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A warm pleasant breeze brushed through the autumnal leaves of the birch trees, thick and many within the forest. The sun was beginning to make its trek down from the peak of the skies, the evening fast encroaching upon the land. Rustling patches of grass waved in the wind beside the well-trodden dirt path, fresh with footprints in the earth. Upon this path, a lone figure trudged onward, his short stature leading to short stubby steps across the way. His helmet’s visor clinked slightly with every step, the items at his belt rustled, his gauntlets flexed slightly as he swung his arms, a mighty tall claymore sat across his left shoulder as he walked.
This was Owlizard, the stout young man set out upon his first adventure, bearing a confident grin upon his face, bold and brash, visor up to see the path beyond him. Today was the day, he was sure of it. Today was the day he proved himself to be the next great hero of the realm. He was set upon a journey that would show his doubtless strength, wit and heroism. His pride would swell further had his helmet not been on.
His target was an ancient ruin set deep within these crimson woods, so called the Temple of Ashe. An ancient place built by some long lost civilization, left alone by even the stoutest of adventurers and warriors. It was said the temple was protected by mysterious ancient mechanisms, traps and devilish devices, strange fire beasts and burning pits of molten magma. Such a dreaded place would provide a worthy setting to conquer! For Owlizard figured, he was a small sort and a smart one too, he’d be able to slip his way through the traps where bigger bumbling people couldn’t. And when he emerged with the treasures rumoured within its deepest depths, he’d surely be praised for it!
Up ahead, he spied something he hadn’t been expecting. A small camp was set up ahead, four cloth tents erected around a small campfire, currently out but surrounded by small stones. Sitting around it, he spied four individuals talking with one another. The first one was a standard looking knight, decked in heavy silver armour, kite shield on his left arm in green and yellow, short sword at his belt, head covered by a red plumed grille helmet. The second was an older looking fellow in a brown cloak with a wooden staff, greying hair and a long beard reaching his stomach, some small herbs at his belt too. The third was a hunter by the looks of her, soft blonde hair peeking out from under a feathered leather cap, light green and brown armour too with a crossbow resting across her lap. The last one was a mage, light blue hair in front of a kind motherly face, sagely blue and silver robes covering her body with a black iron catalyst in her free hand.
“Hello over there!” Owl approached them cheerily, deeming them friendly enough from a glimpse. They turned to him and the response seemed mostly positive, the mage and the cleric smiling lightly whilst the hunter just batted an eye. “Might I sit with you a moment?” He asked, to which the knight nodded and he settled down nearby to them.
“Nice to meet you, young man. My name is Lorelai.” Spoke the female mage with a smile on her face. She turned her hand toward the hunter. “Over there, she is Robin. She doesn’t like to chat much.” The hunter simply nodded at her words. “Now he is Garrous, our leader.” She pointed to the knight who offered a wave with his clanking gauntlet. “And he is-“
“I will introduce myself.” The cleric interrupted. “I am Hubert. It’s a pleasure.” Owl smiled at them and introduced himself as well.
“A learning knight, eh?” Garrous thought aloud, turning to Owl.
“What brings a young fellow like you around these parts?” Asked Hubert, rasping a bit as he stroked his beard.
“I’m adventuring.” Owl replied quickly with a grin, patting his claymore. “I want to make a big name for myself, be known across towns.”
“Heh… you’re reminding me of myself at your age… ah, my youth, like the scent of fresh lemon…” Hubert mumbled to himself, as he seemed to drift off into his own world.
“Don’t mind him, he does that sometimes.” Lorelai chuckled lightly, the knight joining in. “So, where exactly are you headed for your adventure?” She asked inquisitively.
“I’m off to the Temple of Ashe to plunder its treasures!” He boasted proudly. The group reacted negatively, the mage looking worriedly at him and the hunter fixing him with a stern stare.
“Son, you do know the stories of that temple, don’t you?” The brown-cloaked man spoke up, shaking his head at the idea. “All who enter it never return. It is fraught with danger.”
“I know the stories. But I know I can handle it! I’ll conquer the temple and be named a hero!” Owl boasted gain, to the dissent of the group.
