Chael extended the tip of his spear and angled it slightly so that the silver reflection revealed the corridor ahead.
And then, he saw it.
A figure emerged from the adjacent passage and moved with slow, controlled steps.
It was a knight clad in full metallic armor, its surface rugged yet reflective and caught the dim glow of the torches on the walls. A metal helmet obscured its features and Chael almost thought it was human, but what made him stop in his tracks was the faint red glow where its eyes were supposed to be. It also held a sword in one hand and a metal shield in the other.
Chael watched carefully with his heart drumming in his chest.
He recalled the Hellfire Sentinel that had eviscerated that white dragon. He remembered the same red glow from where its eyes had been.
The knight's movements were unnaturally precise and not in the way of a living soldier, but in the way of something bound to a duty it could not abandon. It walked with mechanical repetition with steps echoing faintly through the silent corridor as if it had been following this path for centuries without pause.
There was no hesitation and no deviation.
Chael pressed himself into the shadows and kept his presence low as he traced the knight's movement through his spear's reflection.
Then, it turned a corner.
Without thinking, Chael moved.
A tattered curtain hung along the side of the corridor. He slipped behind it and pressed his back against the cold stone just as the knight came into full view.
Its steps did not falter.
It did not turn its head and it did not pause to observe its surroundings.
It simply walked.
Chael could see the curtain he had hidden himself in through the reflection of the knight's armor.
He could also see the rest of the corridor in the perspective of the knight's armor. It almost felt like he was the knight because every part of the knight had some sort of reflection.
This might turn out to be very useful.
The knight continued forward, its footsteps never breaking rhythm. The sound of its armor barely made a whisper, and the moment it passed, the silence of the corridor returned.
Chael waited for several moments before he stepped out from behind the curtain.
He glanced down the path the knight had taken and considered his next move.
Fighting it here wasn't an option.
The corridors were too quiet.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The clash of steel, even if it was just one strike, would echo through these halls and alert not just other knights that might be here, but whatever else lurked in the depths of this place.
He recalled the Hollowed Choir and shivered.
No.
He needed to be smart.
Instead of engaging, Chael trailed the knight from a distance.
His footsteps were soundless and his presence was as controlled as ever.
The knight never looked back.
It simply followed its path, turning corners with methodical precision, and navigated the halls as though it had walked them a thousand times before.
From the reflection of the knight's armor, Chael saw the corridor begin to open up.
They soon appeared in what seemed to be a grand prayer hall.
The ceiling arched high above and vanished into shadows. Massive pillars lined the chamber, each carved with intricate reliefs depicting scenes of war and worship
At the far end of the hall, a massive altar stood beneath a shattered stained-glass window.
The knight did not enter.
It continued down another passage and deeper into the cathedral.
Chael, however, didn't follow.
Instead, he slipped into the prayer hall and disappeared into the vast, empty space.
The vastness of the grand prayer hall stretched endlessly before Chael. Towering pillars loomed with their surfaces engraved with intricate carvings of forgotten deities. The faint torchlight barely reached the high ceilings which left the upper reaches shrouded in darkness.
An altar stood at the far end just beneath the shattered remains of a stained-glass window. The room reeked of something old and stagnant. He felt a lingering presence thick in the air.
Then, he heard it.
It started off as soft, breathy moans.
Chael's froze as unease settled into his bones. The sound echoed through the hall and weaved between the pillars like a sickly hymn. It wasn't the sound of someone in pain.
No, it was a noise very unbefitting of a place like this.
He stepped further into the shadows, moving carefully, his blindfolded gaze turning toward the altar where the sounds grew louder.
A priestess, or a ghost that resembled one, was bent over at the foot of the altar, naked except for the religious headpiece that crowned her head. Her hands were clasped in mock prayer as she muttered softly to herself.
"Ahh… Blessed be the halls of the Crucible of Light. May the Mothers of Flesh heed the call of the Whore-Saint. May we bathe in devotion… in surrender… in ruin... ah..."
Behind her, a knight loomed.
It was clad in the same faceless armor as the patrolling knight he followed earlier, its every movement was slow and unnatural as it thrust its hips forward and backward.
The only difference was that the lower portion of its armor was missing.
It didn't move like a man, nor did it move like a beast and it moved like a thing bound to a purpose it no longer understood.
Chael's stomach twisted as he listened. There was something deeply wrong about this.
The priestess let out another trembling moan. "Ohh… Mother… Mother… have you forsaken me, too? The Whore… She calls… She calls…"
Chael fought the urge to get out of there as fast as he could.
Discomfort overwhelmed him.
Whatever this was, it wasn't for him to understand. He took a slow step back, angling his body toward the opposite side of the chamber.
There was another exit across the hall.
If he could just slip past-
"Ah…" The woman's voice slithered through the air and curled around his ears like a dying breath. "A new pilgrim…"
Chael froze.
He hadn't made a sound. He hadn't even let his breathing change. And yet, she knew.
Slowly, his head turned toward her.
The priestess remained bent over, but her body no longer shook. It appeared that the knight had stopped its movements. Her pale lips curled into something between a smile and a grimace and her breath slowed as if she were savoring the moment.
"Does the Whore-Saint call to you, too?"
Chael didn't answer.
Then, a sharp movement.
A low and unnatural creak filled the silence as the knight's head twisted toward him, its faceless helm locking onto his position.
And then, its hollow sockets glowed.
A deep, crimson light flickered to life within the slits of its visor and burned dimly at first, then grew stronger.
Chael's pulse hammered.
The priestess let out a shuddering sigh and turned her body entirely toward him, her voice dripping with something sickly sweet.
"Ahhh… we are watched…"
And then, the knight moved.
What should Chael say to the priestess?
