A Soldier's Life

Chapter 131: The Library

The heavy, wet snow crunched under our feet as the discordant rhythm of our steps headed toward the western gate of Caelora. Adrian and Konstantin were out front and cut down another specter while Castile took its death essence. The dark walls of the city soon shadowed over us, blocking some of the snowfall.

Large stones were scattered at the foot of the wall, having fallen with time. Being close to the city felt wrong, and the aged stone was covered in a black mold. The gate was glossy, ominous black wood as we reached it, with one of the large doors slightly ajar, giving a narrow entrance to the city.

The company huddled by the wall as Konstantin checked the narrow opening in the gate. I was standing in front of Scholar Favian, who was shivering and did not appear to be doing well. Maveith was standing over the older man, trying to shield him from the wet, heavy snow. The more snow melted on my neck and soaked my clothes underneath, the more I felt the bite of the cold. Especially now that we had stopped moving.

A specter of an elven woman in guard armor passed through the stone wall, and surprised Pavel further back. Pavel screamed in pain as the arm of the specter passed through his torso. The specter flared, its body becoming more coherent as it took something from Pavel’s pained wailing. I was the first to get my runic blade on the specter. After four rapid strikes, the creature faded into the ground.

Castile used the urn to destroy the creature permanently while Linus checked on Pavel. I kneeled opposite Linus, concerned for Pavel. Pavel’s face was pale, and he was struggling to breathe. “He will recover as long as more specters do not strike him,” Linus told me. He addressed Pavel, “Come on, Pavel, one strike from a specter cannot take down a legionnaire.”

Pavel struggled to sit up, his breathing was labored, “My lungs feel like cold spikes are stabbing them.” He rasped, “Can I have a healing potion?”

Castile was standing over us, concern on her face, “It won’t do any good. It attacked your life essence, not your physical body. You will recover in a day; just do not get struck again before then. If the specters drain your life essence, you will become one of them.”

The wind suddenly seemed to shift, and our minor protection from the wall was gone. Snow was blowing directly into us and getting heavier. Konstantin returned from the opening to report. He sounded grave, “Dozens of specters are walking the street, Castile. If everyone had a runic weapon, we might stand a chance.”

Adrian shook his head, “It is a death sentence if we stay out here. We will freeze and be exposed to whatever creature the summoner sends at us. I prefer to fight inside the city. We can shelter in one of the buildings and have those with weapons shield the others.”

Firth dissented, “Easy for you to say. You have a runic weapon.” Tension among the men was getting thick. It was the first time the company did not feel cohesive. For some of the men, they were fighting an enemy they could not injure.

Konstantine offered a solution, “Give everyone one of the runic arrows. Those without a runic sword can hold off the specters long enough with the runic arrowhead for another with a sword to finish it.”

Silence hung, and the flakes fell. “Do it,” Castile finally said.

Things were so dire I pulled out one of my aces, “I have this, Firth.” I handed him the elven runic dagger I secretly brought from my storage. He seemed like the best person in the company to wield it, someone prone to stab others in the back. “Found it on the elven summoner.”

Firth unsheathed the dagger in the light of the glowstone. He grunted, “Pretty little poker. Thank you.” He sounded mollified and returned the runic arrow Blaze had given him. I got a look from Castile, but she did not say anything.

“I want it back after this, Firth,” I tried to make eye contact, but he had just waved his hand in acknowledgment. I hope he was not going to hold onto it.

The snow was almost knee-deep now, and everyone was shivering but prepared as best we could be. Delmar took the lead through the crack in the gate, and we followed in single file. We fanned out on the other side of the gate, the ruined city laid before us. Skeletons of stone roofless buildings lined the streets; some had collapsed walls. Specters, as Konstantin had noted, walked the streets. They moved effortlessly in the field of snow, leaving it undisturbed as they moved. Delmar was dealing with the nearest one, a young elf male.

The specters noticed our arrival and started moving toward us. Castile ordered, “Remain here at the gate until we thin them out. Let them come to us!”

I moved to the right to face the length of the inner wall; two specters in guard uniforms walked through the wall of a nearby building, and I was soon fighting in the deep snow. As I engaged one, the twang of a bow behind me sent an arrow into another. “Blaze, hold your arrows!” Delmar said angrily. Blaze’s arrow passed through the specter, causing a tiny flash, forcing it back briefly, but it recovered quickly. The arrow shattered on the stone beyond, the arrowhead and splinters disappearing into the snow.

Maveith stood behind me with the Scholar, but there was not much they could do to help against the incorporeal specters. The company formed an arc at the gate with the five runic blades protecting everyone. The only consolation was the slow speed of the specters. They all appeared to be walking toward us. Castile was busy utilizing the urn on the dispelled specters. If she did not pull their death essence into the urn, they reformed from the ground in about thirty minutes.

We found that out when Castile missed one of the specters Delmar had dissipated. It reformed under Delmar and struck his leg. Delmar cursed and backed away, and I had to strike the specter down so Castile could use the urn. Delmar was limping and cursing as he handed his sword to Benito, who took his place. Castile was doing her best, but it took almost fifteen heartbeats for the violet smoke to be consumed by the urn, and the specters seemed endless.

Stolen novel; please report.

The wind shifted again, and the snow was now falling straight down. The gate and wall had shielded us from the slow, drawn-out combat for hours. The specters were easy enough to deal with one at a time. My shoulder and forearm were starting to fatigue, so I switched hands. My ambidexterity training was coming in useful.

“Cursed elemental!” Castile screamed at the sky as the snow was getting deeper. “We need to get inside a building. Favian?”

