They'd scarcely made it twenty steps, not even a quarter of the way up to the next balcony, before they began to hear noises overhead. The sound of rustling pages and shifting books reached Hulbard's ears just as Quintus paused in his tracks. They fell in around the Sorcerer, all craning to peer upwards. The next balcony was still almost forty feet above them and at an angle to where they stood, making it hard to make anything out up there. It was next to the brazier blazing on that platform that Hulbard first glimpsed movement.
A figure in robes similar to the guide they'd just left behind stepped into the dancing orange glow above and stare down at them, half lost between the towering stacks of books surrounding the brazier. Any features they may have had were lost within the deep folds of a threadbare hood, but Hulbard saw it look down at them for a long second before glancing further up the tower. After a long second of stillness, the figure lifted an arm to reveal a book open in one hand. Its voluminous sleeve fell back to reveal a bony, pale arm beneath, but otherwise, it was impossible to make out anything about the form beneath those faded robes.
Tiny pinpricks of gold light faded into life around the figure, so hazy and indistinct at first that Hulbard thought he might be imagining them until they solidified in flickering, ember bright orbs of Sorcerous energy suspended in thin air. There was no rhyme or reason that he could see to their placement, but Hulbard knew that if anyone could fathom them, it wouldn't be him. Instead, he watched as a thin thread of that same light appeared between those motes of unearthly light, linking them all together to create a golden net of light hanging before the figure in a matter of seconds.
Quintus grabbed Skye by her shoulder and wheeled her around in front of him before ducking behind the startled girl.
"Should we be letting it do that?" Hulbard asked quietly.
Lightning snapped and spat across the knuckles of his right gauntlet as he closed his fingers into a tight fist.
"Probably not," Quintus replied.
"Say no more," Hulbard stepped forward and lifted his right arm.
Levelling his fist fist at the platform overhead, he felt the gemstones embedded into his armour surge into life. Orange lightning rippled across his knuckles, dancing between the prongs set to either side of them. The air around him hummed with building power as he directed all that energy down the length of his tingling arm. Unnatural warmth bled into his flesh and made his skin crawl as Hulbard braced himself and took aim, using the entire length of his arm as a sight.
He sent a bolt of golden light scything upwards with a resounding 'SNAP!' that split the air like thunder. For an instant, the tower interior was lit by a flash of all illuminating light. It was hard to aim a shot from the armour at the best of times though, and this time it veered wildly to one side and struck the wall of the tower almost a dozen feet below his target with an explosive crunch. An arrow from Knox whistled past his ear, but Hulbard saw it go wide as well just before he heard the distinctive thud of Semekt's crossbow, though he had no idea where her bolt ended up.
Light bled from the citrine gem at his wrist as Hulbard adjusted, aiming higher, and fired again. This time, his aim was true. The net in front of the robed figure flared, burning ember bright for a heartbeat as it absorbed the impact of his shot without wavering. The central bolt struck that net and dissipated across it while forks of that same energy stabbed outwards and speared into the nearby towers of books. They exploded under the impact, flinging flaming books in every direction and spraying charred pages through the air.
His right hand was already starting to cramp up and Hulbard quickly shook it out before taking aim again with a determined frown. If one bolt of lightning wouldn't do it, then a barrage would. That was when two of the golden motes of light suspended in the air around the figure suddenly flared bright enough to cast grotesque shadows across the walls. Two balls of fire, each as big as his head, erupted from those glowing orbs of light to plunge towards them in the blink of an eye. Hulbard had just enough time to flinch before they struck an invisible shield mere feet overhead with all the force of falling stars.
The blast rattled him to his bones and as the flames roared across their shield, he half slipped on a step and came crashing down to one knee. He looked up in time to see a sight that made his breath catch in his throat. Skye stood ahead of them with her arms thrown wide. Quintus stood by her side, his hands weaving wild shapes in the air, his face a mask of furious concentration. And above them, the tower was alive with the elements. From multiple points at once up the entire length of the tower, he saw projectiles falling towards them. Other Sorcerer's had clearly joined the first from every level in the building. Blue and red lightning slashed into Skye's shield in the blink of an eye, split and sheared sideways to crawl across the stone on all sides and leave scorched burn marks in their wake.
