Chapter 503 - Guardian of Loften

Hope you all enjoy the holidays! Long chapter so I hope you enjoy it. I'll be back Tuesday the 30th with the next one. Merry Christmas!

“I think we’ve found our missing explorers,” Dylan said grimly. “That’s a big pile of bones.”

The mound sprawled at the far edge of the chamber, heaped in a careless hill that reached higher than Bud’s head, piled at the feet of a towering statue of a heroic warrior, spear in hand. Skulls grinned blankly from within the mass, ribcages collapsed on themselves, arms and legs shattered and tossed together like scrap wood for a fire. Some were blackened as if scorched, others shattered or crushed. A few bore the unmistakeable signs of teeth.

“He’s been here a long time,” Celaine said, squatting down to inspect them. “A thousand years of followers trying to free you adds up.”

“What do you think did this?” Hump asked, casting Wizard’s Light a little higher to illuminate the ceiling. It looked empty above, but something about the darkness felt like a veil, waiting to fall.

“The bite marks look like they were done after it died, like the bone was gnawed,” Celaine said. “And see here.” She picked up a femur and held it out. A deep cleft had been carved into it, clean and straight—unmistakably a blade. “This one died to a sword. Burn patterns on others. Shattered rib cages. Some of these were killed in combat, others… something else.”

“Gods, they weren’t cooked, were they?” Bud asked.

“No. At least the bones weren’t. This is the type of burn marks I’ve seen on the prey of dragons. Though it seems unlikely that the Pantheon would choose a guardian to keep Loften down here. They don’t deal with enclosed spaces very well and their wings need to be stretched.”

Nishari took an inquisitive step closer to the pile, sniffing at some of the bones.

“Leave it, Nisha,” Hump said.

She gave a shrill chirp, bouncing on her feet to turn and stare at Hump, her head tilted. Eat?

“Don’t eat,” Hump said. “These are altari bones, and possibly human. You shouldn’t eat people.”

Hungry.

“No, Nisha.”

“Have this one,” Celaine said, tossing her something that could have been an arm or a leg.

“Really, Celaine?” Hump snapped. “She can’t eat that!”

Celaine gave him a flat look. “Relax, Hump! I don’t know what it is but it’s not altari or human.”

“There’s no signs of life.” Emilia stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing over the rest of the great chamber. “Nothing at all that indicates something might still live here, other than the bones. What do you think piled them up? Whatever the Pantheon left behind to keep watch over Loften, surely it needs to eat and drink.”

Hump nodded slowly. “That’s bothering me too. It’s too silent. Empty. I didn’t expect it to be bustling down here, but I thought we’d have been attacked by now or have at least stumbled upon a trap. Maybe the guards aren’t alive at all, but creations of the Pantheon.”

“Golems wouldn’t need to eat,” Dylan said. “Loften can’t be the only one with methods to create such things.”

Hump’s eyes went back to the statue standing over the pile of bones, still as a… well, statue. The others looked at it with him, all of them slowly reaching for their weapons.

“Surely not, right?” Hump said. “We’d notice something like that.”

“Everyone, stand back,” Bud said, rounding the pile of bones slowly and drawing his sword. He reached the base of the statue and poked at it with his sword.

Hump had a spell ready on his lips. He watched for any movement, both with his eyes and Spirit Sight. Any sign of life.

The statue didn’t stir.

“Try a blessing,” Dylan said. “Maybe it will respond to essence.”

“Keep it subtle though,” Emilia added. “We don’t want to draw attention.”

Bud nodded, a flicker of Frostfire rising from his sword. Ice crystalised over the statue’s calf, yet still it didn’t stir. Hump watched as the essence disappeared from the air, siphoned off like everything else.

All of them relaxed and looked at each other, sharing a laugh.

“Let’s leave this part out of the stories we tell people,” Hump suggested.

“In our defence, there’s a mound of bones at its feet,” Bud said. “It’s an ominous statue!”

“Hush,” Celaine hissed, turning her head to listen. She turned toward the darkness farther along the balcony.

Nisha stiffened, shoulders hunched, staring into the same darkness.

Nothing came, yet the silence deepened again, thick like fog pressed against their skin.

“If it’s not the statue, something else is down here,” Celaine said. “We must move cautiously. Something picked these bones clean. Do you know of any golems that do that? I think we’re dealing with something living. Follow me and do so quietly. I know you want to be fast, but let’s scout these upper chambers first. Maybe we’ll get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

They swept through two floors without incident. There were rotted shelves and collapsed cases everywhere, where torn up books and scrolls had crumbled to pieces. And yet, tucked between the ruins, Hump occasionally found volumes that had survived. A few volumes had survived, protected beneath fallen beams or encased in broken wards that had only partially failed. Most were written in languages he didn’t recognise—perhaps ancient dialects of Alveron or even something older. But some were penned in faded ink, scribbled by hand in a version of modern alveronian that was just decipherable. Incomplete notes on enchantments, diagrams of runes, scattered thoughts about theoretical magic. Even the small pieces were fascinated, but the best-preserved books were still faded with time. Hump did not think there was much to be gained.

