Emberfell

  6 Months Ago

  “Lit...Lit…Lit!” Eugene yelled from behind the makeshift barrier erected in the small tunnel. He hunched his petite frame behind the piece of scrap metal, serving as his only protection against the explosion that was about to rock the stone walls. He had come to enjoy this part of being a miner. Always finding new veins, always on the hunt.

  So when the small stone wall, more than a mile underneath the ground, fell, Eugene's heart began to race with the excitement of a modern treasure hunter discovering the biggest score of their career.

  The statue of stone in front of him was no coal vein. It rose from the ground, like a dark V. Each side jutting up and away from the other. From this distance, Eugene could see that the statue was dark. Darker than any vein of coal. Darker than the current shadows surrounding them so far underground. He could also see that there was something being held in between the edges of the sharp V shooting up.

  Eugene knew he needed to get closer, “just a glimpse” he thought to himself. But then his training kicked in. They had just blown down a stone wall a mile underground. “Gas check!” He shouted, still hunkered down behind the scrap metal.

  Eugene watched as his friend Mainin stepped forward. Clad in the same dark miner suit that Eugene himself was wearing. The difference being, Mainin had remembered to pull his gas mask up. As Eugene pulled his own mask up, he watched as Mainin retrieved the small cage behind his own piece of scrap metal. He pulled off the small covering, revealing the small bird inside, tweeting its merry song, completely unaware of its circumstances in life. He opened a small door in the front of the cage, allowing its small space to fill with the same acrid air the men needed to breathe.

  The men waited for a few seconds, then a few more. Very quickly a minute had passed, and the small tunnel was still full of the birds' merry calls. Eugene rose, removed his gas mask and yelled “Clear.” Inside, he was grateful. He found himself needing to investigate the statue further.

  Eugene motioned for his friend to stay back as he approached the statue. His first observation had been correct, it was dark. “My god” he thought to himself as he inched closer. The small space seeming to close in around him with every step forward. Eugene now had a clear view of what was between the two V’s. Two slim arms of stone shot out horizontally from each V about halfway up. The arms were holding something curious in place, a small black stone. No, not just black. To Eugene it more closely resembled a container of blood left to rot. It sat at a forty-five-degree angle, seemingly held in place by nothing. If Eugene had been in a joking mood, he would have said it was being held in place by magic, but there was no magic in Emberfell, only machines.

  “What is it?” Eugene heard Mainin say from behind him, now coming to see what had so wholly captivated his friend.

  Eugene tried to find a response, tried to find something to say to his friend, but words escaped him. Finally, he said the only thing he could, “I think we should call the captain.”

  Twenty minutes later, both men heard the hum of a small coal engine approaching them on the hastily laid track in the mine. Because Emberfell had depended on mining for so long, the miners had found themselves going deeper and deeper into the earth below them. It had become necessary for the miners to have quicker transportation than walking the narrow tunnels. The idea had come from an engineer at the Hall of Science. A small machine, powered by a small amount of coal, that powered wheels without the use of a hand crank. They had quickly become a common place in Emberfell, “Motorized carriages” other kingdoms had called them, due to the engineers calling their invention a “motor.”

  Eventually the other kingdoms slowly adopted the new technology, but not in the manner the citizens of Emberfell did.

  Eugene could see bright lights coming down the narrow tunnel, it was the captain! He watched as the small, motorized cart came to a stop just twenty paces from where Eugene and Mainin were still eyeing the stone.

  “Gentlemen!” The captain spoke, approaching them. “I was having the best game of Crumble of my life. This better be good.”

  Neither man spoke to their superior, they sat rooted in their spots, waiting for the man to join them, saying nothing. As the man approached, Eugene noticed something odd about the carvings on the stone statue; they were similar to the small medal the captain wore on his chest, just big enough to be noticeable.

  The captain approached, “Well what-“He stopped when he saw what the men had found. “Oh lads, you found it-“the captain spoke softly. Eugene could have sworn he saw a tear escape the captain's usually hard expression. “I’m just sorry it has to end like this.” The captain said turning to the left to face the men.

  “Sorry captain? What do you-“ Mainin could not get the words out before a small knife had found its way into his forehead. The blade was half buried in the man's skull. His body dropped before the final sparks of life had escaped his eyes.