“Take it from our experience, boy.” The knight spoke coldly at him. “The temple is no place for you. Turn back and put it out of your mind.” He continued dismissively, shaking his head once again. Owl frowned at the armoured figure and stood his ground.
“Young man, I assure you, it’s far harder than you think… even experienced adventurers like us would struggle to get through it.” Lorelai advised, showing concern for the younger man. But still, Owl was steadfast.
“No temple is a match for me! I will go onward!” He then proceeded to march on past them proudly, sword in hand as he went on his way. The four watched him go and as he disappeared beyond the tree line, the hunter spoke up.
“He’s dead.”
The ancient temple looked set perfectly into the mountain ahead, jutted crags of stone arranged into the bizarre face of the temple. A heavy iron door marked the entrance, a wooden lever at its side. Despite its appearance, the door had proved to be near unbreakable by any form of force or even magic. The lever was the only way to enter. Owl hiked up his courage and hopped up slightly, grabbing onto the lever and yanking it down. There was a mechanical shudder from within the rock, the sound of thick heavy gears clanked and meshing together as the door slowly began to roll up and reveal the tunnel within, lined by torches and descending into the temple proper.
This was it, he now stood on the threshold of adventure and his future. He gathered up his guts and took a deep breath, before trekking inwards, ready for action.
The throat of the temple was particularly warm; the heat noticeably greater than the outside of the temple as the ground sloped downward into the first proper chamber. This one seemed fairly simple at first glance. The room was circular with a ghoulish four faced metal head in the middle, mouths agape as fire billowed out, reaching the walls of the room. The head was slowly rotating as the tongues of fire licked across the stone room.
Ahah! Such a simple obstacle, Owl thought proudly. Simply sticking in-between the plumes of fire as they moved would see him to the door on the other side. So, waiting for the flames to miss him, he stepped out and moved carefully with the fire to ensure he remained between them. The heat was quite incredible, but he felt safe. That was, until a slab of stone sunk beneath his foot.
Suddenly, with a sharp click, the head began rotating the other way and the speed of its movement increased. Owl yelped as the flames advanced on him and he spun on the spot, running in the other direction. Click! He’d stepped on another plate as the head began spinning the other way and got faster. With another loud manly shriek, Owl ran the other way once again. Another click and another turn, he found himself darting back and forth around the monstrous flame-spitting monument. Finally, looking straight down as he ran, he avoided any further missteps and practically flung himself out the door, barely escaping the reach of the flames. He got back up slowly, grumbling slightly, having been made a fool of by his first obstacle. Never again.
Beyond the rounded chamber, he encountered the next trap. This one too seemed fairly simple. A number of large black iron balls were swinging in front of him, attached to chains and swinging constantly. They barely scraped the floor and the momentum on them would no doubt shatter anything that came in contact.
This time, as he proceeded, he made sure to watch out for floor panels across the ground. He hopped in-between the swinging weights at the right intervals, hearing the ominous swish of the pendulums as he passed by each one. He drew closer to the final pendulum and prepared to leap past it.
A sharp whistling from behind suddenly caught his attention. He looked back and he felt his skin go paler. Another pendulum was swinging down from the roof of the chamber, spanning the length of the entire room and was coming right for him. Another manly scream escaped his lips as he leapt forward without looking. He smacked right into the pendulum swinging in front of him, grabbing onto it as it swung ever so close to the wall, at least missing the one going across the entire room. He hung onto it for a few more swings out of fear, before finally overcoming it and leaping off, hitting the ground and rolling over a few times as he left the room behind.
This temple was proving to be tougher than he expected… he could feel a pain in his chest from where he’d slammed into the stone floor. He’d remain increasingly cautious from here on out.
The next chamber seemed surprisingly safe… the room was square in shape with a door on the other end. Across the floor were a number of thinly cut channels, flowing with some form of liquid. There were no panels in sight… so, Owl crossed the room and went for the door. He pulled on the handle a bit, finding it locked. There was a brief moment of confusion before he spotted something dangling from the middle of the room on a length of rope. A key on a metal ring hung high above, too high for him to reach. Ahah, he thought triumphantly. The perfect time to make use of his sword! Standing on tippytoes, he held his sword up and hooked the key on the tip, trying to tug it free. With a sharp tug, he pulled it and the key slid down the blade of his sword. But as the keys fell, the rope came down too and opened up a set of trapdoors up above. From the trap, a single burning torch toppled down and landed in one of the channels across the room floor.