Other rooms on the floor hinted at a once lively tower. A place of study and research. Wide, circular chambers opened before them, their floors littered with fractured arrays, the boards and tiles torn up in places. Mechanisms were embedded into the walls, visible through bashed in holes, discs, runes, and suspended components now collapsed in heaps. Hump suspected they’d once held levitating platforms.

“Imagine what this place was like before it fell,” he whispered once, running a hand across a dormant enchantment. Celaine gave him a look but said nothing.

They cleared the top floor fairly quickly and continued down another staircase. This one was broad, with a wide landing that split the descent in two, fit for many people. Deeper into the empty dark they went, and still everything was silent. If not for the force draining away his essence, Hump would have thought there was nothing in this place at all. Every room had been ransacked. Nearly every book taken, and those that remained were largely crumbled and dust.

Yet here and there they saw signs of what must have once been. Grand statues and wall carvings, the faded colours of painted walls, suits of broken armour, shattered weapons, and fragmented essence stones.

Hump could hardly imagine the value of it all. Half a wing was devoted to alchemy. The tiled floor here was coated in shattered glass, glittering like frost in the light of Hump’s staff. Strange stains marked the walls, burned into the stone itself—traces of long-evaporated brews. Pipes lined the ceiling, twisted and broken, leading to vats and recessed stone basins whose purpose had long been forgotten. Cabinets stood open and empty, their contents looted or lost to time, but occasionally, a single vial remained intact, resting in a dark corner or caught behind collapsed shelving. The faded remains of alchemical ingredients remained in places—only recognisable from the occasional intact vial.

“It’s like they were looking for something,” Emilia finally said.

“What makes you think that?” Celaine asked.

“I can’t think of another good reason for the Pantheon or their forces to go to such lengths. Every piece of furniture turned out, every book taken, every bit of floor and wall searched. Loften must have had something everyone else wanted.”

When they reached the bottom, they came to stand before the great hole at the centre of the chamber. Staring down at the perfectly smooth drop, Hump held out his staff and watched as his essence was siphoned straight down.

Yet no light reached them from below.

“Loften’s going to be down there, isn’t it?” Celaine said nervously. “Why is everything always so far underground? Why would anyone even dig such a deep hole? Where does it go?”

“Imprisoning a god seems like one reason,” Dylan said.

“Unless Loften was the one to first dig it,” Emilia suggested. “That could be the purpose of the tower.”

“An essence stone mine?” Hump said.

Emilia shrugged. “Seems like an odd place to build a tower.”

“Or convenient,” Dylan countered.

“We have to go down, don’t we?” Celaine said rigidly.

Nisha cuddled against Celaine’s legs, sitting on her feet and staring up at her with worry.

Hump took her hand. “Yup. The question is, would you rather we descend quickly or slowly? I can slow our descent, or I can create steps from the walls.”

“Steps,” Celaine and Emilia both said at once.

“We might need to get back up in a hurry,” Emilia added.

Hump sighed. “I thought you might say that.”

“Problem?” Bud asked.

“It just looks very deep,” Hump said. “Hold on.”

He took out an old vial of Crystal Light, and shook it, generating a golden glow. He cast Embrace of the Wind over it, then dropped it into the hole. It fell slowly for a good half minute before his power over the spell faded and it dropped all at once. Another thirty seconds passed before it shattered against the ground at the bottom in a burst of light. Hump pressed his eyes shut against the sudden light and blinked back spots, but didn’t dare to keep them shut long.

For a few moments, they all stared silently. Nothing stirred.

“Hump,” Bud said.

“Yes, Bud?”

“Next time, could you please warn us before attempting to blind us all.”

Hump grimaced. “Sorry. That siphoning effect is stronger than I thought.” He sighed again. “It’s going to take a lot of steps.”

“We can use my vines too,” Dylan said. “They won’t reach that deep, but I can make a ladder out of them, and you can form platforms for us to take a break on as we go. Should be quickly than just steps, but a bit of a climb on the way back out.”

Hump nodded. “Let’s do that.”

And so began a gruelling descent.

For what felt like hours, Dylan and Hump worked in tandem. The druid would plant a seed, then shape it with Grasping Vines and Growth, weaving it into a sturdy ladder. At the bottom of each section, Hump used Transform Earth to carve out narrow ledges. They moved slowly and methodically, wary of anything lurking in the dark.

“I think we’re halfway,” Emilia said between breaths.

But no sooner had the words left her lips than a whisper echoed from above—low, cold, and inhuman.

Hump looked up, heart thudding. Shadows stirred. Ghostly figures emerged from the walls like oil through cloth. Armoured shapes cloaked in faint, flickering essence descended, their whispers filling the hole. He couldn’t make out their words, but he could feel them like a vibration against his soul and a chill in the air. Spectral knights, their helms dark and eyes glowing with green flame.

