Anthos had spoken with his companions and told them about what had been happening with his dreams and Ertai, though he had avoided detailing exactly what he was about to do. They already had enough problems without worrying them with one more. He was well aware that he couldn't head into battle without resolving this first. He couldn't risk passing out from a blow, knowing that the dark druid was capable of ripping his guts out from inside his own brain.

  Now he was in his room, lying on his bed while Lord Volrath finished arranging the herbs and potions he had prepared.

  "Are you ready?" the mage finally asked, finishing a mixture of herbs. Kisenthea peeked through the door and gave him a smile heavy with worry.

  "I am," he replied with determination.

  "Remember: once you drink this brew, you will fall into a near-deep sleep, but with a slight connection to reality. If I am not mistaken, this mixture will take you straight to Hol 'Dor. The only way to wake up completely is by finding the exit, and I assume you can achieve that by defeating the dark druid."

  "Is that it? You don't have any more details?"

  "I regret that I cannot give you more information, boy. Keep in mind that Hol ‘Dor is a poorly created and chaotic reality, where the physical rules governing this world are not always respected. Cardinal points can change capriciously, clouds can move against the wind, and… the creatures that dwell in those diseased lands can be worse than nightmares themselves. Some even say that Hol ‘Dor provides shelter to those demons cast out from the Abyss." He paused briefly to look again at the thick brew he had created. "Do not overlook any detail that catches your eye. The door back, or the entrance to where the dark druid dwells, may depend on it. Do you understand me?"

  Without knowing exactly how he was going to defeat him, Anthos drank the potion and slowly began to sink deeper and deeper into the darkness, lying on his bed, following a single light that seemed to illuminate the path toward the Necromancer's foul plane.

  He opened his eyes expecting to find the ashen desert he had seen in his dreams, but it was not so. Instead, he saw a black and rocky land, streaked by thick, dark clouds, and felt a warm wind with a ghastly stench. There were deformed, leafless trees scattered capriciously across the profane hills. He looked around and saw crosses planted in the earth, with the bodies of ominous beings nailed to them in different ways. He checked himself and discovered that all his belongings were with him.

  "The desert is only an intermediate between dreams and this reality. Now you are here completely, Anthos," he heard in his mind, as if a thought had suddenly revealed itself.

  "What the hell...?" he said, startled by the voice, though for a moment he believed it might have also come from the wind. It was Ertai’s voice. Despite the fact that it drove him mad, he was speaking the truth. Anthos did not feel bound or rigid as he did in his dreams. He could move freely. However, he didn't actually know for certain which way to go.

  "Puppy, puppy, come here puppy. Come on, be a good dog and come play..."

  He began to walk and noticed three places that caught his attention: to his right, he spotted a hill with a few trees and a small hut, as utterly dilapidated as everything else in that place. Directly in front of him lay what appeared to be the path toward a small village. Finally, to his left, past the hills and several hundred meters away, he saw a colossal fortress...

  "Tash-Kumak Castle, dipstick. What are you waiting for?"

  "The castle it is, then," he said aloud, noticing that his voice carried a distant echo. Almost immediately, the wind brought hundreds of wailing screams. He looked at the ground and saw grotesque larvae squirming between the stone and the rotting weeds.

  He advanced up the hill and reached the imposing dark castle. He saw that it was built entirely of stone and possessed towering spires that even surpassed the grotesque clouds. The stones were black, and upon the roofs—mostly built with gables—sat enormous, monstrous gargoyles. It seemed to have a storm of its own brewing above; despite the lack of rain, thunder rumbled and the clouds flashed every so often with lightning.

  As he moved along the ascending path, he could see an increasing number of withered trees, as well as graves and crosses with deformed animals nailed to them. He realized that behind the castle, there was no land, but rather an enormous cliff that descended as far as the eye could see—or as far as the thick, greenish mist of that infinite abyss allowed.

  Finally, he reached the gates.

  They were constructed of a material similar to iron, but completely black and matte, reflecting no light at all. It was entirely covered in spikes. It featured an enormous knocker with the face of an eyeless human holding the ring in its mouth, and immediately below it, a lock. He grabbed the iron handle, and upon touching it, felt a shiver run down his spine. However, the door did not open.

  He heard Ertai’s cackle in his head.

  "A key… of course…" he said to himself. "Check even the smallest detail. Sure, Volrath, very enlightening…" He thought of the other two places he had seen and decided to head toward the dilapidated house.

  Truth be told, he wasn't very happy about having to go to that place. The two-story house looked completely abandoned, except for the smoke rising from the chimney. The roof tiles were broken, as were the gray walls, and inside, only darkness could be seen. The wood of the windows, frames, and columns was visibly rotted. The porch roof at the entrance had collapsed to one side, forcing him to crouch down to pass through. The macabre breeze tossed his hair from side to side, as if it intended to purposefully obstruct his vision.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "What the hell am I going to find in here?" he muttered to himself.

  "Good dog."

  "Shut your mouth and show your face for once, Ertai." He received no answer other than bursts of laughter.

