The Elder's Curse by Andrew Walbrown (ereader for textbooks TXT) 📕

his axe, comfortably wrapping his fingers around the handle. He looked in every direction, but all he saw were black marble statues and glowing torches. He knew Mazargo was right; he could feel something was amiss, the chill going down his spine confirming the belief. Though he did not see anything threatening, he knew somewhere in the darkness someone, or something, was watching them.

Suddenly there was a deep and ominous horn blast, loud enough it made Mazargo cover his ears. One by one the leaf-green lettering on the shields of the sentinels changed, all turning the color of blood. A great clamor came from all angles of the room, dozens of crashes sounding as the sentinels jumped from their bases and landed on the white marble floor. They then marched towards Ulam and Mazargo, their heavy stone feet sending shockwaves with each stomp.

“They’ve come alive!” Mazargo yelled as the army of black marble sentinels leveled their spears and raised their shields.

“Do you know how to kill them?” Ulam doubted his axe would be able to slice through hard stone, no matter how much force he used. Why could they not be made of flesh!

“Can you kill something that is not alive?” Mazargo asked.

“This is no time for philosophical questions,” Ulam growled. But he does make a valid point. Can they be killed if they are not alive? “What about disenchantment?”

“Mazargo would need to put a hand on them to do so,” the mage replied, “and say the right words. It would take time, time he does not have. Look out!”

Ulam ducked as a black marble spear whistled through the air right where his head had been. The sentinel’s arm slowly retracted and then struck again with the speed of a cornered viper, this time the spearhead crashing into a pillar behind Ulam, lodging itself in the stone. Ulam marveled at the sheer strength of the enchanted being, its brutality unlike anything he had ever seen. He could not believe how easily it had punched a hole through the stone pillar, doing so with so little effort that the column could have just as well been made of paper.

“There are more coming,” Mazargo said as he pulled on Ulam’s arm. “Run!”

Ulam did not need to be told twice; together they ran through the dimly lit chamber, all the while dodging spear thrusts from enchanted black marble sentinels. They ran nonstop for a full league with no end in sight, Ulam’s lungs fighting for breath while his leg muscles burned with exhaustion. He was about to collapse when they came upon a familiar, yet unwelcomed, sight: an enchanted sentinel with a spear stuck in a black marble pillar.

“Strange,” Ulam said through staggered breaths. “That looks exactly like the one we just ran from.”

“Perhaps it is one and the same?” Mazargo offered.

“How can that be?” Ulam exclaimed. An emptiness opened inside him as he watched the solitary sentinel fight to extract its spear. “Unless we ran in a circle, but I do not believe we did.”

“No,” Mazargo replied flatly, “it was a straight line. Mazargo believes this hall repeated itself with some strange magic he has never seen before. He will test this hypothesis now.”

Before Ulam could reply, Mazargo darted past the struggling sentinel, quickly disappearing into the darkness. Ulam stood still, trying to steady his breathing, while also watching for any signs of approaching enemies. He did not know where they were, he just knew they were coming; the sounds of their heavy feet the only noise he could hear. He also kept an eye on the nearby sentinel, not wanting to be caught unawares if the enchanted slab of black marble finally reclaimed its spear.

Will he come back? Ulam wondered as he stared into the surrounding darkness. What if he was wrong? What if he is only running further away, and now we are separated in this massive room? Oh how I wish Amantius had come along; he would have never run into the darkness to satisfy a curiosity! I wonder how their trials are progressing, and if he is safe with Kona at his side.

A sudden clangor took Ulam from his thoughts; the sentinel beside him finally retrieved its spear, though the shaft had snapped in two. It then approached Ulam, the percussive thuds on the ground beating out a dangerous tune. When it was a spear’s length away it tried striking, but where the shaft had been shattered the sentinel’s thrust did not come close. It tried time and again to skewer Ulam with its broken spear, and each time it struck only the air separating them.

Instinctively Ulam ran forward, knocking the broken spear out of the way, and used his axe to slash at his black marble enemy. The strike was met by the sentinel’s shield, creating a firestorm of sparks as both combatants reeled backward from the impact. Ulam struck again and again, each time meeting the same result. No matter how hard or agile his strikes were, the enchanted marble seemed to move just quickly enough to block each attempt. As he waited for an opening to attack again, Ulam heard footsteps approaching from behind, followed by heavy panting. He turned to see Mazargo bent over, hands on his hips, with a strange smile plastered on his face.

“Mazargo was correct, this room repeats itself forever, and he cannot even find the entrance.” He took a few more breaths and then twisted his face in confusion. “What is happening here?”

“I am dueling the sentinel,” Ulam replied, “though it makes no matter. It cannot hit me with a broken spear and I cannot hit it because of its huge shield. I just want a clean shot at its head to see if I can even hurt it.”

“Perhaps if Mazargo runs around it, it will track him and not you?”

Ulam grunted. “It is worth a try.”

Mazargo’s plan worked perfectly; the enchanted sentinel focused on him while leaving its neck vulnerable. The mage danced around like a court jester while