The cold that came with them was immediate. Not physical, but spiritual. A deathly stillness that scraped at the soul. Hump’s breath hitched. Even Nishari flattened against the wall with a hiss, eyes wide with alarm.

“Spectres!” Bud called, raising his sword, Frostfire blazing, filling the dark with light.

As one, the spectres attacked. The first reached for Hump, spectral blade drawn, but Bud raised his sword to meet it, carving through the creature. The blow disrupted its form, crystalising ice rushing into its body before it scattered to mist like smoke.

“Hump, it’s time to drop!” Emilia shouted.

“I’m casting,” he called, his spellbook in hand, already pouring essence into Embrace of the Wind.

Nishari erupted with fire, bathing the descending figures in the blaze, yet they emerged merely smouldering. There had to be fifty of them, if not more. Hump felt the icy touch of one of the knights as it emerged from the wall at his back. Before he could turn, Emilia pierced it with her rapier.

“We have you. Focus.”

It was seconds before his spell was complete. Above, he couldn’t see the roof of the chamber anymore, only spectral knights.

“It’s done,” Hump said. “Jump!”

He threw himself from the ledge. Air rushed past as they fell. Hump slowed their descent as much as he dared, but they still hit hard. He landed with Bud, tumbling across the stone, while the others landed with more grace, Nishari managing her own descent.

With solid ground at their feet, they turned their eyes upward, weapons ready. Hump already had a Fire Blast ready, the essence boiling in his staff, but the spectral knights didn’t follow. They circled overhead, perching on the ledges, watching with glowing eyes but unmoving.

Nishari growled, the deep, resonant kind that came from somewhere primal.

Hump hushed her, but through their bond, he felt her fear. He caught a glimpse of essence stirring in the dark of the chamber.

Celaine whirled around, an arrow on her string, staring into the darkness. “Something is here.”

She took aim, but something stayed her hand. The arrow slipped from the strings and she stared. Hump moved to raise his staff and shine some light into the dark, but she held back his arm.

“What is—”

“Nobody speak,” she whispered, barely audible. “Very quietly, move to the wall on your left. Keep one hand on it, don’t let go. Stay low. Follow it when I say.”

She didn’t wait for agreement. Celaine began moving with a hunter’s grace, each step placed with agonising care. Hump followed, his heart hammering, skin prickling with the tension in the air. Each footfall felt like it echoed too loudly in the cavernous space, but he kept going. Emilia followed behind him with Nisha. Dylan and Bud brought up the rear—Bud’s boots, heavier than the rest, struck the stone with dull, metallic thuds.

It was like thunder in a temple.

Something stirred.

A shape shifted in the gloom—massive, serpentine, and coiled tight in the shadows like a rope drawn back to strike. It uncurled slightly as it moved. A scaled body, thicker than a tree trunk, flexed across the stone floor with a sound like cracking ice.

Then came the eyes.

Two of them, high above. Huge, pale white spheres of swirling essence, like wind magic caught in an eternal storm. They blinked slowly. Silently. Watching.

Hump’s breath caught in his throat. He no longer felt the ground beneath his feet.

Too late to hide.

He flicked his fingers and whispered a command word. Light flared from his staff, flooding the massive chamber with a pale blue glow.

The creature lay coiled in the centre of the hollow like a living mountain, its many heads draped across stone ledges and broken structures like grotesque ornaments. Nine serpentine necks twisted from a single body of glistening, steel-grey scales. Spines ran down its back like jagged ridges of black stone. And on each of the visible necks, glowing faintly, was a sigil of one of the Pantheon. Nine sigils. Nine divine blessings. Three were missing, Loften amongst them.

Hump barely had time to process the implications when one of the heads moved. Its eyes gleamed in the light. Awake. Watching. The other eight remained still—slumbering, waiting.

“Hydra!” Bud blurted, stepping forward instinctively, hand on his sword.

Hump winced as the beast uncoiled. Its limbs shifted with creaking force, stone and dust falling in avalanches from the ridges it had rested on. Hump could feel the vibrations through the soles of his boots. Each breath it took sounded like a gathering storm.

As the hydra rose higher, its heads began to shift one after the other, sluggishly waking. Hump gripped his staff tighter, heart hammering like drums. He’d heard stories of hydras—legends of great heroes that had fought them, a few of which even beating them. But this power… the divine essence radiating from its body, he was not so sure.

“With me!” Celaine said. “The doorway is right there!”

Hump forced his eyes away from the hydra and saw it—a dark tunnel leading out of the chamber. He didn’t think twice, chasing after Celaine and the others, Bud at his back. As a roar shook the chamber, he reached it, then turned to see Bud just behind him, and a shadow at his back. Bud dove, crashing to the floor at Hump’s feet as jaws closed over the tunnel opening.

The hydra’s head coiled back, while three more lurked on either side, twisting to get a better look at them.

“We have a problem,” Celaine said.

Hump glanced over to her, only to see the tunnel ended there. The walls perfectly smooth, as if cut out from the stone. And at the back, carved into the wall, were the words:

MY DEATH FOR LOFTEN.