Wish

Dreams || Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Faded Blade

Talo was set to be sputtered at by multiple embers as golden power erupted from every torch held on the stairwell wall, as the orb of Light passed by. Warmth was fruitful now thankfully, at least it was something to be grateful about, he thought.

He hadn't a great liking or even tolerance for heights, but curiosity overtook his natural fear as he realised that there was no railing. He slightly, hesitantly strafed to the right, and began to look down. The space did get gradually tighter as they went down, and the end of the staircase seemed to have only a little room left in the middle.

But, it still seemed to go on forever, and if he simply misplaced his foot... "Wow, that wouldn't feel very nice..." He looked up at the Light. Hehe. "Don't even try me, you 'quirky'-ass orb."

It seemed to accept that, but he could still hear its giggle as it thought about it. Whilst he was still very close to more and more flames alighting in radiance, the warmth began to subside a bit, and the cool entered him again. He was a bit shaky now, and he could see his breaths exit his mouth and transform into mist in the air. He huddled up again, but he could tell they were getting closer to the end. By how much? That's where he was unsure.

The cracks and chips that were somewhat present on the upper steps were completely gone. It's possible that some very small creatures, like roaches and bugs could've gotten into the temple through small openings and caused some sort of erosion. But for whatever reason, they had not reached down. He had a suspicion of why. As they went down, it became harder to see, some sort of thin mist overcasting his vision.

The only things he could see were the stairs he was on, the Light and the torches it ignited, and the small area around any of those. The chill set in, and that combined with a sudden feeling of dread, fear and hesitation, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, goosebumps popping up all over his skin. The only reason he didn't turn back and run, was the near comfort of the Light ahead of him. Otherwise, he'd turn heels quicker than you could say, "It's so cold here..."

He put his hands to his shoulder, sort of embracing himself, conserving warmth. The Light slew down its pace, now much closer to him. It helped, but not by much. Now he couldn't see the top floor of where the staircase began. No wonder no creature had reached down this far. Not even natural erosion seemed to be able to grasp at it.

The spiralling staircase made anything that stepped on it spiral themselves, their minds becoming clouded and nearly distorted, unwinding in horror and coldness. He could feel his own sanity begin to freeze away and fall off, the only things keeping him from off the edge of madness losing their effect on him.

His own footing became messier, and bumping into the wall and getting uncomfortably close to the edge occurred more often. If he just went a little too close to the side, or strafed into the flames just a little too much, it could end very badly. Yet, something was telling him he was closer to the end. Persevere.

Despite every natural instinct, despite all of his muscles and every cell in his brain telling him to run, he persevered. The deeper and tighter the space became, the mist thickened. He could barely see in front of himself. Frost bit and clawed at him, beckoning to let it in and let it overcome his heart. It called its icy wail out to him, hoping he would give up and fall into the pits of its own frozen hell.

Yet, he let any embers left in his soul burn away at the cold until it was free from the barrage incoming from the depths of the stairwell. "Not... much longer... surely..." he said in between shaky breaths. Hearing his own voice kept him aware of his own presence and existence overall, almost like the cool chipped away at his very ability to process reality. Eventually, after what felt like forever in the misty, chilling spiral of nightmares, he could see everything begin to subside.