The wind was getting colder by the second, and Arya's bone bear fur cloak was not stopping the cold from biting his nerves. He rubbed his hands together and wished he didn't get a frostbite.
Beside him, the flame priest walked in silk robes openly, chanting the Flame god's prayers. That echoed from the stones of the large tunnel. His eyes and body were warm, and Arya's face winkled a bit seeing the priest's comfort.
"We don't have much time. We need to find the crypt." Arya reminded himself what was at stake: a thousand meters above his head, near the mountain peak, the blue seal of protection would shatter not long from now.
"Don't worry, my lord. We have crossed the endless maze with God's blessings if he made us come this far. We cannot fail from here." The priest gave Arya hope, but the words weren't compensating for the cold.
"Curse the bloody serpents… This wind is their fault," Arya spoke under his breath, which froze out. He stepped forward with determination. "You will have my daughter's hand in marriage if you can save my nation." The words echoed in his head.
Arya took a deep breath and walked on the slippy moss of the stone tunnel, thinking about the time people called him the weakest warlord, the time they called a girl in a man's skin a eunuch, the time they shamed his birth.
His teeth gritted against each other.
"I will get my revenge on them, all of them. I will marry Princess Ina, become the next king by right, and then will hang every one of those bastards." Arya didn't have a family to remember besides his father, who sold him to the king as an infant.
He could feel his hands signing death sentences to each of them with the pen he always kept in the pocket.
"?!" The light fell into his eyes from the top of the tunnel, where green symbols shone on top of him, written in a language unknown. He pulled out his sword and took a stone stance.
"Don't fear, my lord. The symbols are a language of the past. Don't worry; there is no trap. I believe they are meant to guide us."
Arya's face relaxed, and he put his sword back in its sheath and stared at the words with sharp vision. Try to match with the words of any language he saw.
"Which language is this? I was a head librarian of Uro, and no books had this language." Arya took a sharp jibe at his pride and knowledge.
"This language was a staple in the past, although unfamiliar to humans in today's time. In the old lava pool of the ashen city, the words of this language were carved on monuments. Flame gods, grant knowledge to their subjects after all." The flame priest smirked broadly, mocking Arya's knowledge.
"For this foul of your tongue, I will call you Old Fart whenever you annoy me." Arya returned the mock with punishment, and the priest's smirk vanished.
"Why are you looking at my face like that, old fart? Keep walking and inform me if anything important comes up." Arya tapped the priest's red cloak and pushed him ahead.
The two began walking once again, and the priest kept reading without mentioning anything to Arya. Arya, although bothered by the fact, began to return to his thoughts.
"The puzzle was difficult, and this place was hiding in between a mountain range. Three years worth of time to find this place and 2 months to break through it. The warlord better grant me every wish I ask for."
Chill…
"What was that?!" Arya's entire body sensed danger; he stopped and looked at all sides with his sword.
"What happened?" The priest turned back and looked at Arya. "There was something; it touched my neck…" Arya rubbed his neck; it felt like someone just bit him. His clothes hid the goosebumps leaking out of his body.
"Keep on moving! We have no time; they are coming. The snow serpents are coming; the seal won't stop them any longer. It's going to crack very soon, the shield." Arya sheathed his sword, and his legs shook.
The time was running out.
"Calm down, my lord. The walls of dwarf soldiers protect your boundaries; we have ample time to reach the door. Even the greatest serpents won't find us in this tomb." The priest stood his ground and explained Arya with a smile.
"If you think that, then explain this to me." Arya showed his neck to the priest.
The priest gulped when he saw the wound, blood coming out of Arya's neck. His eyes were surprised; he moved his hand to touch the wound, but Arya turned around before the priest pulled his hand back.
"The wind serpents know we are here. Someone had betrayed us; the traitor sold the lives of the people of Uro. We need to reach the door quickly." Arya lifted the priest in the air and began running.
"My lord?! What are you doing?" The priest tried to protest, but Arya couldn't care less. "The crypt only opens when you read the engravings on the main door; it was written in the old scroll and speaks the name of the lord's mother. Only you can do that." Arya pushed all his power into his feet and began running.
The priest kept reading the words on the wall, or he was chanting more prayers. For the last month, Arya had become accustomed to the prayers in unknown languages. He was singing them deep inside, hoping something good might happen.
Because it was getting even colder and Arya was breathing heavily,
"Please! One more chance; I need this chance to become something great... Arya pleaded as he ran.
"Praise be, my lord. Please look ahead of us; I believe that is an old magic prism lighting a wall." The priest, smiling, pointed ahead towards a light door.
Arya's smiling never came up, though, because he could feel the magic pressure of the seal breaking and the aura of the beasts coming towards him, but he stopped his tears the best he could.
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