My own core was shook by the encounter. My adrenaline had faded by the time the sentry began to stall out. My blood was rushing while my weight became normal, and I was swept into a cloud of bliss.
My vision was taken for a minute or two, but it slowly returned. I stopped, and inspected the strange creature. It held a metal exterior that exposed no cracks or gaps, smooth from head to toe.
I tapped the shell. The sound, and the weight, told me it was full of some inner mechanism. A gentle ticking was the only thing coming from inside.
I attempted several means of entry, even my last popcap, but I was unable to crack the shell. The loud bang of the cap echoed through the tower, and caused some pebbles to shift. It left a decent sized depression in its metallic skin. Once the ringing in my ears had stopped I realized the ticking inside the beast had halted as well.
More mechanical sounds could be heard in the distance, this time coming from both above, and below me in the tower. I decided to press on towards the top, I was feeling rather indestructible with the power of the caged sphere pendant. All I need now is more popcaps, or something of equal strength to dismantle what awaits me ahead.
I decided to make the journey up the staircase on foot, instead of using the powered hand rail, to leave as little notes of my presence here as possible. It took a couple extra minutes, but I found my way safely to the next room.
I could feel the mood shift even in the bland walls of the staircase. Unlike the previous floors, this room held a sense of wholeness. There was still a wide assortment of items scattered throughout the room, but each one seemed to be in its place. I took my time pacing around the room, both to keep quiet, and to not miss any of the strange stone amalgamations. They were everywhere there was a solid surface to put one.
They held many shapes: cubes, spheres, pyramids, eggs, etc. Each with their own power coursing off them. The few I decided to pick up, caused complex thoughts to churn through my emotions, leaving me nauseous, and dizzy, and they were the inviting ones. I continued my inspection, but at a much less thorough rate.
I looked over hundreds of creations, all containing a mixture of several types of stones. A collection of experiments perhaps, or was each one crafted with a specific purpose? My thoughts continued to wander, until I came upon a window in the stone wall. I gazed out into the darkness.
It wasn’t hard to make out that I was about a story above what looked to be a massive warehouse. The structure no doubt houses the endless assortment of creations kept below. The angle of the window made it difficult, but I could make out a faint assortment of buildings lower in the distance.
A growl from my crimson dragon eye broke my contemplation, ushering me to explore the room further. All that seemed to be left was a desk by a bed with dusty sheets. The table did seem out of sorts in the room, it was clear of any dust or debris, holding only a large pad of paper, and a small sunstone pyramid. I was unwilling to touch the stone after my recent experiences, but I was able to roll it off by tilting the pad.
The paper, and ink on the pages were too worn to show the true beauty of the drawing underneath. However, at one point, the pictures did hold a vast amount of detail, meticulously placed. The pendant continued to growl at me, pushing me towards touching the stone.
The nausea came back, and my head became light. I hoped this stone would be different, being that it was a solid piece of one stone, and I could feel in my soul the pendant needed me to do this. I was a shaky mess as my hand made its way towards the small pyramid.
At first, nothing happened, maybe a slight tingle, but nothing near the experience of touching the other stones in this room. My dragon companion was excitedly purring as I rolled the stone in my hands. Holding it up to the torch light it glowed from within.
My vision was transfixed on the orange flakes shining on top of each other. The rainbow flashes, and warm light were a great distraction from the warmth starting to course through my gloved hand. I could feel the heat rushing through my spine, slowing my thoughts, and movements. A sensation of a motherly embrace washed over me, evaporating my fears, and leaving me shaky. I collapsed to the ground, and found a rest.
I awoke to a bright glow still coming from the stone, and myself. I was unable to move, as two metallic sentries had made their way into the room, and found my unconscious, glowing body. The sphere pendant still offered protection from their strikes.
Once again, I found myself having to wait out their advances. My gaze had found its way under the dusty, old bed, and locked onto another small black book. The spine held the same title of “Stone Splicing Records” as the last journal I found. Although my movement was impaired, I could feel a reserve of energy building within one of my pouches.
With each strike coming from the pair of sentries the reserves built, and with steady breathing I was able to maneuver it into my closer arm. It took all my concentration, and several imaginary attempts before my arm shot out to the book, and locked onto it with a vise grip.
My arm was under the bed, but laid exposed outside of my protective cube. From the forearm down I could see I was defenseless, as the invisible barrier flickered slightly with each strike upon it.
It was apparent to me, and to my assailant as well.
The bed quickly became pecked apart by their sharp spear-like extremities. My nerves clouded my concentration, and my arm laid there like a stone. I closed my eyes, and focused on bringing my arm back to me. With many breaths I was able to calm myself, and my arm snapped back to me, just as the floor was pierced.
It took some time to be able to move with a small amount of motor skills. The act of opening the book, and turning a page seemed insurmountable, but I had nowhere else to go. While I fumbled with the cover, I passed it into good lighting, and the author’s name was revealed, “Amun Serker”
Eventually, my fingers began to move slowly, and I managed my way into the pages. The front of the book was like the other, a personal journal while the priestess worked on the records. I missed the first few pages, but found the ones I got too, held good information.
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“Meka was a fool to trade away her machine. All the promises she made to our people, easily bartered away to the man who she blames for the issues. The poor creature will know a hard life here. Meka is already treating it as a test subject, instead of the magnificent spectacle of life it is.
The heat waves have returned, and the elders from Votum are speaking of signs of another great sinkhole forming nearby. The sand storms started up again today, after Ptha made a visit. It has been almost a decade since he turned his attention towards his dragons, and lost his sights on the cities, and towns that held him in such high regard.
‘Merely passing through, on another excursion,’ only this time he sat upon his albino dragon, claiming it to be one of the rarest breeds. It required a troop of sages, chanting cooling mantras to keep it comfortable in the raging heat.
Ptha came at the worst time, Meka had just spent hours attempting to train her new dragon as a pet. Her cup was already overflowing with frustration, and was easily spilled by a few well placed comments from Ptha. Their argument could be heard across the city, all the way to our tower. I finally joined Hala in going to break up the argument, however, by the time we got to the edge of the city Meka stood silent.
She stood there expressionless, totally devoid of any connection to this world. Ptha and his caravan were on their way to the edge of the mountain range. I couldn’t find any way of soothing my friend's trauma. I stood there with her, until the sun set. Hala thankfully brought us a shade umbrella, and was able to wrangle the crimson dragon back into its cell at the bottom of our tower, using a mountain of meat to do it…
When the sun was down, and the cooling night sky faded into view, Meka found herself once again. Her expression changed to that of dread, sorrow, and failure. I walked her across the town, and into her room inside the tower. Onlookers could see her visibly shaken by the interaction with Ptha, and their confidence in the contraptionist was fading. The whole walk back she continued to ask herself the same question. ‘How did they open my machine?’
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