《A Lonely Spiral》6 - Road

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I sat there with her lifeless body in my arms for some time. I didn’t leave her until all the warmth had drained away.

I think we all expect last words to hold some sort of significance. One final blurb of wisdom before the dot. No one ever expects the dying person in question to simply not know the exact timing before they close their eyes for good. Maybe that’s too much to ask of them. I know my expectations were upended with this woman.

She’d had many, many last words. They were all interrupted in some way that mattered.

I’m not sure what to do with them. She didn’t even tell me her name.

What am I going to do with her? She deserves to be buried, more than anyone else.

I couldn’t see any convenient sarcophagi lying around. The ground was loose and dirty. There’s a nook between some roots and dirt. I could squeeze her in there. Or I could dig a proper grave. It would take some time, but I could do it.

I could just leave her here.

The thought was appealing and for that, I felt bad again.

I’m a good egg, I swear.

My gaze wandered to her body. She was wearing a dense looking, worn yet slightly ornate armor, embossed with motifs of a horned and feathered snake. The snake had no eyes, but the longer I looked at it, the more I felt mesmerized by its many intricate spiraling quills.

I could take something to remember her by, as a memento– NO! Bad thoughts. She doesn’t deserve to be stripped clean of dignity and feathered like a chicken.

But… but… memento?

NO! Never! I’m supposed to be a knight, honest and honorable and holy and, and, and…

I took a simple ring made of copper from her left middle finger.

She probably wouldn’t miss one of her seven rings. Who even needed seven rings in the first place?

It didn’t matter, I now had a thing to remember her by – yes, that’s my excuse. Doesn’t make me feel any less bad.

That’s a lie. It did. It felt nice on my own ring finger.

I put her helmet back over her face. If she comes back from the dead – like me – she’ll be fully protected. Nice and snug.

Laying her to rest on her side, it seemed almost as if she were simply asleep. I’ll find you a nice place to rest. As payment, for the ring. And the light. And the warning. Man, I hope she wasn’t talking about that masked giant with the curved sword. Did he follow me?

I looked over my shoulder, perking my ears.

No signs of anything beyond the darkness. The silence was unsettling.

I already feel starved for human interaction. Again.

But this was a graveyard and the only people I’d found besides miss knight had been murderously hostile, or corpses.

I don’t want to be here anymore.

I’d just started digging a hole with my once more gloved hands, but as I stood up, I heard a rustling of twigs to the side. From one moment to the next, a thousand scenarios played out in my mind.

Something’s there.

Shit.

If it’s the one-armed giant from before, I’m dead.

If it’s a bristle spider, I’m not.

Two bristle spiders? That’s less manageable.

If it’s something else, well, I wouldn’t bet on myself.

What the female knight had said before was adding to my mounting distress.

“Something lurks in the dark.”

Or someone? Maybe.

It killed her. But she looked so much healthier, was so much stronger, than me! Better equipped, better armored. She was a friggin angel for crying out loud!

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Still, it got her. A thought came to me.

You can’t hide in the dark if you glow like an angel.

That thought made me angry.

It’s unfair! She probably couldn’t even sleep without worrying that she’d be stabbed in the back. Why was she even alone out here?

Fury, boiling beneath my skin, and a good dose of idiocy made me stand my ground, sword raised with both hands, shaking only slightly. It felt lighter than before, but the pain in my right arm reminded me that that was probably an illusion.

The rustling continued.

“C-coward!” I yelled.

That wasn’t enough to describe what exactly I was feeling, a sense of righteous indignation, of anger, of, well, fear, too.

For a moment, everything was quiet. I scanned the surroundings, taking in a deep breath of air. It felt fresh, hotter, and yet colder than before and it helped me cool down enough to notice a change that wasn’t there before.

I could see further.

Why can I see further? Nine, maybe ten feet. Just shadows and shapes, dim, but noticeably further.

It had to be the ring. I knew it had to because I couldn’t explain it any other way.

I wasn’t sure what the sound was, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to finish digging the angel’s grave. So, with quite a lot of guilt, I squished her cumbersome and armored body into the nook between a bunch of roots under the overhang behind her. She didn’t quite fit, her legs were still sticking out and with every passing heartbeat, I grew more frantic.

The rustling continued, this time coming from behind. It was louder than a bristle spider, and there was a hissing and clicking accompanying the sound of twigs scratching along something hard. Instead of coming closer, it just got louder and louder.

