Excerpt from Alexan’s Third Journal, Tour of the Shadowed Depths

I think what I hate most about the Erlkin is how easily they can get lost in their own lies.

Although I have to admit, the only other races I know who get so badly tangled up in their own fabrications are Goblins and Humans.

Unnamed Tal

“This is it,” Tal called out gently. “I assume that’s what it means when the compass spins like this.”

[It does feel about right,] his backpack resident agreed.

As Tal had described, the needle of the compass was spinning madly in his hand, until he tilted the disk, allowing the needle to point straight down.

Nolsa hadn’t said much at all since they’d seen the first bristleback. A few more had peeked out of their tunnels and glared at them with beady black eyes, causing her to flinch every time. But with an idea of what to watch for, Perkay had managed to steer the three of them clear of any further ambushes.

“So, straight down then,” Perkay observed. “That means it’s time to go to work. Both of you, step back.”

Tal and Nolsa did as he asked, watching behind them for another trapdoor as they moved into a side tunnel. Nolsa made sure to wave her torch about thoroughly until they were backed against a wall of webbing.

As soon as they were clear, Perkay bent over and walked in a large circle, dragging his dagger through the webbing at his feet. The web parted easily again, even the wood barely slowing the dagger as it did the work Perkay was asking of it. Tal didn’t miss the wisps of shadow seeping into the dagger from the old Erlkin’s arm as he supplied the weapon with mana.

When he’d cut a full circle, Perkay waved Tal over. “Help me roll this up, Tal.”

Tal nodded and walked forward to help, taking the opposite side from Perkay to drag the circle of webbing out of the way. Removing the white carpet revealed the wooden floor between them and the tower directly below.

“This is gonna to be some work,” Perkay complained. “The tower is close, but not too close. This is goin’ to be like growin’ a house.”

“That far?” Nolsa asked.

“Yes, but no need for worryin’, I’ve got a gem or two to spare,” Perkay replied, waving off her concern.

Perkay rummaged around in his pouches, pulling out two spellstones and socketing one in each gauntlet. These stones were the largest Tal had ever seen, and Perkay had actually crafted a wooden frame around them to aid the fit. With the gems set, Perkay stood back from the center of the open space, his palms facing downwards “Well, time to get to work.”

Tal felt the pressure of Perkay initiating the spell. Peripheral splashes of mana against his skin felt alternately damp and then dusty, and Tal raised a hand to ward his face against the unsettling feeling of it.

Peeking through the fingers before his face, Tal could see strands of blue and green winding into the wood in front of Perkay. The wood itself shifted in appearance, brightening as if newly grown. When the appearance of it had gone from old and dusty to new and supple, the wood shifted, flexing out up and out of the way. Tal could hear it creaking and scraping as it moved, although the sound wasn’t nearly as loud as he might have expected.

It soon became clear as to why Perkay had asked Tal and Nolsa to move, as the wood lifted upwards to make room, Tal was quite happy to be out of the way. Before he knew it, Tal was looking at an archway of roots that extended to the top of the chamber, even as more wood below continued to shift and move out of the way. And Perkay was still going.

[Circulate your aether,] the shadow hawk warned. [There is quite a bit of mana swirling about at the moment.]

Tal did as he was warned, putting his mind to the task and pushing his aether about. Immediately he felt the difference as the circulation shed the ambient earth and water mana Perkay was putting off. A glance at Nolsa gave him the impression she was doing the same.

Not that Perkay was losing all that mana. Much of it floated out and then wound back down into the new tunnel he was opening up before him. Tal could see Perkay taking larger and quicker breaths as he worked, the strain of the magic pulling on his reserves.

Without thinking about it, Tal placed a hand on Perkay’s back and started sharing the aether circulation. First it was a trickle, just enough for the Erlkin to understand what was happening. Tal felt a tug on his aether as Perkay accepted the help, and increased the aether flow in turn. The breathing of the craftsman eased, although the progression of the tunnel opening up before them didn’t move any quicker. Soon Tal was also feeding the ambient earth and water mana seeping into him back to Perkay as well.

Tal lost himself in the effort, keeping the aether flowing, even as he felt the exertion dragging on him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he could feel prickles of moisture on his chest and back as Tal participated in the effort.

Tal blinked as the spell came to an end. He shook his head, it had been fascinating to watch the whole process. So much so that he’d actually lost track of time until Perkays work had descended down and out of sight.

No longer holding on to the spell, Perkay dropped to one knee, then got his hooves out from under him so that he could sit on his butt. Leaning back on his hands, he recovered his strength. Tal was more than happy to let Perkay have his rest.

