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    drown
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story has elements of violence, sex, and strong language. 18+

Oregon in the Fall - 13. Chapter Thirteen: Descent

I just stood there, unable to move, for what felt like weeks.

The aftermath of Mark’s demise left a silence as heavy as the ancient stones that surrounded us. We were still locked in place by the unseen force that had held us during the ritual, and could only stare in horror at the spot where Mark had stood. The glowing symbols on the floor dimmed to a faint pulsing light, a macabre reminder of the sacrifice that had just transpired.

As the magical constraints released us, we rushed to the center, to the exact place where Mark had vanished. But there was nothing there—no trace of him, just the cold, hard ground of the labyrinth’s entrance.

“Mark!” Dave’s voice broke through the silence, a mix of desperation and disbelief. He dropped to his knees, hands scraping over the stone as if he could somehow unearth his newfound brother from beneath.

I stood beside him, my mind racing for explanations, for solutions. Yet, the stark reality confronted us with undeniable finality: Mark was gone, absorbed by the magic we barely understood, a magic we had thought would be our salvation. But it wasn’t.

“We need to get him back,” Dave said, his voice raw. He looked up at me, his eyes a storm of grief and resolve. “We can’t let this be the end.”

I nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at me. “We will,” I managed to say, though I had no idea how. The labyrinth’s entrance, now open, seemed to beckon us forward, an unspoken challenge to continue the journey we had started together. But all I wanted to do right now was turn around. It was all wrong.

Clara, who had been standing a few steps behind us during the ordeal, finally stepped forward. Her face was pale, her usual composure shaken by what she had witnessed. “The heart of Labirinthoset,” she said quietly. “That’s where we’ll find the answers. That’s where we’ll find a way to bring him back. But we need to ask Maio and Deia for more information. We are so very unprepared.”

“You want us to turn around first and retreat?” I asked.

She nodded. But just as she did, the walls behind us came crumbling down with violent thunder.

Dave rose to his feet, his jaw set. “This place has other plans for us.”

And then, with a heavy heart, we crossed the threshold of the ancient door, stepping into the labyrinth that had claimed one of our own. The air inside was cool and stale, the passage lit by a dim, ambient glow that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

The labyrinth was a maze of corridors and chambers, each turn and doorway promising both peril and discovery. Whispers echoed off the stone, voices not unlike the one that had guided us here—a chorus of the past, perhaps, or the labyrinth itself speaking to us.

As we ventured deeper, the weight of Mark’s absence was a constant shadow, a reminder of the price already paid. Yet, with each step, the determination to rectify what had happened, to make his sacrifice meaningful, drove me forward.

Dave led the way, his determination a beacon in the dim light. His shoulders bore the weight of loss and responsibility, a visible testament to the burden of leading us through this unknown. Clara walked beside me, her presence a silent reassurance. She occasionally reached out to touch the walls, as if seeking guidance or perhaps solace from the labyrinth itself.

Dave stopped and said, “My necklace is warm.”

He was holding the necklace that his grandmother had gifted to him not long ago.

“Let me see,” I said. Dave removed it from his neck and held it out to me. As I took it, the skin of my fingers singed immediately. “Ow!”

I dropped it, not wanting to hurt myself any further. It fell to the floor and landed with an audible and heavy thud, a sound that didn’t fit its very light weight. As it lay there, a faint yellow glow emanated from it.

“Wait, how was Mark able to wear his necklace with it being silver?” Clara said.

I shrugged. Didn’t even think about it before.

Dave reached down to pick it back up. “I wish it could show us the way to Mark.”

“I think it might be trying to do just that,” I said.

“Then how do I use it?”

“I don’t know. Clara?”

“How should I know? I’m not part of this mystical forest magic family. And we can’t actually go back and ask your grandmother,” she said.

The air grew colder as we descended, the ambient glow from the walls pulsing gently, casting long shadows that danced around us. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of voices that seemed to speak directly to the soul. They were mournful yet guiding, urging us forward with promises of answers and retribution.