Too loud.

Way too loud.

Nope, nopenopenopenope.

I’m ashamed to say it, but I ran. I don’t know if it was the right decision, but I had to some a choice.

Running fast and far, stumbling downhill, I found a trail of sorts and then lost it three times. A lot of thorny bushes found me instead, which only fueled my growing panic as I frantically tore at the brambles stuck to my legs. Luckily, the clicking and scratching grew distant as I hurried down to the base of the hill.

Whatever it was, it had lost interest in me.

Whatever it is, it’s interested in… something else now.

Bad thoughts! Into the box!

At the pace I was tearing downhill, I was fully expecting to accidently jump off a cliff and break a leg. Or my neck.

I didn’t, which was only partly thanks to that rational part of my mind that was telling me that I wasn’t being chased and I should probably slow down a bit.

I hadn’t gone downwards for more than a few dozen steps when the slope very suddenly shifted into a horizontal, plane.

A bit too suddenly.

“Ack!” I said, as once again I ate dirt. The ground was slippery, ok?

Nope, the dirt doesn’t taste any better here than it does at the cemetery. Kind of counterintuitive, with the mass of dead bodies and all. You’d think that would turn the earth into a putrescent stew of ick und miasma, but that isn’t how it works, apparently. No, apparently dirt is dirt wherever you go.

What do I care, I’m not an earthworm.

Climbing out of a small ditch, I was at least glad that I had found the road. Or, well, a road.

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Well, I didn’t exactly “follow” the path down. I have no clue where I ended up at and I sure as hell don’t even know which direction lead towards the temple. Left or right, it’s a coinflip. Except I don’t have a coin.

So, I did what any sensible person would do and picked… left.

I really don’t want to have to trust my instincts on this.

But I had to and after a long, painful walk, I was starting to feel my doubts validated. My feet were hurting, evidently cut up by sharp rocks and brambly bushes. The road had smooth cobbled stone, which was better, but I still didn’t feel any progress at all. Everything looked the same.

I knew this was the wrong direction. Gah, why can’t anything go right for me today? First spiders the size of my noggin, then murderous corpse-people, THEN a hecking giant swordsman who apparently launched me so far that he just gave up looking for me. Then, I meet the first halfway sane human in my entire stay here and she just up and dies in my arms!

I sniffled. I’m not dreaming, am I?

There was no other reason I could think of as to how this could still be a dream. And I had a lot of time to think about as I trudged along the lonely road.

Better thoughts. Distractions, distractions. Focus on the road.

It was a very nice road, starting off cobbled, but then merging into one made of actual stone bricks. Not the backed ones either, but they looked and felt as if cut from a whole piece of stone. They were placed in an orderly, crisscrossing pattern, something I think I’ve seen many times before.

The orderliness was soothing, if only a bit.

What a weird thought to have.

As I kept on walking, my thirst was starting to become a real issue and all the pains in my body returned with a vengeance. As did the hunger and the numb feeling in my arm. It wasn’t like I wasn’t feeling all that before, I just well, hadn’t focused on it. I had more important things to do. To think about.

Or maybe the angel lady performed some sort of pain-healing miracle-thing on me. That would explain it. Bless the angel lady, whoever you were. I will always remember you.

Now however, all my ailments were back with backup. I was developing a limp and my breath was growing shorter by the… minute.

Still no idea how I’m supposed to count time. Should I count my steps? One, two, three, four… eighty-seven, eighty…nine?

I was so focused with myself that I almost didn’t notice the way the road narrowed all of a sudden, how it buckled upwards ever so slightly and developed short, stubby parapets at the sides.

“Huh. That’s a bridge.” I thought to myself,

My heart skipped a beat.

I’m here! I made it! Yes, yes, yeeees!

I took a few stumbling steps, overjoyed at the prospect of being at the place the nice angel lady had told me about.

There’s a temple, and a temple means people. A temple means healing. Oh, whatever this place is, I hope it’s safe. Oh, maybe they have fresh water? Some food, perhaps. A bath.

I would have killed for any of the above, which only helped to reinforce my hopes that I was at the right place and not at some random bridge.

I took a few exploratory steps forward and almost screamed out loud when the whole bridge started shuddering and a parapet turned, then crumbled off to the side.

Aaaaaah, no, whywhy why now?

It was over as soon as it started, and I heard the crash of rocks echo deep below me.

That’s a looong drop. Holy cow.

