Seekers of the Unwritten - Chapter 2

The sun slowly rose on the third day of our journey. I sat up in my bedroll in our campsite, blinking drowsily and rubbing the sore spots on my back. The grass, as it turned out, was not nearly as soft as it appeared. Ashari was already preparing breakfast, while our horses grazed nearby.

“Sleep well?” she asked.

“Not particularly. But don’t think that means I’m not eager to be on our way. The ruins of Almalas should be only about an hour’s ride from here; I can’t wait to see what we find!”

“Assuming there’s anything left to find,” Ashari reminded me.

“Don’t be such a pessimist. There must be something, however small. We’ve come all this way, and I’m not going to go back empty-handed.”

As soon as we’d finished eating, we continued riding toward our destination, until we reached the top of a hill and looked down into a wide, lush valley. A small stream wound its way down from the far side, ending in a large lake near the center. Beside the lake, I could see an area in the distance with uneven stone structures rising from the ground.

“Told you so,” I said, with a slight smirk. Ashari smiled and shook her head at me.

The two of us rode onward, at last arriving at the ruins of Almalas. We dismounted our horses and tethered them to a tree near the edge of the former city. Up close, it was easy to confirm that not all the damage was from the natural decay of time. Most buildings had been entirely demolished, and some stones still showed subtle traces of scorch marks from explosions or burning. All of it was now overgrown with vines and moss, and despite the faint signs of past violence, the place felt distinctly peaceful and calm.

We slowly made our way through the grass-covered streets, around the broken walls of what once had been houses, shops, all the places that people would visit in their daily life. Most of the ruined buildings were indistinguishable, but at one corner I saw a severely rusted anvil standing alone among a field of rubble: the last trace of a blacksmith’s forge that had once stood here, a long time ago. I wondered if the city used to have something like the Loremasters’ hall, and whether it was too much to hope that any of their records might’ve survived all these years.

“Well, we’ve found Almalas. Now to see about finding anything useful,” I mused.

Ashari nodded. “We should split up, look for anything relatively intact. And keep an eye out for tools, weapons, or other objects; I can try to identify any characteristics that might indicate where and when they were made to see whether or not it matches what we’d expect from the history books.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to see if I can find something more scholarly in nature, should such a thing still exist.”

“Good luck,” Ashari replied, half sarcastically.

We each headed off in different directions. After a while of exploring I spotted an area that was somewhat less damaged, which could merit searching more thoroughly. I tried clearing away the plants, and quickly discovered this was not an easy task. Most were vines with thick, tough stems, difficult to cut with my small dagger, and trying to uproot them proved to be a lost cause. With some considerable effort, I managed to clear a small space, but only found more rubble. I thought about trying to burn the vines away with a fire spell, but worried that could harm the more delicate evidence potentially hiding underneath. Finally I gave up and went back to wandering the streets, exploring deeper into the city.

For a while I only saw more of the same, but then I came across a single building that was in notably better shape than those all around it. All four stone walls were still standing, and there was even an arched doorway. Curiously, the walls seemed to have just as many, if not more, scorch marks compared to the other places I’d seen. There was only one explanation I could think of: the building had been shielded by spells that let it withstand the worst of the damage when the city was attacked. That meant it must’ve been inhabited by mages long ago. Maybe, if I was lucky, this was exactly the kind of place I was hoping to find.

I entered the building and looked around. At first glance, it was just like everywhere else, and just as badly overgrown. Then I spotted a long line of runes carved on one of the walls, worn enough to be difficult to read, but not impossible. I recognized the symbols as one of the oldest systems of magic writing. Unfortunately, that was one I hadn’t studied much, due to its irrelevance in practically every other aspect of my work, but I was certain some of the Loremasters would be able to read it. I grabbed my notebook and copied the runes down as best I could. When I finished, I examined the rest of the walls more closely, and found two smaller patches of runes on the walls, half hidden by the vines. I tried to cut the vines away, but these turned out to be even worse than the previous ones.

Exasperated, I finally gave in to the temptation to take the easy way out. I stepped back from the wall and briefly closed my eyes, centering my mind on the strands of magical energy that flowed through the world around me. Then, gazing intently at the bothersome vines growing along the wall, I traced a series of elaborate shapes in the air, feeling the strands follow the movement of my fingertips, binding together into the form I desired. As I spoke the words that completed the spell, the gathered energy surged forward, and the vines in front of me burst into flames, burning away until the runes that lay beneath were fully revealed.