Steam from their impacts was still swirling into the air when Skye's transparent bubble was engulfed by a sea of flame, roaring loud enough to fill Hulbard's senses to the brim. Molten magma sprayed in every direction, setting nearby bookcases aflame in an instant. The flames had just cleared when several spears of ice crashed against the shield mere feet from Skye's face. They shattered with a clatter that echoed through every inch of the tower and melted away into thin air before they could even hit the staircase. The cacophonous crescendo of noise rolled around the entire tower from the ground floor to the last, knocking all sense from Hulbard's mind. He could scarcely glimpse the next incoming attack, let alone try to plan against it.
Knox was standing nearby, his bow forgotten as he stared, dumbfounded, up into that crushing display of power.
Know was standing nearby but he was utterly frozen in place, staring upwards with a dumbfounded expression at the crushing display of power. Trastgor was hunkered down with his back against the wall and his shield raised through nothing more than sheer instinct, his eyes wide. Semekt was still working methodically to reload her crossbow while Shankhill cowered behind her. They were getting pulverised. Worse, they were doing nothing about it. Hulbard's fingers curled in a fist and the gem set into his bracer glowed with fresh life as he shoved himself back upright. He brought his fist to bear, but he scarcely knew what to aim for anymore. That was when Quintus flung his arms forward with a snarl, his fingers curled into claws, and he stunned them all.
A torrent of purple fire tinged with midnight black edges roared into life between his hands and bellowed across the space between them and the closest platform with an all consuming roar. The great torrent of flame engulfed the balcony above. It reduced dozens of books to ash in an instant and sent the brazier tumbling into the gulf below. When the billowing fire died, leaving the stone wreathed in choking smoke, the Sorcerer still stood where it had been a moment before. The figure hadn't moved an inch. It still held the book high in one bony hand with its head tilted down towards its pages as if idly reading through a familiar passage.
"Forward!" Quintus snarled.
Clapping a hand down on Skye's shoulder, he forced her up the steps. Hulbard loosed his third bolt of crackling lightning skywards. It hit its mark but met its end on that glittering web of golden light above. The entire tower shook to its very core as they were pounded by projectiles every step of the way. At any second, he expected the shield above them to falter, to snap and fade in the blink of an eye; all the notice he'd get before they were obliterated by a gout of searing fire.
As they marched, his eyes were drawn back to Quintus. He saw a spike of ethereal, luminous purple energy form above his upturned hand and, with a bestial growl, the old man flung it towards the balcony overhead. Instead of striking that golden shield, though, it sliced into the stone beneath. Dragging back his hand, Hulbard saw Sorcerous purple chain blaze into life in Quintus' iron grip. With a flick of his wrist and a barked command, the blade buried in the stone platform above exploded with a sharp crack that sprayed rubble and dust in all directions.
The entire platform split apart in the blink of an eye and fell away from the staircase with a dull rumble. The rubble plunged into the abyss between them and took the Sorcerer with it. They made no sound as they fell from view and any impact below that Hulbard might have heard was lost beneath the onslaught from on high. At the same time, Quintus brought his staff to bear and the sapphire at its tip flared. A lance of sizzling blue light stabbed upwards, leaving burning embers in its wake where it set the air itself alight. Hulbard didn't see where the lance went, didn't even know what Quintus was aiming for, but all he knew was that instead of lessening, the spells raining down on them intensified tenfold.
Yet higher and higher they climbed against the avalanche of elemental spells. Lances of blue light stabbed upwards into all that madness, but they looked like drops of rain against a tidal wave. It wasn't long before Hulbard realised that not all the Sorceries plunging down the tower were directed at them; he saw several bolts of lightning strike the steps between them and the next balcony. These were followed by great ice spears that crunched into the stone before being melted away by great chunks of molten magma. The steps began to melt under the bombardment, sizzling and deforming before his eyes in a matter of seconds until they looked like slag from a furnace.
Too dazed by the cacophony of spells crashing against the shield above them to do much more than march blindly into the whirling chaos. He set his sights on Skye as she was driven ahead with Quintus' free hand on her shoulder. That was how he saw her beginning to falter. The young girl began to flinch and wince with every new impact on the shield above them. With her arms spread wide and her brow bathed in cold sweat, she was forced to march higher and higher with Quintus at her back.