What had once been a relatively flat surface had been turned into a huge mound of roots, easily bigger than the three of them. Within the mound and facing them the back of the archway had filled in forming a contained passage. Perkay had take the effort to build steps that led downwards and to the left in what looked to be a spiral. With the way Perkay had manipulated the wood, it looked as if the doorway, tunnel and steps had grown into this shape rather than being placed according to the old craftsman’s will.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t - huff - have been easier to just cut a hole?” Tal felt like he’d just gone on a long run.

“Shifting wood… quieter,” Perkay replied through his own breathing. He was in worse shape than Tal. “Cuttin’ wood… noisy… can drop wood… hard to hide. Thanks for the… help though. Good job.”

“That was amazing,” Nolsa finally spoke. “Such complex weaving of earth and water magic, how long did you spend charging that spell?”

Perkay waved a hand for a moment, before putting it back on the wood behind him to rest. “A while… it was harder to build than to charge… admittedly.”

[It was impressive watching him work,] the Sentinel added from Tal’s back. [Might I ask you to release me, Lady Nolsa?]

Tal turned his head to look at the bird out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course,” Nolsa replied. She leaned over a bit and undid the buckle holding the cover of Tal’s pack closed. She reached in and helped pull the Sentinel’s body out, since the box holding the gnarl wood mace made the effort a little too awkward for the bird itself.

“You should take that out, Tal.” Perkay reached up and tapped on the box. He turned and shifted to his side to climb carefully to his feet, wobbling slightly as he recovered his balance. “It’ll fend off anythin’ sneaky the Elder tries to do to you, just make sure you aren’t holdin’ the thing when you get to the pedestal, don’t know what it’ll do.”

“Okay,” Tal replied. He shed the backpack, pulling the straps off and turning around to reach in. While Tal pulled the box out and set it down in front of him. He flipped the latches and opened it up. The moment the lid was open, Tal could feel the gnarl wood pulling on his aether. He even had a hard time looking directly at the club as it disrupted the enchantment on his goggles. A side pocket in the box held a thick glove to be worn while holding the club and Tal quickly pulled it on before touching the club.

“Wear the chargin’ glove and try to keep the Sentinel topped off too,” Perkay advised. “He’ll be keeping us hidden in a bit.”

“Shouldn’t I keep the club tucked away then?” Tal asked. “I’m going to get to the fight tired at this rate.”

[If everything goes well, you won’t need to channel much aether,] the Sentinel advised.

Perkay shook his head, “And besides, hidin’ from Darisen means hidin’ from all his senses. The club is part of the deal: it's hard to look at with the goggles, yeah?”

“Yeah, it is,” Tal agreed.

As he spoke, Perkay was working on his own thing.

Perkay removed the two gems from the backs of his gauntlets and placed them in what looked like an empty pouch. Then he grabbed the glow torch from Nolsa and the one he’d put on the ground. He removed the small pits from the wands and placed them into the pouch as well.

He handed the pouch to Tal, interrupting him putting on the thick glove. “Keep this.”

Tal took the pouch, but hesitated, “Why me?”

“I don’t want to be grabbin’ the wrong thing by accident.” Perkay then began socketing new gems into his gauntlets.

“Uhh,” Tal mumbled, still confused. “Okay, I guess.” He put the pouch in his backpack and then shoved the case for the club back in as well. That done, Tal pulled the backpack on before finally tugging the charging glove with the six-element disk on the palm onto his left hand.

The Sentinel hopped from Nolsa’s hands to Tal’s left arm. Tal held his palm upwards for the bird to stand directly over the disk and pulled his hand close to his chest to lighten the load. The bird was light, but not that light.

“Okay,” Perkay sighed, “let’s go.”

Perkay went down first, his hooves just barely audible on the wood of the steps. Nolsa followed, the pulsing shadow above her head obscuring Perkay slightly. Tal took up the rear, holding the Sentinel close and resting his hand with the gnarlwood club against the outer wall of the curved tunnel, as far from everyone as he could keep it.

The bird in his hand shook out its feathers and settled down closer to the glove. Not missing the obvious hint, Tal started feeding a trickle of aether through the glove. He could feel the state of the Sentinel’s shadow-hawk body. It was mostly full after the previous day, only needing a slow dribble of mana to keep it full.

Tal was soon very happy for the thick glove on his other hand. It did more to stop the drain from the club than he expected. Touching the thing directly would probably have ruined his concentration.

The tunnel spiralled down, curved tightly enough that Perkay was almost hidden from Tal’s view.

[Tal.]

He looked down to see the Sentinel staring at him. The ‘voice’ of the Sentinel hadn’t been loud, only strong enough for Tal to hear. So he responded in kind. [Yes?]

[Don’t forget, Tal, that it is Nolsa and Perkay who will fight Darisen. Your only purpose is to reach the pedestal. Once you have your hands on it, the tower itself will take steps to protect you.]