“That’s more like it,” I muttered to myself, and copied them in my notebook as well.

I then turned to the final patch of runes and cast the fire spell again. As the flames died down, I noticed there was a lingering red glow at the base of the wall. I bent down and cleared away some rocks and dirt, and found the glow was coming from a line in the floor. Even after all this time, there was still some kind of active magical effect here, not just vague remnants. That was as fascinating as it was unexpected.

I followed the line, clearing away more rubble as I went. The glow faded after a minute, but by then I’d found that the line ran along the edge of a metal plate set into the floor. As I continued clearing the area, I uncovered a handle, and hinges. The glow had been forming the outline of a trap door. It was barely rusted, which was quite remarkable even considering that there had been protective magic on the rest of the building. I carefully examined the trap door’s edge, searching for some kind of lock or latch, but found nothing. I pulled on the handle as hard as I could, but it didn’t budge.

Then a thought occurred to me. This was some sort of mages’ residence, after all. What if the trap door was locked, not by a physical mechanism, but by a spell, and the key was likewise of a magical nature? It had responded to my magic a few minutes ago, hadn’t it? The idea was certainly worth a shot. I cast the fire spell one more time on the bottom of the adjacent wall, and the outline of the trap door glowed again. I tried opening it again, and this time it swung open effortlessly. On the underside of the metal, there were more runes, glowing bright red.

I couldn’t help letting out a small squeal of excitement; though I’d hoped for such a find, I hadn’t seriously expected I’d encounter something like this, and on the very first day! I had always assumed that kind of luck was reserved for the old heroes of myth, not something that ever occurred in reality. And yet, here I was. This whole trip was feeling more like a quest by the minute.

Behind the trap door was a ladder going down a couple floors into a basement. I carefully climbed down. The air below was stale and musty, and the dim light that spilled through the opening above was just enough to see the cracked stone walls of the small room I was standing in. It was strange to think that I was the first living being to set foot in here in hundreds upon hundreds of years; though I knew all those who once lived here were long gone, I still lowered my voice to a whisper when I cast another spell to conjure a small orb of light that hovered above my palm.

The things in here seemed to have been spared from the destruction of the city, but less so the passage of time. There was a rickety chair and a desk with a few brittle scrolls sitting upon it, one of which lay open beside a dried-up inkwell and old quill pen. There were a few shelves, empty except for a few crystals and one small metal box. I carefully lifted the latch of the box and peeked at its contents. Inside there were a few pieces of simple jewelry, all of which had lingering traces of magic. The crystals and jewelry box seemed sturdy enough, so I put them in my bag. I didn’t trust the scrolls not to fall apart if I tried to touch them, so I left them be, though I could still see the faded text of the open one. It was written in another old language that I was unfamiliar with, so I copied it into my notebook, again figuring I could find someone to translate it later.

Still giddy with excitement, I climbed back up the ladder, finished copying the runes on and above the trap door, then hurried to find Ashari, running down the streets and breathlessly calling her name. After a few minutes I heard her return my calls, and a few moments later she came running around a corner a ways away, dagger in hand.

“What’s going on? Did something happen? Are you ok?” She cried as she ran toward me.

I laughed and waved my notebook in the air. “Are you kidding? I’m better than ‘ok’! You won’t believe what I found!”

Ashari stopped and gave me an annoyed look as I met up with her. “Seriously? The way you were yelling I thought you were being chased by wild animals, or maybe had triggered some ancient defense spell! I just found a stash of old weapons and armor that I was about to investigate, possibly including some with magical enhancements! But I’m here now. What is it?”

I grinned and opened my notebook to the drawings of the runes. “These were carved in the walls of what appeared to be a mages’ guild, or the equivalent at the time. I recognize the script, but I can’t read them. Plus there was a trap door that I discovered and unlocked with a fire spell, and behind it was a secret basement with an open scroll on a desk.”