And in a moment of horror, Owl realised what that liquid flowing in the channels was… oil.
As the torch hit the oil, the fire spread across the channels in burning lines that grew in height til they towered over him. He’d inadvertently created a maze of fire across the room and he was stuck in the middle of it. With the heat rising and sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, Owl made quick to escape the maze, darting along the passages between the roaring blazes, smoke filling the room and clouding his vision. He coughed a few times as he barely avoided running headlong into an inferno and only just managed to dodge to one side in time. Finally, he reached the door and fumbled with the key in his sweaty hands, clicking it into the lock in three rattled attempts and flinging himself out of the chamber.
The guts of the temple didn’t let up in terms of heat. Even as the lone adventurer picked himself up and fumbled with his sword, he could see moisture dripping down the rocky walls, the scent of smoke trickling overhead. The place was beating down on him like a spectral presence, eternally there but lingeringly memorable.
The next chamber was the first instance Owl has seen actual lava in the place. Wrought iron beams were spanning the pit in a bizarre square based spider web, the exit a small hole across the chamber. By now, he was expecting treachery so as he placed a boot onto the iron path, he pressed down and tapped over and over to ensure it was stable. Only satisfied after a good six attempts, he finally began to traverse it, holding his arms out to keep his balance, taking one slow step at a time to the tune of the bubbling lava below that would spell his doom with naught but a single wrong step.
He stepped between beams, making sure to test each one before moving onto it, balancing his sword across his arms to maintain the weight. He gritted his teeth each time he changed beams, his courage in his throat, scrunching his eyes shut to maintain with the heat and resisting the urge to swipe his forehead.
The beams creaked beneath him with every step, stepping between them made him nervous every single time, gritting his teeth and widening his eyes. He was halfway across the room, the door on the other end became increasingly enticing with every solid step. Eventually he began to quicken his pace, feeling more confident as he drew ever closer. And finally, with a neat little hop, he’d escaped the chamber. Feeling courage in his abilities return, he strode onward down the tunnel.
The chamber beyond the last made his heart stop. It was a room akin to a chessboard, eight squares by eight squares across the floor. Each square was a pressure plate, making stepping on them unavoidable. But at least the door was simply open. Owl dreaded crossing the room, but there was no alternative. Drawing a strong breath, he stepped into the room and upon the first pressure plate.
From above, a roaring vent of fire opened up. With a quick yelp, Owl leapt forward onto another plate. This one triggered a spiked piston in the wall that rushed him. Once again he leapt out of the way and onto another one. A pendulum swung at him from above, this time he stood to face it, striking it with his weapon as it swung at him. To his surprise, the pendulum had been composed of wood, splitting in half at the hit of the claymore. Now he was still again, preparing for another surprise. He took a step forward onto another plate.
This time a flurry of arrows shot out at him from the far end of the room. Thinking quickly, Owl swung his weapon at the incoming flurry, blocking and deflecting most, but earning himself an arrow in the shin for it. Hissing in pain, he found himself only a step away from the door. And so, he ran over the final panel toward it.
A wicked crunch was heard as an iron pendulum swung into him from behind, sending him tumbling one again and shooting pains wracked the left side of his body. With a hiss, he regained his stance and realized to his horror as blood ran down his fingers. His left arm was broken. Probably at the upper arm, but even now he couldn’t feel anything in it and the pumping pain it exuded made him begin to regret coming down here. But it was too late to go back now… he had to press on.
Towering iron gates stood before him as he moved on through, into the final chamber of the damned dungeon. Inside he found a circular chamber, lined with burning lava, the heat of the place making his armour feel heavier and even induced a sickly feeling in him as he limped forward. In the middle of the room, a large ornate looking treasure chest was set before him, lined with gold that gleamed in the light. At least, Owl smiled wryly as he approached it. He’d found his reward…
But, fate is a cruel mistress. And as he soon found out, fate was out to end him this day. From above, a creature burning with unbridled fury dropped down upon wings aflame, a wicked demonic face that grinned with teeth like daggers and eyes like blackest gemstones. An ifrit was taking guard of the treasure as Owl realized he was now truly out of his depth.
