Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 57

Into the Dungeons

Notes:

In this chapter, you will learn what Janner heard from the connection and it will also feature him going into the dungeons 😄😄

*****

Normally, Leeli’s music filled Janner’s heart with peace and hope. So often, it had been a refreshing spring that washed away his fears and worries, and when it was over, it was as if they had never been there. 

This time, though, it was different. This time, her song augmented his anxiety tenfold. 

He had not been able to hear Kalmar in the vision. He had heard Artham asking him where he was and if he needed help yet, and Janner had gone so far as to respond, “gate, fine for now.” He had caught two of Leeli’s thoughts that were profound enough for him to hear. The first had been, “Uncle Artham’s safe.” The second had been, “Kal’s scared and thinks something dreadful will happen.”

The second had made Janner livid. Kal was scared. Amrah had made him scared. Amrah had locked him in a cell, most likely attacked him in the process, and planted such fear in his heart that he was unwilling to cry out for help. 

Anger burning inside of him, Janner slammed his body against the heavy wooden door. This time it swung open with an enormous CREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAKKKKKK!!!! that echoed across the Killridge Mountain Range. He didn’t pay attention to that, though. He walked through the opening and ignored the opulence of the dining hall around him. 

His chin held high, his eyes fierce and dark, and his hand on his sword hilt, Janner walked stealthily but quickly towards the first door he saw. It wasn’t very big, not like the enormous wooden ones he had just walked through, but it was a door. 

Janner walked closer to it and was soon standing in the stone doorframe, looking into impenetrable blackness. It was as if all the light had been sucked out of the corridor — it was a corridor, he could feel a chilly draft flowing towards him — and been replaced with nothing. 

Something told him Kal was down there, that this was the place she would keep his brother. This led to the place she would imprison him. Now it’s just a matter of finding a way to actually see and be able to find him, Janner thought as he gazed at the emptiness before him warily. He brought his hand up to where he assumed the walls were and felt blindly, hoping that he would find something other than cold, dead stone.

Aha! he exclaimed inwardly as his hand brushed against wood. It was a torch, already equipped with an oil holder and — he sniffed it, just to be sure — plenty of oil. He grinned and slipped his pack off one shoulder so he could rummage through it while still keeping it on part-way. He soon found the matches and struck one, bringing it to the torch’s fuse. 

The lovely hissing sound of the torch lighting sent a delightful feeling of nostalgia through Janner’s mind. It sounded just like the torches they lit in Anniera every night so if anyone ventured out in the dark, they would not be lost. 

But enough with that, he told himself as he twisted his arm back into the strap of his pack. I need to find Kal and rescue him. The sooner the better. Maybe I can surprise Amrah and we’ll get out of here without any problems. 

He took a deep breath, passed the torch into his right hand, and took the first steps into the darkness. 

The passageway was long and tedious. Sometimes there were stairs, other times there were not. Sometimes Janner would walk straight for what seemed like forever and finally reach what looked like another door frame, only to realize that it was simply a turn in the path. The orange light flickered on the walls, bouncing off them evenly and predictably, so very unlike the cave walls in the island tunnel. The reminder filled his heart with grief, and shame, and once again he could not help but feel worry mingled with determination in regards to rescuing Kalmar. It was easy enough to forgive someone when you were away from them, but in person it was often so much harder. 

The only thing I can do to at least try and right my wrong is to rescue him, Janner decided. I have no other choice. And what Kal chooses...

What Kalmar chose in terms of forgiveness was a matter he had no power over. And that scared him.

Within the next few minutes, he felt the draft growing stronger and colder. Janner could only feel it on his face, but he knew his nose and ears would feel like ice to the touch. If Kal was trapped anywhere down here, Janner wondered how he could survive for any long periods of time. There was no chill from the snow or from the wind — in a sense — but it was still cold, far colder than it should have been. 

After what felt like forever, he finally saw the doorway he was looking for. Unlike every other corner passage he had come across, this one produced light and sent it shining into the hall beyond it. It was wide and open, so unlike what he had passed through so many times. Yet when he had reached it, Janner found himself waiting warily. He was a little scared to go in. Yes, there was light there. But so much of Aerwiar had been shrouded in false, seemingly innocent light over and over again. The light of the holoré and holoél were beautiful, but they had destroyed lives. What if this was that same sort of light? What if he was walking right into a trap? What if—

No, Janner shook his head. I will not back down now. I cannot back down now. 

So he forged onward. He stepped into the semi-darkness that could not decide whether it was evil and from the enemy or righteous and from the Maker based on the way it looked. The only way to find out was to walk through and trust. 

