Remedy (Forgotten Legacies Book 3)

Book summary

"Remedy" delves into a world where ancient legends and war intertwine. As whispers from a long-forgotten realm disrupt the peace, a solitary adventurer is drawn into the enigmatic Depths of Acheron. On a quest for something deeply concealed, he faces entities yearning for what was unjustly taken from them. This gripping narrative unveils the forgotten and unseals the bound, leading to an epoch where the world confronts its deepest fears.

Excerpt from Remedy (Forgotten Legacies Book 3)

Chapter One - The Treasure Hunter 

Dawn approached, not caring for those who would be bound by its spell. Most would celebrate the first glimmer of light as it cast hope upon a new day, others would mourn the losses of the night; and then there was Rob. For him the encroaching dawn was like the sand of an hourglass, trickling away precious seconds. Where he stood when the final grain fell, and light touched the unseen horizon, would decide his fate. Life or death. Victory or defeat.

Time was of the essence, and too much had slipped away since he had first entered this domain. Even now he found himself being driven deeper into the twisting labyrinth, rather than seeking an escape. But still, he had to hold on to the belief that a portal was within reach. He would not survive being sealed within The Depths of Acheron.

The pressure of every passing second bore down on him with crushing force, adding to the fatigued burning that spread throughout his exhausted legs. His lungs screamed for air as he ignored his body’s desperate cries for rest. How could it ask that of him when to stop would be to die? Those things, the ones living within the tunnels, were close behind. The scraping of their dull claws on the stone surface echoed through the warrens. But there was light ahead, an opening. He could but pray he would find himself somewhere familiar.

His momentum should have sent him plummeting to his death. It was only by sheer luck the ore lining the ledge’s edge had caught the flickering light from his torch. But it had left very little time to react. His feet skidded, giving those precious few seconds required to turn and grasp at the stone ledge as he fell. His knuckles turned white under the exertion. Digging his feet into the wall his gaze turned downward, tracing the path of his torch as it spiralled through the air to leave a glowing trail of smoke and cinders. Despite the countless journeys to this domain, and the horrors witnessed, he was somehow unable to accept this scene. Below stood the abandoned ruins of a stone city, larger than anything he had before encountered. The creatures hissed and snarled from within their darkened shelter, yet did not continue to pursue him. They remained within their territory as if they were fearful to trespass further.

Below, the city’s spired buildings and domed roofs stood tall, draped in moss and vines causing the once pale stonework to grow dark with age. The area seemed undisturbed in what, he hoped, was an indication of its long-standing abandonment. Straining his ears he listened for sounds of life, for evidence of things dwelling below. The silence was unnerving. Either this city had been deserted as its first impression implied, or something silent prowled the ruined and darkened streets.

Even at their greatest the craftsmen of his own domain could not construct such beauty. The stonework shimmered with metal, yet woven within, like mortar or binding, vines and roots burrowed. They secured large blocks together in such a manner that deliberate construction was the only plausible answer.

The city had been crafted in natural balance. Its design sung of an affinity between magic and man. The people who had once dwelt within the walls, those who could combine opposing forces and marry them in grand displays of harmony, possessed a talent that would leave wielders of the arcane in awe. Rob wondered what had become of these grand architects; it was unclear if they had been driven from their homes or simply been seduced by the bestial nature of all within this domain. Had they cast aside the final shreds of their humanity, leaving their structures to become one with the darkness?

This city had been left to ruin. With its masters’ absence nature had once more grown dominant, slowly reclaiming parts of the land. The weight of heavy vines and fungi causing stone to collapse and metal to rust. The city was growing, yet at the same time was plagued with decay.

Narrowing his eyes Rob studied the rooftops. Dark smears revealed silver shimmers of reflected light, some scattered with stripped bones suggesting his concerns about the silence were founded. A nest, perhaps, but certainly a hunting ground of some description. But to what he couldn’t be certain. There were no clear marks to allow him to formulate an educated guess. Rob swallowed, recalling his pursuers’ reaction to this area. He suppressed a shudder, trying to imagine the predators of those from within the tunnels. Those creatures had evolved into carnivores, everything about them had indicated dominance. Yet it seemed there was something here even they had cause to fear.