But, if this were the end, he’d go down fighting. Mustering up his waning strength and preparing his sword, he charged the ifrit which came at him, burning across the ground. As they drew close, Owl swung forward and struck at the creature. The beast shifted left and struck him with a burning claw, sending him skidding, barely missing the ring of lava.
His vision was darkening… he could feel his pain numbing his senses as the ifrit drew closer to him, intent on tearing him apart. His foolhardy courage had led him to his grave, deep underground in a burning broil of despair… how had it come to this…
But as the ifrit drew close, a bolt of blue energy struck it from its side and caused it to shriek. In his wounded state, Owl turned to the entrance of the cavern, seeing the group he’d passed by earlier rushing in to fight the ifrit, the knight leading the charge whilst the hunter took her shots from the side, the cleric warding them with holy magic and the mage striking the creature with her spells. The four old heroes were a marvel to behold as they battled the burning beast… it brought a slight smile to his lips, as the blackness consumed him and he drifted into unconsciousness.
The passage of time meant little to him in his blackout state. It could’ve been days or weeks since he’d been out cold. But when he finally came to, the temperature was the first thing he noticed. The intense heat was gone and only a cooling night breeze could be felt, rustling through the familiar red leafed trees outside the temple. The old heroes were sitting around him, Hubert was brewing some kind of broth in a cauldron that smelled distinctly herbal, Garrous and Robin were conversing nearby and Lorelai was on watch away from them. Seeing he was awake, Hubert approached him and knelt before him.
“How’s the arm, son?” He asked, glancing down at it, leading Owl to do the same. His arm was in a sling, still without much feeling; at least he could flex his fingers again.
“Feels numb…” The brazen youth admitted, looking up at him akin to a child about to be scolded. Hubert just sighed and shook his head.
“I’m not going to lecture you.” Hubert began, scratching his chin. “I’m just going to give you a little advice. We’re an old team, my boy. We’ve been all across this land and then some. Garrous once had all his limbs broken during a battle with a skull demon and Robin almost went blind. What I’m saying is, adventuring is a risky business. And it hurts you no matter how skilful you are.” The old cleric spoke, taking a seat in front of the young man who looked up to him.
“Having courage isn’t a bad thing.” Lorelai chipped in, drawing closer. “But, you need to know your own strength against what you face. Or else… well.” She patted his shoulder and Owl winced slightly.
“Just don’t be stupid, Kid.” Robin added with a sigh, Garrous choosing to remain silent.
“Now now Robin… the lad still got to the bottom of that temple alive.” Hubert pointed out, tutting slightly. He turned back to him and pointed over to a large bag of gold nearby. “You’re fine to keep the treasure, lad. Just spend it wisely.” Owl looked at them with confusion.
“Why aren’t you keeping it?” He asked, sitting up slightly. Garrous sighed as he turned to them.
“To tell you the truth… this was our last journey together.” He explained as the others confirmed it with a nod.
“We’re all a bit worn out… we’ve found places in the world where we can settle down. So, we’ve decided to split up.” Lorelai followed on.
“Our little battle with the ifrit marks the end of our adventuring days… been almost 40 years.” Hubert remarked, stroking his beard again.
“And you used it to come save me?” Owl asked again as the group took a moment to nod.
“Isn’t that an adventure worth ending on?” Garrous remarked with a smile beneath his helmet.
As the night passed and the morning came, the group went their separate ways, splitting up and leaving in various routes. Garrous talked about training a group of fellow warriors in a castle town. Hubert sighed that he'd settle down in a potion shop near where his grandchildren lived. Robin was quiet, but spoke a few words about birdwatching for the rest of her days. And Lorelai spoke of settling down with an old flame back in her hometown. Their eyes were misty as they left and their various tales drew to a close before their onlooker. Owl, a sack of treasure over his shoulder and a healed arm holding his sword, headed to the nearest town to rest up and spend his new wealth. He needed time to think about his future… and what he’d do upon the words of the four old heroes.
Perhaps someday, he’d build a legacy even greater… with a little thought and a dose of courage.

