Monster Mine
The slab moved slightly under his weight, but Dal Burls found he couldn’t push it off its steady stone platform no matter how hard he struck.
Finding the entrance to the Cave of Finite Mysteries had been easier he expected, even with trials along the way. Killing monsters and solving riddles were both things he was good at, especially when they meant life or death. Reaching the stone prison of Rekel’kalem had also been almost without challenge, and Dal began to doubt that he had found the true marker – for three days he examined it, pouring over the worn inscriptions and comparing them to the notebook he carried.
It was only after finding the fifth passage of Havan, tucked away at the bottom of the slab and nearly unreadable that Dal became convinced he’d found what others had missed. It was also then that he noticed the bleached bones cast into a shallow pit behind the stone; reading it had so consumed him that he was oblivious to anything else. Clearly, others had come before him and either failed to free Rekel or been unable to control it. Dal was determined not to make the same mistakes.
“Move, dammit!” He swore into the dusty cave, slamming into the stone again. He could hear it twist at the base, turning on its axis but it gave no ground. Though the passages had been clear about overcoming the trials and the path he must walk to the Cave, they had scant information on how to release the creature, let alone control it. Still, Dal would not give up.
Fury began to overwhelm him as he strained, every muscle standing out and every inch of his body committed to the effort. Anger at the prospect of failure rose, at having to return to kith and kin on the outskirts of Teldannan. His father had been clear: if Dal was not successful in his endeavor, he could return to the farm but at the level of an indentured servant. All of his relatives were unimpressed with his chosen vocation – to defy the family and leave the farm was unheard of, and punishment was the only course if he was to fail.
Thoughts of his father and brothers standing over him, mouths open in laughter and fists closed to strike only stoked his fire and his anger became almost animate, a thing unto itself that swept out of his body and into the stone at his hands. More rage surged and was eaten by the pitted stone, consumed by whatever lay inside and Dal felt it start to melt beneath its grip, deform as power slammed into it.
“I AM RELEASED!” The scream rebounded off the shallow cave walls, doubling back on itself to fill Dal’s ears and drive him to the ground. His grip on the stone remained rock-steady, however, even as his legs buckled; the passages were clear that failure to complete the rite once begun would lead to certain and gruesome death.
As moments slipped by the form trapped in stone became clearer, a hulking thing that was too tall to be human and so thin it was grotesque. Rock melted like fresh butter as Rekel’kalem shuddered its prison free and as the last of it dripped away. Dal stepped back, hands going to his sides in knotted fists. No writings contained any details on how to deal with the beast once it had been released, but instead detailed only the destructive power it possessed. In right hands, Rekel could be used to rule nations – even armies trembled at its might.
“Worm!” A voice that seemed made of tumbling stone assaulted Dal’s ears. “You have released me, and for that I am grateful. I will grant you a swift death in thanks – state your name that I may add it to my memory in honor.” Rekel stepped forward, its movements leaden but certain, stride purposeful.
“Stop!” Dal bellowed, anger hot and red. He had freed the beast – respect was his due at the very least. “I am your master, Rekel’kalem!” Stories he had read often spoke of names’ power, of their ability to control creatures from beyond, but Rekel simply laughed.
“Little fool,” it grated, “I am not some fairy creation or sprite you can compel. My will is my own, and soon you will form a part of it.”
A step back and Dal found his back against a wall; death was coming despite his success and childhood memories surfaced, watery images of older brothers taking out their frustration with an impatient father on Dal’s small form. Calmness swept over him, a mechanism he’d perfected to endure the almost daily beatings. Though bruises remained, their pain was dulled.
Rekel came to an abrupt halt, face suddenly slack. “Master,” it breathed.
“What?” Dal felt his peace shatter, and fire lit again in the creature’s eyes, a hunger for death and destruction unmatched. “Master?”
“I misspoke,” the beast hissed. “You are nothing like the Master – a fleeting image, nothing more.”
Empowered destruction surged forward and calmness fell again, Dal’s unconscious response to threat. Rekel’s surging form stopped only inches from its purpose, only a heartbeat from carrying out its mission.
“Master.” Awe sparked in the creature’s eyes.
“I am,” Dal said, holding his calm firmly in place. “I am your master, and the one who would control you. Do you yield?” A tremor of fear ran up his spine, a concern that he could not fully control the beast and it took a half-step closer. With an effort, he slipped back into calm, back into a place of peace. Rekel bowed its head in submission.
“Come, my creature,” he went on, stepping around the beast and motioning for it to follow. Peace was coming more easily and Dal began to dimly sense Rekel, a pulsing presence at the edge of consciousness. “We have many things to do – tell me, have you ever been to a farm?” He smiled; death was not in order, not yet, but fear suited his purpose.
- D
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