Book 2: Chapter 49: The Belly of the Beast

Book 2: Chapter 49: The Belly of the Beast

The air was tumultuous, yearning for freedom from the domain of her parents, eager to explore beyond the reach of the expansive primordial oceans and the tranquil, silent night. Distressed by this, Water and Darkness endeavored to craft both a haven and guardian for their wayward daughter, aiming to keep her from the emptiness that lay in the great beyond. This they called the Earth.

- The Birth of the Gesthe, by an unknown author.

Bathed by the light of my golden Aura, a dance of shadow and light presented a room filled with large earthenware pots. Interesting, I mused. After a closer inspection of one of the pots, I attempted to pry its lid off, but found it stubbornly sealed. Applying more force might risk damaging this ancient artifact. I briefly considered shattering the pot to check for any hidden treasures, but my inner historian instantly vetoed that sacrilegious thought. I chose another pot at random, and this time I succeeded in opening it. Curiously, I took a cautious look inside.The initial posting of this chapter occurred via Ñøv€l-B!n.

Inside, the pot harbored dark brown crystals closely resembling black sugar. This was a small stroke of fortune, for food would be no small boon here, but I had to be careful. I had to check for sure.

Corpse Honey

Durability 64/65

An Identify spell revealed a somewhat macabre name for the contents of the pot. Yet, despite this ominous label, I was aware that honey could endure for thousands of years, remaining perfectly edible. Moreover, if it happened to be tainted or had merely spoiled, my robust Constitution and the Purify spell in my arsenal would allow me to easily negate any repercussions. It was amusing to think that I, who once had such a delicate stomach, was now ready to consume some ancient honey discovered underground without a second thought.

Sampling a small portion, I discovered that it certainly lived up to the 'honey' part of its name, although the 'corpse' element still had me apprehensive. It was likely named after the flower that the honey-making bees had harvested, or something along those lines, I justified to myself. Sampling another bite, I had to spit out an inedible fragment, a small chip of white. I would have to be careful not to choke when eating the honey.

I then spent the subsequent twenty minutes inspecting the rest of the room, which only revealed yet more earthenware pots. Having not experienced any adverse effects from my recent risky indulgence, I concluded that it was safe for consumption.

A pot itself would be too heavy to lug around with me, so I made do by wrapping some of the crystallized honey in a few leaves, and stuffing it into my pouch. I inspected the other pots, the ones I could open at least, finding them all uniformly filled with Corpse Honey.

Finding no more in the room, I retreated to the corridor to uncover more of this enigmatic place. Equipped with light, sustenance, and a reserve of Mana, and buoyed by my recent victory, I felt that I was in a reasonable state. A swift pull from my water flask brought me some relief, the precious item thankfully not lost in my recent ordeals. Still, the need for more water hung over me, an issue not yet urgent but becoming increasingly critical.

I drank deeply of the stale musty air, the heady substance of life filling my lungs. Of the thing that had struck me, there was no sign. Struggling to my feet, a hysterical sob came over me. I had faced yet another close call with my fragile mortality.

Incongruously, tears of embarrassment, of all things, tracked down my face. I felt only glad that here, alone in this bleak place, there had been no one to witness my misfortune. This was the price for letting my guard down, and in turn, the vicissitudes of fate had not been kind.

There were two new notifications that I had completely failed to register. One of which was a gain to Constitution, followed by another that grated and set a fire to my belly, dispelling my self-pity.

You have Trap Detection (lvl.1)

Heedless and uncaring of other things that may lay in wait in the darkness, I screamed in frustration with the full force of newly-healed lungs. I had thrown caution to the wind. Let them come. Let all of them come.

Yet, none were drawn to my challenge. Not beast nor revenant, and the silence swallowed up my pathetic battle cry. With my face growing hot at my momentary lapse of control, I decided it best to put some distance between here and whatever might be coming for me.

I could not discern what my new Trap skill was doing exactly. Was it a passive skill, or something I had to directly invoke? At level one, it was not something I could rely on to shield me. So, I proceeded with caution, worry hounding each of my steps. Luck must have been with me, for I encountered no new traps.

Finally, after an eternity of slow plodding progress, I arrived at what I could only assume to be a large hall. Light did not diffuse naturally in this place. The golden light of my Holy Aura provided only a small sphere of illumination, stopping at a certain point and leaving the rest of the room submerged in a murky gray. Despite these conditions, I could still see that this place was lined with finely-crafted and highly-detailed statues on raised plinths. Carved from fine marble, they were of a monstrous aspect. Amalgamations of man and exotic beast, meticulously crafted with lifelike precision. Trapped, frozen forever in their own existence and horrific in their exquisite art.

In stark contrast to the statues, at the end of the hall was a large crude altar. A monolith to the profane. I moved closer to the simple stone construction as if drawn by some other force. A presence that was alien, yet tantalizingly familiar, filled this foreboding place. Then all there was, all that existed, was a shouted command, demanding obedience, that reverberated through my soul.

“KNEEL!” cried a female voice filled with divine authority.

My knees almost buckled at the force of the command. The dark voices rallied behind me, propping up my flagging will with their own.

“KNEEL! Bow down before the presence of Iasis, Mother of Monsters, Mistress of the Twisted Helix” the voice intoned again, though this time I could feel its influence over me weaken. Almost imperceptibly weaken, but still, weaken nonetheless.

“No...” I cried hoarsely, the long-smoldering coals of rebellion turning into a hot flame. I was in the presence of a godling, and I would not accept their authority over me.