That was when a great hunk of stone fell from the gloom above. Easily both taller and wider than Hulbard, it hummed through the emptiness with all the ponderous but unstoppable power of a glacier. It struck the staircase ahead of them and smashed clean through it with a thunderous boom that rocked Hulbard to the very marrow of his bones and left them all gaping at the destruction left in its wake. The gap that slab of stone had created was easily ten feet wide and the other side was a lot higher than theirs. None of them were going to make a jump like that.
Knox leapt towards Quintus, grabbed the old man by the arm and screamed something into his ear that Hulbard couldn't hear. The hunters other hand snapped out, clapped down on Skye's shoulder and halted her mindless advance. Dragging her back a step, he shoved her Master down the steps and into Trastgor's waiting arms. The Kurgal practically hauled the old man off his feet while Knox pulled on Skye's arm. She yelled something at him and he leaned close to catch the words. He barked something back, swung his bow to bear and shot up the tower as she began a slow retreat down the staircase. Step by step, they clambered back down the scarred stone towards the first library with death raining down around them every step of the way; lightning of every hue skewered the darkness alongside short bursts of fire and chunks of ice formed into blades.
Hulbard's every instinct screamed at him to race ahead, to chance a mad dash down the staircase to the safety of that library waiting below, but he fought against them with every ounce of willpower he had left to him. Instead, he stood next to Knox in their retreat, firing blind towards the upper levels of the tower and holding his shield high. If Skye's bubble failed, it would be their last line of defence against the deluge of Sorceries streaming down the tower and, while he had no idea how effective it would be, it was better than nothing.
Before he knew it, the library entrance was at their backs and he dashed through. A stack of books just inside exploded as a stray bolt of lightning blew them to flaming shreds. Hulbard barrelled through them and practically flung himself behind a heavy writing desk. Knox vaulted it a second later to land by his side, eyes wide and wild. Peering over it, he saw Quintus stagger into the room with Skye by his side. Her bubble finally dissolved as another bolt of iridescent lightning tore at the stonework beyond the entrance, showering chips of stone across the carpeted floor and leaving a smouldering crater behind in its wake.
Quintus looked ready to collapse, his skin pale and waxy, brow bathed in sweat. Pressing himself against the archway, he used it for shelter as more spells struck the stone outside. The second Skye stumbled into the safety of the room, she clutched her stomach, doubled over and noisily vomited on the floor. She managed to tremulously straighten up and drag a hand through her sweat drenched hair before jerking violently as fresh lightning danced across the opening with a sizzling crackle. It split and lanced into the room, narrowed missing the apprentice and striking a chair instead. The piece of furniture practically exploded into flame and Shankhill, the nearest to it, kicked it out onto the balcony beyond with a startled yelp.
Hulbard forced himself upright, took two steps, swept an arm around Skye's waist and dragged her down behind the desk, shielding her with his armoured bulk as splinters rained down around them. Her body went limp in his arms and her head lolled drunkenly against his chest. Catching a glimpse of her eyes, he saw that one was its usual shade of blue while the other was a deep, crimson shade.
Peering back over the desk, he watched as the torrent of elemental magic beyond the archway quickly slowed to a trickle before dying off altogether. A sudden silence descended on the chamber once more, save for their ragged breathing. Knox let out an explosive sigh before smiling incredulously across at Hulbard, who nodded in return, his own breathless smile lost beneath his implacable helm.
"Someone…" Quintus' voice trembled as he rasped the word, "Watch...the fucking...door".
"I watch," Semekt rasped, shouldering her loaded crossbow.
Of them all, only the Dramaskian didn't look ready to collapse. Gasping for breath and leaning heavily on his staff, Quintus hobbled his way across to where Hulbard was hunkered down with his Apprentice. He brought with him a palpable air of power, a charge to the air around him that tickled the hairs on the back of Hulbard's neck. The Sorcerer leaned down over Skye and took her listless head in his hands. He frowned thoughtfully as he stared into her ashen features, tilting her face this way and that until the candlelight caught the crimson gleam of her right eye.
"Skye," his voice was suddenly firm again, "Hey, Skye. Skye, answer me".
She moaned softly in response.
