Framework of the Frontier, Sain Artwell [read me a book .TXT] 📗

Aaargh! Sul I am sorry. Teacher, if I survive, please forgive me too. Ember let out a deep sigh that did not bring relief.

Will pursed his lips in a frown. “So, it’s another dud, huh?”

“Nu-uh. The rings, though a little rusty, are fine. I’m not an expert on the arcane architecture of Iramian enchantments, but these are similar to the armored anklets.” Ember lifted larger mithril rings, which she had inspected earlier. The magical patterns within them were nearly identical.

To confirm her suspicions, Ember slipped a ring on her index finger and fed the item her magic. The band tightened to fit her finger, hummed gently, and began to unfold. Dark azure plates of gold lined mithril covered her from fingertip to shoulder and interlocked seamlessly like a centipede’s carapace. It was amazingly thin — a perfect skin-fit.

“Damn, that’s cool. Tell me the revolver works too.” Will handed her the relic’s handle.

Ember took the ring off, shaking her head with an apologetic frown. “Sorry Will, that one is broken.”

“Rings of flimsy armour, an extradimensional flask containing alcoholic brew, and a bardsong imprisoned in a crystal… You spoke of great powers being contained within these halls, not broken toys.” Rulu rubbed a tiny crystal gently.

An echo of an ancient song resonated from within. From the crystal flickered outward an illusory projection of a tall Iram-borne man in loose robes sitting amidst a crowd, plucking the strings of an ancient instrument lost in time. It was an up-beat song with the liveliness of a faun folk dance and the emotions of a heavy dragon waltz. Very catchy, but Rulu did not look satisfied.

“I hope the sceptre isn’t broken too. Can I have a look at the rings?” Will held his hand out and Ember passed them to him.

Ember gave Rulu an apologetic look. “You’re right. These are nick nacks, but the true price is not ancient relics or weapons, which probably shouldn’t even be here. Although, the flask is quite a find. They are highly sought after by water witches and their like. Rather the Maze itself is the price.”

“What a miserable price it is.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s the history of it and… And there are secrets too, according to the manuscripts—”

“Pah. Pah, I say! No one cares about the stories of the defeated and dead. It is evident the men of Iram knew luxury, but did they know anything of might?” Rulu’s voice grew sharper. She kicked a broken crystal off the ledge.

Ember frowned. She had wanted to keep it. “Could you stop it? You can’t give up yet. Most of our current magic is based on the wizardry of Iram. They had great weapons too.”

“Calm down girls. If it makes you feel better, I came here to risk my life and sanity for a dumb ass fetch quest.” Will chuckled wryly. “Fuck, what the hell has my life become… Aaaah, well. Still a few nick-nacks to go through. Look at this. An eye. Maybe it shoots laser beams or something?”

He dug a white crystal eye from its hollowed socket. When he rubbed off the gooey stuff, William let out a sudden gasp. Swaying, he bumped his head on the low ceiling of the tiny defensible alcove, which the group had set up camp in to wait for a golem.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Ember helped steady him.

Will blinked his eyes forcibly with his face pinched in a nauseous expression. “No, I’m fine. The eye is a little disorienting. I can see through it.”

“An eye?” Rulu’s voice stirred with cautious excitement as she crawled up to him, invading Will’s lap. “Give it to me. I call that treasure mine.”

“Sure, but—”

“Ha!” She snatched it, swaying unsteadily as she turned it around, grinning maniacally. “A third eye. Ohhh…” Rulu turned it to her face and stared at it intently. “This will do, for now.”

“Alright, let’s divvy up the rest of the loot,” Will said.

Ember picked the anklets and William the rings, while they kept the song crystal and flask as something to share after leaving the dungeon. It wasn’t a bad haul. Many adventurers had lost their lives for less. Ember knew that she should consider herself lucky for losing only a sword — precious though it may have been.

And yet, no matter how she tried to look at the positive side, dreadful thoughts kept creeping in. So this is it, the Primordial Maze, the labyrinth that changes destinies. Is this going to change my life? Is this even the place?

Thus far, the artefacts they had discovered suggested that the place was simply a dungeon from the Golden Age of Iram. Only the impossibly intricate magic of the door implied otherwise. Although, the men of Iram did wield extradimensional magics too, as was proven by the flask.

I hope I didn’t drag Will and Rulu into some unmarked grave. The thought tightened her chest with chains of shame.

She wasn’t the only one feeling tense.

Will’s easy if often a little wry smile was gone. His gaze, when it met hers, was a distant one. Ember reached out to take this hand and try to encourage him, but even that only earned her a brief forced grin.

Rulu on the other hand took their situation surprisingly well. Yes, she was her irritable and twitchy self with a tone that was a bit sharper than it had to be, but otherwise she seemed calm. It’s like pain and a possibility of death were nothing new to her. Sometimes, when she let her guard down, Ember could see a deep sorrow.

Ember’s ears perked up at the distant thumps of heavy stone feet. “I hear a golem.”

“Ready Rulu?” William activated the rings, covering his muscular arms in glistening plates of mithril.

Rulu looked at him, nodding. “I have recovered enough.”

There were trickles of dried blood on her