Chapter 10: Sacred Secrets

Kadal upended Caden’s waterskin into the ferns as he watched from his seat beneath one of the palm trees, a skeptical expression etched onto his face.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Trust me,” Kadal replied, wading into the shallow water. She filled the vessel from the oasis, bubbles rising to the surface, then lifted it to her lips. She took a long draw, Caden watching each gulp slide down her long neck, taking a deep breath when her thirst was sated. He extended his hand as she climbed back up onto the bank, and she passed the waterskin to him, Caden taking a tentative sip.

“Alright,” he conceded, taking a longer drink. “It ‘does’ taste better. I conjure my water from the air, it’s purer than anything that comes out of the ground, but I suppose it must be lacking in mineral content.”

“Not that there is anything wrong with your method,” Kadal replied, “but we should drink our fill while we are here.”

The sun was rising, and Kadal had finished her morning basking. Memories of their romp the night before still lingered, flashing through his mind whenever he looked at his reptilian companion. They had made love several more times on the banks of the oasis, only sleeping once the stars were twinkling above the palm fronds, and they were too exhausted to continue. It had been the most wonderful night of his life, and it still felt more like a dream than reality. Kadal seemed to feel the same way. She was as cheerful as he had ever seen her, all of the prior tension that had existed between them melted away by the fires of their passion. He felt so ... comfortable around her now, in a way that he had never felt before. Knowing someone’s body so intimately, knowing their desires, and having them know you in the same way was such a marvelous thing.

“You are staring off into the distance again,” Kadal said, snapping him out of his stupor as she swiped the waterskin from his hand.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, watching her take another drink. She leaned over and ruffled his hair before tossing the vessel into his lap, Caden smiling up at her as he tried to straighten it.

“We should press on,” she said, planting her hands on her wide hips as she glanced out across the sparkling oasis. “We cannot be more than a day’s walk from the Eastern shore.”

“I’ll renew our spells before we leave,” Caden said, rising to his feet. He extended a hand, and his staff leapt into it. His control over it was so complete now that it felt like an extension of his own body. “The last thing we need is the translation spell wearing off while we’re in a pinch.”

Kadal scaled one of the reefs, leaping between the rocks, as agile as ever. She perched at the top, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered out over the desert.

“I see it!” she shouted, “the far shore!”

“Finally,” Caden muttered, climbing up the corals to join her. Beyond were the towering glass spires of the sacred city, which had been visible on the horizon for some time now, growing ever clearer as they neared. The twisting towers were made from reflective glass and silver metal, shining like beacons, the means of their construction violating all architectural principles that he knew of. They were too thin, too tall to be made from any known material. Perhaps that was also the reason they had endured for all these thousands of years.

As Kadal had said, the shore was also in view now. Far away, beyond the reefs and spires, the land began to slope upwards. There were far fewer whale bones here, just a few skeletons scattered between the corals, their pale color reflecting the sunlight. They had left the graveyard behind them and had thankfully encountered no more Borophages.

“I was starting to think I might never reach it,” Caden marveled, peering out at the welcome sight from beneath the shadow of his cowl. “Are we home free? I don’t see any Bone Eaters, and there’s been no sign of our pursuers since we left the caves.”

“Assuming that they went around the wall, they will be days behind us,” she replied confidently. “Nothing now stands between us and the city.”

“What about you?” he asked, turning to glance at her. “Do you still have any reservations about this?”

“I am about to break my people’s most sacred taboo by violating the sanctity of our holiest place,” she began. “All for an outsider who I was never supposed to speak with, let alone lie with. Yes, I have many reservations, but none that will make me forsake you. Whatever happens, we shall face it together.”

He reached over and gave her an appreciative pat on the back.

“Then we have no time to waste. Stay close to me, Kadal, and touch nothing. My Master warned me that this place might be booby-trapped, that its builders would not have left their treasures unguarded. I cannot say what form such traps might take, they may be magical in nature.”

