With a satisfying click followed by a deep rumble, the door opens inward. Immediately, that aura, already so depressive, crushed down upon me. This is nothing like what I had felt in Lion's presence, where I had felt like a mouse in the paws of a cat; rather, I feel like a puny mortal before the awe-inspiring deity of the Great Scholar, a being that has no option other than to succumb to its might and die, knowing all the while that my soul is destined to be battered into nothingness for the being's own amusement. Though even that doesn't capture the dread I feel in this moment; a feeling of death that must be well beyond what even the dead felt on their passage to the void; in fact, I know with absolute certainty that the aura I feel right now is more authentically that of death than what I had felt upon actually dying.
Of course, only the aura of despair can reach me, the black miasma which accompanies it is restrained as if by some invisible boundary, unable to cross the threshold and enter into this room.
I half expect the owner of this miasma, or its source or whatever, to come up to the entry, to try to lure me into the darkness where it can eat my very soul. Yet, after waiting for several tense minutes, nothing changes; eddies within the miasma incite it to swirl its shades of black in a display against the impenetrable border.
Finally, with some shakiness in my very mind, I try to turn and leave, to report this that I have found to the guild and be forever free of this presence. Yet, my body starts to move of its own accord.
[Th-this isn't funny…] I think with some panic, all amusement at the apparent independent thought of my madness gone as it tries to engage in an action that seems certain to lead to my death.
I try to take control over my body; yet, as though my voluntary actions have been seized upon by the same part of the body which controls blood pressure and pupil dilation, my body moves to step forward of its own accord.
Desperately I try once more to take the reins back from my walking corpse. Yet, there is nothing to be done as it steps into the miasma, beyond that invisible barrier which had kept me safe until now.
Immediately, darkness floods my vision; it would seem that my flaming light has no power here. Yet the feeling of dread does not undergo a perceptible increase by any substantial degree, which is certainly a good thing; any more potent, and my heart may beat itself to death in the course of a second.
No, it would seem that the invisible barrier only served to hold the miasma in its place, having no part in keeping the aura at bay; and, assuming that its creator genuinely wanted to prevent any unwitting traveler from stumbling in, that makes quite a lot of sense; no one could possibly enter this miasma without recognizing the danger involved.
Perhaps most surprising is that my death is not immediate. No, my vision is clouded by the ethereal darkness, but a quick glance over my shoulder shows the entryway to still be intact.
Perhaps the fact that I did not immediately die upon entry spurs me on, or perhaps it is still just my madness, but the reality that I have yet to find the source of this terror compels me to continue forth.
I stretch out my arms in each direction; they quickly confirm me to be in a smooth walled tunnel of a width no greater than the archway of my entry. A tunnel full of darkness beyond a room of light, yet the underlying material seems to remain the same… interesting. Certainly man made – though I struggle to imagine man creating a place such as this, no man I have met, not even General Lion, could hold a candle to the roaring flame that must be the source of such a presence. Of course, that assumes a sentient being; I very much hope that such is not the case, that the source of this power can have no thought to kill me, that it is some ancient artifact or timeless gathering of sentiments, or some other, equally fantastical explanation; again, anything other than this miasma being the physical representation of an aura of a beast of such power that it alludes to.
I take slow, methodical steps down the tunnel – but don't think me a coward! Nay, these steps are not in hesitation or in fear; rather, I wouldn't want to bump into anything, and my hands are too busy tracing the contours of the room to be of any use in preventing me from crashing into anything.
I have no need to worry, it would seem; the floor remains perfectly smooth, without even a single abstraction; the only detail of note as I descend into the miasma is that the journey is just that: a descent. The floor is gently sloped down, continuing my journey ever deeper into the bowels of the earth.
Suddenly, the wall is no longer there to be traced by my hands. I feel around it carefully, finding that there is a sharp corner accompanied by an expansion, as the width of the room grows to an unseen size.
I take another step forward and find that the floor has again grown rough beneath my feet, once again the construct of nature and no longer the construct of man. Still, the aura grows no thicker; it has maintained its density for my whole experience within this miasmic zone, and even the area directly beyond.
I take a few more steps, and then another, before suddenly, without warning, the miasma is no longer clouding my eyes. I quickly glance behind me, and there it is, still a wall of night. I look forward again, intent on observing what may now actually be observed.
I stand on a rough, rocky floor, of which there is only a few feet between the miasma and a hole of unfathomable depths. Upon exiting the miasma, the light of my flames has again taken on the whole of its power, as though it has never dimmed. Yet, this light refuses to penetrate more than a half-dozen meters into the circular hole before me. Within is darkness, true darkness, a black that seems akin to a black hole in the way that all light is absorbed without response. Even the miasma had eddies of dark gray and hints of purple swirling around in its murky depths; this chasm has not even that, as though darkness itself has been contained within.
Around the hole is a rim of rough stone, a constant three feet in width, which separates the hole from the miasma. If I so desired, I could walk the rim of this hole, which is about fifty yards in diameter, and return to my current location; alternatively, I could go halfway around and continue exploring the miasma on the other side.
After all, who knows? My side of the miasma had a tunnel and a door leading to this large room; perhaps the other does as well?
[Nonsense! And besides, even if it does, it is undoubtedly true that this chasm's depths hold the secrets I am looking for. Unless they don't, and this is all just a red herring, and I would be better to continue on… Heh heh. Cowardly me, that is obviously not the case, these depths will put an end to our curiosity once and for all!]
Despite the best efforts of my rational mind, my madness seems to have finally gained a mind of its own.
[An end to our curiosity perhaps, if only because I have died and may think no more!]
[Bah! Nonsense, even if you die, you will float in the void content, knowing that you bravely explored the depths and answered your questions!]
It seems that arguing with my madness will get me nowhere; after all, it seems to have little regard for my life, its new goa is seemingly to witness my death, the death of its supposed master, so it may once again take reign over my mind as it had in the void only a rather short time ago.
At least, I suppose that is its intent; it is madness after all, it is more than possible that it has no coherent plan and seizes only on whatever whim catches its fantasy.
Whatever its intent, at such a high level, my resist madness is inadequate in its suppression, in times of conflict between my rationality and my madness, should the conflict be a serious match with each contender putting forth the full of its power, such as is the current case, what can my rational side really do in resistance? In such a case, I can do nothing but submit to my maddened whims, in the hope that I may be able to undo the damage in the future.
Just as my madness is seriously considering jumping into the pit to, and I quote, "just see what happens," the worst of my nightmares are realized. A pair of gleaming red ellipsoids make themselves known in the darkness. Which is to say, a set of eyes, possessed of the darkness, and indicating a chance at its sentience, stare up at me.
Instantly, my fear is renewed; not just the instinctual, primal fear that the miasma had inflicted, what I had followed on my journey here; no, rather, it is a much more rational fear, that which accompanies the knowledge that one has made eye contact with a being seemingly formed of the aura of death itself.