The sudden halt made me look a bit more carefully at my surroundings. Half a step ahead, there were a dozen or so spears lodged in between the stone floor. They went from the floor to roughly chest-height and were feathered at the end.

Those aren’t spears. Those are arrows.

I hesitated, all enthusiasm for my unexpected progress gone, jumped off the bridge with those rocks from before.

Haha. If whatever shot those out is still around, I’m dead. No question, no warning. Just dead. Rye on a spike.

The picture was rather intrusive, but I pushed it to the side as I thought back to what the woman had said.

“Ring the bell.”

What bell? I didn’t see one while walking over here, but then again, I hadn’t been paying much attention.

And that could have gotten me killed. Look how those arrows are all roughly scattered behind the middle line of the bridge? Yeah, I almost blundered over the obvious border of death like daydreaming child.

A stupid daydreaming child.

Find the bell, then cross the bridge. C’mon Rye, you can do it. One last push.

It didn’t take long to find the bell. It was some ways off to the right side before the start of the bridge, where a small stone pedestal had been built for it. Only one problem: The bell was not here.

More precisely, it was stuck in the earth a few feet behind the pedestal. It had probably fallen over some time ago and rain and weather had half buried it in the ground. There was moss and lichen growing all over it. I could barely recognize it as a bell.

Am I supposed to dig it out? It’s almost my size, even half submerged in mud!

This was a dilemma and I just stood there for a good while, thinking and thinking until I could feel my head boiling over.

“Stupid cryptic bullshit!” I thought and in a flight of hotheaded anger, I kicked the bell with some force. I wasn’t wearing any boots, but I had the presence of mind to kick it with the bottom of my foot instead of the toes.

It made a dull Bomf! sound that reverberated through the ground. I felt it travel from my sole through my legs and body until it added to my myriad injuries as a dampened headache in the back of my head. I felt dizzy and even putting my fingers in my ear didn’t make the sound go away.

There, I did it! Guess it’s time to go over the bridge. Hopefully this isn’t the end of my life.

Having come close to death at least three or four times in one day sadly didn’t make me all that less fearful of death. Rather, it had the opposite effect, anticipation and worry festering and growing as I approached the bridge once more.

If it’s a dream, I don’t have to worry. I’ll just wake up in a fluffy bed and everything will make sense again.

I was breathing shakily and while my mind wanted to get it over quickly, my body was seizing up in protest.

I-Im not scared. Just tired. Exhausted. I want some water. I want a bath. Bath. Water. Bath. Water. Food. Bath. Water.

As was chanting to myself about all my mundane needs that had seemingly turned into unattainable luxuries, there was a thing in the dark.

Movement.

A grinding sound, stone on stone.

Then, followed by a glint of scintillating light, that didn’t shine like the woman before, but seemed contained in only a few beams coming from a singular point up ahead.

It’s so pretty. Is this the signal to go ahead? I want to get closer.

I did, because while curiosity may have killed the cat, I wanted to believe that there was somebody else out there who was friendly. Preferably someone who wasn’t on deaths door. Also, I wasn’t a cat.

Would be nice if they were a human. I was unsure how I’d react if the only person I could talk to had scales, a tail and talked seven different tongues I didn’t understand.

Oh well, I’d take whatever was thrown at me at this point.

After breaching the line of death by me-sized arrows, I breathed a sigh of relief as I was not immediately obliterated by an unknown archer from deep within the dark. The light from up closer was coming from some sort of object, like a small, translucent gem. It looked like a gem, but it was also attached to a head, replacing the face of a statue. It barely gave off enough light to shine upon its own upper body and I saw hints of thick stone armor, like a warrior of some sort.

It stood atop an arch, overlooking the now diminished road that led beyond in a casually snaking manner.

No doors. Just an open archway that leads down into darkness. It’s fine. I’m almost there.

As I passed beneath it, I got a better look at the statue. It had long, gangly limbs and was covered head to toe in armor I could only describe as looking like it was forged by holding it in front of the breath of a dragon, blackened and twisted. Dragons weren’t real, of course, but it was a nice image.

Also, I had no idea what style the armor was made in. No emblem, no insignia, nothing. Just blackened rock-like metal.

Then the statue turned to look at me and I froze up head to toe. It was carrying a bow about as large as itself and it was almost twice my size.

Pleasedon’tkillmePleaseohpleasepleaseplease. I rung the bell, I did the thing, you gotta spare me, oh pleheheeease!