Description

Story by

A warm pleasant breeze brushed through the autumnal leaves of the birch trees, thick and many within the forest. The sun was beginning to make its trek down from the peak of the skies, the evening fast encroaching upon the land. Rustling patches of grass waved in the wind beside the well-trodden dirt path, fresh with footprints in the earth. Upon this path, a lone figure trudged onward, his short stature leading to short stubby steps across the way. His helmet’s visor clinked slightly with every step, the items at his belt rustled, his gauntlets flexed slightly as he swung his arms, a mighty tall claymore sat across his left shoulder as he walked.
This was Owlizard, the stout young man set out upon his first adventure, bearing a confident grin upon his face, bold and brash, visor up to see the path beyond him. Today was the day, he was sure of it. Today was the day he proved himself to be the next great hero of the realm. He was set upon a journey that would show his doubtless strength, wit and heroism. His pride would swell further had his helmet not been on.
His target was an ancient ruin set deep within these crimson woods, so called the Temple of Ashe. An ancient place built by some long lost civilization, left alone by even the stoutest of adventurers and warriors. It was said the temple was protected by mysterious ancient mechanisms, traps and devilish devices, strange fire beasts and burning pits of molten magma. Such a dreaded place would provide a worthy setting to conquer! For Owlizard figured, he was a small sort and a smart one too, he’d be able to slip his way through the traps where bigger bumbling people couldn’t. And when he emerged with the treasures rumoured within its deepest depths, he’d surely be praised for it!
Up ahead, he spied something he hadn’t been expecting. A small camp was set up ahead, four cloth tents erected around a small campfire, currently out but surrounded by small stones. Sitting around it, he spied four individuals talking with one another. The first one was a standard looking knight, decked in heavy silver armour, kite shield on his left arm in green and yellow, short sword at his belt, head covered by a red plumed grille helmet. The second was an older looking fellow in a brown cloak with a wooden staff, greying hair and a long beard reaching his stomach, some small herbs at his belt too. The third was a hunter by the looks of her, soft blonde hair peeking out from under a feathered leather cap, light green and brown armour too with a crossbow resting across her lap. The last one was a mage, light blue hair in front of a kind motherly face, sagely blue and silver robes covering her body with a black iron catalyst in her free hand.
“Hello over there!” Owl approached them cheerily, deeming them friendly enough from a glimpse. They turned to him and the response seemed mostly positive, the mage and the cleric smiling lightly whilst the hunter just batted an eye. “Might I sit with you a moment?” He asked, to which the knight nodded and he settled down nearby to them.
“Nice to meet you, young man. My name is Lorelai.” Spoke the female mage with a smile on her face. She turned her hand toward the hunter. “Over there, she is Robin. She doesn’t like to chat much.” The hunter simply nodded at her words. “Now he is Garrous, our leader.” She pointed to the knight who offered a wave with his clanking gauntlet. “And he is-“
“I will introduce myself.” The cleric interrupted. “I am Hubert. It’s a pleasure.” Owl smiled at them and introduced himself as well.
“A learning knight, eh?” Garrous thought aloud, turning to Owl.
“What brings a young fellow like you around these parts?” Asked Hubert, rasping a bit as he stroked his beard.
“I’m adventuring.” Owl replied quickly with a grin, patting his claymore. “I want to make a big name for myself, be known across towns.”
“Heh… you’re reminding me of myself at your age… ah, my youth, like the scent of fresh lemon…” Hubert mumbled to himself, as he seemed to drift off into his own world.
“Don’t mind him, he does that sometimes.” Lorelai chuckled lightly, the knight joining in. “So, where exactly are you headed for your adventure?” She asked inquisitively.
“I’m off to the Temple of Ashe to plunder its treasures!” He boasted proudly. The group reacted negatively, the mage looking worriedly at him and the hunter fixing him with a stern stare.
“Son, you do know the stories of that temple, don’t you?” The brown-cloaked man spoke up, shaking his head at the idea. “All who enter it never return. It is fraught with danger.”
“I know the stories. But I know I can handle it! I’ll conquer the temple and be named a hero!” Owl boasted gain, to the dissent of the group.
