Legacy of the Eldric
Sample Chapter
Nemesis in the Dark
The tremor intensified, and Kaplyn glanced at the others. He caught Lars’ eye–fear flickered there, raw and unguarded. Before Kaplyn could offer any reassurance, a cold, subterranean gust swept through, making their torches sputter. An eerie moan followed, echoing off the stone and sending a chill down his spine.
“That tremor was stronger,” Lars said, gripping his torch so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Kaplyn shook his head. “It just feels worse now that we’re on the cavern floor and through that odd barrier,” he replied, though he couldn’t help glancing back at the steep stairs behind them.
Suddenly, a harsh light erupted from the heart of the cave, forcing Kaplyn to squint against the glare.
Beside him, Lomar raised an arm to shield his eyes.
“Are you alright?” Kaplyn asked quietly.
Lomar nodded, lowering his arm as darkness rushed back in.
Vastra strode up, his presence as commanding as ever. “Which way?” he demanded.
A shiver ran down Kaplyn’s spine, and for a moment, a half-
Kaplyn steadied himself. “We must be close,” he said.
“You fool. You have no idea what’s ahead. Give me the pendant before you get us all killed,” Vastra snapped, thrusting out a hand.
The venom in Vastra’s voice made Kaplyn’s heart race, but he kept his composure, meeting Vastra’s outstretched hand with cold contempt.
“We agreed Kaplyn keeps the pendant, Vastra. Don’t push this,” Lars said through gritted teeth.
Vastra muttered something under their breath, slipping quietly to the rear of the group.
“Thanks,” Kaplyn said, offering a grateful smile to the other man. Lars replied only with a silent nod.
Turning away, Kaplyn focused on the path ahead. The torchlight flickered weakly, barely illuminating the jagged boulders and a looming column of rock in the distance. The air was thick and damp, pressing in on them as if the mountain itself sought to smother any trace of light or hope.
“We need to go that way,” Kaplyn announced, his voice tense.
Lomar narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness where Kaplyn pointed.
“Are you certain?” Lomar whispered by Kaplyn’s side.
Kaplyn hesitated, then admitted, “I feel as though the pendant is guiding me.”
“You could be wrong,” Vastra snapped from the shadows. Kaplyn bit back a retort as Vastra continued, voice low and wary. “That pendant is no trifle. Only a sorcerer would truly know its purpose.”
“And that would be you, of course?” Lars said, his eyes glinting with a dangerous edge.
Vastra snorted, raising both hands in mock surrender as he stepped back from the big man, a crooked smile flickering across his thin face. “So be it. But when things go wrong, remember my warning.” As if on cue, the ground shuddered beneath them, followed by a deep, ominous rumble.
The men exchanged uneasy glances. Vastra started to speak, but the words died on his lips when Kaplyn shot him a sharp glare. The tremor lingered in the air, its threat amplified by Vastra’s recent warning.
Kaplyn took the lead. Not far along, he stumbled over a loose rock, barely catching himself before falling. He lifted his torch, its flickering light revealing a jagged channel cutting across their path from the right. Just ahead, the channel twisted, aligning itself with the direction they needed to go.
Carefully, Kaplyn picked his way through the scattered rocks. Vastra, perhaps out of nerves, kicked a pebble, sending a loud clatter echoing through the cavern.
“Don’t do that,” Lars hissed.
Vastra shot him an icy look.
Kaplyn exhaled, scanning the darkness beyond the channel for any clue to guide their way. The light from their torches failed to reach the far side. The channel wasn’t deep, but a misstep in the dark could lead to an injury.
Moments later, something began to take shape ahead, slowly emerging from the gloom. Kaplyn slowed, eyes straining to make sense of the shadowy form.
Lomar was the first to recognise it. “A tree? Here? That’s impossible.”
Kaplyn edged closer, his hand outstretched, drawn by a force he couldn’t name.
“Don’t touch it,” Lars warned sharply, grabbing Kaplyn’s shoulder with a grip that betrayed his fear.
