—things of such strangeness that their use suggested no information. In all, they ran. To the voice. To that one source that filled his heart with hope.
Often, he was awed at the height—width and thought about it builders. Was it those people, he recalled the stele's words. The orvalen. Who were they? The voice halted his mentation. Left, he saw there a large boulder, 4 meters, pressed against the wall. The ridges bearing signs of an entryway. A mighty enough block of stone.
"Helllppp!" A muffled scream.
Merrin stepped back, said, "Move back, please. Hold something and move back!"
"Therrees sumtin here!" The voice said, "HELLLPPP!"
Cold wrapped him—the stunning emotion. I must save him! The internal sea rose—a hand grabbed his shoulders. He turned. Catelyn. "What?" He rasped.
"How did that person get in there?"
Father above, what is she talking about? "The explosion! Of course, the explosion. What else?" He felt her an idiot.
Her brows knitted. "Yes, but how then did that boulder cover that wall?" She said, "Look at it." She pointed, "Doesn't that seem old?"
Merrin looked to the megalith, saw then the tattered marks, the soot dust, and the stone pile placed beneath it. Truthfully, all things pointed at a certain lastiness to the stone….That demanded further procession. Yet—
The scream.
"I don't have time for that!" He surged and whipped the wind. The collision sound pushed him into the side of a boulder. Reflexes saved Catelyn as he grabbed her, hands on her waist. She covered her ears and declined her head.
The aftermath cleared, dust rising. Quickly, still radiating that immense light, he coursed the haziness, saw then a staggering figure, slow-moving. In the shadows, a man walked out. Panting, blood flowing over his body. Badly, arms marred, skin cut, like an injured battler.