As they neared, the city came into clearer view, emerging from the blue haze. It was surrounded by a tall wall, not unlike the one that they had encountered in the Coral Sea, watchtowers made from the same twisting glass and metal as the spires spaced out along its length. It looked like it encircled the whole city, which might make getting inside difficult. If they couldn’t find a breach, they would have to make one.

They arrived at the sloping shore, beginning to climb, eventually arriving at what would once have been water level. Caden turned to glance back the way that they had come, the ocean ridge that they had traveled beneath barely visible. He had come so far, he almost couldn’t believe that he had finally reached his destination. Setting off from the tower, he would never have imagined that his journey would have turned out this way.

He turned back to the face the wall that loomed above them, Kadal craning her long neck as she peered up at it. It was made from enormous blocks of limestone, exactly like the previous wall, cut into such precise shapes that he wouldn’t have been able to slip the blade of a knife into the gaps. These blocks were even larger and heavier, to the point that he found himself questioning how they could have been moved at all. Perhaps the architects had used magic to make them lighter.

“What now?” Kadal asked. “I climb well, but not this well...”

“I could try breaking through again,” he replied, turning to glance off to the right. The wall curved off into the distance, seeming to extend along the entire shoreline. “But I’d rather find a different way inside. This place is a city, there have to be gates, ways that the inhabitants would have come in and out. Back home, we have huge portcullises and drawbridges that let people pass, but can be used to close off the city in the case it comes under attack.”

“This ... is the first time that I have ever left the Coral Sea,” she said, turning to look out over the desert. She seemed wistful, almost homesick, perhaps reflecting on her journey in the same way that he had. “I know not what awaits us, we step out of my domain, and into yours. I will follow you.”

They walked along the base of the wall, eventually coming across an entrance. It was a monumental gate, at least thirty feet tall, and just as wide. The opening was flanked by two pillars of cracked marble that would have put even the tallest tree to shame. More walls rose up to either side to create a passageway with a stone floor that was maybe a hundred feet deep, with a large, iron portcullis at either end. The exterior gate was raised, while the interior was still lowered, what lay beyond it too shadowy to make out. There was a roof over the whole thing, bright shafts of light bleeding through openings in the ceiling to create golden pools on the ground below.

Kadal took a step forward, but Caden extended an arm to block her, his eyes darting about the gatehouse.

“Wait,” he hissed, his brow furrowing. “Murder hole.”

“Is your magic waning, or did I understand that correctly?” Kadal asked. “What in the name of the Gods is a ‘murder hole’?”

“See those openings in the ceiling?” he asked, pointing to the shafts of sunlight. “When an invading army breached the first gate, they would enter into this passageway, where the defenders would spring their trap. They would fire arrows, or pour boiling oil through those holes, slaughtering the soldiers inside.”

“That sounds ghastly,” Kadal said, grimacing at the thought. “Is that how your kind make war?”

“It has been known to happen, yes,” he admitted.

“But what does it matter now?” she continued. “There are no defenders left to trap us.”

“Defenders, no, but perhaps the spells that they left behind. Remember, Kadal, these people were master sorcerers. Imagine a weapon that can continue to kill long after its wielder has been slain.” He shrugged off his pack and knelt to rummage inside it, Kadal hovering nearby as she watched him pull out his spellbook. “Fortunately, I came prepared.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder as he began to leaf through the yellowed pages.

“I have a spell that can reveal hidden traps and mechanisms,” he explained, “as well as enchantments that are not too powerful. If there’s anything untoward waiting for us in there, I should be able to spot it.”

He raised his staff, balancing the book in his other hand as he began to read off the incantation, commanding the strands of magical energy to carry out his will. It was a more complex spell than most that he had cast so far, and it took a good fifteen minutes for him to go through the steps, Kadal knowing to stay quiet so as not to break his concentration. He set the book down, taking a few steps closer, waving his stave as he examined the walls. In its wake, it left a glittering cloud, as though sparkling dust was pouring from the bronze figurehead. The cloud lingered in the air, and through it, he could see the traces left by the structure’s architects. Behind the stone blocks were glowing patterns, some of them easily recognizable, others less so.

