III. Dungeon Crawling
Amaya found himself back in the murky expanses of the cave she thought she had escaped. The walls felt much closer than before and an unpleasant heaviness clung onto the icy air. It wasn’t humidity, it was something else untangible that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Still, she trudged onwards. One hand was tracing the wall and the other hand was hovering over the quill affixed to her belt. The petite magus was ambidextrous, so it didn’t hinder her that much.
The uneasiness that knotted in her stomach only grew and was compounded by the sudden chills in the air. A tell tale burning coiled around her arm so she dropped it. Her hand then slid down the slimy, jagged stone walls. The palm of her hand was scraped brutally by the uneven indentions in the wall. And then, it brushed against something that was damp and softer.
Amaya curled her stinging knuckles and dug her calloused fingertips against the more tender surface. She was met with a bristling sensation as her fingers sunk slightly into the area. The mage pressed further and then drew circles with her finger tips. The feeling of bristling intensified.
The magus soon realized that it was probably wood. The texture was nearly identical to the weathered panel in her dorm that had begun to rot.
The enchantress blindly continued to grope the surface. Shortly afterwards, her fingers traced something with the all too familiar sting of cold metal. She clasped it tightly and twisted it around until a solid click emerged.
As she clutchted the knob tighter, the willowy magus pressed all her weight against the wall. It didn't budge much but it definitely moved. Phantom needles pierced through her side and Amaya took it as a cue to step back. Her arm was now stiff from the prolonged pain that Amaya had been trying to ignore. Admittedly, she was not physically adept. Still, she couldn't help but be disappointed at how easily she was worn out.
The ebony haired mage used her uninjured hand to procure her quill. She tapped the base of the raven feather three times and small indigo sparks flickered about. They jumped to the tip of the feather and surrounded it in a bolder hue.
"Impetus." She chanted as she drew a sigil of a tempest into the air. A bolt of hot white light shot out from the tip of her quill and conjured a spinning sphere of wind that grew as it charged forwards. It sliced through the air and soon, the dull thud of something being knocked down rang out.
Amaya grinned. Though her prowess in medical magic left a lot to be desired, her affinity towards pure magic did not. Supernatural elements, such as the essence of wind and influencing weather, were her bread and butter.
She lunged into the gap within the wall but halted as the buzz of hushed, albeit distinct, chatter fell upon her ears. The worn heels of her academy boots skidded noisily against the gravel ridden ground and would surely attract attention.
“Regina, I told you to leave. You’re going to get sucked in if you stay.” An all too familiar strained voice croaked. “Please. I gave you answers and you’ll get nothing more out of staying here.”
“I don’t want to leave without you. Please come with me. Hiro, please!” Another voice cried.
“I hate to interrupt but I really could use your help.” Amaya hollered. The room she had staggered into was still devoid of light but it had an entirely different atmosphere than the cave. “I'd to leave.”
The baritone chuckled. “You can’t leave.”
The voice wasn’t threatening but the insinuation behind those words caused Amaya's bones to go cold.
“Why?” Amaya choked out. She suddenly felt extremely light headed and dizzy. There was no doubt that he was going to fall soon.
“This is your subconscious. Well to be more specific, this is our subconscious. Welcome to the Phantom Lair.” The voice boomed. It was carefree and welcoming but the whole situation was just too bizarre for her to grasp.
“What he means is, this is a place that you can only visit when you’re unconscious.” The more melodic alto voice clarified. “The only way for you to leave is when you regain consciousness. But you won’t anytime soon.”
Before she could open her mouth to ask why, the supposed female voice continued her explanation.
“I was the one who found you. You passed out again after I used the smelling salts so I decided to use telepathy to dive into your memories. I ended up coming to this place instead. While I’m here, you can’t wake up.” She told him. “I’m sorry, it was was wrong of me to invade like that. But now I know why you’re so....”
There was a pregnant pause as she fished around for the right words. “Unfortunate and sought after.”
Now, Amaya was even more confused but an epiphany befell her. The deeper voice belonged to the very same man she had encountered earlier. “Is that what you meant when you asked why everybody wanted to kill me?”
“Mmhmm.” The male (or so she assumed) voice laughed. “You’re possessed by a phantom. Just like me.”
“Possessed?” Amaya shrieked. She had never fought an apparition but she had her fair share of ghost stories and they never ceased to unnerve her.
“Not by a ghost,” the baritone voice clarified. “A phantom. They’re different. Phantoms are physical beings with the ability to play with your mind. They’ll talk to you in your sleep and throughout random times of the day. Since they’re monsters from the underworld, they come in all shapes and sizes. For all we know yours could be a bat or a hideously mutilated cat or a worm with lots of teeth.”
Amaya shuddered at the imagery and pulled her cloak closer. “So in short, I’m doomed?”
“Well, there is a way for us to help you. Phantoms are puppet masters. If you do the task they want you to do, they’ll leave you alone. Problem is, phantoms are always ambiguous.” The male voice sighed. “And super sadistic. Which is why I’m the way I am right now.”
“He’s been stuck in the Phantom Lair for years,” the female voice explained in a rather somber tone. “He refused the request of one of the phantoms that possessed him. Even though he’s dead now, his essence is doomed to stay here for eternity.”
“Not to worry! I refused the request on my own accord , for it was far too ludicrous. However, your phantom doesn’t seem as unreasonable. After all, you’re still in one piece, eh?” The male voice reassured although his words exacerbated Amaya’s concern.
“He can’t be the only one who refused a request from a Phantom. How come he’s the only person I’ve run into?” Amaya asked. She could’ve sworn that the air had somehow gotten stiffer.
“Everyone is confined to their own prison in the Phantom Lair,” He explained. “I have no clue how you ended up in mine. I also clearly told you to leave this place.”
“I gladly would’ve if I could’ve,” Amaya retorted.
Then she paused as she recalled his earlier words. “What’s the gleam of amethyst?”
“Amethyst is the trademark of a nasty, nasty phantom. Unless you’re a masochist, avoid everything with amethyst eyes.” The male insisted. Amaya could've sworn his voice dropped by two whole octaves.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” the female informed. “We’ve been followed by one.”
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