Careful to concentrate on the uneven steps, Tal took a moment to compose his reply. [Isn’t Darisen able to disrupt the process? Are you sure it’ll be okay?]

[My understanding is Darisen has never had to deal with the interference of two capable opponents while the chosen meets the sealed one,] the Sentinel replied. [And I will also be present to monitor the process. My power is limited, but Perkay has taken steps to bolster my options.]

[Okay, I’ll do my best,] Tal promised.

“And, we’re here,” Perkay called out.

For a moment Tal panicked, before remembering the cap over his ear. He’d somehow managed to forget the masks they were all wearing. He’d become accustomed to the thing.

Nolsa and Tal moved up behind Perkay, allowing them to glance down into the space below.

Nothing had changed of course. It was still the same plus-shaped chamber as before, that shape remaining consistent as it rose up into the ceiling. It was hard to see the levels occupying the four corners around the plus, but Tal couldn’t see any movement from below. Perkay’s tunnel hadn’t brought them out at the very tip of the chamber at least. The tunnel exit had popped out just a bit below the highest point of the ceiling, an arrangement Perkay seemed happy with. He looked back at Tal. Then his eyes drifted down to the Sentinel.

“You ready for this, bird?” Perkay asked. “There’s no one down there at the moment; it’s best if we take a shortcut.”

[Make yourself a platform, it takes some space,] the Sentinel replied.

Perkay nodded. He took a moment to swap the gem in his right gauntlet, trading out a bright yellow-red gem for a brown and blue replacement so small that it needed a wooden frame just to fit the socket. Perkay put his left hand over his right wrist, pointed his right palm forward, and went to work. Strands of wood peeled away from the walls next to them, building a natural platform of wood extending into the chamber.

Unlike the tunnel, the platform was done in moments.

“Can’t argue with the results, but that takes a lot of mana,” Perkay commented, handing the gem to Tal as he talked.

Tal accepted the empty gem and stuffed it into a pocket.

“Okay, everyone onto the platform,” Perkay grumbled.

Perkay stepped to the side, and Nolsa moved to the other as Tal stepped between them.

“What do you plan to do?” Nolsa asked.

[I will carry the three of you down,] the Sentinel answered, shifting to plant its belly directly on Tal’s palm. [Tal will hold me above him; I will then create a temporary body that will transport us to the pedestal.]

“Okay then,” Tal ventured, lifting the avian body of the Sentinel above him.

[Try to keep the gnarl wood club low for me, Tal, the further away the better.]

“Gotcha.”

The sudden push of dark mana around Tal’s left hand was more than he expected. Above the three of them, dark mana streamed from the shadow hawk, moving with obvious purpose and direction. Only a couple moments after it started, Tal could see the outline of the Sentinel duplicated as a body of black mana took shape, with his hand embedded in its belly.

“Nolsa, lift your arms,” Perkay advised, showing her what he meant by raising his elbows up.

“As you wish?” Nolsa replied, duplicating Perkay’s pose.

The new body crowded the limited space of the ceiling, its wings spread but forced to follow the curve of the wood above them. As it filled in, the body took hold of Perkay and Nolsa, gently wrapping its talons around their torsos.

[Are you all ready?]

“Of course,” Nolsa replied.

“Been ready for decades,” Perkay answered.

“No, but I’m not about to get better,” Tal admitted.

[Good enough. Down we go.]

The shadowy body of the Sentinel hardened, and it lifted them from the platform with a gust of wind mana. Shifting forward just a bit, it began its slow fall to the floor of the chamber.

The chamber spread out as they dropped, the Sentinel falling in a tight spiral with mana-driven wind filling its wings. But the descent was still quicker than Tal expected, the floor rising up to meet them. The pedestal was flying up to meet them.

Tal screwed his eyes shut, only to feel a much larger gust of wind at the very end, just as his feet touched down on the floor.

And just as the shouting began.

The mass around his left hand disappeared, and Tal felt the bird take off.

“To the pedestal, Tal!” Nolsa shouted, hollow wand in her right hand, new medallion in her left. Tal could see the gems glittering in the newly made focus.

“He saw us—” Perkay started.

“Fools and Puppets!” thundered the voice of Darisen from above. “You will not release the seal while I stand guard!”

A bubble of scintillating light surrounded the pedestal, the harshness of it half blinding Tal.

Moments later, a great impact shook the chamber, kicking up dust and shards of wood. A light gust cleared the space around the source, Grand Elder Darisen, holding his elemental staff.

Darisen pointed the end of his staff at Tal. “Foolish chosen, it grieves me that another has fallen to the corrupt shadow. But my duty must be done.”

End Chapter