The Tears of Kas̆dael

Their progress down the hall remained slow; aside from the evidence of the battle, they could find no indication of where the Moon-kissed mage had gone, so they were forced to check each of the burial chambers they passed, a task that had them all bit on edge. About half of the sarcophagi remained undisturbed, their inhabitant peacefully sleeping in the odd amber liquid, while the others had risen. There was no pattern that Jasper could detect, nothing about the bodies or the chambers that provided any clues as to why some had risen and not others, and as they left more and more chambers to fall into the darkness behind them, Jasper felt a rising touch of paranoia. What if the rest decided they’re also tired of sleeping?

The uncanny nature of the architecture only added to the group’s sense of unease. The bright lights of the corridor, the oddly shaped and immaculately smooth walls and floors, and the rows of identical, unornamented burial chambers all seemed a bit odd. Where was the individuality? The creativity? If it were not for the fact that everything was carved from bedrock, Jasper could have easily convinced himself that he was walking through the bowels of a futuristic starship rather than long-forgotten ruins.

With their pace slowed by the need to investigate every chamber, it took them an hour before they made it down the three hundred feet the hall stretched. As it turned out, Ihra had been right - when it reached the location of the broken platform, the corridor made a sharp left-hand turn, and after a short distance reconnected with the chasm outside, where a familiar broken platform and the corpse of a dorēsah awaited them.

Unfortunately, that was also where the mage’s trail went cold. There were no other passageways branching off for them to explore, and they had already searched every burial chamber they came across - save for a pair of unusual locked doors. Only two options for further progress remained - returning to the broken platform and searching for another one the mage could have conceivably reached, or finding a way to open the barred chamber.

The door seemed the most likely place to check, so Jasper headed there first, leaving Ihra and her much better vision to scan the darkness of the chasm for other platforms. The barred chamber was the first sign of innovation - or at least of a unique design - he’d seen in the crypt thus far.

The usual trapezoidal shape of the hall had a circular hole incised ten feet into the pit. A giant circular door, carved from the same rock as the rest of the passage, barred the way. The door was nearly flush with the walls and ceiling, perhaps less than an eight of an inch, and there were no obvious mechanisms to open it. But the shape of the door was not its only oddity. Unlike the rest of the crypt, it was decorated by a series of pictures and a thin band of text that stretched along its entire circumference.

He tried the obvious first, of course. Bracing his feet against the ground, Jasper put his shoulder against the door and pushed with all his strength, but it didn’t even shudder. Pulling was simply out of the question; there were no handles on the door and the gap between the door and the rest of the corridor was nowhere near wide enough to insert his fingers and try to pry it open.

That left the symbols and inscription on the door as his only clue. Unfortunately, as Jasper bent down to read the small figures, he realized the script, if that’s what it was, was wholly unlike the alphabet the Djinn used. “Any of you know how to read, uh, Dorēsah, I’m guessing?”

“Dorēsah?” Gūla, who had gone with Ihra to check the broken platform for any sign of her friend, jogged over to look at the door. “As far as I know, the dorēsah never developed a writing system. They used a special type of magic to encrypt crystals with information, so they never had need. Before I awoke my firebird class, I was originally planning to be a maiden for S̆ams̆a. I spent several months in Ekalnūr - S̆ams̆a’s temple,” she explained, seeing Jasper’s blank expression, “working in the archives. They had an entire storeroom filled with the things.”

“Really? I thought the knowledge of dorēsah had practically fallen into myth. Is the temple just suppressing their records?”

“Why would you think that?” She asked in surprise. “If anything, the temple of S̆ams̆a has gone to a great deal of effort to preserve a bunch of useless relics. Unfortunately, we don’t know how to activate them,” she admitted. “The priests have saved the crystals just in case any ever figures it out, but after a few thousand years, it seems pretty unlikely that’s going to happen.”

“If they’re that old, there might not be anything to decipher,” Jasper mused, thinking of how quickly the tapes and cds of his childhood had started to degrade. “So if this writing isn’t dorēsah, what is it?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t dorēsah,” Gūla pointed out. “As far as I know, they didn’t have a writing system, but, then again, as far as I knew they built all their settlements on the tops of mountains. Everything about this place makes me question what I know.”

“Maybe this place was founded by some sort of exiles?” Tsia asked, joining the conversation.

Gūla nodded in agreement, “The thought had occurred to me as well. Every society has a weirdo cult of its own, don’t they?”

But Jasper had a different theory. “What if this was built towards the end of the war? They’re trying to hide from the Djinn, so they went underground - literally. They’ve been exposed to a writing system, so they developed one of their own.”

“But it’s just a bunch of tombs,” Gūla objected. “This place seems more likely to have a religious significance than be a settlement.”