“Take it from our experience, boy.” The knight spoke coldly at him. “The temple is no place for you. Turn back and put it out of your mind.” He continued dismissively, shaking his head once again. Owl frowned at the armoured figure and stood his ground.
“Young man, I assure you, it’s far harder than you think… even experienced adventurers like us would struggle to get through it.” Lorelai advised, showing concern for the younger man. But still, Owl was steadfast.
“No temple is a match for me! I will go onward!” He then proceeded to march on past them proudly, sword in hand as he went on his way. The four watched him go and as he disappeared beyond the tree line, the hunter spoke up.
“He’s dead.”
The ancient temple looked set perfectly into the mountain ahead, jutted crags of stone arranged into the bizarre face of the temple. A heavy iron door marked the entrance, a wooden lever at its side. Despite its appearance, the door had proved to be near unbreakable by any form of force or even magic. The lever was the only way to enter. Owl hiked up his courage and hopped up slightly, grabbing onto the lever and yanking it down. There was a mechanical shudder from within the rock, the sound of thick heavy gears clanked and meshing together as the door slowly began to roll up and reveal the tunnel within, lined by torches and descending into the temple proper.
This was it, he now stood on the threshold of adventure and his future. He gathered up his guts and took a deep breath, before trekking inwards, ready for action.
The throat of the temple was particularly warm; the heat noticeably greater than the outside of the temple as the ground sloped downward into the first proper chamber. This one seemed fairly simple at first glance. The room was circular with a ghoulish four faced metal head in the middle, mouths agape as fire billowed out, reaching the walls of the room. The head was slowly rotating as the tongues of fire licked across the stone room.
Ahah! Such a simple obstacle, Owl thought proudly. Simply sticking in-between the plumes of fire as they moved would see him to the door on the other side. So, waiting for the flames to miss him, he stepped out and moved carefully with the fire to ensure he remained between them. The heat was quite incredible, but he felt safe. That was, until a slab of stone sunk beneath his foot.
Suddenly, with a sharp click, the head began rotating the other way and the speed of its movement increased. Owl yelped as the flames advanced on him and he spun on the spot, running in the other direction. Click! He’d stepped on another plate as the head began spinning the other way and got faster. With another loud manly shriek, Owl ran the other way once again. Another click and another turn, he found himself darting back and forth around the monstrous flame-spitting monument. Finally, looking straight down as he ran, he avoided any further missteps and practically flung himself out the door, barely escaping the reach of the flames. He got back up slowly, grumbling slightly, having been made a fool of by his first obstacle. Never again.
Beyond the rounded chamber, he encountered the next trap. This one too seemed fairly simple. A number of large black iron balls were swinging in front of him, attached to chains and swinging constantly. They barely scraped the floor and the momentum on them would no doubt shatter anything that came in contact.
This time, as he proceeded, he made sure to watch out for floor panels across the ground. He hopped in-between the swinging weights at the right intervals, hearing the ominous swish of the pendulums as he passed by each one. He drew closer to the final pendulum and prepared to leap past it.
A sharp whistling from behind suddenly caught his attention. He looked back and he felt his skin go paler. Another pendulum was swinging down from the roof of the chamber, spanning the length of the entire room and was coming right for him. Another manly scream escaped his lips as he leapt forward without looking. He smacked right into the pendulum swinging in front of him, grabbing onto it as it swung ever so close to the wall, at least missing the one going across the entire room. He hung onto it for a few more swings out of fear, before finally overcoming it and leaping off, hitting the ground and rolling over a few times as he left the room behind.
This temple was proving to be tougher than he expected… he could feel a pain in his chest from where he’d slammed into the stone floor. He’d remain increasingly cautious from here on out.
The next chamber seemed surprisingly safe… the room was square in shape with a door on the other end. Across the floor were a number of thinly cut channels, flowing with some form of liquid. There were no panels in sight… so, Owl crossed the room and went for the door. He pulled on the handle a bit, finding it locked. There was a brief moment of confusion before he spotted something dangling from the middle of the room on a length of rope. A key on a metal ring hung high above, too high for him to reach. Ahah, he thought triumphantly. The perfect time to make use of his sword! Standing on tippytoes, he held his sword up and hooked the key on the tip, trying to tug it free. With a sharp tug, he pulled it and the key slid down the blade of his sword. But as the keys fell, the rope came down too and opened up a set of trapdoors up above. From the trap, a single burning torch toppled down and landed in one of the channels across the room floor.
