P-Bristle Woods Chapter 43

Read Table of Content | +Kyla Scurchio
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     I stumbled my way out of the tower and down to the arch where I had acquired my runic tattoos. When I got there I realized I had no idea where I was headed. I needed to get back but wasn’t even close to knowing how to do that.
     “Now what!” I grumbled tossing my arms into the air. At that moment a ripping sound shattered the silence as the Realm ripper mouse stepped into existence. I stared him down as he smirked at me.
“Seen enough hunter?” it asked mischievously.
     “You have a knack for turning up at times like this.” I replied. He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Follow me then.” he said as he split the air between us. “This will be the last time you see this place Plankrun.” There was a look in his eye that I didn’t like but he was indeed my only way back. At least
that I knew of, I was too nervous to explore this land on my own.
     When I stepped into the crack that separated worlds and time I felt my stomach lurch. I was sent sprawling and was instantly slammed onto my face. The pressure in my head built up, and then it was calm. When I looked up once more I was back in the kingdom. Relief washed through my veins. The grove was empty and I was alone, another reason to feel relief. It appeared the ripper hadn’t followed me back, so I got up and found my way to the catacombs door.
     After a while of wandering the twisting passages I sat in the darkness to think. It was clear that I could no longer put off what I needed to do, even though i had tried very hard to do just that. I was going to have to destroy the Acolytes, and I’d have to do it alone. I thumped my head against the stone wall while I thought. It only agitated me more when the headache kicked in. ideally I would have talked myself out of it, perhaps sent word out to the kingdoms to search for Zugzwang; after all I could sure use his help. The only thing left for me to do was delve into the magic. Magic I didn’t know existed a few short months ago. I would have to study, and I would have to create something strong enough to hold the acolytes until I could banish them.
     I found myself on my feet again hardly noticing where I was going, I just followed the keepers candle till my foot hit a step. I looked up, tearing my gaze from the stone floors to find I had reached the stairs that would lead to the Mousoleum. I sat on the last step, no longer worried about what I could encounter, some things were just inevitable.
     I pulled out the old spell book Z had handed me what seemed ages ago. I flipped to the middle and it occurred to me that the book was useless. The magic I would need would predate the book, as did the mice I was trying to destroy. My eyes flicked towards some of the old runes on my skin. They didn’t really glow in this realm they stayed jet black against my skin but still, still I could read them.
     Twisting this way and that across my skin were old rhymes and riddles, ancient text and prophecies, magic and knowledge no man should ever have the pleasure to divulge himself in. power etched its way across my skin and suddenly I felt heavy. So much could be accomplished if I decided to let the power take me. But I was no wizard, I was a hunter and as such I could only use the power I felt flowing through me to do one thing, destroy the enemy.
     I began to empty my pockets out frantically looking for anything I could that may be of use in trap making. I put the old stone and staff to the side, hoping their runic markings would be of use later. My pile was small, most would call it rubbish. I had a pile of scrap metal I had acquired in the catacombs, and an old bit of rope. No one said it was going to be easy.
     After studying my runes I began to whisper spells in a language that tasted bitter on my tongue. I fixed the rope to where length was no problem. Whatever length is needed it would do the job. After I sat that next to the staff I began on the metal. I pounded the pieces down speaking the runic language to heat the metal as I worked. I molded a hinge first one that twisted and bent when I needed it too. The next piece of metal I fixed split apart at the base into two pieces forming an open square. As I spoke the language got away from me and runes began to appear on the metal itself, but I continued on.
     I worked long and hard, speaking the language for so long I panicked when I couldn’t remember my own birth language. Slowly, very slowly my own words came back to me. I sat back and took in deep breathes. Magic was always dangerous. I wasn’t sure how Z ever managed to handle it. I looked at the pile of mismatched items and stared. I needed to fix them together properly before I could perform the binding spell that would complete it.
     I felt sweat bead down my neck as I started once more on my trap. Time meant nothing to me in the catacombs. It was dark always, so I didn’t know if days had passed or hours. For that matter I wasn’t sure how long I was in the other realm before I made it back. It could have been years if time moved differently. I shook my head not willing to think like that. I fixed the pieces together like an intricate puzzle. I bonded it all together for a very powerful and yet very basic trap.  First impressions would say it wasn’t dangerous, and that’s exactly what I wanted. Something so basic the Acolytes wouldn’t dare fear it, and so it would make defeat easier for me.
      I felt the first jolt of excitement course through me, causing the runes on my skin to dimly glow. One way or another I was getting out of the catacombs. If I failed I firmly believed there was nothing more I could do without Z. And if I was successful I would finally be able to start the man hunt for Zugzwang. Either way, it was ending tonight. I grabbed up my things and marched myself into the darkness. There would be no need for a candle this time.