Chapter 65

"Consider the empires around you: in the passage of eras and generations, this dynasty will die; but the surviving fragments thereof shall be counted artefacts that have outlived a great passage of time.

So if antiqued relics are counted so valuably merely for the lasting of their lives against time and dynamic environment, how much more are you worth for surviving the tempests of life and the aging of your soul?"

~

The Under-Ground abyss beneath St. Erdengaur,

Beneath the Under-Ground Dungeons,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

As Jaycob Oreius walked stealthily and cautiously through the black and narrow space, the sounds of sizzling began to grow intense until a 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.

The whole view ranged a great gigantic size spreading to nearly the span of a great mountain, rising from the very depths of abyss and darkness down the nightly roots of the chasms.

It appeared as an arena made of red hot stone with ruptures of blazing fiery liquid from within their hearts, and pumices extracted from the very molten core of the earth, with frozen lava that emitted suffocating steams of heat.

These structures of stone, in nature's brimstone and gravel make, rose into four colossal sculptures of Dragons in the following likeness:

The first monstrous construct appeared as a large castle tower around which, the shape of a grand and menacing dragon was serpentined. Its talons seemed vicious and robust, sinking into the body of the stronghold that composed its perch. Its wings were as those of a bat's but in size it could scale the expanse of the large steeple's height. There was a great fountain of lava descending from the open jaws of the Beast as though it would spew fire.

The second great forming was in the shape of a gigantic Serpent whose wings were narrower, yet present. However, this roguish grotesque had great tusks and fins in the place of claws and its ears were webbed as the feet of a frog's and its tail was large and vigorous. The scales over its body appeared more composed and neatly paved as opposed to the irregular ones slapped over the bodies of the others; but perhaps it appeared so to the observing eye, for its corse was more polish, made of finer and shimmering stone. Its forked tongue reached a great way beyond the frontiers of its jaws. Its body was long; snaking over a large space. Although it had not the tower as the first one, this dragon was seen lowest of all others, sprawled over various protruding rocks. In its heart, there was the shape of the skull of a dragon and from all its scales, there was steam emanating out of its scutes.

The third enormous gargoyle bore much poise, with talons and claws and scales and most peculiarly, there was a large shield in its hand. Its wings were mastering great distance as the first's, and held prudently around its body and nearer the shield that was over its heart. From beneath, there were fumes of smoke effused and the creature's face seemed vice.

The fourth was titanic, scaling greater in all of breath and height and robustness over all the others by its side. It was diabolic, with its greatest wingspan spread across the whole expanse of the furnace, talons and claws and four fangs obtrusively prominent, and various pairs of horns and tail and a large sceptre upon which the pincers of its hands were rested. There were three pairs of wings and some sprouting out of the ends of its serpentine tail. Its face was spiteful and brutal as one that would not only spare no mercy, but further even relish the misery of its prey.

Torrents of magma oozed down from every crag of promontory, adding to the blaze and terror of the art.

Despite the fervent craft of sculpting, it appeared that this was not one made by human hands, for range, but by some natural construct.

The tall archer, a minuscule speck against the grandeur and cosmic sculptures, which were steaming and ignited by molten fire, stood in awe and horror.

It was evident that the Government had not made this, and that they were repulsed by fear from this blood-curdling construct.

It must have been one of the Nature's affairs that no human knew the origin and salience of.

Jaycob Israel did not know its dormant virtue or power, but if it was so, situated deeply in the earth and straightway underneath the Sword of St. Erdengaur's position, it should have to be significant.

There was no means of approaching the gargoyles, for they were in the massive gulf that lacked floor, their roots deep beneath in the darkness that could not be attained by sight.

Jaycob needed to find his way back outside the core before he was suffocated or incinerated to death.

Retracing his steps diligently in precise deliberate treads, into the nightish parts farther the rocky statues, the man found his means towards the gate.

As he walked closer, a slight misstep caused him to lose his footing and slide down. His very life flashed before his eyes as his hands searched for a hold, finding a jagged stone giving support.

In the hush of the place (despite the voice of the seething lava), he heard the book and other belongings of his hand make the sound of hitting solid ground and not burn into some sea of lava or continue and endless fall down what seemed like a bottomless ravine.

That signified that there was a brief amount of floor closer beneath, by a few treads, descending to which would not cost him his death.

From the point wherefrom he hung, there was no means of climbing to the gate above and making way outside. Hence, the only path he could choose was down under.

With a silent prayer, he loosened his grip on the crooked rock that was his only clasp and glided down.

A few scratches later, he met immediate grounds that were another such ridge of uneven rocks protruding from the walls of earth and stone.

His cloak, coat, vest and the diary of the druids were there, lying on the floor, and he collected them, wondering how he would proceed to make his way further beyond and outside the place, into the fairer world.

He wondered if this scorching territory was so feared for any causality that may have fallen down to meet the foundations of the earth and Death.

Jaycob carefully made his way across, hands testing the walls for any loose rocks that he may have to dig his way through.

As he made his way northward, there were portions of construct where there were sands that could be sifted. When he could detect even the slightest ray of hope, the Archer began clearing a potential means of escape.

As he began to remove the rocks and stones and fragments that yielded easily to clearance, the tall man found that boring his way grew more rigorously as he advanced deep.

Where there was unearthing in the beginning, it progressed to pushing the rocks as his path grew deep until he found some mild shafts of light spill in through the fissures.

Jaycob pushed the stone with his foot and it rolled out to let way into a tunnel that was paved and built by human hands.

He could not ascertain which portion of the Dungeons he was in, but he was aware that it was still the secret regions, for the walls and sparse torches were architected so.

The Archer wore the dark cloak and collected his material before stepping out the pass he had broken through.

He strode indiscriminately like he was native to confidential domain as the warlocks that had driven him into the curious core.

Jaycob was exhausted a great deal, but needed to safely make his way back to the Imperial Castle without another chase.

As the Archer walked on, there were approaching footsteps and the voices of persons talking and he paused to listen, hearing that it was the sound of the Regent himself.

He wore his mask and waited by the way, intending to overhear their matters.

"So he has found the office and the anti-dote?" came the Regent's distinct voice and Jaycob's heart froze from shock.

~