Chapter 64

"And what have we beneath the superficial? Amidst the deep of the earth, there are treasures and geodes and fossils and stone. But a human cannot endeavour to find them if his choice elects to stay over the crust.

The deeper you dive, the greater you unearth."

~

Project Incarnation Warlock,

Secret Lair of the Government,

Beneath the Under-Ground Dungeons,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

"That is the intent of the organisation-", Ingrid Luna-ward, whose throttle was being strangled, began to explain; but before the answers were bid, there was the sound of footsteps and the door opened.

Jaycob turned to eye his threat, unarresting the damsel he had restrained.

"It's the imposter! Quick!", a man's voice called and the various warlocks behind him gathered with arms.

They were all dresses akin in ebony cloaks, hooded and masked to preserve their identities to covertness, with staves in hand that were shaped in the various designs as that of mages. There were a few with raw gems clustered at the crest and others with discreet carvings.

The Archer knew that he was outnumbered, and decided that he would need to conceive other means of tackling the prejudiced situation.

Although the damsel had warned him of the immediate coming of these druids, he would not risk trusting Ingrid at such dire predicament; she was set free from his grasp at the shock, but had not plunged in threat against him.

She was gasping for crisp and comfortable breath.

Holding her hostage would invoke no benefits, for the men would not bet to forebear advancing towards him for Ingrid's sake.

In the flash of a moment, he grabbed the book and the blood-coloured potion that was in a carafe and turned, "I dare a single man of your lot to step an approach and I will spill this brew and shred your notes."

The troop seemed threatened and silenced by the minatory bargain, torn between saving their research and annexing the invader.

Knowing that the menace of such coercion would wear off sooner than it began, Jaycob exploited the opportunity of their conflict to hold continued possession of said objects as hostage and took flight.

"He took the anti-dote!" one of them hollered and the rest of the men pursued at his heel.

Now the masked Archer needed to trace his path back and find public solace where these men would rather hide, but he wished not to burst into Imogen's room with a mob chasing his case and disconcert the damsel, lest attention be called to her outlawed presence.

As he hastened down and out the laboratories and into the passageway, Jaycob knew that his one course of action that could barter him some time was sacrifice.

In a trice, he threw the flask of sacred liquid down on the floor and proceeded with his retreat.

The men were scampering, screaming, bewildered and lost in the darkness of the tunnel, slighted by both the loss of their concoction and the shards of glass strewed across the ground.

Jaycob did not know the weight of the project, nor the time it may have caused them to brew the beverage, but it felt as if the purpose thereof could not be justified to guileless virtue or morality.

As he dashed down the narrow path and met the door, a couple of men had followed in the hot pursuit of overtaking him.

Whilst he ran, there were the faintest sounds of scratches and shrieks from his cloak.

That was when he realised that as the buckles of his boots brushed against the velvet-crochet that was sown to the hem of the dark attire, the noise of scampering rats began to arise.

It was potential that the soles of their footwear were also designed with a material that avoided the voice that came with the fall of footsteps.

Passing the abandoned room and the hall that led thereto, Jaycob realised that he would be locked and potentially surrounded, be-cause his single other means appeared to be the long stairway that led directly to the Princess' Residence.

Just as he was passing, the tall man turned his fleeting gaze to find the large gate that stood grandly betwixt his present footing and a mass of darkness and mystery and unknown.

The Archer would have to endlessly run until he had shed the crew that followed. But if the path through the said gate led to farther than a dead end, he would be in the fortune of escape.

The grill of the gate was scalding to the touch and so, the olive haired man pushed it open with the diary in hand. As the barrier began to yank open, the man agilely made his way in.

The place was dark, but terribly humid. The silence was eerie and it was deep beneath the ground, placed under the various bases of dungeons.

There, he could not run in a rush, for there was no sight of what was laid before him: whether rocks or boulders or creatures or earth.

"Ah dread, he's entered and passed through the port into the Core"

"Reckless! Let us wait the worth of a few minutes before return"

Those were voices of the men that had been chasing him, spoken from beyond the gates he had passed.

Now, Jaycob Oreius had sufficient wits to gather that naught of good could await him deeper into the heart of the unknown.

However, it was needful to tread a brief distance in, for he wished to avoid the men that may potentially return with lanterns against the swirls and floods of solitary darkness.

There was, however, a constrictive feeling in his chest that made him presage that this place harboured something grimly ill, for even the druids that were native in the depths of the underground were retreating to their cloven.

With slow and careful tread, Jaycob walked forth, feeling the humidity charge his sweat.

He removed the cloak and wrapped it around his book, stepping forward steadily. The heat grew suffocating, but he could not retrace his steps, for the dangers at the hind end of the chase were threatening.

There were rugged and uneven rocks at all ends and he could gauge they were natural walls that were not made of human construct.

Placing a palm on the cragged pieces of earth to keep closer to such walls, Jaycob walked on until he was nearer to the core, wondering why such place was both available yet unconquered by the Government's Organisation.

The place he strode was the deepest point under-ground, with the Crown of St. Erdengaur straightway overhead.

The heat began to grow great as the Archer continued and finally, he heard sounds of seething liquid and burning and steam.

The smoke blew against his face and he could feel the drops of precipitation causing his very scalp and neck to feel damp with sweat.

Relieving his face of the masks and shrugging off his coat and vest, the man walked till there was a fiery light from a turn of the jagged walls.

Following the trail, keeping his body close to the walls for safety, Jaycob approached the bend wherefrom there was the amber glow of light and clouds of puffing steam illuminated.

One step slightly away from the wall caused him to realise that there was no path therein, for the rocks that had been beneath his soles chipped off and fell down unknown depths.

The only floor available for tread was the narrow and rocky road that was a wedge attached against the wall and there was no ground beyond.

Jaycob did not know how deep the sinking chasm beside him was, since it was dark, but it was safe to assume that the cove was nearly bottomless, for the debris that chipped away did not make the shattering sounds of meeting sure ground.

As he walked stealthily and cautiously, the sounds of sizzling began to grow intense until his gasp escaped him; dark, but lit eyes widened from the sight of one of the most terrible and breath-taking sceneries he had ever encountered in twenty and seven years.

~