“We’ve barely scratched the surface of this place,” he pointed out. “There could be an entire settlement down there in the darkness but, frankly, I’m not convinced these are tombs at all.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We’ve found nothing but bodies in coffins. If that’s not a tomb, what is it?”

“We’ve found bodies in an unmarked container filled with an unknown substance,” Jasper pointed out exactly. “But that doesn’t mean they’re coffins. What if they weren’t dead in the first place? What if the dorēsah, trying to escape the curse that was transforming them into the beasts they became, came up with a way to put themselves in some sort of, I don’t know, stasis?”

“You’re saying they aren’t dead?” Gūla asked skeptically.

“It would explain how Sels̆arrat had a little run-in with our restless dead despite there being no signs of necromancy. They were just in stasis and she woke them up.”

“What about all the ones who remain in their coffin?”

He shrugged. “Maybe it’s been so long the stasis failed, or maybe whatever it is that’s needed to wake them up just didn’t get triggered - but it makes sense.”

Ihra chose that moment to rejoin them. “Did you figure out how to get that door open yet?”

“Uh-“ Jasper glanced at the circular obstacle still barring their way. “I may have gotten a little distracted,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was trying to convince Gūla that this place may not be a crypt.”

“And the door?” she repeated.

“Well,” Jasper rubbed his hand over his chin, feeling the rough stubble chew at his flesh like sandpaper, as he examined the door. “I'd bet these symbols are somehow used to unlock the door.” He ran his fingers over the rough edges of one of the symbols and recoiled as a small electric shock jolted his entire arm. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s right. This thing’s like a keypad, but there are way too many ‘numbers’ to guess the code.”

He sighed exasperatedly, examining the text again. “If only we could read this. I don’t know if it’s a cipher, a name plaque, or a goddamned ad, but without some sort of clue, I don’t see how we’re going to get through this door.”

Jasper glanced back to Gūla. “Any chance your friend could have even gotten through this, or are we barking up the wrong trail?”

“Maybe,” she replied hesitantly. “Sels̆arrat was always more of a scholar than I was, especially after I got pulled into the firebirds. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“And were there other platforms she could have reached?” he questioned Ihra.

“I don’t know Gūla’s friend well enough to judge her capabilities,” she responded with a shrug. “There’s another platform about 75 feet down and 20 or so to the right. Could she make that leap?”

The Djinn shook her head. “Sels̆arrat is the sort of mage who puts almost her points in willpower and inspiration - she wouldn’t have the health to survive that fall. It’s possible, though, that she could have used another rope, but any evidence of that was destroyed along with the platform.”

“Then let’s check it out,” Jasper cut in. “We’re not getting through this door any time soon, so unless we’re giving up on her, it’s all we can do. Besides, who knows? Maybe that platform will connect back to this door from the other side.”

Unable to come up with any better plan, Gūla reluctantly agreed, although she continued to cast worried glances at the door. “I just know she got through there somehow…” she muttered to herself.

Summoning his essence, Jasper cast Spectral Wings on Tsia and Gūla again. They departed immediately, hugging the side of the cliff as they darted to the platform far below. Landing safely on the white semicircle, the two waved up at them and headed for the relative safety of the adjoining hall.

That left Jasper and Ihra with ten minutes to kill, though, this time, there was no awkward conversation, as both were simply too tired and on edge from the ominous surroundings to risk it. Instead, as soon as Jasper could feel the spell dissolving, he cast it again.

His heart raced as he flew into the chasm again, his mind conjuring the image of a mighty dorēsah lurking just beyond the edges of his vision like a great white shark hunting in the dark waters of the Pacific. But despite his worst fears, nothing came for them, and they landed on the platform without issue, though neither tarried long in the open ravine.

Tsia and Gūla were waiting for them just inside the entrance, and the four set off. As Jasper had expected, the hallway was in every respect identical to the others in the complex, and it was not long before they reached the first chamber.

The thin stone slab that served as a door had glided open smoothly in the other chambers, but this one was more obstinate. The door jiggled as Jasper pressed it on, cracking open only a smidge before it caught on something unseen. He pressed harder, but the door refused to budge, and he turned to the others for help. “You think you can get this open, Ihra? I’m guessing you have a higher strength stat than me.”

“Unless you’ve been investing your stats like an idiot, I should,” she said, stepping forward with a smile. Placing her shoulder against the door, she dug her feet into the ground. It moved another inch before grinding to a halt.

With a huff, she straightened back up and wiggled her shoulder. “Oof, that’s really jammed. But I think I can get it with one more try.” Closing her eyes, she activated a skill - The Still Pond - and rammed her body against the door. The extra strength was enough to overcome the obstacle on the other side and the door swung open as a half dozen pieces of furniture crashed to the floor with a resounding boom. For a moment, they all froze in silence, staring at a chamber identical to the ones above save for the fact that it had not been pillaged.

And then, a dull thud echoed from the coffin.