Wonders below

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Saturday, 19 April 2008 11:08

{jcomments on}He stood in utter darkness, his last torch long since burnt out. Each of his remaining senses tingled as he stood as if turned to stone by the fear which gripped him. It felt like the surrounding rock was closing in on him, his chest tightened, his breathing laboured as he tried to fight back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Taking a deep a lungful of the moist air, he held his breath. After a few seconds he released it slowly, his racing heart slowed, as he became calmer. “Think, Think” he thought over and over, cursing his own stupidity for getting lost in this labyrinth of caves and tunnels. Greed had driven him down into the dark dank depths, to search for treasure and wealth. The stories told in the local inn had intrigued him, lighting a match which ignited his curiosity. He wished he were sitting in the inn right now, listening to the old men as they told him of the legends surrounding “Deaths Hollow”. The name alone should have warned him, but he had sat listening intently as they spoke of the Draxsilians, a race many believed had once dwelt in the underground caverns. For long hours they had drank, telling him of the city the Drax’s had built, carved out of the living rock and lit by jewels embedded in the walls, great veins of gold, purified by the molten fires that burned far below ran through the smooth chiseled walkways, with a pool of liquid silver at the heart of the city, flowing like a water fountain in the cities of men.
His time at the inn now seemed far away, a distant memory? He had wandered into the small town of Strikemore by chance. After a long day of walking through the forests that covered the land from Seaview, where he had landed to his destination at the imperial city of Blanrock, where he was to take a position as a tracker for the Royal hunting parties, he had been tired and hungry. Resigned to a lonely camp fire and the last remaining provisions, he had seen through the trees lights beaming from the windows of the houses and shops that made up Strikemore, invigorated at the thought of a hot meal and warm bed, he had redoubled his pace as the last rays of daylight had faded. The town had been small, built round the logging trade that had cleared the surrounding forest. There was no great wealth in Strikemore, but all its residence seems prosperous enough. He had been greeted by a tiny women, who had been sitting behind the inns single bar, a pipe protruding from her thin lipped mouth, two beady blue eyes had watched him as he entered, her beak like nose making him feel like a piece of prey ready to be slaughtered. As he had approached the bar, his travel bag slung over one shoulder, the hawk like women had smiled, changing her demeanor from predator to friendly landlady. She had quickly set him up in a small but comfortable room, shouting to the cook to set a plate of venison stew as they pasted the kitchen on their way to the room. Mouth watering aromas had assailed his nose as they walked past, smells he hoped he would enjoy again. After changing he had returned to the bar to eat the eagerly anticipated meal. He had not been disappointed, succulent pieces of venison had floated in rich gravy, surrounded by fresh vegetables. As he had sat at the bar greedily eating his meal, he’d listened to the two old men sitting at one of only two tables in the bar. They were heatedly discussing the tale that surrounded his current location of Deaths Hollow. It had not taken long before he had politely asked them if they would like to join him in a drink, both had accepted with out hesitation, downing the two jugs of mead they had been nursing since he had entered.
Their recital had lead him to his current predicament, lost and alone in complete darkness. Resolving to somehow extricate himself from his current circumstances, he tried to remember what his surroundings had been before his last torch had spluttered and died, closing his useless eyes, he pictured his surroundings before the light had gone. A long tunnel, the sides roughly chiseled and no more than four paces to either side of him, the ceiling above had been the same height, roughly ten paces above him, for the whole of the time he wander through the twisting and turning tunnels. He need not worry about the ground, it was honed smooth, but offered more than enough grip to his stout boots. He knew if he stood where he was no one would happen to pass by, he was on his own and walking blindly through the tunnels was better then sitting down and waiting to starve to death. Resolved to his course of action, if not confident of a positive ending, he stepped to his left, his arm outstretch, feeling for the rough stone of the wall. After three paces he fingers touched the warm rock that encased him, placing his hand palm down on the bumpy, but smooth surface he walked forward. After only a few paces he had lost all sense of what direction he was facing. But as his steps grew in confidence, he started to increase his slow careful pace to a normal walking speed. The sound of his boots on the smooth stone below his feet was reassuring; the total silence had made his ears strain for sound, causing his to hear things in the deathly silence. Now at least his ears had something to listen to. He walked for hours. To keep his mine occupied he thought of the jewel encrusted walls and gold walkways, fountains of silver. Lost in his day dream he did not at first hear the second set of foot steps, his ears deceiving him into thinking they were the echo of his own steps. But slowly realization sank in, he slowed his steps as his heart started to race, the earlier panic once again starting to sweep through him. Convinced someone else was in the tunnel, he argued in his mind what to do, instinct said run, his brain said stop. Regardless of who or what was in here with him, he had no idea where he was going or where he would end up; his only hope was that who or whatever it was, they or it was friendly. Stopping dead in his tracks, the second set of steps continued, growing louder as they approached. He strained his hearing, trying to work out from which direction the steps were coming from.