Distant sounds echoed through the darkness causing him to turn his focus upwards. Bioluminescent fungi grew in crevices and hollows found within the sheer cliffs, crudely and poorly casting light and shadows. The minimal lighting revealed only towering walls of darkness where the large glowing spores became pinpricks of light, like stars on a clear night, stretching up into an expanse he could not even begin to fathom.

He tried to relax, telling himself the gruelling chorus of shrieks coasting on the almost undetectable breeze were far away, carried to his alert senses by the echoes they rode upon. But the tightness spreading across his chest, and the prickling of the hairs at the nape of his neck, warned him his instincts believed otherwise. For the briefest moment the area seemed darker, like a cloud had covered the sun; but here there were no clouds, no sun, no sky, at least none that he had seen.

His grip trembled, his body flinched in response to a strange, eerie cry. The natural flickering light from above was masked by a shadow almost as haunting as the noise which now filled the air. Of all the sounds within the world he could attribute this to none. The shriek contained an almost bestial roar within its guttural depths, as if more than one creature cried from the throat of the being.

Pinpoints of light continued to fade as more complex and ear-piercing screeches echoed their response. Rob felt his tense limbs spring into action, carrying him down towards the rooftops below. There, he could at least seek shelter. With every downward step his chest and stomach grew tighter. His heart pounded with a deafening roar, one almost loud enough to conceal the ever-nearing cries. If he had any hope of escaping he needed to be heading upward, not being forced constantly lower. If he failed to reach an exit before dawn he, like his fate, would be sealed. He would not survive the twenty-eight days it would take for the portals to once more materialise.

Horrific wails reverberated, announcing that the circling creatures had seen him. Their large leathery forms swooped closer before veering away from the wall that briefly deterred them. It would not be long before they adapted their approach. He quickened his descent, his eyes burning from his refusal to blink. He could not die, not down here.

Rob adjusted his position as the first of their talons fixed upon the wall, twisting its enormous frame to begin a vertical pursuit. He aligned himself with the closest rooftop and braced for impact as he pushed himself away from the stone cliff face. He would be exposed for a short time, but if he picked his route with care the shadows and spires could be used to his advantage. Louder, more excited cries, filled the air at his sudden and unexpected movement. Twisting as his body struck the roof he attempted to roll, losing traction against the coat of thick green residue which seemed to cover a smooth surface beneath. He heard the unmistakable sound of a crack before his eyes caught sight of the webbed damage spanning out from the place he had first impacted.

Regaining his footing he carefully began to move, his mind warning him of the dark circling forms above. He fixed his vision to the expanding fractures. His disruption of the algae revealed nothing but darkness below and, perhaps, a slight hint of reflected light. Each shift of his weight caused the cracks to expand further.

Rob looked upwards, readying his crossbow as he lifted it from the clasp on his belt. Its tether momentarily twisted around his arm as he tried to find the correct bolt. He dared not avert his eyes from the descending creatures. The walls rippled with their movement, their numbers immeasurable through the darkness, and more circled overhead. He loaded the bolt, feeling the floor physically shudder beneath his feet. Cries echoed from above and, with no salvation in sight, Rob closed his eyes launching himself upwards, using his momentum to land heavily on the fractured roof.

The glass shattered beneath his feet, cascading with him down into the large open space below. He prayed, to any who would listen, that his eyes had not deceived him.

The shadows of the circling creatures grew larger, their clawed talons scraping on the rooftop, scratching new paths for light to penetrate as they fumbled to find their footing before taking to the air once more. He saw the ripple of thick algae-coated water below him, the source of the slight reflection of light he had seen from above. The heavily decaying stench caused bile to rise in his throat as his form broke the stagnant surface. He fought his way through the thick fluid, gasping for breath, gagging as the odour penetrated his nostrils.

All fell silent, except for the sound of Rob pulling himself from the dense and putrid waters, and onto the slate floor. His hand stirred the sleeping moss, which grew in thick and sporadic blankets, causing shimmers of light to expand outward from his location. For the briefest moment it illuminated the area as its light chased throughout the temple, extinguishing as quickly as it spread until only the area in contact with him remained aglow. Each leaf and capsule activated those within its mat, bathing the area with a gentle green light in a display of nature’s own magic. His movements sent invisible spores to pass along silent communication between the capsules, ensuring the gentle blooms lit his path whichever way his feet staggered.

