Shadows & Sorcery #49
It’s back! It never went away, of course, but still, let me bid you welcome to the forty-ninth edition of this newsletter we call Shadows & Sorcery!
You’re gonna have a hell of a lot on your plate in the coming days, folks. This week I slightly went mad and wrote a story so long that almost certainly can’t be considered flash fiction, but this is my newsletter and I love my readers, so you’re getting it anyway—for FREE.
You know what else you’re getting for free? The third chapter of The Path of Poison, available to read RIGHT HERE. Check out the first two chapters here and here too…
And watch out because issue FIFTY is coming next week, too, and as a landmark issue it will ALSO be entirely free!
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This week we follow the red wizard Carloman into the Cavern of the Saints, we got list in the midst of the Lunar Wilderness, we descend far into the Frozen Depths, we learn all about the strange cult of the Nameless Shadows, and we hear tale about the mysterious Shadow of the Pilgrim…
Cavern of the Saints
The tension of last night's meeting hadn't left Carloman's mind. Fears had come to a head, and things were said that, perhaps, should have been withheld on the wizard's part. But the danger was real, time was of the essence--a soul was in peril, and he had made sure they all knew.
It seems that a few months ago in the city-state of Minosmir, Stavo, the bookish son of a baron, one Ser Kistos, had become intensely fascinated with some ancient site in the south-eastern hills. Scattered about the region's range of hills were dozens of curious tombs that the folk who came to inhabit the area took to be divine ancestor Heroes, and formed a popular cult surrounding them. The noble families claim to hold some spiritual connection with specific tombs, but alas, the warrior ancestor-god of this family was a poor fit for the quiet, unassuming young man, and so his elders had simply taken it as a blessing he that he was interested in a Hero of his own, as well as the outdoors.
But unbeknownst to Ser Kistos, the site the lad had been spending so much time in was no Hero's grave, and when he vanished, his father had spared no expense in procuring expert help in finding him. A guardswoman named Kama, whom it seemed Stavo was involved with (and rather seriously at that), had brought the issue to the father. Stavo, she said, had mentioned something in passing, something he referred to as "the cavern of the saints". None of the shamans who speak with dead Heroes across Minosmir could give an answer for it, and so it fell to a wandering wizard in red, with a silver-gold beard from far off Voerlund, to sort the problem out.
Carloman had begun to think his trip to Minosmir, in search of rare reagents, was in truth the subtle suggestion of divine forces who saw disaster about strike. He was glad to answer the call, as when the term "cavern of the saints" was said to him, alarm bells rang in his head. A night spent consulting his personal grimoire, a small but thickly bound little tome, confirmed his suspicions. An old nest of Gnostics, the kind of which can be found in many deep, lightless caves across the known world. And this poor lad had stumbled across one, and had been seduced or cowed into worship of whatever malignant things dwelt within.
When Carloman had finally blurted out the dire nature of the situation in a meeting with the baron and the guardswoman, he had a hard time talking Ser Kistos down. The man, a stout fellow with oak skin and great ruddy-brown moustache, had almost flown out the door and into the wilds. But it was magic they were up against, warned Carloman, a sorcery of darkness in which they would be at the greatest disadvantage. They needed, he explained at great length, symbols of their unbreakable connection to Stavo--the bond of family, and love. Carloman had made Kama admit it before Ser Kistos, who was unsure of the girl, but this would, he supposed, be a good test of her character.
Ser Kistos had taken with him the family signet ring, it was a symbol of authority, and of the family, and something that Ser Kistos personally vowed would be set upon his son's finger one day. Kama took with her a bundle of well-worn love letters wrapped in dark blue thread, written and slipped to her during posting changes by the young man. Magic was very much a situational thing, Carloman had said as best he could in the common Merchant's Tongue, himself unfamiliar with Minosmirii. Power waxes and wanes with every moment and movement, things must be prepared and many more things taken into consideration. Once they were inside that cavern, they would have only what they brought in with them. The dark, and what dwelt in it, was not theirs, and would brook them no quarter.