And in a moment of horror, Owl realised what that liquid flowing in the channels was… oil.
As the torch hit the oil, the fire spread across the channels in burning lines that grew in height til they towered over him. He’d inadvertently created a maze of fire across the room and he was stuck in the middle of it. With the heat rising and sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, Owl made quick to escape the maze, darting along the passages between the roaring blazes, smoke filling the room and clouding his vision. He coughed a few times as he barely avoided running headlong into an inferno and only just managed to dodge to one side in time. Finally, he reached the door and fumbled with the key in his sweaty hands, clicking it into the lock in three rattled attempts and flinging himself out of the chamber.
The guts of the temple didn’t let up in terms of heat. Even as the lone adventurer picked himself up and fumbled with his sword, he could see moisture dripping down the rocky walls, the scent of smoke trickling overhead. The place was beating down on him like a spectral presence, eternally there but lingeringly memorable.
The next chamber was the first instance Owl has seen actual lava in the place. Wrought iron beams were spanning the pit in a bizarre square based spider web, the exit a small hole across the chamber. By now, he was expecting treachery so as he placed a boot onto the iron path, he pressed down and tapped over and over to ensure it was stable. Only satisfied after a good six attempts, he finally began to traverse it, holding his arms out to keep his balance, taking one slow step at a time to the tune of the bubbling lava below that would spell his doom with naught but a single wrong step.
He stepped between beams, making sure to test each one before moving onto it, balancing his sword across his arms to maintain the weight. He gritted his teeth each time he changed beams, his courage in his throat, scrunching his eyes shut to maintain with the heat and resisting the urge to swipe his forehead.
The beams creaked beneath him with every step, stepping between them made him nervous every single time, gritting his teeth and widening his eyes. He was halfway across the room, the door on the other end became increasingly enticing with every solid step. Eventually he began to quicken his pace, feeling more confident as he drew ever closer. And finally, with a neat little hop, he’d escaped the chamber. Feeling courage in his abilities return, he strode onward down the tunnel.
The chamber beyond the last made his heart stop. It was a room akin to a chessboard, eight squares by eight squares across the floor. Each square was a pressure plate, making stepping on them unavoidable. But at least the door was simply open. Owl dreaded crossing the room, but there was no alternative. Drawing a strong breath, he stepped into the room and upon the first pressure plate.
From above, a roaring vent of fire opened up. With a quick yelp, Owl leapt forward onto another plate. This one triggered a spiked piston in the wall that rushed him. Once again he leapt out of the way and onto another one. A pendulum swung at him from above, this time he stood to face it, striking it with his weapon as it swung at him. To his surprise, the pendulum had been composed of wood, splitting in half at the hit of the claymore. Now he was still again, preparing for another surprise. He took a step forward onto another plate.
This time a flurry of arrows shot out at him from the far end of the room. Thinking quickly, Owl swung his weapon at the incoming flurry, blocking and deflecting most, but earning himself an arrow in the shin for it. Hissing in pain, he found himself only a step away from the door. And so, he ran over the final panel toward it.
A wicked crunch was heard as an iron pendulum swung into him from behind, sending him tumbling one again and shooting pains wracked the left side of his body. With a hiss, he regained his stance and realized to his horror as blood ran down his fingers. His left arm was broken. Probably at the upper arm, but even now he couldn’t feel anything in it and the pumping pain it exuded made him begin to regret coming down here. But it was too late to go back now… he had to press on.
Towering iron gates stood before him as he moved on through, into the final chamber of the damned dungeon. Inside he found a circular chamber, lined with burning lava, the heat of the place making his armour feel heavier and even induced a sickly feeling in him as he limped forward. In the middle of the room, a large ornate looking treasure chest was set before him, lined with gold that gleamed in the light. At least, Owl smiled wryly as he approached it. He’d found his reward…
But, fate is a cruel mistress. And as he soon found out, fate was out to end him this day. From above, a creature burning with unbridled fury dropped down upon wings aflame, a wicked demonic face that grinned with teeth like daggers and eyes like blackest gemstones. An ifrit was taking guard of the treasure as Owl realized he was now truly out of his depth.
