The shuffling of my bare feet against the rough, stone floor stirred the dead stillness oppressing the corridor. Shadows squirmed in the guttering torchlight. Their elongated edges reached across cracked walls that had been infested with cobwebs. The flames cast an amber glow that never quite reached the arching ceiling. It left the space above my head lost in the darkness, as if the very air refused to be illuminated.
Behind me, fragments of conversation drifted like snowflakes caught in a winter breeze. Lyra's voice tinged with the forged warmth of someone trying her best to appear unafraid. Wouter's cold taunts were playful yet defiant. Not to forget the dazed Kerg's amnesiac words and conspicuous ranting. All their casual banter emphasized a hollow space between us. A reminder of the camaraderie I wish I couldn't grasp. Their voices faded with each step I took into the lair's depths. It left me alone with my colliding thoughts and the crushing weight of Sein's earlier scrutiny.
The corridor pressed in around me, its walls damp with age-old moisture that carried the cruel tang of unspoken violence. Patches of a species of phosphorescent fungus clung to the corners where the wall met the ceiling, casting a pale greenish glow.
The air grew cooler as I ventured deeper, carrying the musty scent of decay and something else—something sharp that didn't belong in these ancient halls. A slash of dim light caught my attention. A door, slightly ajar, swung in almost unnoticeable movements on its rusty hinges. The metal was strange. Not the usual iron or steel, but something darker, with an iridescent luster that reminded me of crude oil. I crept towards the door and eased closer. Through the gap, the room beyond held a row of beds. Stained, off-white sheets like palls were pulled back, almost reaching the floor. Stiff pillows would remind anyone of tombstones. The tainted whiteness of the threads seemed out of place in these shadowed depths, like withered white roses left in a graveyard.
But one bed, set apart in its occupation, held my gaze. There lay who I assumed was Ven. His chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm beneath crisp white bandages with sparse blotches of crimson. His left eye was obscured by gauze. The visible half of his face was a map of pain. His skin pulled tight over blunt cheekbones, and those parted lips were cracked and stained red. Beside him, Sein sat on a wooden chair. He was a statue of vigilance. His presence guarded Ven's troubled rest. The soft whisper of Ven's labored breathing mixed with the distant drip of water somewhere in the darkness, creating a syncopated rhythm that seemed to count down to something inevitable.
When I began to withdraw, Sein's head lifted with the inevitable precision of a hunter sensing its target. His eyes locked onto mine with uncomfortable accuracy. They pinned me down more effectively than any physical assault.
"No need to hide." The words came soft but heavy, heaving with unspoken meaning that hung in the air between us.
I resigned myself to confrontation and stepped into the room. Removing Sein's cloak, I left it hanging on the chair.
Something on the bedside table seized my attention: a perfect sphere of absolute darkness, an orb that seemed to devour light rather than reflect it. The object exerted an inexplicable pull. Its surface appeared smooth as polished obsidian, yet somehow deeper, as if it contained a black hole within its modest circumference.
"What's that?" The question escaped before I could stop it. The words felt hostile, as if I didn't care for Sein's injured crewmate.
Sein's expression darkened further as his gaze shifted to the orb, the lines around his mouth deepening like cracks in weathered stone.
"Ven returned with this... Well, this and his wounds." His hand moved absently across his jaw, lost in recollection, fingers tracing the old scars that ran from ear to chin. "The Sovereigns kept artifacts like these in their the lab." His words carried the weight of personal experience, of horrors witnessed firsthand.
The silence that followed felt alive with implications. Sein's journey into the Void—where he found me—lent gravity to his reticence. His eyes spoke of dissatisfaction, reminding me without words that my presence here was an accident.
In a moment, I felt my hand jerk out of control, and fingers approached the orb. The pull had become nearly irresistible; a siren's song felt rather than heard. My fingers brushed its surface before reason could intervene.
The moment of contact induced a transformation. The solid sphere became liquid while maintaining perfect form. The surface rippled beneath my touch, sending waves of darkness across its perfect sphere.
Ouch!
Wonder turned to agony as pain lanced up my arm. I jerked back, cradling my hand, and licked my fingertips. I swore they bled, but there wasn't the slightest hint of blood.
"Again." Sein commanded, his voice carrying an edge of anticipation I'd never heard before. There was a thriving hunger in his expression. "Go on, touch it."
Initially I pouted, but before I could adhere to my judgment, I reached out once more. The orb's surface yielded beneath my touch. Its form shifted and flowed like living metal. Pain surged through my arm with renewed intensity. I watched in fascinated horror as the sphere began to change.
The orb grew warm, then hot. Its surface rippled with purpose as it stretched out. Through tears brimming in my eyes, I watched it adopt its new form. A pole thrumming with power was trapped beneath my curled fingers.
But the transformation wasn't complete. Not yet. A reflex summoned a thought as it flashed in my mind. A hybrid of instrument and weapon, both mesmerizing and deadly. The pole responded to my will, its form twisting and reshaping until I held a double-bladed Viking axe. It was molded from the darkest material I'd seen, but gleamed like black carbon and possessed a similar texture.The curves of the blade were sharp and very well refined. Its edges promised both music and violence in equal measure. As I gripped the brute, I noticed six silver strings, stretched and taut, running across the fret and ending just at the axe blade's center. From that point, a dragon's flattened skull formed a bridge holding the pair of blades together. The headstock reminded me of a dragon's claw, straightened out by sheer force. White, shiny bolts screwed their way into the claw, holding the strings in place. It felt alive, responsive to my thoughts. It was like holding a leashed blade that coursed with untamed plasma, ready to burst.
A soft sound drew my attention back to the bed. Ven stirred, his uncovered eye closed yet struggling to focus. Soon, his consciousness returned. His gaze drifted from Sein to me, then fixed upon the transformed weapon in my hands.
"Easy, Ven," Sein murmured, his hand gentle on Ven's shoulder. The tenderness in his voice was startling, a sharp contrast to his usual stern demeanor. The words seemed to carry extra weight, as if Sein were trying to convince himself as much as Ven.
Ven tried to speak, but produced only a dry whimper. His eye remained locked on the guitar, seeing something in it that I couldn't yet comprehend.
I adjusted my grip on the guitar, feeling its strange warmth pulse in response. Power thrummed, echoing in harmonies only I could hear. Small objects on the nearby table—an earthen mug, a jug, and a chipped plate—began to vibrate almost imperceptibly, as if responding to some subsonic frequency.
Ven's expression spoke volumes in his silence, asking questions I wasn't ready to answer. What had I awakened in transforming the orb? What had I awakened in myself? The guitar hummed softly in my hands, its notes carrying undertones of unknown potential. The silence in the room deepened, broken only by the soft resonance of the axe-guitar. We stood frozen in that moment; only breaths exchanged words. Then Ven pointed his finger, struggling against the weight of his arm.
Sein glanced at me, then turned back to Ven.
"Relax, there's no rush. We'll hear all you got when you're better, okay?" Sein said.
"But, Sein, how... how did he...?"
"He's one of us now. I found him in the Void. I'll tell you about it all later. Take it easy, my friend."
Friend?
"I didn't know you had 'friends'." I mocked Sein for his choice of vocabulary.
The scythe bearer's brows furrowed as he shot me a menacing scowl.
This is the first time I've heard that word from Sein's mouth. For someone like him, it was an anomaly for him to use such a word. Even the toughest of beasts can't avoid the strings of friendship, or alliance, in my opinion. There's a past behind them both, a history I was unaware of. Either way, learning about the crew and deepening my bonds with them was a must if I were to survive in this accursed domain.