“This place is annoying,” I said.

We came to a chamber, larger than the rest, where the path diverged in three directions. The center of the room held a pedestal, atop which rested an orb, its surface swirling with a mesmerizing array of colors. Clara approached it cautiously, her hand hovering just above its surface.

“This is an Aeon Orb,” she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. “It’s said to contain the essence of time, capable of showing past, present, or potential futures.”

“Can it show us Mark?” Dave asked.

Clara closed her eyes, concentrating. The orb pulsed brighter, and then the air before us rippled, revealing a vision. It was Mark! He was standing as if he were right there in the chamber with us, but his image was translucent, flickering like a flame in the wind.

The vision of Mark turned towards us, his expression serene. “The path you’ve chosen is fraught with danger, but it’s the only way,” he said, his voice echoing around the chamber. “Trust in each other, and in the journey. You must reach the heart of Labirinthoset, for there lies the key to restoring balance.”

“How can we trust you?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure this was really Mark, and I hoped everyone else was with me on that.

And so translucent Mark took the pendant from his neck into his hand and took it from his neck. He held it out to us. It was glowing green. Green. Green.

As quickly as the vision had appeared, it faded. Except for the necklace, as it fell from the air with no one holding it and made the same eerie sound Dave’s necklace had made when I dropped it. Mark’s message, while comforting, also served as a stark reminder that we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

“I’m not touching that,” I said.

Dave kneeled and picked up his brother’s necklace. He gently placed it around his neck, proudly wearing both.

“I think we should really stop touching magical artifacts until we know what is going on,” I said to him.

He glared at me angrily. I couldn’t blame him.

“We have our direction,” Clara stated, her gaze fixed on the space where Mark’s image had stood. “The heart of the labyrinth awaits.”

Choosing the path that lay directly ahead, we continued, the Aeon Orb’s light dimming behind us as we ventured deeper into the labyrinth. The passages narrowed, and the air grew thick with the scent of ancient earth. Strange symbols adorned the walls, their meanings lost to time but their power palpable in the air.

The labyrinth seemed alive, aware of our presence, shaping itself around us. There were moments when the path would clear, offering us brief respite, and others when obstacles arose from the very stone, challenging our resolve and our ability to continue.

But continue we did, driven by the mere hope that within the heart of Labirinthoset, we would find the means to resolve all of this. Each step taken was a step towards redemption, towards understanding our place within the threads of fate that had drawn us here.

We would get our answers sooner than we thought.

As we moved cautiously through the winding passageways, the dim light from the walls flickered, casting eerie shadows. The labyrinth’s air, thick with ancient whispers, seemed to press in on us, a tangible reminder of the countless souls who had traversed these paths before us. But how long ago was that? It was in this oppressive silence that something extraordinary happened.

The space before us rippled, distorting like the surface of a pond disturbed by a falling leaf. From this disturbance emerged a figure, ethereal and shimmering, yet unmistakably human in form. He introduced himself as Theodore, a name that resonated with a deep, almost forgotten magic.

Theodore’s presence was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. He stood suspended between realms, his form flickering with the same translucent quality as the vision of Mark we had witnessed earlier. Yet, there was a depth to his gaze, an ancient knowledge that spoke of lifetimes spent beyond the mortal coil.

He began to speak, his voice echoing through the chamber with a clarity that belied his spectral form. “You have followed the path laid out before you, unwittingly playing into the designs that have been woven across the ages,” Theodore revealed. His words hung heavy in the air.

What?

“What do you mean, we played into the designs?” I wanted to know.

“Well, you are here, aren’t you?” Theodore said.

“We came to find knowledge to restore balance,” Clara said.

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen. You know, I once was like you… human.”

“And what are you now?” Dave said.

The spectral Theodore shifted his gaze towards Dave. “Oh, look at you. You are my son, aren’t you?”

Dave nodded, lips pressed firmly shut.

“That… is unexpected. That witch. Huh…”

Why was he surprised?