"It's alright," Quintus told her, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. Just try to breathe and focus on my voice. One, two, three…"
He began to count slowly as his long fingers massaged her slender neck. Holding her, Hulbard could do nothing but watch and trust that Quintus knew exactly what he was doing. When the Sorcerer reached the number ten, he started over again and repeated the process another four times before Skye's eyes began to find their focus. They slowly drifted across her Master's face before rolling around the library, as if seeing it for the first time.
"That's right," Quintus said softly, "Come back to me. Come on, you're doing fine".
Drawing in a ragged, wheezing breath, Skye coughed phlegm onto the floor and gagged noisily. Her entire body was wracked with a trembling convulsion strong enough for Hulbard to feel through his armour. Reaching one hand around her shoulder, he drew back her hair so she wouldn't get spit in it, though he wasn't sure she even noticed. It took her another long minute of coughing and spluttering to come around. Dragging a deep breath into her lungs, she exhaled slowly, as tears streaked their way down her cheeks.
"Ugh," she groaned, "Fuck. My head".
"I know," Quintus said before shushing her, "It's okay. You did fine".
Leaning back, he gestured for Hulbard to rise.
"Come on," the warrior said into the girl's ear, "Let's get you back on your feet".
As gently as he could, Hulbard slowly lifted Skye back to her feet. She swayed in his arms and clung to him for another long second before gasping down a wet breath and pushing him away to stand on her own two feet. A part of him was loathe to let her go, but he had no choice. Skye was still hunched at the shoulders, clutching her stomach and weaving from side to side, but she was standing.
"Thanks," she croaked weakly.
"Aye," he nodded before shifting a little uncomfortably in the silence of the room.
Clearing his throat, Hulbard turned his thoughts to more pressing matters.
"We should barricade the entrance," he announced to no one in particular.
"No need," Quintus told him, "We won't be staying here long".
"What do you mean?" Trastgor growled and Hulbard knew the Kurgal had just felt the same fear he had; that the Sorcerer had some other idea up his sleeve that would test all their luck further still.
"Precisely what I just said," the Sorcerer glowered at the Kurgal, "I have already searched these books and our way higher is now blocked. We have no reason to stay here".
"Except to rest," Knox suggested helplessly.
"And rest is exactly what we're going to do, but not here," Quintus told him, his voice a little calmer than when he'd been addressing Trastgor, "We're going back to the entryway. There, we can shelter in the archway at the front doors and rest for a few hours before moving on".
"But we're safe here," Shankhill offered, "The pile of rags outside told us so".
"And if he's wrong?" Hulbard countered sharply.
"Then I'm sure Semekt will give us a heads up in time to barricade the door," Shankhill raised an eyebrow at him.
"Trapping us all in a dead end with an army of Sorcerer's at the door," Trastgor snarled, "I think not!"
"Which is why we're going down to the entryway," Quintus snapped impatiently, "We're safe here. I believe that. But I don't like the idea of our backs against the wall much either. That's why I said we're g-"
"And what if they attack us again on the way down?" Trastgor interrupted him.
"They won't," Quintus growled the words through grit teeth, "Now shut the fuck up and listen! They didn't bother us until we tried to go higher. This part of the library was open to all. Higher wasn't. We're safe from here down. Do you understand?"
Trastgor let out a low bestial growl and took a step forward, shoulders heaving, before Hulbard's hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks. Looking down into the Kurgal's face, he spoke quietly and earnestly.
"Vul dask vo rassa," he said, "Geinst kúraum vo sharí. Pava, yeil vul dask ilde".
We are alive. Let it go for now. Peace, until we are well rested.
Trastgor searched the faceplate of his helm for a long second before shrugging off Hulbard's hand with a snort of disgust and turning away. Spitting on the carpet, the Kurgal shook his head. Hulbard shot Quintus a warning glance before speaking.
"Then, if we're all good to go, we should get out of here," he said evenly. "I could use some sleep".
"I have one thing I need to do first," Quintus told him before marching back across to the entrance.
Semekt was an indistinct shadow coiled in a nearby corner; the crossbow was cradled in her upper set of arms, while her lower were folded across her stomach. The light from the candles scarcely touched her jet black scales, but there was just enough to gleam across her wide, unblinking eyes. Hulbard heard Skye groan and saw her lean back against a bookcase before slumping to the ground with a ragged sigh. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone more tired in his entire life and instinct made him want to go to her, to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. Ignoring those thoughts, he strode after Quintus while his companions exchanged uneasy glances.