Kaplyn shook him off, forcing a calm he didn’t feel. “It’s just a fossil,” he insisted, though his voice wavered. His fingers brushed the bark. It was impossibly smooth–like glass–and gleamed with an unnatural, ebony sheen.
“A tree couldn’t survive this deep underground…could it?” Lars whispered, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
“Maybe, once, there was a crack in the mountain above,” Kaplyn replied, glancing upward into the suffocating darkness. “And perhaps this channel was once a river.”
Lars hesitated, then spoke, voice hushed. “My people tell a legend about the world’s beginning. They say everything was barren, except for a single tree. Its roots drank deep from the earth’s life force, growing powerful, its fruit brimming with life.”
He stepped forward, hand trembling as he touched the ancient bark. “From that first fruit, the gods were born. They looked upon the empty world–a blank page, waiting for their story. They shaped plants and animals as the fruit ripened, creating all living things. If this is truly that tree…” His words faded, swallowed by the silence, as awe and dread mingled in the darkness around them.
“Look at the ends of the branches,” Lomar whispered.
Kaplyn followed his gaze. Suspended from the slender twigs were several twisted shapes–once, perhaps, they had been fruit, but now they hung shrivelled and petrified, as lifeless as the tree itself. Lomar reached up, fingers brushing one of the shapes. It refused to yield, clinging stubbornly to the branch.
Suddenly, Lomar recoiled as if burned. A strangled cry escaped him as a fierce light burst from deep within the trunk, racing along the branches in a blinding surge.
They staggered back, shielding their eyes. The brilliance faded just as swiftly, swallowed by a darkness that poured from the heart of the tree, devouring every trace of light until night engulfed them.
Stunned, they stared at one another, speechless. Beneath their feet, Kaplyn sensed a deep rumbling, swelling rapidly into a terrifying crescendo–then, as abruptly as it began, the tremor ceased, leaving behind a silence so profound it seemed to suffocate the world.
Without warning, a chorus of whispers erupted, making Kaplyn flinch. He spun, searching for the source, but the voices pressed in from all sides, growing louder, more frantic, until shrieks and wails filled the air. He could almost feel hot breath against his skin, and terror rooted him to the spot.
“What is it?” Lars wailed, stumbling as another tremor rattled the ground. Kaplyn reached out, steadying him.
“Hush,” Vastra commanded, raising a hand.
Instantly, the voices dwindled to a faint murmur.
“What’s happening?” Lars snapped. “This place is not meant for mortals.”
Kaplyn stood frozen, haunted by the memory of those voices.
“We should go,” Lomar urged, eyes darting for an escape. “This place is guarded by the dead!”
“Nonsense,” Vastra hissed, voice barely more than a breath. “We must wait. The time is nearly right–and if it is the dead we hear, they cannot harm us.”
Kaplyn hesitated, torn between caution and curiosity, just as a faint glow caught his eye. He turned back to the tree. From deep within its trunk, a pale light blossomed, slowly unfurling along the bark. The glow was weaker than before, but Kaplyn stood transfixed, unable to look away, spellbound by its eerie beauty.
Night pressed in around them, making the tree seem even more otherworldly–its silver form ablaze against the darkness, casting everything else into shadow and insignificance.
“Look!” Lars cried, his voice trembling as he pointed. Kaplyn followed his gaze. Above Lomar’s head, a delicate bud appeared, glowing with its own inner light. Petal by petal, it unfurled, releasing a scent of spring that seemed impossibly out of place.
Kaplyn stepped closer, drawn by a force he couldn’t resist. Within the blossom, a fruit began to form, swelling rapidly, trapping the silver radiance at its core. Glancing over his shoulder, Kaplyn spotted another bud, further away, pulsing with the same ghostly glow. Compelled by curiosity, he moved to investigate. It, too, shimmered with silver light.
Gradually, the brilliance in the tree faded, leaving only the fruit shining on slender branches–tiny lanterns suspended in the darkness, holding the last remnants of the tree’s mysterious power.