Ashari’s face lost all trace of irritation as she looked over the page. “No way… I’ve studied the ancient magic writing forms a bit, but I never thought I’d see them outside the books and relics at the Loremasters’ hall! I can’t immediately read these runes either, but given time I think I could decipher some of them. This first set reminds me of a protection spell I’ve seen a couple times in some of those books back home. I have no idea about the others, though, especially the ones on the trap door. Those are completely unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

“There was definitely some kind of protection spell on or around the building, and if it relied on runes it makes sense that they’d be carved into the building itself. But if the others are something else entirely, that’s a bit of a mystery. What else would they be permanently inscribing on their walls?”

“That’s what I want to know. You also mentioned a scroll?”

I flipped the page of my notebook, and her eyes went wide. “What is it?” I asked. “Can you read this one? What does it say?”

“Yes, I can. I might not be proficient with ancient runes, but I did learn some of the old languages in order to read the original versions of historical records and texts. It’s a letter, addressed to King Tharan, asking for assistance to break the ongoing siege. I guess it never got the chance to be sent.”

“King who?”

“One of the rulers in the early days. He was a renowned warrior, though ultimately was killed in combat. But that’s not really relevant. I’ll tell you what is interesting, though: it repeatedly mentions the “dark Guardian”—presumably Kyndara—whose forces were on the brink of overrunning the city, but also refers to them as the “former leader of the Guardians’ order” on one occasion.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was tantalizingly inconsistent with the history that we’d been taught.

Ashari continued, “There’s also a description of the dark magic used by the city’s attackers, and how it seemed to defy the rules they knew of how magic should work; it seemed to entirely annihilate objects, wiping them out of existence altogether, rather than the disintegration-via-fiery-explosion that the mages of Almalas were familiar with.”

“Well, that’s dark magic for you. Glad we don’t have to deal with that stuff anymore.”

“You and me both. Was there anything else you found there?”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I pulled out the crystals and jewelry box from my bag. “These were in the secret basement too. Any thoughts?”

Ashari picked up a crystal and squinted at it. “Not really; minerals aren’t my specialty. And I’m sure you can tell more about the traces of magic on the jewelry than I can. Hey, speaking of enchanted items, how about you come take a look at those probably-magic weapons I mentioned while I see what I can get from these runes?”

“Fair enough. Lead the way.”


That evening we set up our camp at the edge of Almalas, beside the lake. We’d gathered an impressive collection of old artifacts, though only from the time of the war, not before it. We had a couple dozen worn and battered weapons and pieces of armor, sorted into two categories: those used by Kyndara’s forces and those used by the defenders of the city. None of them were particularly remarkable individually, though a few did have faint magical auras, and were in slightly better shape than the rest.

The most interesting find by far was still the mages’ guild. Earlier in the afternoon, Ashari and I had returned to the secret basement, and she’d mentioned she knew a spell used by the Loremasters to preserve old texts, which might let us take the scrolls with us after all. She wasn’t sure if it would be strong enough to work on these, but we’d decided to try anyway, combining our magic to maximize the spell’s effect. This proved successful, and we’d opened and read the other few scrolls on the desk. These were similar requests for aid, addressed to different authority figures at the time. All the letters were now flattened and tucked safely between the pages of my notebook, though I still made copies of their text, just in case. Ashari had also made her own copy of the runes, and spent the last part of the day trying to make sense of them. She hadn’t made much progress, but refused to put it down until at last the coals from our campfire became too dim to read by.

I could barely fall asleep that night, and for once it had nothing to do with the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. I kept thinking about the letters, particularly the “former leader” line, and wondering whether it could truly be referring to Kyndara. On the one hand, I felt validated in seeing real evidence that there could be pieces of history we were missing. On the other hand, the possible implications of this particular piece included some that were more than a little disturbing.

The next morning we continued our exploration of the ruins, but didn’t find anything comparable to the first day’s discoveries. We expanded our collection of old weapons, armor, and some tools, but the only new thing of note was a sword with a line of runes engraved on the blade. It was the same script as the ones at the mages guild, and neither of us could decipher them. This sword was in better condition than any of our other finds, and its magic aura was likewise stronger, though still severely faded compared to what it must’ve been at the start.

We camped by the lake again that night, and began the trip home the following morning. It was slower than the trip over, since our horses were weighed down by the assortment of the most interesting items we wanted to bring back. After a couple more nights working out the meaning of the runes, Ashari had confirmed that the first set was indeed a protection spell, and a powerful one at that, but was still stuck on the rest.

