The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 27

A Tomb with A Test

The fall lasted for what felt like an eternity. Alexander continued to hold on to the corpse of the slain scorpenox king, using it to cushion the blows from the impacts that came whenever they hit something not even Alexander’s angelian eyes could make out in the pitch-black void. He was just starting to think he would spend the rest of his life falling into the endless pit, when finally, the scorpenox body hit the ground, and instead of bouncing off and continuing its drop, began to slide down a slope that mercifully ended after what Alexander estimated to be about five minutes. The massive bulk of the scorpenox came to a stop as it crashed into something with a metallic clang.
Alexander finally loosened his death grip on the scorpenox shell and tried to calm his breathing. His heart beat in his throat and his head spun so rapidly it caused him to feel nauseated. He slipped off the slick shell of the scorpenox king and took a seat in what felt like mud as he rested his back against the beast.
“I’m alive,” he whispered to himself and an uncontrollable laughter burst out of him. Over and over he said, “I’m alive.”
He remained seated in the shadows for a long while as he waited for the thaumaturgic energy in his body to build up once again. As soon as he had enough, he raised his right hand over his head and conjured a small ball of bright fire. It rose into the air and hung several feet above his head, like his own personal sun.
With his surroundings illuminated, he could make out the thing the scorpenox corpse had collided with: a gigantic metal gear that protruded from the ground at an angle. Behind the gear was a doorway cut into the rough rock of the cave wall.
Well, it’s not like I can get back out that way, Alexander thought as he looked up. There was not a wall to climb in sight. In fact, there was nothing to see at all. Great, so my only option is to go through the creepy door that has no right to be here.
As he approached the door, he conjured another flame into his hand, then stepped through the opening and almost slipped on the glass floor. The circular room was alive with sound from the millions of gears that ranged from the size of an apple seed to a medium-sized house. From the ceiling hung a series of rotating rings around a massive brass sphere. In the middle of the glass floor stood a plinth with chains that had been cut by someone who wanted to steal what they had once kept secure. A spiral of stairs led beneath the glass floor to a room that held a stone table. All around the table stood five doors, each of which had five locks made of different materials: glass, stone, wood, bone, and crystal.
With no other doors in sight, Alexander went down the stairs and tried to open a door, but it would not budge. He turned to the stone table and saw five keys—all made of a different material as well—laid out around a metallic plate covered in ancient writing.
“What is this place?” he wondered aloud. He dusted off the metal plate in the center of the table and read:

Five doors stand around you, each of which leads to places that cannot be reached any other way. Of the five locks on each door, only one per door works, and only a specific key will open it. To turn the key, a password must be spoken. Speak the wrong password, enter the wrong key into the wrong lock on the wrong door, and your death shall be assured. Except for one, only specific people can open each door. Even if you solve the riddle, if you are not meant to open the door, your punishment shall be worse than death. As a final warning, it is advised that the door that leads to the prison of He Who Slumbers should remain shut no matter what. To find your door, solve the riddle. The door right in front of the table shall be known as the first, with the second to its right.

Only someone with an invitation from the Jördai Ladies can open the door with the crystal lock.
The iron key unlocks the glass lock.
The password for the stone lock is lǫgr.
The door only someone with a Shepherd’s Obal should open is on the immediate left of the door anyone may enter.
The password for the door that only someone with a Shepherd’s Obal should open is lopt.
The door that the silver key unlocks leads to the Mag Argatnél lands of Tylwyth Teg.
Only the Heir of Magic can open the door that leads to the test of the Phoenix King.
The center door’s password is steinn.
The lock of the first door is made of wood.
The door that leads to the prison of He Who Slumbers is right next to the door that the copper key unlocks.
The gold key unlocks the door next to the door that leads to the Phoenix King’s Test.
The password for the door that leads to the Palace of The Muses is þrymja.
The door with the glass lock leads to the New Tartos Prison of the Afterworld.
The door unlocked with the wood lock is next to the door no Malefactor can open.
The door that opens with the Bone lock is next to the door that leads to the New Tartos Prison of the Afterworld.
The third door uses the crystal lock.
The bronze key opens the door to the Palace of the Muses
The final password is Bál.