With trepidation, Kaplyn reached out to pluck the fruit, which fell easily into his outstretched palms. It was light and warmed his hand. About him, the light dimmed further, and he looked to see the black patch appear at the tree’s heart, slowly spreading outwards, tracing the white light’s route until the tree was plunged into night. Within the blackness, Kaplyn’s fruit continued to glow softly.
Eager to show his prize, Kaplyn returned to the others, only to find that Vastra also held a fruit, which he quickly concealed within his jerkin, blotting out its radiance. To Kaplyn’s mind, Vastra’s eyes smouldered but then abruptly the look was gone.
Kaplyn sensed a shift in the air, and a subtle change in their surroundings–a warning he couldn’t ignore. Instinct screamed that it was already too late to turn back the way they had come. He scanned the darkness for another escape, but beyond the trembling pool of torchlight, only a wall of shadow loomed, impenetrable and absolute.
Suddenly, the whispering returned, slicing through the silence. Kaplyn flinched, heart pounding as the voices surged around him.
“Follow me!” he cried, bolting away from the tree. A quick glance confirmed the others were close behind, their faces pale with fear. The pendant tugged at him, its pull urgent and mysterious, and Kaplyn clung to the hope that it would lead them to safety. They ran blindly, away from the path they’d known, deeper into the unknown, with no idea where the pendant was taking them.
Terror lent speed to Kaplyn’s weary limbs. All around, the whispering grew louder–no longer fading, but swelling into a cacophony of tormented souls shrieking and gibbering, as if the world itself was unravelling. The noise became unbearable, pressing in until Kaplyn feared invisible demons might descend upon them. Cries of anguish echoed to his right; he recoiled, yelping as the disorienting sounds threatened to overwhelm him.
Then, out of the darkness, a cavern wall emerged, its silhouette revealing the mouth of a tunnel. Relief surged through Kaplyn. He dashed toward it, desperate to reach safety before the shadows closed in.
A final glance back revealed Lars struggling at the rear, panic etched across his face. Suddenly, Lars let out a terrified cry and hurled his torch away, its light vanishing into the void.
Glancing back, Kaplyn stumbled on a jagged rock, nearly falling. Pain shot through his ankle, but adrenaline forced him onward. The tunnel’s mouth loomed ahead, and he hurled himself inside, spinning to face whatever pursued them.
“Keep going!” Lars screamed, his voice ragged with fear. “Don’t stop–keep going!”
Kaplyn obeyed, but almost instantly slammed into something unseen–an invisible wall that clung to him like a web. Panic surged. He fought to move, every muscle straining, his limbs sluggish as if trapped in a nightmare.
Suddenly, the resistance vanished. Kaplyn staggered forward, colliding with another body. They crashed to the stone floor, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs and sending pain lancing through his knees. Gasping, he scrambled upright. Lomar had fallen over him; Kaplyn hauled the albino to his feet just as Vastra and Lars burst into the tunnel, panting and wild-
Kaplyn glanced back. Lars’ torch lay sputtering on the cavern floor, its flame stubbornly refusing to die. Then, as if seized by ghostly hands, the torch rose and spun through the air–dancing madly before being hurled at the wall with a thunderous crack. The sound echoed, making them all recoil in terror.
“We’re safe!” Kaplyn shouted, breathless with relief. “We made it through the barrier.”
“Something cut me,” Lars complained. “Look!” He showed them the back of his leg. Through a tear in his trousers, blood welled up and trickled down his calf. Lomar knelt and, using a cloth from his pouch, dabbed the wound. It was deep but clean, and Lomar tied the cloth in a makeshift bandage.
“We should keep going,” Kaplyn said. Although he had told them they were safe he didn’t yet feel it. Behind him the tunnel continued, but to where he did not know.
He led them on with Lars hobbling to keep up. Finally, Kaplyn could go no further. He sat upon the ground and the others flopped down beside him.
Lars was trying to re-
“You needn’t worry,” Vastra sneered. “Your wound is clean and will heal in time.”
