Chapter Five: Master

Keeper of the Shade

“Master Rez!” Derian shouted, looking at the figure in the freshly carved entrance. He was silhouetted by a bright lantern behind him. Rock dust floated in the cave, sent up by the falling rock.

Yet even in hazy profile the master was apparent. He stood well over normal height, and had a beard that ran down and was kept pinned by a belt. His head was shaven smooth, and his hands hung low, by his knees. He wore a necklace like Derian’s, but his beads were glass, ringed in gold, and twice as large.

“Derian, is that you?” the master monk laughed. “I wondered who was stirring things up. I should have known.”

Derian spat, his mouth and nostrils clogged from the bead.

“This town is much worse than we thought, master,” Derian said. “There’s level two and three spirits. Talk of a god coming.”

“I know, dear boy.”

“Is that why you came? To assist? How did you know?”

“I have ways of knowing, Derian. Come now. This place is empty and holds no answers any longer.”

“There was a she demon here,” Derian said, “a strong one too. I think she may have broken a rib.” He walked closer. He was surprised to see Master Rez dressed in a black robe. Yet he was reassured when he noticed that it did not have the chains that he had seen on the others. Perhaps it is just the lighting, Derian thought.

“What are you wearing, Derian?” Rez asked. Derian looked down at his suit of armor.

“The she demon was tied to it. I cleansed the plates with new life and it seemed to have done the trick.”

“To dawn unknown armor is dangerous, my student. Especially old armor in caverns with no door.”

“I am aware,” Derian nodded, “but there was no other choice. I used all my salt just trying to keep her at bay.”

“It seems you did a fine job. Forgive your old master for not treating you as a full order of the member. Old habits die hard, heh.”

Derian smiled at the older man and felt glad when he saw the man’s cheeks rise from a laugh. The large land on his shoulder put his heart at ease, and he followed willingly as the master steered him out onto the large flight of steps. Out on the next stair, a man whose back curled into a c stood holding the lantern.

“You entered the Forlorn Steps without a light?” Rez asked.

“I had a guide,” Derian said, “but we got separated at some point.”

“A guide? How strange. I thought the village was empty.”

“She had just come back from a delivery of some sort. Our meeting was chance. When I first saw her, I nearly wet my pants, to be honest.”

“You’ve used four beads. Oh, my student. Do you not realize the cost of each Curiox? I trust you have at least found the source of the haunt?”

“No, master, I did not. It seems to be kept deeper than anything I’ve seen before. I haven’t been able to source the anchor that binds these souls. I haven’t been able to make heads or tails of where the peasants have gone. But that’s why you are here, is it not? I thought you were halfway across the empire. You must have felt my calling before I made it.”

“Perhaps.”

“What is it I should do?”

“Take off the armor and ascend the stair, young monk. Cassius and I will continue downward, to locate the source of this town’s devastation.”

“Who is this Cassius? Is he from the order?”

The C-shaped man snickered.

“Cassius is a friend who knows this path well.”

“Did you see a woman ascending when you came down this way?”

“We did not. The stairs were empty and dry.”

Derian looked up the flight of stairs.

“The armor, boy.”

Derian went to remove the helmet. It was odd. It was loose enough that it did not squeeze his head, but too tight to unbuckle. It was like a knot that was wetted with water, allowing the fibers to sinch tighter than they could dry. He tried a gauntlet, but it wouldn’t slip from his arm.

“It isn’t coming off,” Derian said.

Rez shook his head.

“You have bunged this one up, Derian. I do not know the chants to remove ancient armor.”

“Gods!” Derian clenched his teeth as he tried to remove the gauntlet. The metal bit his skin as he pulled.

“It would release if he died, I am sure,” Cassius hissed.

“Stand down, Cassius,” Rez said, “this is my dear student.”

“But sir, without the armor-”

“Quiet, Cassius, before I break that empty skull!”

“Master?” Derian whispered. He had never heard Rez speak with such flippancy. He had never seen him get mad.

“Sorry. I got ahead of myself. You’re right about this town. The haunt’s anchor lies in a deep and dark setting. It puts strain on my old bones.”

“Then do you not need my assistance? Remember in Olive Peach, when we cleared the estate of the nasty level two?”

“You were a great help then, Derian. But I cannot assure your safety here as I did there. Level twos, I am afraid, are not my greatest worry.”

“Not…” Derian licked his lips. The cold wind wicked away his spit before he spoke. “Not a level one.”

“It seems so,” Rez nodded. Cassius laughed. “You best be going,” Rez said. He nodded towards the stairs. “Do not make me regret sending you here, Derian. Go to the surface and find out what you can about this haunting. See if you can’t find that girl again. She may just hold the answer to our problems.”

“Yes Master,” Derian nodded. He turned, gripped his cassock beneath his chest plate, and began to climb. When he was out of the lantern’s light, he put his back to the wall of the steps. He watched his master’s eyes scan the staircase. Cassius mumbled something and Rez wacked him on the back of the head.

Something was wrong. The master was acting like a novice, whacking helpers and tripping over his tongue. Derian tried to work his way through his master’s thinking, tried to justify his actions.

But he couldn’t put a finger on two things. How the man got himself up to New Delm in less than two days. And why he was surprised to find Derian in the cave.

The lantern began to move. Its light grew faint, then was no brighter than a firefly.

Derian stepped out from the wall, and followed down the steps. He was surprised to find that the armor made no sound, as if it was made from linen and not iron.