Night had given way to a gray dawn filled with continued snowfall. Favian was shivering and bundled tight. He looked up, his face blue, “The library should be entirely stone and still have its roof.” He looked left, right, and then straight, “It should be that way. Maybe a hundred yards from the outer wall.” His teeth were chattering.

“Eryk and Konstantin at the front!” Castile barked her orders. We were in the best condition of the men wielding the runic weapons; at least, we appeared the least fatigued. Adrian handed his own blade off to another man to get a rest, as did Brutus. I moved to the front and walked with Konstantin. Not only did we have to fight the specters, but we also had to break snow, which was thigh-deep now. We had definitely thinned the specters in this part of the city, but it was a city, and if everyone in the city had become a specter, that meant there could be thousands.

Many tripping hazards were hidden in the snow, but we pressed forward in a sliding walk. We moved one block into the city, and it attracted a wave of two dozen specters. We were forced to retreat back to the gate as Konstantin and I killed them one by one. I found my air shield did not deter the specters, but Castile’s shadow chains could hold them in place and prevented us from being overwhelmed. The problem was Castile needed to constantly utilize the kettle of souls, or the specters would reconstitute themselves.

We moved forward again once Castile had eradicated the spectral essences. At the intersection of the street, Scholar Favian shouted, “There it is! That building there!” A vague outline of a building through the dense snow could be seen in the gray morning light. The street had widened as we moved to the building and climbed the steps unmolested. The large front doors were missing, but Favian had been correct. The building did have a stone roof.

I took out my glowstone and entered with Konstantin. A specter greeted us, but we dispatched it quickly together. Even in the frigid air, the pungent smell of mold hit me. The antechamber to the library was round and had mosaics on the wall, mostly covered in thick green and black mold. A second and third specter greeted us from deeper inside the structure as the others moved into the room. While we handled the specters, men gratefully cleared their bodies of snow.

“Grab what you can to start a fire,” Adrian said, taking back his sword. There was not much in the room besides some dried vines.

Konstantin had already looked further in. “There are a lot of collapsed shelves and moldy books further in. Only noticed three specters, as well.”

“We will move deeper then,” Castile decided.

The shivering company pushed into the next room. It was a massive, high-ceiling room with hundreds of shelves and books. Most of the shelves had been knocked over or just collapsed on themselves with time. The specters Konstantin noted were on the far side and seemed uninterested in us at the moment. As soon as we started hacking up the shelves for firewood, the three specters moved toward us, and two we had not seen. Castile used the kettle of souls after we destroyed them. The urn now sounded like it was half full of sand. Castile also looked beyond exhausted.

It was not long before we had a fire going. Mateo was warming his hands, his fingertips white with frostbite. He was not the only one with frostbite. Some men had swollen red fingers, pale white skin, or the extremities blackening like Mateo. I finally had time to sit and take off my boots, as my feet had been hurting for hours. Felix took my black blade while I rested. For now, there were no specters.

My toes were an angry red, and some skin was peeling. I had been fighting nonstop for hours, which probably saved me from more severe frostbite. I focused my healing spell form on my feet, and the skin flaked off, giving rise to fresh, healthy pink skin. Linus came over and requested I give him all the potions in my dimensional storage. When the skin turned black, it meant the skin was dead and needed to be treated with healing.

“Don’t burn those!” A shivering Favian stood as Kolm was about to toss some moldy books on the fire.

Castile turned at the commotion, “Burn the shelves first. If we run out of wood, burn the damaged books first.” Favian nodded in thanks. I could tell he wanted to explore the tomes, but he was still in a miserable state.

I was close enough to hear Adrian and Castile talking. “I hope we have not just trapped ourselves inside the city.”

“The kettle of souls is doing its work, Adrian. We just need to not rush into the city and get overwhelmed,” Castile said tiredly. She removed the leather gloves I had given her, and her fingers were completely black.

Adrian yelled at her, “Gods, Castile! Why didn’t you say anything!” He took her hands, and they tried to warm them. “Linus! One of the lesser healing potions for Castile.” Linus rushed over and gave it to her, and she drank it with Adrian’s help as her fingers were not working. Her black skin slowly regained color.

We ended up using half of our stock of potions as we got a large fire going. Men removed their armor and laid out their wet clothes to dry. Specters arrived sporadically from both inside and outside of the complex. They were easily dealt with, and every time we slew one, Castile stood and used the kettle of souls on it.

The snowfall was not slowing, and by midday, it was almost five feet deep. At this height, traveling in the city was impossible. Not only would you have to break the snow, but you couldn’t see the specters until they were on top of you.

Concern was growing, and Flavius said, “The summoner and the specters are not going to be the death of us. He is going to bury us under ten feet of snow, and we will starve to death.” His pronouncement did not help the company’s mood, but he was right. Most men had dropped most of their extra food at the tower to lighten their packs.

Maveith cheerfully offered up his bag freely, “I have twenty-seven ration bars left.”

“I would rather starve,” Firth said, laughing at Mavieth’s offer. If things got dire, I was prepared to reveal my additional storage capacity even though I had regretfully just given way to most of my food stores.

Delmar tried to be optimistic, “If we can find the dungeon, there should be plenty of meat to harvest inside. I have never been in a dungeon that didn’t have something edible in it.”

“How are we going to search for it under ten feet of snow?” Flavius said bitterly.

“I think this city has a sewer system,” Scholar Favian interrupted the growing discontentment of the men. All eyes turned to him as tempers cooled. “Most of the great elven cities had expansive underground networks. I think one of the books Eryk has detailed their maintenance. Unfortunately, there were no maps inside.” The few of us who realized it turned and looked out at the sea of thousands of books. Most were probably useless, but there had to be a map of the city’s underground network somewhere in the mess.