Theodore continued, “You know, it doesn’t matter. I’m somewhere else now. But I’d like to return. And in order to accomplish that, I need you, Grey.”

“I’m not helping you,” I said.

“Oh, but you are! You already absorbed your friend at the door. And soon you’ll do the same to everyone else close to you. It won’t be long. Eat well. I need you strong.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You will eat the essence of everyone powerful around you, and you will become magnificent.”

“I will not hurt anyone!”

“Yes. Yes, you will. And then, just then, you might be a powerful enough vessel for me to return to the waking realm.”

“You can’t!” Clara exclaimed in shock.

“Oh, little druid. I don’t have to do anything. It’s going to happen.”

The revelation struck us like a physical blow. The journey, the trials we had faced, the loss of Mark—it had all been orchestrated to bring us to this moment, to prepare me for a fate I had never imagined, nor desired.

Theodore’s gaze then softened, a semblance of remorse flickering across his features. He spoke of Beatrice, a guardian of the old ways, who had sought to prevent the prophecy from coming to fruition. She had separated those destined to play a role in these events, hoping to keep them safe from the machinations of those who, like Theodore, sought to use them for their own ends.

“I should never have trusted Beatrice. She was always kinder than me. Pathetic. That she would keep a son from me though, that was clever. I suppose you only just recently met?”

I wasn’t going to give him any answers, nor were Dave or Clara. We just stared at his image. But then he focused on Dave, looking curious.

“Wait, is that…?” he said but interrupted himself. Dave’s necklace began to glow in green and yellow colors. “The one at the door. He was my son, too? How…”

That seemed to startle him. If I had to take a guess, I would say it looked like worry.

“You’re worried now,” Clara said, matter-of-factly.

“A being of my power has no worry. I only have patience,” Theodore responded. I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth, but I couldn’t smell visions.

is worried. is very worried.

Well, how do you know, buddy?

am clever. you’re not.

“Yet here we are,” Theodore said, a note of inevitability in his voice. “The threads of destiny are not so easily unraveled.”

The weight of his words settled over us, a burden of knowledge and responsibility that we could not have anticipated. Dave clenched his fists, and said, “We will not be pawns in your game.” His voice was steady. “We will find a way to bring Mark back, to restore balance without succumbing to your desires.”

Theodore’s image flickered, a sign that his time between the realms was drawing to a close. “The choice is yours,” he said, his voice fading. “But know this—the heart of Labirinthoset holds more than just the answers you seek. It holds the key to the future of all realms.”

And with that, Theodore’s presence dissolved, leaving us alone once again in the labyrinth’s oppressive silence. The path ahead seemed more daunting than ever and the journey had taken on a new meaning. It was no longer just a quest for answers or a mission to undo the wrongs of the past. It was a fight for our future, for the freedom to choose our own destinies, free from the manipulations of those who would see us as mere tools for their ambitions.

“So. Let me summarize. He didn’t know of his sons, and the fact that you… absorbed a son of his startled him. But why?” Clara said.

“You’re asking me that? I’m the clueless one, remember?” I said.

“He said you would eat my essence,” Dave said.

“And mine, I guess,” Clara said.

“I’m not going to eat any of you,” I said.

We were all taken aback when Theodore’s voice—now deeper and louder—rang through the ancient halls and said, “Let me speed things along and demonstrate what fate has in store for you.”

The air around us tensed, charged with an unseen energy that crackled with malice. Before we could react, a mechanism hidden within the walls of the labyrinth activated, unleashing an ancient trap. A stream of searing fire shot towards Clara, its intensity a clear death sentence.

In a split second, Dave lunged forward, throwing himself in front of Clara. The fire engulfed him, a sight so horrifying and surreal that time itself seemed to stop. His scream, a sound of pure agony, echoed off the stone walls, a chilling testament to the sacrifice he was making.