Alexander frowned at the metallic plate; his eyes fixed on a specific line in the riddle. Only the Heir of Magic can open the door that leads to the test of the Phoenix King.
Heir of Magic was what the phoenix on moondrake had called him, Phoenix King was what Chaka and the pride called him. That would mean that one of the five doors was meant for him. For a second, he considered turning around to leave, but it would accomplish nothing. There was nowhere else to go. His only option was to try to find the door that was meant for him—but that was easier said than done.
At first, he tried to work it out in his head, but he quickly grew too confused, so instead, he sat down on the ground and wrote in the dirt with his finger. His frustration got the better of him on more than one occasion and he smeared away everything he had written and had to start all over again. On his sixth attempt, he thought he had nearly figured it out, only to find that the last key and lock combination didn’t fit and he had made a mistake somewhere. He started over again, and again, and again. But eventually, he thought he had an answer. His confidence in his own ability was so shaken by this point however, that he was a little hesitant to try. If the warning on the plate was true, a mistake would mean death. But he started from scratch to work the riddle out twice more and came to the same conclusion. But as he took the copper key and inserted it into the wooden lock of the first door, his heart was beating out of control.
Alexander closed his eyes and said, “Bál.”
The second the word left him; the copper key jerked free of his grasp and turned in the wooden lock. The door swung inward and ice-cold, stale air rushed out.
“Oh, very well done,” a voice said behind Alexander and he jumped.
He conjured a flame in both hands and said, “You.”
“Oh, come now, put those away. Surely you don’t want to try this again,” the silver-eyed man said.
No, I don’t, Alexander thought, but I’ll die before I admit it. Instead, he said, “What are you doing here?”
“Technically, I work here,” the silver-eyed man said. “But I’m also here to make sure you don’t forget these.” He threw a stack of red and gold scorpenox shell plates tied together with a silvery cord to Alexander. “I sliced a few of the shell pieces off for you. I believe you need to take them back to the village to pass your test.”
Alexander stared at the stack at his feet for a while, then at the other man. “What do you want?”
“I want a lot of things,” the silver-eyed man said cheerily. “But for right now, I just want to see you fulfill the phoenix prophecy.”
“Don’t tell me you believe I’m some Phoenix King nonsense as well?” Alexander said, shaking his head in disbelief.
The other turned to face him, and to Alexander’s frustration, he saw those silver eyes glitter with amusement. “What I believe is immaterial. In facts, what you believe is immaterial. All that matters is: whether or not you intent to go through that door?”
Alexander did not move, he just stared at the door for a long time. Eventually, he asked, “Who are you? I can’t keep thinking of you as the silver-eyed asshole who won’t leave me alone. What do I call you?”
The other man chuckled. “Well, that is as good a name as any. But for short, and for now, you can just call me Silver. Now then, shall we?”
Silver held out a hand to indicate that Alexander should walk through the door. He shrugged and did.
“What—?” Alexander started to ask but the moment he stepped through the door the roof itself fell on them. Throwing the bound shell pieces to the ground, he raised his arms above his head and focused everything he had to keep the giant slab of stone from crushing him to dust.
“You know you can help,” Alexander said in a strained voice as he saw Silver casually leaning against the wall, staring at him with a grin.
“Fine, I’ll help.” Silver sighed as he bent down to pick up the bound shell and started walking to the end of the corridor without a backward glance.
Alexander’s mouth hung open with incredulity as he was left to hold the roof from crushing them on his own.
“Coming?” Silver called from the end of the corridor.
When I get out of this predicament, I’m going to kill that arrogant, lazy, son of a swamp slug, Alexander thought as he slowly started his way to the end of the corridor. He placed one hand before the other making his slow, painful way to safety. Pain shot through his arms and his shoulders ached in protest with every step he took. As is always the case in times of great struggle, time reveals its disobliging nature: it slowed down, causing the hardship to feel so much longer than it truly is. It felt like hours of concentration and bodily strain before Alexander finally reached the end of the corridor where Silver was once again lounging lazily against the wall.
“About time,” he said, still grinning as Alexander leaped forward, leaving the roof to crash down, sending clouds of dust flying everywhere.