  Eugene watched the scene unfold in horror, taking no more than five seconds before his friend was on the ground. The captain turned to him, reaching for another knife. Eugene looked for an exit, but the captain had placed himself between Eugene and the only means of escape, the tunnel opening. “Captain, why?” Eugene yelled, trying to buy time as the captain slowly approached, knife in hand. Small flecks of blood had found their way onto the captain's uniform.

  “Eugene I’m sorry, I really am. But if you only knew! If you only understood that you have saved Emberfell.” He started to close in again.

  Eugene began to backup, quickly finding himself against the stone wall. The cool smooth stone was comforting to him as fear poured from every pore of his body. Then in no time at all, he felt a stinging in his stomach. He looked down just in time to see the captain burry the entirety of a larger knife into his stomach and twist. Eugene's vision began to go black as the immense pain began to spread, first from his stomach to his chest, then through his limbs. He did not feel himself sliding down the wall, but he soon found himself staring at the stomach of the captain, sitting, his vision becoming darker by the second.

  Eugene tried to move his arms, but the strain only caused a fresh globule of blood to escape his lips. He coughed, trying to dislodge the red phlegm from his throat. Eugene watched as the captain crouched down next to him, he expected the end. But instead, the captain sat down next to him. The captain reached for him, Eugene tried to flinch, expecting pain. But Eugene soon found himself embraced by the captain.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  He spoke softly to Eugene, “I’m sorry lad, but you and your friend have saved Emberfell, I just regret that no one will be able to know it was you.”

  The captain retrieved a small bucket from the motorized cart he had rode in on. He systematically went to filling the bucket. First, he cut the wrist of the miner that he had taken down first. He did his best to get as much of the thick liquid into the bucket as possible. Then, just as systematically, he went about doing the same to Eugene.

  The captain felt no remorse. He had done what needed to be done, that’s how he had made his way to captain. He knew this was greater than himself. He knew this was greater than Emberfell or Mephissa.

  With the small bucket now half full of the crimson liquid, the captain retrieved the small red stone from its resting place. He gingerly placed it into the bucket. Watching as it quickly disappeared below the small red waves.

  Three Months Later

  The Captain was awoken by a frantic knock on the metal door of his quarters. As he wiped the vestiges of sleep from his eyes, he reached for his pocket watch. Nowhere to be found, he gave up, reaching for his robe instead.

  The frantic knocking began again, each knock landing with more force than the last. “Captain!” he heard from the opposite side of the door.

  “I’m coming! I’m coming!” The Captain replied with a noticeable tinge of annoyance in his voice.

  “What is it- “the captain began to say as he opened the door; freezing when the realization hit. “Caro, what is it?”

  The thin wiry man had ceased moving when the Captain had forcefully opened the door. His round spectacles, which usually served to hide the man’s rat-like eyes, were missing. The Captain noticed the man’s uniform was disheveled and stained, covered only by a dark leather apron. Drops of crimson liquid had formed a distinct pattern on the man's wrists, where his gloves had ceased.

  “Caro, what is it?” The Captain asked again, all hints of annoyance removed from his words.

  “Captain, we did it!” The wiry man yelled.

  The Captain paused, mentally beginning a list of needed preparations. “Keep this to yourself, go directly back to the lab. Wait for me there. Tell, no one yet, is that clear?”

  “Yes sir!” The man shouted, saluting the Captain with a fist against the left side of his chest. The standard salute for the Emberfell military.

  The Captain abruptly closed his door and quickly began to dress in his uniform. He paused for a moment, only to stare back at the man he saw in the mirror. For the first time in longer than the Captain could remember, he looked at himself. His cropped grey hair atop his head, neatly trimmed to military regulations. The Captain then looked at his face. A sea of lines, wrinkles, and scars of war. The Captain raised his hand to the scar on his cheek. An enemy soldier had used a small iron dagger to carve half a smile into the right side of the Captain's face. The Captain had laughed at a threat his captors had made.

  The Captain's hand followed the raised flesh from the right of his mouth to his ear. “Thirty winters.” He said aloud. “Thirty winters and it still surprises me.” The Captain said to no one.

  The small flickering candle that had been illuminating the mirror for the Captain, suddenly went out. The tendrils of smoke; the last vestiges of life from the candle, followed the Captain out the door.