Rob’s eyes fixed on what he hoped would be an exit. He needed to get out of here. The darkness that shrouded the room bordered on the unnatural and, in this realm, darkness truly was a thing to fear. It was the flesh and blood of nightmares.

Shadows played as light from above was obstructed by the still-circling hunters. The area was enormous. The tall ceilings were supported by thick columns, larger and wider than most modest dwellings he had seen. The giant cylinders, embossed with images he could not discern through the gloom, made him feel tiny, insignificant. He leaned against the nearest pillar, resting for a moment. He could see very little, but there were enough implications to suggest it could be a place of worship. The grandeur, and time such a construction would have taken, was likely only to be the result of dedication, or servitude.

Rob swallowed, his eyes narrowed almost certain that the darkness had become more tangible. His rising fear was a subtle reminder of his predicament. The familiar glow of moss once more chased throughout the temple before centring on a distant point, adding a depth and length to the room he had not thought possible. The subtle illumination became overpowered by the shifting darkness, as if the shadows themselves worked in twisted unison to quell the light. But the more this spiralling mass advanced, the larger the guiding carpet became. He felt his chest tighten as the mosses’ influence expanded further, quicker. Something was coming. His feet slipped in the dank fluids pooled around him as he began his retreat. Turning his back on the moss, but unable to ignore its growing luminescence, he forced his trembling legs into action.

His elongated shadow began to expand before him, warning of the closing proximity, but he dared not glance behind. He knew to behold his pursuer would be to seal his fate. Fixing his sight forwards, he focused on the small ray of light he hoped marked his escape.

Each rapid breath was perfectly timed with the hard impact of his boots upon the floor. The light at his own feet was slowly being overpowered from the increasing glow behind him. A light that was not fading, but growing ever larger to become visible in his peripheral vision.

The glimmer of metal reflecting in the expanding light caught his attention just moments before his damp hand slid down the surface of an overly large door. Within it, clearly illuminated, lay a smaller, locked door. Taking his dagger he wedged it between the securing bolt. The trembling of his hands forced him to muster control over his panicked breathing, but fear warned him of the increasing darkness of his shadows. The three perfect copies, one from each angle of expanding light, were growing more solid, darker, warning him how near his pursuer drew.

With great effort he forced his gaze to remain steadfast on the bolt. Tensing his muscles against the tremors he prised it from the wooden structure. The echoing sound of metal set his nerves further on edge. He shoved the door, surprised how easily it opened as he tumbled forwards into what would have once been a street. Scrambling to his feet he hastily slammed the door, pressing his body firmly against it until his commonsense caused him to question the use of such an action.

Rob’s frantic vision searched the area before him. Whilst he could have marvelled at the eloquence and beauty of the buildings, which lined the cracked paved streets, his mind had turned to survival. He beheld only shelter and shadows, where brilliant structures and architecture were in abundance. His footsteps echoed, the only sound through an otherwise silent tomb.

Dark buildings towered over him, their blackened windows not quite concealing the flickers of movement his mind warned him came from within. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle again, causing him to glance upwards as he took shelter beneath one of the many archways that littered the winding streets.

The small voice in the back of his mind, the one he often trusted to keep him safe, told him the portal was higher, that he needed to gain height, and quickly. He called this voice commonsense. The portals were always close to the surface. But he was a stranger to this area. With the vast monuments he could see little before him, although the roaring of water cascading down from one of the aqueducts became increasingly more prevalent.

He followed this sound until his sight fell upon a central reservoir. The amount of water being deposited was a clear indication that only a small portion was visible above ground. Edging forwards, confident the roaring of water would disguise his rapid footfall. He worked his way up what appeared to be a stone staircase beside the thundering torrent. It was only on closer inspection that he noticed the water descended an identical structure, separated from this one by a small channel. He looked above, hoping the dry texture of this stone signified its lack of use.