On his knees and breathing hard, Alexander shot Silver a look that could curdle milk. “If I had any strength left in my arms, I would choke the life out of you.”
“Good thing you don’t then.” He gave Alexander another infuriating grin before he added, “Besides, you’ll need to save your energy. What we’re looking for is just over there.”
Despite himself, Alexander glanced in the direction Silver was pointing, and the sight that greeted him drove all the anger from him. They were in a gigantic room. Fire as white as snow covered the walls while in the center of the room, a circle of black flame surrounded two figures holding hands. The domed roof above them had three depictions on it. The first was a scroll with the Heart Tongue Rune for knowledge on the wax seal. The second depiction was of two boulders—the Heart Tongue Runes for strength and endurance carved into each. The last depiction was a crown of fire, the flames curved in the precise way to represent the Heart Tongue Rune of power.
“What is this place?” Alexander asked.
“This is the tomb of Ata and Akwere, made especially for them by my master.” Silver pointed to the two figures in the middle of the room and said, “You have to wake them with pyroturgy.”
“Wake them?” Alexander said, not sure he understood. “They’ve been dead for millennia now—are you talking about necromancy?”
“Don’t worry, it's nothing as sordid as that,” Silver said. “When they were nearing death, they came to my master to ask for help. They wanted a way of protecting their secrets, even after death. My master helped them to achieve that and to record their last words for the day you arrived.”
Alexander moved forward to get a better view of the two statues. They were exceptionally lifelike replicas of two Pride members, but they were not statues at all, instead of stone, they were made up of metallic plates, gears and pistons. There was a circular hole in both of their chests. The two statues were both facing one another; their hands clasped in the middle around a ball of golden flames.
Alexander conjured a flame in both hands and held them in the holes in their chests. The reaction was instantaneous. The two small flames roared as they expanded rapidly and brought the mechanical pride warriors alive. The gears began to turn, and the room came alive as the black and white flames in the room started to retract as they were swallowed by the clockwork brothers.
The replicants of Ata and Akwere moved as flames of black and white leaked from beneath the metal plates. They were magnificent to behold as they stood before Alexander, illuminated by the ball of golden fire that was floating between their hands. The clockwork warrior filled with the black fire opened his mouth and began to speak in a deep, gravelly voice. “We have been waiting for you, Heir of Magic.”
“Yes, we have been waiting,” the clockwork figure filled with the white flames said.
The clockwork replicants opened their mouths and drained the golden fireball between them, revealing a pristine page floating in mid-air.
“Take it. It is yours,” Akwere said.
“We have been guarding it for you all this time,” Ata added.
Tentatively, Alexander stretched out a hand for the page, silently obeying the orders. When he closed his fist around the piece of paper, Ata said, “When our father tasked us with his trial of fire, my brother and I met up in the desert, unbeknown to him.”
“There, we met a mysterious figure carrying a book of ancient power. He heard our plight and offered us his help,” Akwere added.
“He took this page from the book and told us we could use the knowledge it contained only if we were to protect it,” Ata continued.
“Now the task of its protection falls to you,” they both said together and the fire inside them died out and the clockwork warriors abruptly fell to pieces.
“Wait! What makes you think I’m worthy of this?” Alexander asked.
“Well, to start, you passed the same three tests they did,” Silver said from where he was studying the pictorial writing on the wall.
“What are you talking about?” Alexander said.
“Intellect, strength, and power,” Silver said, holding up a finger for each. “You solved the riddle of the five doors, proving your intellect, you proved your strength by preventing the roof from crushing you, and you proved your power by slaying the scorpenox king with the Trinity Flame.”
“Trinity Flame?” Alexander said.
“Well, it's your creation so you get to name it, I just thought trinity fire was suitable seeing as it requires the caster to be able to combine the thaumaturgic energy from three World Hearts.” Silver saw Alexanders confusion and added, “Sources. Thaumaturgic energy from three Sources.”
Silver threw the bound stack of shells at Alexander just as a dimensional gate formed out of the blue behind him. He caught the stack instinctively and Silver said, “It's time for you to get back to the Palace of the Pride.”
A solid blast of wind hit Alexander like a giant’s club and flung him backwards through the dimensional gate.