Gharland took a step forward and stopped. He peered down at his boot. He had stepped in a pool of thick, blackened blood. It stuck to the bottom of his shoe like glue.
The blood stank of rot; it wasn’t fresh. Gharland took a step back and wiped his foot against the floor, grimacing.
“Not good,” Landry said.
“Ser, I don’t think stickin’ together is such a good plan. Too much ground to cover. It’ll take us days to search this place,” Ref said.
Ref’s face was still swollen and bruised. Each time he spoke, Tomas had to avert his eyes lest he be filled with a near-uncontrollable amount of rage.
Not now. Not now. He clenched his fist.
“Alright, we are going to split up to cover more ground,” Gharland said, turning to face his men. “Ref, Styna- take three men with you and try to find the Magister Prime’s quarters. He’s the one in charge of the Repository. John- you and I will go search the other dormitories over there. Everyone else- start searching this sanctum. Call out if you find something.”
As everyone separated and began moving out, Gharland approached Tomas and Landry. “I want you two to go investigate the basement levels down there. Maybe the Magisters took refuge down there.”
The captain pointed to a set of stairs nearby, nearly hidden in the dark, which descended down into the floor.
“Aye, ser,” Landry said.
“And squire?”
“Yes?”
“Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him out of your sight.” Gharland was looking directly at Tomas.
Landry nodded, before taking Tomas by the arm and walking to a set of stairs along the side of the circular sanctum which sank into the earth.
Landry handed Tomas his torch. “Here.”
“You sure you can trust me with this?” Tomas asked sarcastically.
Landry rolled his eyes. “Now’s not the time.”
They descended beneath the ground floor. The air immediately grew colder, danker. The stairs ended and turned into a long hall, shrouded in dark. There didn’t appear to be much to find as they went further down the main hallway. There were rooms full of old supplies, piles of rotting books and scrolls.
A small drainpipe blocked by a rusted iron grate sat beneath their feet. Chilled winds blew in through the pipe from outside at the far end, creating a sinister howling noise.
Everything down in the basement appeared dead.
Then they heard it.
There was a shuffling sound up ahead, kind of like footsteps. Both the boys froze upon hearing it. Tomas used the torch to light the way as Landry kept his sword out, ready for anything that may come.
They heard it again. There was definitely something moving in the room ahead. Then they saw a source of light from behind the door.
Someone was alive back there. But was it a survivour? Or an Imperial soldier?
Tomas’s heart raced as they reached the door. He took the handle with one hand, torch held in the other, ready to swing it open for Landry. He nodded to the squire and pushed against the door with all his strength before stepping back to allow Landry to immediately jump in to surprise the person on the other side.
Inside the room stood a young woman, no older than Tomas, holding a torch of her own. She wore a brown, floppy tricorn hat on top of her head and a sleeveless dress stained and covered in dirt. Around her neck hung a small vial of black liquid.
Upon hearing the door slam open, she jumped with terror and screamed as the boys entered, swinging her torch at them.
“Who are you?!” the girl shouted, brushing her long red hair out of her wide-eyed face. She waved the torch at them defensively.
Tomas held out a hand to try to get her to calm down. “Easy, easy. We aren’t going to hurt you,” he said.
Landry, however, kept his sword pointed directly at the girl. He was not as sure.
“Answer me- who are you?!” the girl repeated.
“My name is Tomas; this here is Landry.” Tomas put his hand on Landry’s outstretched sword, urging him to lower it. “We are soldiers of the king’s army, sent here on a rescue mission.”
The girl’s fearful expression suddenly turned to relief. “Oh, thank the heavens above!” She lowered her torch, breathing a sigh of relief.
It was then Tomas realised what else was in the small room they had just entered. Behind the girl, scattered across the floor, were shadowy figures and lumps with long chains connecting them to the stone walls.
Tomas held out his torch to illuminate the strange-looking shapes.
They were bodies. About a dozen of them. All small, only the size of children.
Both Tomas and Landry gasped in horror. “What…the fuck?”
Landry raised his sword once again. “What the fuck is this?! Are those kids?”
The girl dropped her torch to the ground, realising she was in danger. She raised her hands. “Wait, I can explain-”
Tomas pushed past her. He used the torch to further inspect the corpses. The smell hit him first like a wall of intense rot, almost sweet-smelling. Their skin was all blackened, their eyes were missing. The children’s faces were all unnaturally mangled and misshapen, their postures contorted.
It looked like they died screaming.
They were long dead.
“Answer him!” Tomas shouted, pointing the torch at the girl. “What is this? Did you do this?”
“No, of course not!” the girl said. “Please, if you will calm down, I can explain.”
“Explain, then.” Tomas could feel the sting in his eyes as sweat dripped down his face. He was enraged. Who were these children? Who had done this to them?
“My name is Lynn Jhono,” the girl said. “I’m a Disciple with the Magister’s Imperium.”
Tomas shook his head. “A ‘Disciple’? What is that?”
“It means I’m training to become a Magister one day.”
Despite the situation,