Lars looked away and Kaplyn sensed that he felt ashamed of having revealed his fear.
“Where are we? I thought we would be leaving the same way we came,” Lomar asked, looking about. Kaplyn was relieved that he had spoken for it broke the tension.
Kaplyn shook his head, unease prickling at the back of his mind. “I can’t explain it, but I knew we didn’t have time to escape that way. Climbing those stairs would have taken too long. Something told me this was the only way–and at least there was a barrier. That must mark an entrance… or an exit.”
Lomar’s voice was barely more than a whisper, heavy with doubt. “I just hope this tunnel leads out.”
The same worry troubled Kaplyn, but there was no turning back now.
“We were lucky!” Vastra exclaimed, forcing a brittle laugh.
“If this is your idea of luck, maybe it’s time we went our separate ways,” Lars growled, his eyes darting nervously into the darkness.
Vastra ignored him, pressing on. “The candle must have burned slower than I thought. We probably entered the great cavern later than planned.”
Lars’s face paled. “You mean we’ve been walking for nearly two days?”
Kaplyn glanced down at the fruit in his hand–once soft, now crystallised and warm to the touch, as if it held some secret energy.
“Can I see it?” Lomar asked, reaching out.
“Of course. We all risked our lives for it,” Kaplyn replied, handing it over.
Lomar cupped the fruit, surprise flickering across his face. “It’s warm.”
“Let me see,” Lars demanded, holding out his hand.
Lomar passed it to him. Lars lifted the fruit, its gentle radiance illuminating his features, casting strange shadows that danced across the tunnel walls.
He gave it back to Kaplyn who placed it in his breast tunic pocket. If Vastra still had his crystal he could not tell, but it was unlikely he had lost it after all their efforts.
“What does the crystal do? How will it help us find the Eldric?” Lomar asked.
Kaplyn was surprised when Vastra answered, expecting his usual silence.
“There might be some truth to Lars’ legend,” Vastra admitted. “The tree’s roots reached deep into the earth, drawing on its lifeblood. The crystal holds magic in its purest form. Think of it like a kara-
“Can we use that magic?” Lars asked, rubbing his leg.
Vastra shook his head. “I don’t think so–not in any way I know.”
“So how does it help us find the Eldric?” Kaplyn pressed.
“I can open a gateway between worlds,” Vastra said, “but I can’t keep it open for long–not long enough to search for the Eldric. The crystal’s pure magic would keep the gateway from collapsing. If the gateway closed, it would destroy the magic in the crystal, and that just isn’t possible.”
“Searching through worlds could take years,” Kaplyn said, disappointed. After everything, he’d hoped finding the Eldric would be easier.
“And we might never find them,” Lomar added.
Vastra just shrugged.
After a brief rest, Kaplyn decided it was time to move on. No one felt like sleeping; the urge to escape the oppressive tunnel and breathe fresh air was too strong. They rose, weary but determined, and pressed forward. Almost at once, the tunnel sloped gently upward.
“At last!” Kaplyn said, forcing a grin. “If it’s going up, it must be the way out.”
They walked for what seemed hours. The passage twisted and branched, a bewildering maze where every turn looked identical. Without Kaplyn’s guidance, they would have been hopelessly lost. The farther they went, the more the tunnels split, each path as unwelcoming as the last. Any hope of remembering the way back vanished.
Their optimism faded as the tunnel dipped downward again. This cruel pattern repeated–one moment the tunnel climbed, the next it plunged into darkness. Fatigue weighed them down until, finally, they could go no further. They collapsed where they stood, too exhausted to eat or set a watch, and sleep claimed them.
Sometime later, Kaplyn drifted into uneasy wakefulness. Shadows flickered at the edge of his vision. He thought he saw Vastra tracing a rune in the air, fingers moving in silence. Suddenly, a faint, unnatural light shimmered–then vanished. Too tired to speak, Kaplyn let sleep pull him under again, but a cold dread lingered. In the darkness, suspicion gnawed at him: he did not trust Vastra.