Crouching near the top of the aqueduct he surveyed the area. The bridges were joined, creating a complex outer ring to the basin this city had been constructed within. Several channels, similar to the one he had just climbed, descended in various locations, all depositing the water collected as it cascaded down the basin’s cliffs from numerous sluice gates. Small sections of the outer ring had crumbled away, sending waterfalls crashing down into unseen depths.

He walked the stone canal, keeping a constant vigil on his surroundings as he followed his new path over the city. As yet he could not discern a way to scale the basin; but there was bound to be something near the outer ring, a means to access the sluice gates in case of failure. He just needed to find it.

The aqueducts forming the outer ring were larger and wider than the one he had so carefully walked. He felt safe upon its thick stone platform, but still his pace never faltered. He felt the staggering clumsiness of each hurried step. His body visibly recoiled as the familiar wail sounded from above.

He forced his limbs to work harder, his stomach tightening as the roar of water from the damaged bridge before him grew louder. The waterfall, seeming so small from his initial vantage point, now appeared in all its splendour, ever growing, monstrous. The cries from behind forbade him from rethinking his path, but the almost inaudible churning of heavy waterwheels below warned of an equally fatal danger. He would rather attempt this jump than offer himself as a feast.

His feet left the bridge. Every muscle tensed, adding extra force to the leap, but still he knew it would not be enough. Grasping his crossbow tightly he let out a cry, drawing the attention of his pursuers, spurring them into action before they lost their prey to the depths. He released the bolt as the first shadow sailed above him. The agonised cry came as audible evidence his aim had been true. He rotated his hand, securing the tether as the rope grew taut. The struggling efforts of the creature lifted him higher as it attempted to flee. Water whipped around him as he was dragged through the spray, his grip remaining firm as the creature continued its frantic flight.

Gasping for breath Rob scrutinised the area below, noticing for the first time the thick heavy chains which operated the counterweights to open and close the sluice gates. They had cleared the break, and covered a surprising distance given the obvious fatigue of his carrier. Pulling himself up he unhooked the tether before uncoiling it from his grasp, hoping his judgement was correct. He braced himself for impact, rolling as he struck the ground. With barely enough time to confirm his path he rolled again. Putting extra force into the movement he propelled himself from the aqueduct towards one of the chains, hoping he had gauged it correctly. He fell several feet before his extended arms impacted with the chain. He could but hope his pursuers had thought him lost to the currents below.

He dared not pause to catch his breath. He had to push onward and upward to what appeared to be a dark ledge above the sluice gates. Reaching it was his only hope of escape. Grasping the thick chain in his hands he used the large links as a ladder, knowing if negotiated correctly it would shield and protect him while he climbed.

When he had scaled half the chain’s length he felt it shudder beneath his weight. From above the sound of grinding gears began to echo. He closed his eyes briefly before redoubling his efforts. The leathery beating of wings and the flurry of movement below caused his stomach to lurch in time with the chain.

Whilst some sluice gates seemed to remain permanently open, others appeared to release when the pressure reached a required force. Their timing most likely calculated to ensure the continued movement of the great waterwheels he had seen within the aqueducts. It made sense, people with the ability to erect such a place would also incorporate a method to ensure water could gather to the strength needed. It also made sense that a newly opening source would attract predators. Not only water would be carried from the land above.

Rob tightened his grip as the mechanism shuddered once more before dropping slightly. He turned his attention to the chain running parallel to his own. His had lowered as that one had risen. With a deep intake of breath he tentatively transferred his weight across to the rough surface of the corroded wall, not fully releasing his grasp until he was certain it was safe. As quickly as he dared he edged across, his fingers and feet utilising water-worn ridges and crevices.

The grinding sound echoed again, sending a flurry of shadows from below up into the air, racing upwards past him as the wall at his fingertips began to grow damp. A second wave followed, the force of their movement knocking him off balance and into the flock. Their rapid movement battered him as he fell, knocking him aside until he felt the force of the chain strike him. He clawed desperately at the metal, wrapping his limbs around the link and tightly interlocking them until all movement from below had halted. His body protested against the prolonged exertion and injuries, while his adrenaline, coupled with his mind, channelled it away to be dealt with at a later time. Right now he could only focus on surviving.