He could make out the mechanism that raised and lowered the portcullis, as though the walls had become transparent, the gears and chains leading to a lever in the guardhouse on the battlements above them. There were drains concealed beneath the stone floor, probably for the blood, and whatever caustic substances they would pour from those holes in the ceiling.

“What are these pipes for?” he wondered, approaching the threshold as he peered at the nearest wall. There were small, metal tubes spaced along it at intervals, curving into the floor where they extended beyond his sight. They must be connected to something far below them.

“I do not see any pipes,” Kadal said, keeping her distance.

“There are pressure plates built into the floor,” he mused, kneeling just beyond the gate. “Kadal, fetch me the largest rock you can find.”

She hesitated for a moment, then did as he bade, returning with a large stone hoisted over her shoulder like a sack of grain. After pausing to marvel at her bulging bicep for a moment, he told her to toss it into the passageway.

It landed on one of the pressure plates with a thud, a bright, roaring flame filling the chamber. It was as hot as a forge, Caden shielding his face from the heat as jets of flame spewed from the pipes, Kadal leaping back in alarm. Smoke billowed from the holes in the ceiling as the inferno began to clear, Caden glancing back at his frightened companion.

“It’s a fire trap of some kind,” he explained. “An intruder steps on a pressure plate, and if it’s armed, they’re greeted with a blast from those pipes. I’m surprised that it still works, there must be some kind of alchemic source, maybe a mechanism that mixes substances to create flame on command. I can’t imagine that any other method would still be functional after so long.”

“Will there be ... more traps like that?” she asked warily, glancing up at the towering gate.

“I expect so, but don’t worry. As long as we remain vigilant, we can preempt them. Now,” he added, raising his staff. “Time to make sure that these pipes never hurt anyone again.”

He willed the strands of magic to pass beneath the stone floor, targeting the mechanisms that would activate the pressure plates, conjuring heat. Like an iron in a forge, the gears began to glow red-hot, eventually starting to soften. It wasn’t long before all of the mechanisms had melted, slagged metal cooling in the small shafts that had once housed the ancient machinery.

Whoever had built this place had been advanced indeed, with an extensive knowledge of both alchemy and engineering. Such elaborate machines were not beyond the capabilities of modern smiths, the Dweorh certainly possessed the skills to forge things like this, but calling them uncommon would be an understatement. As much as he wanted to reassure Kadal, it was an ill omen. He would have to be extra careful going forward.

Caden stepped through the gate, hearing Kadal gasp as he made a point of stamping on one of the now inert plates.

“See?” he said, spreading his arms. “It’s perfectly safe. I destroyed the mechanisms, they can’t activate anymore.”

She crept in behind him warily, glancing up at the ceiling, which was now covered in black soot. They made their way over to the interior gate, Caden leaning against the portcullis as he tried to get a view inside, finding it far too dark. He gripped the bars and gave the metal lattice a shake, but it was firmly rooted to the floor.

“This is something more familiar, at least,” he muttered. “This is made from iron, and there will be teeth on the bottom that slot into grooves in the ground to make it harder to breach with a battering ram.” He waved his staff again, creating another cloud of glittering particles. “Looks like it uses a pulley system, it would require two men to raise it.”

“Is there any way through?” Kadal asked.

“With magic, anything is possible,” he replied. He lifted his staff, closing his eyes as he concentrated, the portcullis creaking. His companion took a step back, glancing up at the gate with a concerned expression, perhaps fearing that it was about to collapse.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“There are two chains that would normally be pulled to raise the gate,” he explained. “Since we cannot reach them, I am making their links heavier, as though a great weight were being attached to each one.”