  It took only moments for the Captain to cross the small garrison. All around the hum of military activity could be heard. Soldiers passed, saluting the Captain as they went. The Captain cared for these men. They were here voluntarily, serving their kingdom. There was no compulsive service in Emberfell, no one forced to the front lines. But here they were, going about their duties, ready to die for their home and their prince, as was he.

  “Soldier, your helmet strap.” The Captain had said to one soldier he passed. The leather strap had come away from the red and black helmet that sat atop the soldiers head.

  “Yes Captain!” The soldier said, saluting. He then adjusted his helmet and the strap, looking back to the Captain for his approval.

  “As you were.” The Captain said, smiling.

  The soldier smiled back at the Captain before quickly resuming the duty he was assigned.

  A few moments later the Captain came to an unsuspecting building in the corner of the garrison. A small sign hung above the door, it read “Record Storage. To be locked at all times.” The Captain removed a small silver key from his cloak, inserting it into the iron padlock.

  The lock fell away, being caught by the Captain before it could hit the stone paved ground, bringing unwanted attention.

  The Captain turned the knob, slipping into the half-opened door. The Captain then found himself in a small room of floor to ceiling shelving. Yellowing bits of parchment, each in a different stage of decay, sat sprawled across every available surface.

  The Captain began walking to the back corner of the shack. The Captain stared at the stack of wooden crates and pulled. The crates pulled away as one, with ease. Where the crates had once stood, now revealed a small, winding, descending staircase. The grey stone slabs worn from the many times he had descended them.

  The Captain began the descent, careful to hold the wall as he made his way down the stone spiral. The Captain had become accustomed to the cramped space, feeling confident, he hurried himself until he had found himself in a small stone room, a burning torch on the wall for light.

  In the glow of the torch, a wooden door sat on the opposite wall, only mere paces away. Shadows danced as the Captain closed the distance between himself and the door. He grasped the doorknob, pausing for a moment. Finally, after a tired sigh, he opened the door.

  He was hit with the smell first. Always the smell. The metallic taste of iron hung in the air. Clinging to every breath the Captain took in.

  In front of him he saw Caro, standing over a shallow stone well. “Captain” Caro said, saluting again, purely out of habit.

  The Captain stared back at Caro, finally saying “show me,” devoid of any emotion. He would not let himself feel hope. He would not accept Caro’s words until he saw it with his own eyes.

  Caro walked over to a small wooden table in the opposite end of the cramped space.

  The Captain noticed piles of parchment, inkwells, quills, and a knife. A simple blade tinted crimson red; due to the violence it had seen in the last three months.

  Caro turned around again, speaking to the Captain. “As you are fully aware, the gem seems to act as some kind of prison. At your suggestion, we tried soaking it in human blood. We started to notice a change. With each new…. volunteer, the stone started to change. It transformed from the color of coal to the deep red you see now.”

  The Captain raised his hand, interrupting Caro, “Yes yes, now what’s changed?

  “Captain…. the stone is cracking.” Caro said in a low whisper.

  The Captain stood with his mouth agape for a few seconds. “You’re sure?” He asked, unable to believe it.

  “Yes, they appeared this morning.” While saying this, Caro retrieved a pair of leather gloves from a table beside the well. He nervously donned the gloves, careful to make sure they were covering every inch of skin, up to his elbow. Then, the wiry man with rat eyes, suddenly thrust his hands into the shallow well. After a moment, a smile of triumph crossed his face. Caro carefully lifted the stone to show the Captain.

  The Captain immediately noticed a few things. First, the stone had indeed changed in the months since his miners had discovered the underground vault. The second, was a longer vertical crack running from the very top of the stone to the bottom. Then, something else caught his eye, “is the crack moving?” He asked Caro.

  “From what I can tell, yes, it is. But the crack in the stone is not becoming larger, the imperfection itself is moving on the stone, when it moves to a different part, say from top to bottom, the top of the stone looks as if there had never been any damage. It really is fascinating.”

  “I need to see the prince immediately. Keep going, your orders remain unchanged.” The Captain said to Caro with a tinge of military authority in his voice.”

  “Yes sir!” Caro practically shouted at the Captain. Saluting with his gloved hand while the other cradled the stone.

  The Captain quickly turned and began to exit the small room through the way he had entered. Suddenly, he paused a moment before leaving, and spoke without facing the rat eyed man, “Caro…. good job.”