But, if this were the end, he’d go down fighting. Mustering up his waning strength and preparing his sword, he charged the ifrit which came at him, burning across the ground. As they drew close, Owl swung forward and struck at the creature. The beast shifted left and struck him with a burning claw, sending him skidding, barely missing the ring of lava.
His vision was darkening… he could feel his pain numbing his senses as the ifrit drew closer to him, intent on tearing him apart. His foolhardy courage had led him to his grave, deep underground in a burning broil of despair… how had it come to this…
But as the ifrit drew close, a bolt of blue energy struck it from its side and caused it to shriek. In his wounded state, Owl turned to the entrance of the cavern, seeing the group he’d passed by earlier rushing in to fight the ifrit, the knight leading the charge whilst the hunter took her shots from the side, the cleric warding them with holy magic and the mage striking the creature with her spells. The four old heroes were a marvel to behold as they battled the burning beast… it brought a slight smile to his lips, as the blackness consumed him and he drifted into unconsciousness.
The passage of time meant little to him in his blackout state. It could’ve been days or weeks since he’d been out cold. But when he finally came to, the temperature was the first thing he noticed. The intense heat was gone and only a cooling night breeze could be felt, rustling through the familiar red leafed trees outside the temple. The old heroes were sitting around him, Hubert was brewing some kind of broth in a cauldron that smelled distinctly herbal, Garrous and Robin were conversing nearby and Lorelai was on watch away from them. Seeing he was awake, Hubert approached him and knelt before him.
“How’s the arm, son?” He asked, glancing down at it, leading Owl to do the same. His arm was in a sling, still without much feeling; at least he could flex his fingers again.
“Feels numb…” The brazen youth admitted, looking up at him akin to a child about to be scolded. Hubert just sighed and shook his head.
“I’m not going to lecture you.” Hubert began, scratching his chin. “I’m just going to give you a little advice. We’re an old team, my boy. We’ve been all across this land and then some. Garrous once had all his limbs broken during a battle with a skull demon and Robin almost went blind. What I’m saying is, adventuring is a risky business. And it hurts you no matter how skilful you are.” The old cleric spoke, taking a seat in front of the young man who looked up to him.
“Having courage isn’t a bad thing.” Lorelai chipped in, drawing closer. “But, you need to know your own strength against what you face. Or else… well.” She patted his shoulder and Owl winced slightly.
“Just don’t be stupid, Kid.” Robin added with a sigh, Garrous choosing to remain silent.
“Now now Robin… the lad still got to the bottom of that temple alive.” Hubert pointed out, tutting slightly. He turned back to him and pointed over to a large bag of gold nearby. “You’re fine to keep the treasure, lad. Just spend it wisely.” Owl looked at them with confusion.
“Why aren’t you keeping it?” He asked, sitting up slightly. Garrous sighed as he turned to them.
“To tell you the truth… this was our last journey together.” He explained as the others confirmed it with a nod.
“We’re all a bit worn out… we’ve found places in the world where we can settle down. So, we’ve decided to split up.” Lorelai followed on.
“Our little battle with the ifrit marks the end of our adventuring days… been almost 40 years.” Hubert remarked, stroking his beard again.
“And you used it to come save me?” Owl asked again as the group took a moment to nod.
“Isn’t that an adventure worth ending on?” Garrous remarked with a smile beneath his helmet.
As the night passed and the morning came, the group went their separate ways, splitting up and leaving in various routes. Garrous talked about training a group of fellow warriors in a castle town. Hubert sighed that he'd settle down in a potion shop near where his grandchildren lived. Robin was quiet, but spoke a few words about birdwatching for the rest of her days. And Lorelai spoke of settling down with an old flame back in her hometown. Their eyes were misty as they left and their various tales drew to a close before their onlooker. Owl, a sack of treasure over his shoulder and a healed arm holding his sword, headed to the nearest town to rest up and spend his new wealth. He needed time to think about his future… and what he’d do upon the words of the four old heroes.
Perhaps someday, he’d build a legacy even greater… with a little thought and a dose of courage.