"You," the Sorcerer barked towards the brazier, "Still alive?"
"Most certainly," the pile of rags shifted a little, "And, as always, at your disposal. For what it's worth, I am glad to see that you made it back here in one piece. You put on quite a display up there".
Stepping up beside the Sorcerer, Hulbard glanced back the way they'd just come. His gaze raked over the hole punched through the staircase before wandering higher to the crumbling platform Quintus had brought down. Everything beyond the platform they stood on was utterly, eerily still and silent, save for the steam rising from the stone at their feet, filling the air with a sulphurous stench that couldn't quite penetrate his helm.
"Yeah, thanks," Quintus grunted, "I'm glad we could give you a show".
"In my defence, I did warn you," the crackling voice managed to sound a little sheepish, "Your advance was most unexpected but, if I'm honest, quite thrilling. You and your Apprentice do seem quite powerful, but any foray up those stairs was always going to end in one of two ways; retreat or death".
The figure paused for a long second while Quintus glared before continuing, "Apologies. It has been quite some time since I have had any company in this place. It appears I was rambling. Although I feel I was prone to that long before Dalgáhast fell".
"Their Sorcery," Quintus prompted pointedly, "Explain it to me".
"If you insist..." the cloaked figure managed a hoarse sigh, "Reduced to its most fundamental description; the Sorcery practiced in this Library specialises in the physical manifestation of a Sorcerer's Core to create a web like pattern unique to each caster called a Constellation. These can be primed with a number of different spells and incantations prepared in advance for immediate release without the need for lengthy preparation".
"But the physical manifestation of a Core's essence is impossible," Quintus mused with one of his thoughtful frowns, "Or, I guess I should say, we always thought it was at least. The greatest minds of the last few generations have squandered years of their lives in pursuit of that idea and experiments are still being funded to this very day with the same goal in mind. So far, the world beyond these walls has nothing to show for their efforts".
"Yet here you have it," their guide told him as casually as his voice could manage, "Displayed right before your very eyes for all to see".
"It would explain how they were able to use so many spells as fast as they did," Quintus stroked his beard restlessly as his mind worked the idea over.
"Indeed it would," the pile of rags breathed, "But their skills weren't born from thin air either. Each Constellation was, in turn, bound to a tome of the Sorcerer's own making. These books would be filled with every spell they could ever want burned into their maddeningly complex and incomprehensible pages. Only the one who created such a thing could wield the power within it. That is why, when a Sorcerer of this Library performs their Arts, they require a book to fuel their miracles and cataclysms. It is a finely woven balance".
"Their secret?" Quintus pressed, "How do they create these Constellations?"
"With years of intensive study," Rags croaked, "The training to achieve such a feat was...both intensive and extensive, but relied on a dozen processes bound together into a single discipline. More than that, I cannot say, as I never achieved a Constellation of my own".
"Helpful," Quintus grunted.
"The information I offer is helpful to no one anymore," the figure sighed, "Such is my burden to bear. But...if I may ask a question in return? The world beyond these walls. I wish to know of it? Who rules in our stead? What has become of our once great empire?"
"Nothing," the Sorcerer said shortly before turning to his companions, "Come, let's go. I have gotten all I need".
He turned his back on their dismissed guide and retreated back into the first reading room to shake some life back into their company, leaving Hulbard standing there alone save for Semekt and she didn't really count in any case. He saw Rags shoulders hunch defeatedly and spared a glance up the staircase before speaking.
"The world beyond is an ugly place," he said quietly, "Humanity makes up much of it, but we're divided into dozens of small kingdoms set on warring with anything we can get our hands on, including each other. There's no great kings or queens, only petty people doing petty things that those under them have to pay for. Dalághast...well, Dalághast was forgotten. This place is a barely remembered myth and little else".
He saw the shape opposite him perk up a little at that information and thought he heard a raspy sigh somewhere deep in all those rags.