It evidently didn’t care about my inner turmoil between making a run for it or just jumping off the cliff and having it end swiftly. The light was shining from the center of its helmet, and precious little reflected off the rest of its armor.

Still, despite the frankly unholy appearance, it didn’t motion for an arrow or any other oversized weapon. In fact, after taking in the sight of a knight making the sound of a dozen rattling tin cans, its eye-face-gem-thing blinked twice and then turned off completely.

AAAAAAH!

I made a hobbling dash through the arch, which by now I realized was the entrance to a building. The temple, hopefully. I Ignored the reappearance of gravestones and half-opened sarcophagi on the way in, I just wanted to have a place that was safe.

I’m done. I’m so done. But I made it.

I’m alive.

Wooh!

Exhilaration. Tired exhilaration. That is what I felt at that moment, as I took my time trotting down wide and dusty steps. I was ready to rejoin civilization, after the absolute nightmare that was the outside world.

Maybe they have some oil lamps in here. Or another angel. Maybe I’ll meet some normal people, some friendly fellows, chums and pals who can tell me what is going on everywhere. I know this isn’t natural, coming back from the dead, eternal night and so forth. This place is huge, there can’t not be a single person living here, right?

The place didn’t smell lived in and the further down I went, the more I noted the lack of signs of any human habitation. No smell of fire, people, chickens and goats, no laughter, clinking of mugs. No, it smelled wet and dusty. The place looked like no one had bothered to dust it in a century or so and as the building opened up into a large circular room, I was disappointed to find no one there.

I could hear my heart crack a little as I explored the inside. There were a few paths that branched off somewhere, but there was no doubt that this is, or rather, was the central temple room. Wide bowls made of bronze and stone layered the floor, some filled with dirt and mud, others filled with shallow water. Here and there I could see the faint glimmering of candles. They weren’t burning, merely their wicks glowing like they had just been snuffed out.

I went up to a bowl and took a sip.

Wait, rainwater? It rains here, Inside a building?

I looked up, but I couldn’t see the ceiling. The temple was way too big to have a ceiling less than ten feet high.

Could still have a hole. Not that I’d be able to see it.

“H-Hello?”

I wasn’t expecting much of a response, after scouring much of the areas adjacent to the wall and finding not so much as a single person. My voice still sounded like a rat sliding down a cheese grater, but I was getting used to speaking single word sentences again. Overall, I was tired, but feeling better than before. Thanks to the angel-lady most likely. Bless her a hundred times over.

“Greetings.” A rumbling voice echoed out, somewhere around the center of the large chamber.

“Huh?” Who was that?

“Hrmpf.” The voice said once more.

Well, wasn’t that an exchange for the ages. But there’s someone here after all! They probably just didn’t see me, with the darkness and all.

I put myself into my best diplomatic mindset, which was to say that I suppressed crying out in joy at the sound of another person’s voice.

I’m a bit starved for that, all right?

“W-who. Are. You?”

“Glom.”

Yesss! Communication, success! Now I just have to be polite, but resolute in my openness to accept them as a new person. A new friend. Nothing’s gonna get between me and Glom. Nothing!

“C-can. I. Come. Closer? I’m. Friendly.”

The person made another “Hrmph”-like sound, which I interpreted as a consent, of a sort.

I took a few steps closer, roughly in the direction where the voice was coming from. It was emanating from the center of the room, where the wide bowls were set closer and closer to each other. The base of the room elevated slightly towards the middle, where anyone would expect the idol of worship to be located.

Maybe they’re followers of our gods, too? I know that if I found a temple for my god somewhere, I’d want to stick close. Divine protection is real, of course.

Just the small issue that I couldn’t remember who my gods were.

I came closer, noticing over ten bowls on a larger rock podium, all at differing heights. The one in the middle was a step higher than all others and I could make out a trace of offerings. They were rotted into mud of course, and I saw a worm wiggling inside one of them.

Ew.

“Where? Can’t. See.”

I really wanted to know what they looked like. Going by the voice, they sounded old. Somewhat male-ish. Well-travelled, but not entirely unfamiliar.

“Open thine eyes, worm.”

Staring down at me from the highest offering dish and filling it out entirely, there was a fat, massive toad.

“Before you sits Glom.” It said, not opening its mouth.

“Greetings, little one.”

I fell to my knees and broke down crying.

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