He could see the metal links in his mind’s eye, their mass increasing as his magic did its work, the gate slowly rising from the ground as they grew heavy enough to counterbalance it. The sound of screeching metal filled the murder hole as the obstacle began to rise, sliding along grooves in the walls to either side of it, the clattering of the chains audible from the other side. When there was enough of a gap for him to get through, he crouched under it, Kadal waiting a moment longer before following after him. Once they were on the far side, he released his enchantment, the gate slamming into the floor behind them with a monumental crash that nearly made Kadal jump out of her skin.

“And that is how you breach a city,” he declared with an exaggerated bow.

“Caden,” Kadal whispered, pointing behind him.

He followed her gaze, turning to see the city. Before them was a long, straight road that led off into the distance, paved with great slabs of stone. They had shifted over the eons, the gaps revealing soil where desert plants had taken root. To either side of it rose tall buildings, easily larger than anything back in Caden’s kingdom. They were four, sometimes five stories tall, supported by rows of ornate pillars that held up their facades. Many had balconies that projected out over the street with marble balustrades, some of them partially collapsed to leave piles of broken rock on the road below, the ancient stonework not quite as sturdy as the city’s fortifications. Belvederes jutted from their sloping roofs, towers and turrets built for seemingly no other purpose than to give their occupants a view, the wooden shutters that had once covered their windows now rotted away to almost nothing.

They began to walk forward in silence, passing beneath crumbling archways, taking in the strange scenery. There was no pillar that wasn’t carved with elaborate reliefs, floral patterns winding their way up the masonry, no facade that wasn’t intricately decorated with statues and etchings. Every building was a work of art in its own right, the product of a master craftsman who had poured his entire being into every strike of his chisel. The inhabitants of this place must have been wealthy indeed to have enjoyed such luxuries.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Kadal asked, her head on a swivel.

“This isn’t too dissimilar from my home,” he replied, stopping to admire a building that had sculptures of men holding up its arches in place of pillars. “There’s a fortified wall, a gate, dwellings where the inhabitants would have lived. That said, the architecture here is fantastic, it’s so elaborate. Every inch of stone seems to have some kind of decoration. One might find such fineries in a king’s keep where I come from, but not on the walls of a commoner’s house. Everything here is so ... big...”

“Do your people live in dwellings like these?” she added, glancing over at the entrance to one of the structures. Two marble pillars flanked a large double door, the aged wood too decayed to make out the reliefs that had once adorned it. The surrounding stonework had survived, carvings of grapevines winding their way around it.

“Smaller, and far less impressive dwellings,” he replied. “If only we had time to stop and take notes. These buildings look like they’ve been untouched for thousands of years, imagine what could be learned.”

“We call this place the sacred city,” Kadal began, staring up at a sculpture of a lion’s head that snarled down at them from a corner of the building. “But I never really knew what a city was, I could never have conceived anything like this in my wildest dreams. What are we, a people who live in caves in the reefs, compared to those who can command stone to take any shape they desire? We truly walk in the footsteps of Gods...”

“Not Gods,” Caden chided, Kadal turning to glance down at him. “Skilled stonemasons and architects, certainly, but I see nothing that cannot be explained through the application of the physical sciences.”

Hoping that Kadal wasn’t about to have some kind of religious experience, he led her down the street, moving into a large square that must have once housed a bustling market. At its center was a twenty-foot statue perched atop a fountain that had run dry millennia ago, a figure of a man in an elaborate raiment raising a staff towards the heavens in triumph. He looked like a sorcerer to Caden, but perhaps that was just his bias talking. One feature stood out to him, however. The man had long, pointed ears.

“Hang on a minute,” he muttered, Kadal following behind him as he made his way over to the rim of the stone basin. There were runes on a brass plaque, but even if age hadn’t caked it in a layer of verdigris over the years, the language was unknown to him. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he peered up at the figure, examining it more closely.

“What is it?” Kadal asked.