They had to crawl through several sections, and crouch awkwardly in others. Most people, Carloman believed, knew the dangers of the dark, but couldn't really put words to it. The soul remembers things, of a time before light, and it stays with one throughout many lifetimes. The fact that Kama was likely feeling that deepest of instincts right now, and was still pushing forth as much as she was, more than made her worthy in the wizard's eyes.
Carloman had set a small orange gem into the head of his finely carved staff, which provided a warm, steady illumination, while Kama had prepared several torches whose blistering radiance was helped along with some arcane words the wizard imparted to her. Ser Kistos was having a bit of a hard time behind them, unused to this kind of travel. Carloman was a somewhat well-fed fellow, he had to admit, but the noble demanded short stops more than the wizard liked. But for all that, part of him was glad the he wasn't feeling the building atmosphere of dread.
They began to come across signs of Stavo. Piles of small stones removed from passages, a discarded coat, an empty pack, boots left in the middle of a cave tunnel. He wasn't sure the others had gotten the implication, but it sent a vile a feeling down into Carloman's stomach. That was the sign of someone who didn't intend to come back out.
Finally, after a series of small drops, Kama's torch fell upon a ragged rock opening. The darkness behind them was absolute, but what lay ahead through that aperture seemed as if part of the world had simply ceased to exist. It was quite possible, in Carloman's mind, it had. He took the lead now, and called Ser Kistos up to his side. He spoke to them both now, and asked them merely to set their minds upon Stavo, on getting back this person they both held so dearly, think of his safe return, and of nothing else. They are being watched and probed every moment for points of entry into their minds, and their souls.
The cavern itself, Carloman was frankly shocked to learn, wasn't that big. Immediately upon entrance, Kama cast two torches to either side of them and hit actual solid walls. Those walls, however, were stepped, and Carloman couldn't help but investigate. He approached the left side with his staff thrust upward, and the light from its gem fell upon several figures, seated with their legs crossed, very much dead, desiccated, dry, with mouths having fallen open in silent agony and terror. He guessed the chamber walls were lined with them. The cavern saints. Ancient gnostics who'd taken to a lightless place to commune with whatever nameless evil promised them salvation from the world of matter, or promised power, or protection from wrath. Saints of dark that called out to lonely souls to join them.
They only stepped in a little further before a voice reached their ears. In the small circle of light, Kama and Ser Kistos looked to each other, and then to Carloman. It was Stavos. The wizard took a deep breath, and strode forward towards the voice, the others in tow. He would handle whatever may walk here, they would save the boy.
"I worship you, I worship you, please, I worship you..." His voice was weak, rasping. He was on his knees, prostrated on the ground. "I worship...I worship you, I worship you!" He seemed to sob between his chanting.
"Stavo?"
"Son?"
He shot up, his head looked sightlessly back, he raised and began to hold a trembling arm back towards the voices of Kama and his father. But something shuddered through him, and he clenched his fast and fell back down.
"We must worship, we must worship, gods forgive me, I worship you, I give my soul to-" Carloman swung his staff into the boy's side before he could finish. Kama jumped forth, but Carloman's amber eyes flashed in the darkness. She and Ser Kistos ran to him, and helped him up. He was completely naked, his clay-red skin seemed paled somehow, and rent with several small wounds. His clothing surrounded him. Carloman undid his great red cloak and draped it around Stavo.
There was, then, a rumbling in the air. Not quite a growl as from a throat, and not quite the sound of thunder, but steady, unfathomably deep, and it grew as if speeding towards them from a far distance. Like a wind that threatened to break into a violent gale. Carloman gazed upwards. The cavern walls might have been relatively close, but the ceiling wasn't. It was vast in the way dark places seem larger than they appear to be, but he knew in this case that sensation was warranted. This place had not only been bereft of light for potential millennia, but it was actively used to call down the gaze what dwelt beyond. There was a point above where an elemental evil older than the world was looking down, and Carloman met its gaze.
The wizard took the torch from Kama and without breaking the lock of his eyes upon the vile vastness above, set his staff under his arm and reached into a pouch, removing a small handful of extremely rare and extremely potent fiery reagent, bought onlt a few days before. It was going to a good cause. He felt it all line up, and was pleased. He spoke a charm of making as he sprinkled the fine powder into the open flame. It sputtered and hissed, its tongues leapt, and with a shout of an arcane word he thrust his staff into the earth and the torch into the air, and great streak of clean fire shot into the shadows as the wood was consumed.