"Even so…" he said, "You would not believe what I would give to walk that world you come from. I would give much to even leave these hallowed halls and walk the gardens beyond without fear of being torn apart. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were not born of this place. Whatever your endeavours, I wish you well in them".
"And I you," Hulbard nodded towards the figure as Quintus swept past him and down the steps with the other in tow.
He fell into step with them without a backward glance and, as they marched back down the staircase, he caught a question from Skye.
"What...what were they?" she asked quietly, eyes still dazed and speech slow, "I didn't know Sorcery like that could even exist. Ever seen anything like that before?"
"Girl," Quintus growled, "I've never even heard of anything similar to what we just endured. They seem to specialise in Elemental Sorceries and, while those are typically about as primitive as throwing a sharp stick at someone, their shields were leagues ahead of anything I've ever seen before. You did well. Very well".
Skye blinked as the rare compliment sank in and gave a wan smile.
"Thank you," she muttered with a small measure of pride.
"No, thank you," Trastgor hissed at her shoulder, "You kept us alive back there. You, and you alone, saved us from your Master's foolishness".
Quintus didn't respond to that comment and Hulbard wondered if he'd even heard; the old man walked with his staff gripped tight, his eyes bright but every muscle trembling. Skye walked with her hand on Shankhill's shoulder for balance, a sight that made Hulbard feel distinctly uncomfortable and, like most things of that nature, he didn't dwell on it. After holding her in his arms, the sight of her relying on someone else seemed to sting more than he thought it should.
Instead, he kept his mouth shut and marched at the rear of their group, shield held loose as he searched the tower above for any movement. Aside from the shadows dancing around the braziers though, the entire place was as silent as when they'd first set foot in it. Reaching the base of the staircase a moment later, they gathered beneath the vaulted archway around its entrance and began arranging their second camp that night. On the opposite side of the chamber, a large pile of rubble was all that remained of the balcony that had been sundered before it had ever began to fall.
Knox set a circle of kindling, piled tinder on top of it and struck a flame with some flint. Leaning down over it, he expertly blew the tiny ember into tentative life, his gaunt features lit by the bright red glow. Of them all, the hunter seemed to be the least exhausted, despite the greying hair at his temples. Hulbard had no idea how old the man actually was, but he would have hazarded older than himself by ten or more years. In spite of that, he still moved with a sharpness that spoke volumes about his endurance.
The flame had scarcely caught before Skye approached the fire with a tripod in one hand and a tin kettle filled from their canteens in the other. Quintus eased himself to the cold stone floor and leaned back against a pillar in the archway with a heartfelt groan. The man looked half dead already, his eyes sunken and breathing shallow, but the hand clutching his staff close in a white knuckled grip was rigid. Trastgor arranged himself next to the fire, head bowed and eyes closed while Semekt coiled close by his side, one seeking peace and the other merely falling back into the habit of patience.
Shankhill planted himself on a teetering pile of books, every inch the weary traveller after a month's trek through unbearable terrain. Despite lacking anything close to his chipper tone, his voice was still loud and brash within all that emptiness when he spoke up.
"I'm not built for this kind of thing," he said wryly.
"Oh, we know," Knox muttered, settling back on his haunches next to the flames, "You look like you've seen better days".
"I think we all have," Hulbard said as he joined them.
Dropping his shield next to the flames with a clatter, he sank down beside it with a heavy sigh of his own. Reaching up, he pulled off his helm, let it clank to the stone floor and dragged in his first deep breath of fresh air in hours. The cold air was a balm against his sweat soaked forehead and he took a long second to drink in the experience. Not even ten minutes before, it hadn't looked likely he'd even see the next day. They all started when the kettle started to whistle and Quintus growled as he came awake.
"Girl," he croaked, pausing when he saw her curled up nearby.
With her head pillowed on her hands, she was out cold. Quintus looked around blearily, picked up a nearby book and was about to throw it at her when Knox held up a hand.
"Let the girl sleep," he growled, "I'll do it".
In the end, he made five cups of tea; one for Quintus and Himself, another two for Trastgor and Hulbard, while the last was handed to Shankhill. They all accepted their tin cups of the steaming brew with heartfelt thanks and Hulbard savored his first drink like it might still be his last. It wasn't long before the scent of Trastgor's pipe surrounded him as well and they fell into a comfortable silence around the crackling flames.