“This man was an Alfar,” Caden replied, “There’s no doubt.” Knowing that she likely had no idea what he was talking about, he elaborated. “They were an ancient race of people who inhabited the forests and valleys of my homeland long ago, their overgrown ruins are scattered all over the kingdom. We know a fair bit about them. They were a highly magical people, and their culture held a deep reverence for nature. I had no idea that they had ranged so far East. This city is beyond anything that our scholars and explorers have uncovered until now.”

“So ... these Alfar built this place?” Kadal mused as she glanced up at the effigy.

“It’s starting to look that way,” Caden replied. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

“Do you know where you are going?” she asked skeptically.

“No, but my guess is that the most important civic buildings will be situated in the city center. Libraries, museums, seats of governance, that manner of thing. The object that we seek, this ‘black stone’, is unlikely to be sitting atop some random inhabitant’s mantle. Keep an eye out for any buildings that seem ... especially impressive.”

At least, that was his hope. In reality, the city could be made up of hundreds, even thousands of buildings. He had no idea what he was even looking for, or where it might be. This quest was going to take far longer than anticipated if they had to start scouring random structures.

As they made their way deeper into the maze of ruins, passing beneath more ornate arches as they went, Caden began to get a better idea of the city’s layout. Everything seemed to have been arranged in a grid pattern, with dwellings clustered in orderly blocks, surrounded by perfectly straight roads that intersected at right angles. It was all very carefully planned, very deliberate.

Above the rooftops, those crystalline spires jutted, glass and silver metal reflecting the sunlight. Up close, they were even more impressive, their intricate spirals seeming to defy everything that he knew about architecture. They were too tall, too thin to support themselves. They must be made from a material far strong than any stone, or perhaps there was a magical element to their construction.

“Look,” Caden said, pointing into the distance. “There are larger buildings ahead, those seem as good a place as any to start our search.”

As they neared the structures, they loomed ever larger, standing tall above the tiled roofs of the surrounding houses. One of them was an elaborate, domed building made from white marble that shone under the sun like a beacon, the entire exterior lined with stacks of ornate pillars. It certainly looked worthy of housing a king to Caden, perhaps it was the Alfar equivalent of a castle. It was surrounded by more of those pointed spires, corkscrewing their way into the azure sky, glittering like starlight. Beside it was a pyramidal structure made from what might be sandstone, almost as tall as the dome at its point. Its sloping walls must have been polished to a mirror-like sheen in their prime, but time had worn them down, the vestiges of what they once were still visible in places.

“So, your people have been protecting this city?” Caden asked as they walked down one of the deserted streets, some of the houses to either side of them little more than piles of rubble. “Do you know for how long?”

“I cannot say,” she replied. “It has always been that way. Generations ago, the Gods entrusted our people with guarding this place, and we have done so ever since. It is our most sacred duty, it is why we attack outsiders who enter the Coral Sea.”

“Well, you’ve done a good job,” he muttered. “This place should have been a goldmine for explorers and scholars throughout the ages, it should have been looted down to the foundations, yet it doesn’t look like a single person has ever set foot here. Regrettably, the fate of Alfar ruins is often to be pillaged for any valuable metals or gemstones, then dismantled by locals in search of good stone. I once read the account of a scholar who had sought out a magnificent ruined watchtower recorded by his predecessor, only to discover upon arriving that it had been dismantled by a local shepherd who wanted to build a wall to keep his flock from wandering.”

They passed beneath a massive arch that served as a gateway to the city center, likely a monument to some kind of war or conflict. It must have been sixty feet tall and almost as wide, propped up by two square pillars the size of buildings in their own right. There were intricate sculptures adorning each one, the statues seeming to extrude from the blocks of stone, while every flat surface was covered in a decorative relief of some kind. They showed scenes of battle, carvings of what looked like Alfar fighting against one another, horses and chariots stampeding over their adversaries.

As they passed beneath the curved ceiling, itself adorned with geometric patterns, he felt Kadal’s hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see that she was staring at one of the statues, and it took a moment for him to realize what she had discovered.