Nervous sweat was running down his face, fear gripped his stomach, his throat dry. The steps were close; the pace had not changed even after he had stopped. Clearing his dry throat, the sound loud in the silence and darkness, he spoke in as confident a voice as he could muster. “Who’s there” his voice trembled, not the effect he was looking for. The steps stopped. The silence was worse, at least he had some idea of how far the steps had been from him, now he had no idea if, whatever it was, was sneaking up on him or simply standing and staring at the lost man “Hello” he repeated, this time the fear evident in his voice. He thought he heard a sniffing noise, was the creature using sent to identify him, was it smelling the air to see if he was edible. His stomach was now churning with terror, blind and alone he had no idea where he was or what was with him. “Hu-man” said a soft, female voice. “Human” he said, his fear diminished by the gentle effeminate voice. “Yes, human, I am a man” he realized how stupid he sounded. But he didn’t know if the creature, female or not could see him in the dark. His words hung in the air, unanswered. The creature, whatever it was didn’t reply. “Hello” he said, maybe it had left, frighten by him. Part of him hoped it had left, but the need to escape the tunnels and end the dark loneliness was stronger. “Hello” he repeated “ffffffummmm” the sound was like air being realized from a set of bellows, but softer, he sensed it was a sound of uncertainty. “Drax. Frumali” came the voice. His mind whirled, a Draxsilian, did that mean its name was Frumali. “Human, Aldo” he replied hoping the Drax was introducing itself. Suddenly a light flickered in the darkness; a red glow dimly lit the walls and floor. Bathed in the light was the most beautiful creature Aldo had ever seen. Standing a couple of inches taller than him at nearly six feet tall, was a women, but not a women. Long white hair, no not white, pale, colourless hair. Dressed in a gown the same colourless shade as her hair, the clothing clung to every curve of her slim torso. Small breasts pressed out against the material, with a tiny waist and narrow hips that joined small petite feet, bare against the stone floor. But her face was not human, skin as pale as her hair, a small nose sat perfectly above a small but full mouth, the lips only a shade or two darker than her skin. But it was the eyes that held Aldo, the only part of her with any colour; the huge oval green eyes stared back at him, pupil less, but filled with varying hues of green. Aldo stood in silence, mesmerized by the beauty of the creature. She lifted a thin pale arm with long delicate fingers and placed her hand on her chest. “Frumali” she said again. “Aldo” he whispered, his voice lost to the image in front of him. Clearing his throat again he repeated. “Aldo” Walking towards him, she held out her hand, Aldo took it without hesitation. Her skin was like silk, soft and warm. He found himself smiling up at Frumali, unable to take his eyes from her. Walking it the red glow, Aldo paid to attention to the source of the illumination, if he had he would have seen the fist sized ruby she held. The jewel pulsed very slightly, like a beating heart. The Drax and the enthralled Aldo had only walked a few hundred paces when Frumali stopped, looking down slightly at the human next to her, she smiled. Aldo’s heart jumped at her loveliness, his heart raced. The large ruby pulsed in time to his heart, but he did not notice, he was absorbed in her exquisiteness, the feeling of her soft hand in his. Placing her free hand on the wall she closed her eyes, words Aldo did not recognize flowed from her lips, the elegance of the language like music. The wall shook slightly as a panel just large enough for the two of them to pass through appeared before them. They stepped through the opening, as Frumali lead the enchanted Aldo into a huge cavern. The size of the cavern was lost on the unseeing Aldo who still stared at Frumali. The town of Strikemore would have fitted into the cavern twice over; the walls were covered with jewels of all types and sizes, each one burning with a different colour or hue. The jewels lit the scene before them, illuminating a wondrous stone city. Square houses covered the floor of the cavern and carved into the walls were great buildings, each decorated with intricate designs that swirled, linking into the building next to it. Great towers stood above these buildings, reaching high into the air, falling just short of the cavern ceiling. Stone walkways ran from wall to wall, barely ten paces above the square houses. All around Drax walked and carried on with the daily tasks, ignoring Frumali and her companion. They walked along the ground floor walkways, the stone shot through thick threads of glistening gold. As they walked Aldo never took his eyes from Frumali, unaware of the wonders around him. As they approached the centre of the city a tall ornate fountain came into view. Sculptured in the image of two Drax standing back to back, their arms held high, liquid silver flowing from their hands before falling into the round pool in which they stood. Placing both her hands on Aldo’s shoulder she sat him on the edge of the pool. He sat smiling, looking up into her beautiful face. Not meeting his eyes she placed the large ruby against his chest, the glow from the jewel grew brighter, the pulsing of the light beating faster. The blood drained from Aldo’s still smiling face as slowly his eyes glazed over, until the light of life flickered out. His head slumped forward on his chest; frumali gently stroked his hair before pushing him softly back into the silver pool. His body floated briefly on the surface before sinking out of sight. Without a backward glance she walked to the nearest jewel encrusted wall and placed the glowing ruby against the stone. As if made from liquid the ruby melted into the stone, shining with the thousands of other jewels that lit the cavern. Her delicate long fingers caressed the ruby, a single word spoken. “Aldo” she said as she turned away.

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