The fire dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. Dave collapsed, his body scorched and barely recognizable. Clara and I rushed to his side, desperation fueling our movements. Clara’s hands hovered over him, her druidic knowledge searching for a way to heal, but the damage was beyond what her magic could mend.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

“DAVE,” I screamed, “NO!”

Dave’s breaths were shallow, each one a struggle that etched lines of pain across his face. His eyes met mine, a silent plea for help, for action.

“Clara… I…” I said.

“What? WHAT? He’s my brother. He’s the only thing I have. What?” she said.

Dave’s life was slipping away. At that moment, I knew there was only one thing I could do, one chance to save him from the brink of death.

He had to be turned.

The process, dangerous and uncertain, was our only hope. It was forbidden, but I didn’t care. I placed my hands on his charred skin, calling upon the primal energies that coursed through my veins. The transformation required a bond, a willingness to share the essence of what I was, and Dave’s faint nod granted me that permission.

So I shifted, swiftly. My bones cracked and rearranged, and it left the weirdest of echoes in these halls. I was both man and wolf. Fierce and powerful.

ours. keep him. save him.

I bit down on his neck. Marking him. He was mine. He had to live. The taste was intoxicating—not like prey, this was something different. He tasted like my mate. And he had given me permission to do this.

Dave.

Live! For me.

Nothing was happening.

Nothing was happening.

Nothing was happening.

I howled to the moon. We had ventured so deep below the earth that I wasn’t sure it could hear me.

Again, nothing was happening!

And when I thought all was lost, Dave finally took a heavy breath. A pained one, but a breath nonetheless.

Dave was breathing.

Copyright © 2023–2024 drown. All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you so much for reading. This is my first story. Be kind but honest.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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6 hours ago, Zuri said:
Quote

From this disturbance emerged a figure, ethereal and shimmering, yet unmistakably human in form. He introduced himself as Theodore, a name that resonated with a deep, almost forgotten magic.

I know, show, don't tell and all, but dropping the name of the most mysterious character as of now just like that … feels a little … anticlimactic to be honest 😬

Hm. Will take a note for a possible rewrite in 2029. 🙂

But seriously, this feedback is very important. Thank you.

6 hours ago, Zuri said:

Oh, what you put us through! 😨 And we thought, Mark's disappearance was the most shocking event to date! But what am I complaining? I mean, I do like this more than romance 😅

🫣

6 hours ago, Zuri said:

Interesting to see that, despite being surprised by both having children at all and it being two sons as well as Beatrice's intervention, Theodore seems to be holding the upper hand—the high ground, so to speak.

I don't like villains that are all-knowing and all-powerful.

6 hours ago, Zuri said:
Quote

The weight of his words settled over us, a burden of knowledge and responsibility that we could not have anticipated. Dave clenched his fists, and said, “We will not be pawns in your game.”

knowing drown, there might be more to this and maybe, even Beatrice's motives might not be entirely pure. What do we really know for sure at this point?

Everybody is flawed. It just takes time to see it.

6 hours ago, Zuri said:

Too bad, I could have philosophized about the odds of turning Dave—not gonna happen now 🤷‍♂️

Dammit! I should keep my mouth shut.

Then again, you think turning someone into a werewolf is a 5-minute thing with no repercussions? 🫣

6 hours ago, Zuri said:
10 hours ago, drown said:

Is he a dead guy, though?

Mark would be, too, right?

But when Theodore can return, that also means, so could Mark, couldn't he? 🤔

It's time for the remaining adventuring party to figure out where Theodore is and if it's the same place that Mark went to. Or Beatrice for that matter.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting! 🧡

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13 minutes ago, Tanchio said:

Another well written chapter! It certainly seems like the BBEG knows exactly how to re-train the weave of fate to his design.

"You have the essence of my son. Wait, I have two sons? No matter, here's a trap! Aha! Now you share the essence of both of my sons. My plans are flawless!"

Guess the group has to figure out who the BBEG really is, and if he truly holds the reins. And where is he really?

Thanks a lot for your comment 🙂💜 It hit at the right moment, I'm having some self-doubts over here. 😄

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