Lorin
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Chapter 8: The Chambers of Crushing
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 08:10:43 +0000 UTCShrines of overlapping, recycled metal lined the walls. There seemed to be a theme to the corridors. Shrines led to something cool, nothing led to something not so cool, and portraits led to offices of the depicted officers.
Now that I knew how the vial ammo looked, it was clear that the small shrines were made of the same brass-like material. They all bore marks of errors as if hand-made, none looked the same as the other.
I berated myself for not inspecting the runes earlier. But as with many other things, doing so only left me with more questions.
Bullet altar
Description: Each bullet has a purpose, each shell of vial ammunition a life to take. Soldiers of the common troops received one bullet each to fell enemy blessed. Those who did so, were rewarded with another. Only the most skilled could retrieve enough of their casings to build a shrine. Eternally etching their deeds into the annals of time.
The shells weighing my satchel down suddenly felt a whole lot more valuable. I patted it with a content smile on my face.
The end of the hallway was approaching rapidly. I could make out the rough shapes of a large gate and two looming statues in the distance. I sauntered onward, the statues looked to be guarding the gate, not from people entering, but from people leaving.
Creepy.
“They won’t come to life or anything, right?” I asked.
“How should I know?” Sera answered. “Do you intend to keep asking me nonsense?”
I smiled back at her, “Some time, you’re bound to know something I don’t.”
“This is not that time,” she shot back.
I shrugged, it just felt reassuring to ask her things, despite her fatal lack of any useful knowledge. We hadn’t been together long, but I was already beginning to lean on her presence like a crutch.
The statues were much taller than the jailor had been. If I had to guess, I’d peg them as five meters tall or somewhere around there. They both held a stone rifle with a long bayonet attached to a mount below the mouth of the barrel. Conical helmets clad their heads. They connected to large mouthpieces that covered their lower faces, obscuring everything but their cold, stone eyes.
I let the comfortable weight of Silent Scream rest in my hand as I tightened my grip around it. I stepped forth with my breath held.
Please don’t come to life. Please don’t come to life. Please…
They didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief and scurried to the door. I gave it a slight pull, it didn’t budge. There was no lock. I just wasn’t strong enough to push it open, not even with burst strengthening me.
I backed away far enough that I could study the enormity of the gate, then sighed and rubbed my face. Things had a way of never working out.
There had to be a way out, I just hadn’t found it yet. Maybe I missed something in the previous corridors, or maybe there was something in the remaining three that I’d yet to discover.
Crimson runes formed in the corner of my eye.
Guardian of the Crushing
Description: Once lifeless, the statue was brought to life by a perverse misuse of magic. Its sole purpose is to guard the Chamber of Crushing from what scourge lay within. Only the guardians can pull the gates open.
I hummed, “Do I count as the scourge lying within?”
Sera didn’t answer, she was already fed up with my questions. Still, teasing her felt nice. Like having a sibling again. Albeit a sibling you shared a body with.
I put my hand on the statue and let magic flow through, pushing it into the statue. The torrent of raged didn’t seize, nor did it listen to my wants, not even as it drained me completely dry.
The statue trembled to life, as a light crawled from my hand to its eyes.
With slow, powerful movements it raised the arm from its side. Pieces of stone ground to dust and fell to the floor, revealing large cracks lining its limbs. It wouldn’t last much longer. It turned, and walked to the gate with thundering steps. It stopped with its hand resting on the smooth surface of the gargantuan door.
“What a greedy bastard… ” I slumped down on the floor, panting.
Sera kept sulking.
“The veil says the statues were built to guard the insides of these chambers. Any idea as to why something was built to keep you inside?” I asked.
“Did you ever stop to think that I, might not be the scourge described?” she muttered. “… But the primary reason for the golems is probably that I threatened to kill each and every one of the bastards who imprisoned me if I ever got loose.”
Makes sense.
“Who were they?”
“People of import to the layered Empire. They were all mad long before the scourge took root. You have seen one of them gloriously depicted on a painting. Commander Seluvis of the insufferable Sigil.”
“You should be thankful to her. Without her dagger we wouldn’t have a way to communicate,” I joked.
She rolled her eyes, “Another reason altogether to loathe her. Even after my escape she helps you pester me.”
“Is my company really that bad?”
“Yes. But I am thankful for the dagger. I look forward to the day when we use it to slit her throat. A poetic death.”
I shivered, she had a vicious side to her that I often forgot. We spent so much time together that it was easy to forget the state in which I found her.
I mulled over her words and curled up against the wall. I splurged, despite knowing better, and ate another can of food. This one had some sort of conserved meat. Just like the last, it tasted as if made by angels.
