Koruk felt his way along in the darkness, holding his right hand against the cold stone wall. His head ached ever since he woke up, as though someone had dropped a rock on him while he was dreaming. Fragments of that dream still arose to haunt him, but he pushed them down, and focused on trying to figure out where he was.

  He had turned several corners, and he thought he might have circled around on himself at least once, but in general he was heading downhill, deeper into the temple. He considered that maybe he should turn back, and try to find Moktark, but he doubted he could find his way back to the entry room.

  “Might as well just see this through.” He said to himself.

  After what seemed an age, he caught a glimpse of light coming from ahead.

  “Moktark! Oben! Is that you!?” He yelled, but received only silence in reply. As he got closer, he found that the source of the light was a knot of translucent tubes, embedded in the walls. They seemed to pulsate, and reminded Koruk of giant grubs more than anything.

  “Gross.” He said, poking one. It felt like it was fully of jelly. Koruk’s stomach grumbled, and he wondered how long he’d gone without food. Too long. Still, he doubted that these were even remotely edible.

  The tubes seemed to lead off deeper into the structure, and he opted to follow them, if only to have some sort of light source.

  Koruk followed them into a large chamber. It was different than the other rooms he’d seen thus far. They had been largely barren, just empty spaces of stone without much to look at. This on the other hand…

  The room was crowded with strange devices, glowing crystals, and apparatuses he couldn’t begin to guess the function of. Clusters of the tubes ran into those machines, casting a soft blue light over the whole assembly. The floor of the room sloped down into the centre, where sat a large table-like structure of shining black stone.

  Somehow, the table seemed to dominate the room, and Koruk was drawn towards it. He laid his hands on its perfectly smooth surface, and wondered if it was supposed to do something. It had to be there for a reason right? Then again for all he knew this was where the imps ate lunch.

  As though in response to his unspoken query, the table began to glow. Thousands of tiny glowing lights swirled out from the surface like a swarm of bees, and started to amalgamate into a towering, glowing being. It seemed to stand, or rather hover, over 15 feet tall. As it formed, familiar features started to manifest themselves. A nose, mouth, arms and legs all seemed to grow out of the amorphous blob of lights, becoming a thin, feminine looking form.

  Koruk felt a voice speaking inside his head that was not his own. It was in his own tongue, but it was a strange resonant sound, like the buzzing of ten thousand insects formed into a woman’s voice.

  “Welcome, Koruk.”

  “Hello.” Koruk managed meekly. “How did you… what are you?”

  “What am I? I am the soul of this place, the Heart of Stone. I guide the young and watch them grow old, but none are as old as me.”

  “You sent the visions. Led us here.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “To draw you closer. To test you. See your character. Your innermost being. A mountain stands upon your shoulders, and only the strong can withstand the burden.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Koruk remembered the trials he had faced in his visions. He felt a bit violated, knowing that someone was watching him in his own dreams.

  “And did I pass your test?”

  “Yes.” The voice echoed through his mind. It seemed to soothe his doubts and anxiety, and Koruk was consciously aware that it was manipulating his feelings. He tried to push back against it, to keep its tendrils from snaking deeper into his mind, and it retreated.

  “I mean you no harm, young one.” The voice cooed. “I mean to bring you a warning.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Koruk saw Oben stumble into the room, the lamp cradled between his hands. Koruk ran up to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Oben! It’s good to see you! I’m glad you’re alright!” Koruk said, but his smile faded when Oben looked up at him. The human’s eyes looked dishevelled. His hair was a mess. But it was his eyes that Koruk noticed most. Haunted, black ringed eyes.

  Oben looked at Koruk in a kind of dull shock.

  “You live?” He asked.

  “Well yeah, last time I checked.”

  “Tricks.”

  A voice in his head called him back. Oben appeared to notice it too, his haunted eyes widening suddenly.

  “Doom is upon this world.” The voice echoed in Koruk’s mind, and when he turned back to the apparition of light it seemed to glow with increased intensity with every word spoken.

  “Ghosts of the old world return to consume the young. The wolf howls at the white moon. He hungers for the dust of the world. The pig and the goat must stand together, or be devoured together.”

  “Can you try not speaking in riddles? What is that suppose to mean?” Koruk bit back.

  In response, Koruk began to see images, projected into his mind. Images that didn’t make a lot of sense. He saw grey towers rising over the towns of his people. He saw glittering spires spinning through a void of stars. He saw hundreds of humans, marching in lockstep, emerging from the bellies of shining birds.

  The humans at least, he understood.

  “There’s going to be more humans come? Is that the doom?”

  “Yes.”

  Oben’s eyes widened further. Understanding dawned on him, and he temporarily suppressed the feeling of horror churning in his gut. He stepped in front of Koruk, arms outstretched.

  “Do not listen!” He implored. His eyes burned into Koruk’s.

  “Why not?” Koruk asked.

  “It tricks! It is… it is demon. Demon god of red men! It tricks, and red men attack!” Oben stammered, trying to find the words in the harsh orcish tongue.

  “The visions seem real to me.”

  “No! It tricks! It lead here, so red men attack! They sit outside black… uh, hut. Demon lead you to attack!”

  Koruk tried to parse the broken orcish. It was true that they had come under attack as soon as they had arrived at the temple, and the red men were generally hostile to them.

  “Are the imps your servants?” He asked the being of light. “Did you lead us here so they could attack us?”

  “They are my servants, but I do not control them. They are free to pursue their own path, as are all the young who frolic through the garden.”

  “You see? It is enemy.” Oben continued. There was a desperation in his voice that Koruk had never heard before.

  “Are you some kind of god to the imps? Why did they attack us at the foot of the temple?”

  The reply was cut short when Oben darted forward towards the table. He had drawn his knife. Koruk jolted, seeing the knife in Oben’s hand again.

  “Stop him!” The voice hissed in Koruk’s mind. He hesitated though. What if Oben was right, and it was another trick?

  Oben approached the table, and quickly appraised it. While Koruk watched in confusion, he grabbed one of the glowing tubes, and ripped it out of the base of the table. The being of light began to lose shape, as the motes that made up its body started to drift away from their positions. Another tube was ripped out. Viscous fluid spilled onto the floor from the table from the holes left by Oben’s vandalism.

  “Stop him!” The voice repeated.

  “Oben, stop!” Koruk yelled. The human ignored him.

  Oben noticed something shining inside the table, and reached his hand inside one of the wounds he had created. His hand gripped something hard and hot, and he pulled hard.

  All at once the apparition vanished, the motes of light scattering into the air, seeming to flee into crevices in the walls. The room grew dark, as the light from the crystals and tubes faded away.

  Only two sources of light remained. The lamp, burning low on the floor near Koruk’s feet, and a soft blue glow cradled in Oben’s hands.