It was late evening on the third day since leaving Almalas when we arrived back in our home town. We rode right up to the door of the Loremasters’ hall, and I dismounted and knocked until it was finally opened by Lianora.

She looked us up and down, clearly displeased. “About time you two got back! How about in the future you discuss your spontaneous field trips with the rest of us, rather than just disappearing with only a vague note to indicate what’s going on?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later, once I’ve finished settling in. Say, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in giving these a more thorough examination?” I grabbed the large bundle of weapons wrapped in a thick cloth and showed it to her.

Lianora frowned as she looked at the bundle. “Are these swords? They’re in terrible condition. I hope you’re not expecting to get these fixed up any time soon.”

Ashari also dismounted, and grabbed the even larger bundle of armor her horse had been carrying. “I think you’ll find they’re in remarkably good condition considering they’ve been sitting around outside for over a thousand years.”

“You’re kidding. Where did you get these? I doubted Naeryn’s note was fully honest but now I’m sure it was entirely a cheap excuse. Where have you really been this last week?”

“Almalas,” I said, and didn’t elaborate, even as she stared at me with increasing bewilderment while I finished collecting my gear and the other items from our expedition.

“Hey, hand me your bag, I’ll move stuff to your study while you take the horses back to the stable.” Ashari said to me.

“Why do I have to do that? How about I take things to my study and you take care of the horses.”

“I’m already holding the largest items anyway!”

“And I seem to remember you telling me that next time something like this happened, you would deal with it.”

Ashari rolled her eyes. “Ok, fine. You carry the heavy piles of ancient metal stuff, I’ll take a nice evening stroll and lead the horses safely back home. And here I thought I was being nice.” She dropped the armor bundle on the floor and turned back to the entrance. I slung my bag over one shoulder, and managed to precariously stack the sword bundle on top of the armor and started to carry both across the hall.

Lianora looked back and forth between us as we each left in different directions. “Is anyone going to tell me what the heck all this is about? Why do you care about this super old junk? And where and what is ‘Almalas’ anyway?” When neither of us responded, she followed me through the corridors toward my personal study, calling after me. “Hey, I know we’re not exactly on the best terms, but you can’t just pull a stunt like this and not tell the rest of us what it’s for!”

“Look, as I said, it’s a long story, and I’d rather tell it once when everyone’s here. I’m thinking of meeting in the library tomorrow morning. For now, let’s just say I noticed a strange inconsistency in the old maps and went to check it out, intending to go alone, but Ashari insisted on joining me.” Lianora looked unimpressed by my answer, and continued following me.

By the time we arrived at my study, my arms were starting to cramp. I dropped the bundles on the floor next to my desk and workspace, and unpacked the contents of my bag onto a table. Lianora was still staring at me, awaiting a response.

I sighed. “If you’re really curious, how about you see what you can tell me about this.” I pulled the sword with runes on the blade out of the bundle and handed it to her.

She took it and turned it over a few times. “Uh… it’s definitely magical, or at least was at one point, it’s really old, the fancy design on the hilt suggests it belonged to nobility, and these runes don’t make any sense. But I expect you knew that much.”

“That’s it? And here I thought magic weapons were your specialty.”

She shot a quick glare at me. “This thing’s magic has faded considerably. It clearly had some magical properties at one point, but right now it’s just a residual aura that doesn’t do much.”

“Then can you figure out anything about its former magic properties from the remaining aura? I can tell this one is different from the others, but I don’t know what those specific differences mean. I thought you might be more familiar with the details of weapon enchantments and have an easier time with it than I would.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises. Something this old that hasn’t been maintained at all is hard to read, which tends to make it rather boring to deal with too. You’d better have a really good explanation for why these are important tomorrow.” Lianora left the room with the sword, and I set about unpacking the rest of the weapons and armor.

As I was finishing up, Ashari opened the door. “I think we can call that a successful mission. We found Almalas, we got a bunch of interesting evidence, and we made it back. So, what now? Lianora’s not going to be the only one with questions.”

“I’m planning to get people together in the library tomorrow after breakfast to go over everything,” I said. “It’s getting late, but I’m hoping to spread the word tonight as much as possible. Can you help with that?” Ashari nodded to me. “Alright, I’ll cover the main level if you can the upper floors.”

“Sounds good, let’s go. I’ll see you tomorrow!”



To be continued...