  He reached the house's portico and drew his sword. He knew that if Ertai was hiding there, he would want to attack with everything he had and surprise him in any way possible. He kicked the door, and it gave way violently, slamming against the opposite wall before swinging half-shut again. He peered inside and saw an entrance hall and a door leading to a hallway. He thought he saw a swift shadow pass by at the end of it. Cold sweat began to drip down the back of his neck. He could feel his own breath and even the drumming of his heart in an irregular rhythm. The hair on his neck stood completely on end. It was obvious that something was very wrong with this place.

  He saw a staircase to his right. For a moment, he hesitated between exploring the upper floor or staying on the ground level, but he decided to start climbing those rotten, uneven planks. The wood of the stairs creaked like a true haunted house. He noticed a window where the branches of a deformed tree clawed from the outside. There was a room to his left and apparently another hallway, identical to the one on the ground floor, to the right.

  The hallway was long and seemed to be in worse condition than the rest of the house, as if some kind of fight had taken place there or it had collapsed under some kind of brutal force. As he walked down it, he found no great revelations, beyond the typical cobwebs, dust, and the degradation characteristic of an ancient and seldom-visited place.

  He was about to start down the stairs he had just climbed when, suddenly, a twisted figure appeared before him. It was a ghostly face with stark white skin, empty eyes, and long black hair waving as if underwater. It had no lips, and a full row of sharp, irregular teeth were bared in a kind of macabre smile. The image lasted only seconds, but it was enough to send him tumbling down the stairs.

  "Shit!" he yelped, bouncing off the steps until he hit the floor.

  A mocking laugh echoed in his head once more: "Are you close, Anthos?Or are you far?"

  "Shut your mouth and show yourself..."

  At that moment, at the end of the hallway, an aberrant and deformed creature appeared. It seemed to be made of shreds of poorly stitched skin. It lacked eyes and a nose but had a massive mouth filled with several rows of sharp, yellowish teeth. A dark, drooling tongue flicked out intermittently, like the movement of a snake. It had long arms that nearly reached the ground, ending in bony fingers and claws as sharp as razors. The being walked with a twisted, trembling gait, as if in constant agony, emitting a scent so nauseating it would have repelled even the foulest vermin.

  "Aaaaaah!" it shrieked upon seeing the stranger, and almost immediately began to pick up speed to reach him.

  Anthos, still on the floor, remained motionless for a few seconds, paralyzed by the panic of the surreal and bizarre spectacle before him. He reacted at the very last moment, rolling aside just as the creature was about to pounce on him. Fortunately, he managed to dodge its claws, but the being—taking advantage of the fact that the outsider was on the ground—immediately scrambled on top of him and opened its maw, trying to reach his face. Anthos dropped his sword and grabbed his dagger. He began to stab it frantically into its sides. The aberration didn't seem to notice the punctures and continued its attempt to tear a piece out of the guide with a single bite.

  "Just... die... already!" Anthos screamed, gasping for air as he plunged his dagger repeatedly while using his other arm to hold the beast back, bracing his forearm against the monster's neck. It possessed an unnatural strength, despite how flaccid its body appeared.

  At a certain point, he began to feel his hand grow damp as the grotesque being lost its strength and began to fall apart. Finally, the creature slowly faded out, collapsing onto the floor. Anthos had stabbed it with his dagger so many times that whatever the beast contained within had leaked out, spreading across the ground. It looked like a kind of black, gelatinous, amorphous mass that gave off a nauseating stench. The outsider watched in horror as it bubbled and seemed to move.

  "By all the gods… what the hell is wrong with this place?"

  "There are no gods here, puppy." Again, Ertai’s cynical voice.

  He was still trying to catch his breath when he saw a deformed old woman appear at the end of the hallway, her head disproportionately large and featuring an enormous, smiling mouth. She wore a dress that must have been pink once, now completely frayed and filthy. She walked slowly, twitching every so often. Her eyes were hidden behind what appeared to be dark crystals. In her hands, she carried a tray filled with what looked like cookies.

  Anthos could not believe the grotesque spectacle of aberrant beings he was witnessing.

  "Oh, dear," said the old woman. She emitted a foul stench, as if she had soiled herself days ago. Her breath was no better. He stood up quickly, keeping his guard up and maintaining his distance.

  "Get back, or you'll suffer the same fate as that... thing."

  "I told him he shouldn't go out to play at this hour... a cookie?"

  "I said get back!" Anthos lunged with a warning thrust, but the smiling old woman paid him no mind, looking at him as if he were a child playing a prank.

  "We don't have many visitors around here, do we, Fluffy?" she said, disdainfully kicking the twisted body the guide had just killed.

  "Where is Ertai?" Anthos asked. The old woman knelt before the body, and the guide watched in horror as she began to tear open Fluffy's chest with her bare hands. Black blood started splashing her face and running across the floor toward his boots as she rummaged inside like she was searching for something in a drawer. The sound of her fingers squelching inside the monster's body was almost as repulsive as her appearance and smell.

  "You’re going to need this, dear," she said, handing him the freshly removed heart. "Otherwise, you won't be able to get in."

  "Get in where?"

  "To the church, where the key is kept... Take it!" Suddenly, her voice turned unnaturally deep, loaded with a profound and irrational authority.

  Anthos took the dark heart, which was still beating. He couldn't help but vomit onto the floor of that hideous place. He looked at the old woman one last time and decided he had had enough of that house. In one final, fleeting glance, he saw the aberrant creature on all fours, eating what he had just thrown up.

  He shook his head and left.