Stavo gasped and lurched upright half onto his feet as the light flared. In the fraction of stillness, something spoke. They weren't words, not in the sense that Kama and Ser Kistos knew them, but they were emanations that made the oldest parts of their souls cower.
"Don't listen to it, don't give it any power over you," spat Carloman as he waved his staff in a wide arc, the light staining the ground. Kama was speaking to Stavo. She was saying how she'd read his letters over and over every night. Ser Kistos held his son up and told him in no uncertain terms that this signet ring was going to him whether he liked it or not. Tears streamed down Stavo's face.
Carloman bade them take him out of the cavern now, and don't look back. He didn't say so, but he felt that whatever Stavos had been supplicating was making itself known, and there was a sensation like a colossal weight slowly beginning to envelope the wizard from afar. It knew exactly who was the threat here.
"You have no power over me, I am free, I am divested of dark," muttered the wizard with a terrible rage under his breath. The demon, or stars forbid, Aeon, that sent this tendril of dread down now had caused countless souls to suffer torment and slavery in the dark beyond the world, and would do so until the material realm held all free spirits in its bounds. Kama and Kistos could never know just what it was that was clawing at their backs at this very instant.
"Great powers of the earth, if you can hear in this place, these souls need your guiding wings!" Carloman held up two crossed fingers in a motion of a binding. Several seconds past. Carloman's chest fluttered with a rush of anxiety. But his call was returned. Something, some power from the healthy land beyond risked itself and beat back the grasp of that which had been closing in upon the trio. The wizard thought, perhaps, the flash of a shimmering humanoid image was in the air, in his staff's light, clad in curious raiment, and with a mighty hammer swung in a fine arc. A Hero perhaps, battling an ancient nemesis. Carloman watched as he stumbled back beyond the cavern entrance with the others, and into a lesser deep.
The next day, Carloman sat in the meeting chamber of Baron Kistos. The noble was mulling over a tall mug of drink. Sitting in a chair by a window was Kama, in full guard's regalia. The magician spoke.
"Stavo seems stable, but he is fragile. He's sleeping, and I've done all I can to ensure his dreams are light and untroubled. I will give my recipe to the nurse, for he may need it in the years to come."
"Years to come?" The Baron seemed shocked. Carloman sighed.
"I can't even begin to tell you what happened to him. This will last. The knowledge of it all is...dangerous to have. You both saw more than anyone ever should, and he saw more than that. You must understand that it is imperative you forgot what happened in there. Do not have these thoughts in your head. Leave it behind you. It is done. It is sealed away." They looked to each other, unsure, and back to Carloman, who simply answered with a pleading glare.
"So be it," grumbled Kistos, "but what do we tell Stavo?"
"Well, firstly, Kama? Your orders are to sit by his side. Talk to him. Hold his hand. He needs you there. Baron, see to it with your guard commander she is undisturbed. However long it takes. Then, when he does come to properly, I will need to have a very long talk with him. Alone. So, I'll need to stay close, Baron."
"It will be done," he said as he waved his hand, a note of slight exasperation tinging his tone.
"But he'll be okay, sir?" asked Kama. She met Carloman with a steely gaze. Her tone was less concern for Stavo and more questioning of the wizard, despite her decorum.
"I think he will. But I won't lie, this is a delicate time, he won't be the same afterwards. That was closer than even I'd like to admit. Oh, also, I would recommend a thorough search of his quarters to dispose of anything in reference to the cavern, or...anything else odd. I'll help with it. I know what to look for."
"And what do we do with the cavern? Block it up, right?" said Kama, clear disgust in her voice.
"Forever," said the wizard.
"Aye, aye...will that be all, Carloman?" Weight hung on the Baron's brow. Kama looked angry.
"Yes, for now. I'll, ah, check in on him once more, but then Kama should be with him." He went to leave. His hand was on the door handle when he turned back. "And by the way..." They both looked to him with weary eyes. "You both did so well in there. Really. Stavo is blessed to have such strong souls by his side."
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