One of the statues on the interior of the support pillar depicted an Alfar, clad in a flowing raiment like the one they had seen atop the fountain in the town square. He was presenting a sword to a kneeling figure, almost like a king knighting one of his soldiers, the person in question raising their hands to receive this blessing. The kneeling figure was not an Alfar, however. It was a reptile.

Caden took a step towards it, pulling back his cowl as though that might give him a better view. The aged stone was cracked in places, eons of weathering eroding some of the finer details, but there was no mistake. The kneeling person had the long, clawed fingers of a reptile, the winding tail, the dull snout, the frilled neck. It took Caden a second to see that the reptile was wearing a robe. He had always known their kind to be sparsely clothed, so seeing one fully dressed had thrown him off.

“What is this?” Kadal gasped. She approached the statue, reaching up to place a hand on the stone, her frill rising. “It looks like ... me.”

Caden turned on the spot as he examined more of the sculptures that adorned the interior of the arch. There, another one. Where the leftmost support pillar joined to the curved ceiling, there was a relief depicting another battle. These Alfar were not fighting alone, they had reptiles among their ranks, the fearsome creatures charging their enemies with spear and sword in hand. He found another statue, a masterfully carved depiction of a reptile warrior sitting upon a pedestal, some kind of banner or standard draped across its broad shoulders as it knelt with its spear clutched in its claws. It was so lifelike, every scale carefully chiseled from the rock, every crease in the fabric lovingly depicted.

“Kadal,” he whispered, “could it be that your Gods were the Alfar?”

“If you have some insight into these mysteries, then do not hold your tongue,” she replied. “I do not understand what I am seeing.”

“Your ancestors were tasked with protecting this city by your Gods,” he continued. “Based on what we’ve seen so far, I’d say it’s safe to assume that the Alfar built this place. Their statues are everywhere, the pointed ears are unmistakable. These sculptures depict your people accepting weapons from them, fighting alongside them, being honored by them. If this arch is some kind of war memorial, then your people seem to have played a very large role in their history.”

“But ... how would such a thing be forgotten?” she asked, gazing up at another of the statues. “We know nothing of the sacred city save for that we were tasked with protecting it. We have dwelt in the Coral Sea since the dawn of time, we never lived in giant towers of stone.”

“Maybe you ‘didn’t’ forget it,” Caden replied. “At least, not entirely. Maybe the Alfar found you living in the Coral Sea when they arrived here, maybe they recognized your natural strengths, and sought to leverage them. They made of you auxiliaries, warriors, guards. Could it be that your people still carry on that tradition long after your former masters have disappeared? Their orders to defend the city have passed into myth, the original context lost to the ages.”

Kadal was steeped in thought, her scaly brow furrowing as she stood in the shadow of the arch. Caden had never seen her so contemplative before. He had to wonder if these revelations were undermining her faith, or whether it was being vindicated. After all, few religions could claim to have physical evidence of their Gods, proof of their favor.

“All my life, I have obeyed the will of the Gods,” she finally said. “I never questioned the words of the Shaman, I never doubted our history, I merely did my duty. What cause did I have to do otherwise?”

Caden prepared to console her, but she was not yet finished.

“Now, I discover that our Gods were as real as you or I, divine or not. That they really did entrust us with their protection, that the order to defend the sacred city came from their lips. My kin have been keeping this tradition for untold generations, doggedly carrying out our duties, even in their absence.”

“Are you ... alright?” he asked, still struggling to gauge her reaction.

“I feel as though the Gods have descended from the sky to stand before me,” she replied, gazing up at the statue again, her yellow eyes full of wonder. “To learn that a people capable of creating such wonders once honored us so, that we have remained loyal to them after all this time...” She glanced down at him, a wave of relief washing over Caden as he saw a smile brighten her face. “If they were divine or not, it changes little. They chose us to be their protectors.”

“I wonder what happened to them?” Caden mused, a sudden dark thought coming over him. “Could it be that ... the last time this calamity happened, they were able to correct the problem, but too late to save themselves?”

“What do you mean?” Kadal asked.