When Janner’s eyes had taken in his new surrounds, he found himself feeling surprised and a little squeamish. What surprised him were the number of cells that lay all over the place, cut into the rock and covered with wooden drawers so they could serve as places to hold prisoners. What disturbed him so much was how close anyone in these cells would be to Castle Throg and freedom, yet they were locked away in near-darkness — though there was one torch on the wall behind him that wheezed sickly —  with no hope.

He wondered how long Amrah had been using the cells and whether or not Artham and Esben had ever been anywhere in or near these dungeons. These were cages and cells, but they were not in the Deeps. No, the Deeps were much darker, dirtier, much more menacing and deadly. The place where he stood was not deadly or menacing, or at least so it seemed.

He began walking forward just as quietly as before, but this time, he was willing to whisper his brother’s name. “Kal, where are you?” he received no response, other than the sound bouncing off of wall after wall and ending in nothingness. “Kal!” he whispered his time, a note of ferocity in his voice. 

When he spoke, Janner heard an answer. It was not the most dignified response and certainly made Kal sound more like a little boy than a king again, but it was still music to his ears. It was a muffled, whimpering cry for help, and he found himself battling between relief that he was so near to his brother and anger that Amrah had dared gag him. 

“I’m coming,” he whispered fiercely, and ran in the direction of the cell, the light from the torch bouncing strangely on the walls and casting an eerie, orange glow over everything.

The corridor was long and lined with more cells than Janner had ever thought possible. Every one he passed made his heart lurch and he could barely resist the urge just to check and make sure there were no occupants, and if there were occupants, to set them free of their prison. 

But Kal is what matters right now, he told himself as he paused briefly to try and hear his brother.

Kalmar's cries were more desperate and shrill now, and sounded like: “NNNT!” Janner wasn’t sure what that meant though, so he pushed it aside and focused on the fact that his King was desperate and in need of help. He wasn’t about to stand by while Kalmar suffered. 

He was closer now, so instead of running and risking a near-miss, Janner began walking — briskly, but it was walking — and sweeping the torch in a semi-circle. Kal’s voice had come from the right, so he made sure to pay attention to those cells in particular. “Kal, where are you?” he asked again, raising his voice just a bit more this time. “OH UH-AY!” was the response this time, and the noise came from the door directly parallel to his ear.

There was a twinge of pain in his heart when Janner realized that Kalmar's words might have been, "don't" and "go away." His blood ran cold. Had his fears been confirmed? Had his younger brother not forgiven him? He felt his hands trembling and a flutter of panic raced through his chest, but he did his best to push it away. Kalmar had still sounded urgent and desperate, and no matter what, even if he was not forgiven, he had to rescue him. =

Janner ran over to the cell door should have been in. “Kal, I’m standing right outside,” he whispered into the little barred window at the top of the door, hoping the tremor of fear in his voice wasn't obvious. “Just let me figure out how to unlock this.”

He heard a groan this time, not a grunt, and couldn't help but smile, even as his stomach clenched with worry over what it might. The irritated groan was one of his little brother’s trademarks, and hearing it was the most amazing and most tortureous thing in Aerwiar. 

Janner looked at the door and inspected the locking mechanism closely. There was a padlock with a keyhole and no key, which meant he either had to find the key or pick the lock. He sighed and looked around wondering where in Castle Throg the keys would be. 

Most likely with Amrah, he grimaced, taking the padlock in his hand and shaking it for good measure. 

Then the strangest thing happened. It popped open. Not only did it pop open, it popped and went flying across the corridor, landing noisily on the stone floor. Janner looked at the now-open door with surprise, obviously mingled with thankfulness. 

Thank you, Maker, Janner thought as he pushed open the door, his torso still facing the darkness of the hall ahead. Words of panicked and stumbling apology jumbled together in his mind as he tried to find some way to voice them. But “Kal, I—” was all he got out before he heard a sharp twang and felt something strong and sharp piercing his chest, knocking the wind out of him, and sending him flying into the stone ground. 

*****

If Janner had looked to his left while “picking” the lock, he would have seen bright yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. If the lock had not gone flying and clattered to the ground, he would have heard the sound of an arrow being drawn back and he might have tried to avoid it. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. Because he never focused on anything other than his little brother.

*****

Notes:

Don't panic - HE'S NOT DEAD. And it's also very toned down from what I originally intended to do. I had to change it when I decided to switch the climax yet again (which I did approximately six times in this story, to the point at which I had to entirely re-write multiple climax chapters twice).

And Kal's yells to tell Janner to leave aren't mean-spirited, he's just trying to keep him from walking into the trap that he proceeds to walk into.