I dozed off until I felt magic stir within me once more. After a few stretches and yawns I repeated the process of injecting magic into the other statue. It creaked to life, mirroring its twin. Their bodies moved in perfect symmetry while pushing the door open. The gate roared as it scraped open against. Finally, for the first time in weeks, I stepped outside.
I shielded my eyes from the bright light, glancing through my splayed fingers. From where I stood, far above the ground level, I had a great view of everything.
Haphazardly placed buildings of a dark stone stretched to the horizon, or in this case the mountainous walls encapsulating the city. Throughout it all, snaking alleyways created an urban labyrinth.
The buildings were cracked and broken. Layers of colourful stone and metal intermixed to cover up the faulty roofs and foundations. They lacked finesse, yet there was something elegant about the simplicity of it all. Like a favela.
The scene bathed in the surgical glow of stalagmite crystals lining the roof far above. Just barely, I could make out shapes of stairs leading up, down, and through man made caves lining the walls.
“Breathtaking,” I whispered. And unlike anything I had ever seen. The city was practically entombed, bringing a whole new meaning to the ’underworld’.
“It really is,” Sera agreed, a hint of nostalgia leaking through, ”It feels good to be home.”
I descended the winding staircase and turned to get a better look of what had been my home for weeks; the Chambers of Crushing.
To describe it as eerie would be generous.
The building looked older than any of the ones down below, yet it bore no signs of repair. A rust coloured moss grew and filled the gaps where cracks threatened to undermine the building’s solidity. The building looked as if carved from the wall, and reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Serpentine creatures had been engraved into the stone behemoth. Masking the entirety of its surface with coiling snakes. They looked to be devouring each other in an endless mess of limbs. I couldn’t tell where one began, and the other ended. It was all an awfully cohesive mess.
“The Chambers of Crushing,” I tasted the words on my tongue. Looking at the snakes coiling around each other it made sense.
My steps smattered softly against the steps. Their echoes stretched across the entire city like a rolling wave. I hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Things were finally looking up. Now all I needed was to find a way out.
I whistled as I danced down. Even Sera seemed to be in a good mood. I caught glimpses of her smile whenever the dagger swayed into sight. Keeping it in a thread around my neck was the least cumbersome method I had found. Summoning it took too long if I was caught by surprise. I just had to grit my teeth and endure random prickles until I found a durable jacket or something.
Down below, the sound of hurried footsteps bounced through the alleys. My eyes hardened as I hurried down the remaining steps and pressed myself against the closest wall. I made myself small and peeked around the corner.
A person rushed down the street heading straight toward me. Long fluttering hair the color of night trailed graciously behind her. She flailed her arms wildly around her. I bet she would have been cute if she had eyes. She didn’t see me, obviously. I cringed while stared into her maggot infested eye-sockets. Blood trailed down her face like tears. Hushed moans escaped her sewn shut lips.
I sucked my teeth and pulled Silent scream loose. I wired the thread around my hand with a deep breath, steeled myself, and stepped into the street. Silently.
Silent as a cat, I snuck toward the sprinting ghoul of a woman, she looked oddly familiar. I couldn’t place her though. Not that it mattered. When she got close enough, I threw a kick at her feet, sending her face first into the ground. Her nose crunched and sent a spray of blood my way.
She recovered quickly, and clawed herself to her feet. Her breath grew ragged as she turned to run away.
Only, there was a building blocking her path.
She barrelled into it headfirst, painting the dark stone red. Her nose the brush, the city her canvas.
She sobbed, cradling her face with her hands.
I blinked in surprise, “What the hell…?”
She whipped her head in my direction, and pointed to her mouth while mumbling something incoherent. I circled her while keeping my distance.
I glanced down at Sera and whispered, “Is this a trick to make me feel sorry for her?”
“No,” she whispered back.
“Then what the hell is she?”
“Blessed.”
I staggered in surprise. She’s human… What happened to her?
“I thought I was alone here?!” I protested.
She sighed, and grumbled, “So did I. If only I held out…”
I scoffed, but let the insult slide. I deserved it.
If others got dragged here, then Joanna and the kids probably did too. That changed things. I needed information.
“Stay very fucking still … or I’ll gut you,” I growled at the blinded woman, and pressed the dagger against her stomach. The tip drew a line of blood.
She froze. A growing dark stain spread down her legs and flowed to the ground. I felt bad about scaring her, but in my defence, she didn’t look very trustworthy with her whole get-up.
I circled her, dragging the dagger against her body; hard enough that she felt it, but not hard enough that it cut into her. I pulled her arms behind her back, and tied them using a thread of magic. She didn’t feel them until I made them manifest physically. She squirmed, but quickly realized it wouldn’t lead to anything. Her shoulders slumped down, muffled sobs leaking out from her haphazardly sewn lips.
