RAVEN'S GAMBIT | Episode 67: The Pillars of Ascension
The silence in the corridor was almost respectful, as if even the walls mourned the latest loss. Bran was gone, and though they'd claimed vengeance on the juggernaut, the weight of grief still dragged at their steps.
Tessa's keen eyes darted along the stonework. She paused beside a slight crack, pressing gently until a soft click echoed. A narrow opening yawned before them, leading into a winding cavern that smelled of ancient dust and secrets.
“Found something,” she whispered.
The passage twisted and squeezed around them like the gullet of some great stone beast. Eventually, it deposited them into another corridor—this one smooth and meticulously carved. At its end stood a door unlike any before: forged of gleaming alloy with massive reinforced hinges, polished to a mirror sheen that reflected their battered forms.
Three narrow slots, vertical and cold to the touch, were set waist-high.
“Huh,” Lira mused. “Looks like it wants a donation.”
Tessa turned. “Swords. It wants swords.”
From the party's packs, three short swords were drawn—each worn but serviceable. Tessa slipped hers in first. Nothing. Then Lira. Still nothing. All eyes turned to Theron, who held the last sword… and Blackrazor.
“At the same time, perhaps?” he said.
Together, the three blades slid in.
Click.
The metallic door groaned and swung inward of its own accord. Light flooded out. Awe and wariness danced on every face.
Beyond, a chamber of immense size stretched before them. The ceiling rose thirty feet overhead, tiled in dark stone. Dozens of pastel-colored columns supported the vault, each one humming softly with latent energy.
Across the gulf of darkness glittered something orange and flickering.
Sir Cedric’s eyes narrowed. “I sense a great evil here.”
With a thunderous slam, the door behind them sealed.
“Of course it does,” Elowyn muttered. “No backsies.”
The moment was broken by a flash of violet light. Theron, curious and reckless, reached out to one of the pillars.
“T—Don’t touch that!” Tessa snapped too late.
Blackrazor pulsed hungrily in his hand. Theron’s eyes rolled back, and he lifted from the ground, arms flailing.
“THERON!” Lira cried, hurling a rope.
Elric tossed another. Elowyn chanted a spell—but Blackrazor thwarted them all. Theron slipped each line. His expression contorted into one of horror and betrayal as the draft dragged him toward a yawning stone maw carved like a devil's face.
The mouth accepted him with chilling silence.
“No…” Lira whispered. “Not again…”
But there was no time to weep. Another door shimmered nearby, faintly glowing blue with a brass ring at its center.
“I don’t want to touch anything after that,” Tessa muttered.
Sir Cedric stepped forward. “I shall bear the risk.”
With a firm hand, he opened the door.
Within lay a room of devastation and death. Broken chests, shattered urns, and looted coffers littered the floor. In the center, a stone table held a sarcophagus—its lid slightly ajar.
“Is that…” Thalia began.
“A mummy,” Cedric confirmed.
As they approached, a glint of amethyst caught Tessa’s eye.
“Oh no…” Elowyn warned. “That’s not just treasure.”
“Looks embedded,” Elric said, peering closer.
“I got this,” Tessa said, sliding a dagger between the wrappings to free the gem.
The moment it dislodged, the gem shattered in a flash of crimson light. Wind howled unnaturally from nowhere. The mummy twitched. Then screamed.
The cloth binding it unraveled with supernatural speed, revealing dried, cracked skin now pulsing with new life. A gleaming ring sat on its middle finger.
“Elowyn, back!” Cedric shouted.
The mummy raised a hand and hissed a curse.
“Slay Living!” it roared.
The black beam shot toward Cedric—but his armor of faith and will blazed with divine power, deflecting the attack.
“My turn,” he snarled.
He struck with a searing slash of radiant energy, driving the creature back. Elowyn summoned a blast of water to pin it. Tessa darted in low and sliced the tendons of one knee. Lira followed with a crossbow bolt between its ribs.
“Wave hates mummies,” Elowyn called, sending her trident sailing in a gleam of blue-white fury.
The creature screamed as holy energy seared its wrappings and crumbling form.
“Plague of Insects!” it roared.
A swarm poured forth—but Thalia conjured a gust of wind to scatter them.
Sir Cedric’s final blow, his blade glowing with celestial fire, cleaved the mummy’s form in two. It collapsed in ash and wrappings.
The gem? Gone.
The ring? Claimed by Cedric.
“We live another hour,” Thalia breathed.
“But we’ve lost another friend,” Tessa whispered, looking back toward the door where Theron vanished. “That sword… that damned sword cost him his soul.”