Symphonic Odyssey
: Vol. Three: Dark Sarcophagus: Verse One-Hundred and Sixteen

Thunder cracked in the dark of nothingness and Cypher could hear wails throughout the blank unrelenting chaos of eternity. Where was he, and why was he here? Had he done something wrong?

All around him was nothing but darkness. Bitter, harsh, darkness. The shrill wails yowling in the distance were his only companions as he traveled through that hell for what seemed like years, fading in and out of consciousness with each stroke of thunder.

Soon the solitude of the dark began to torment him so much, that he began to wail along with the many phantoms in the distance. Hard as he tried, however, not a single sound came from his lips, and this tormented him far worse than the darkness alone had. Centuries passed. Time grew meaningless, blurring together to form one continuous moment.

But as he began to lose hope and descend even deeper into the dark, he heard voices. Plain normal voices. Desperately, he began to seek those voices in hopes of discovering any source of light, any source of contact with other people.

He waited a little while, and as he moved through the shadows a small lantern came into view. Along with that light, he also saw two figures conversing. They seemed harmless enough and he was desperate to be near that light and join in their conversation.

As he drew nearer and nearer to that light, he realized that one of the voices belonged to Elder Fergus, and suddenly, he came into view. Could he see him? Could he hear him breathing? Cypher seemed to stop in his tracks.

From this location, he felt that he was just far enough away to where he felt comfortable that Elder Fergus could not see him but close enough to hear what the two were saying. As they spoke, Cypher listened with such intensity that all else faded away into the darkness.

“So you succeeded in your plan?” said the scratchy deep voice of the other figure.

“Yes without a hitch, my Master,” replied Elder Fergus.

“Excellent. Soon I will finally be free from this accursed darkness and back into the world of light. Long have I waited to complete the work I began so long ago. You have done well!”

Though perhaps, ‘man’ was the wrong term. As Cypher stared at them, he noticed that only Elder Fergus had any kind of physical form. The other figure seemed to be composed of nothing more than a thick grey mist that swirled in a breeze that simply didn’t exist.

Cypher could sense a dark menacing presence from this misty figure, one he had never in all his years experienced. The feeling was almost akin to being crushed. It was beyond battle pressure, beyond something mortals could contend with and it brought Cypher only despair.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything that could possibly match this kind of presence. Nothing came to mind.

Suddenly the misty figure enveloped the small lantern, shrouding its light from view. A moment later, it ejected the lantern sending it crashing to the ground. As it smashed against the darkness, instead of extinguishing as it should have, it ripped a hole into the darkness and light began to pour into this world of black.

The landscape that was revealed was horrible. Jagged, bloody spikes and the tattered remains of fallen soldiers littered the ground everywhere but their torn figures moved weakly and let out moans of agony. Thick black clouds ran across the sky, but there was no rain. A flash of lightning in the distance revealed a massive tower surrounded by a floating ring of sword-shaped stones.

Gravity, movement, and even the darkness itself seemed to defy all logic and understanding in this place. Massive, heavy-looking boulders floated about in random patterns that would shift without warning, leaving behind afterimages.

The thunder, it would seem, turned out to be the sound of these boulders crashing into each other as they sporadically slammed together at blinding speeds. The noise signaled not the coming of rain, but torment for anyone caught between them.

A sudden movement directly above Cypher made him look upwards. To his horror, he saw many poor souls, each as grey and colorless as the misty figure, swirling in the air above. The people were so pale and devoid of color, that they appeared as ghosts, and it was at that moment that fear overtook him.

Was he to remain here with the many phantoms until the end of time? Cypher could not bear to think about such things. His sanity wavered and he returned his attention back to the two figures. He then noticed that the misty figure seemed to be staring him directly in the eyes, which was a very disturbing feeling since it had no eyes of any kind to be staring with.

The misty figure let out a long and horrible earsplitting laugh and then moved through the veil of darkness into the light. His laughter continued even as the light disappeared and the dark claimed him yet again leaving him alone in the shadows once more.

Cypher leaped out of bed and screamed, the waves of his uncontrolled mental energy cracking the wall in front of him and sending bits of paint crumbling to the ground. Cold sweat covered his whole body, and his heart was pounding in his chest.

He had of course had bad dreams in the past, but never anything quite like this. Everything had been so vivid and Cypher couldn’t distinguish between what had been a dream and what had been reality. Chills ran down his spine as he tried to catch his breath and after a moment he stepped out onto the balcony to get some fresh air.

“What in the hell was that?” he said silently to himself, fear and confusion heavy in his voice as he clutched at his head. He looked up and stared at the crescent moons and let out a sigh before following it up with a deep breath. The air was warm and humid, but it still felt good against his skin and helped to ease his mind.

Dawn was about an hour away and Cypher wasn’t about to go back to sleep after such a horrible nightmare. Instead, once he had calmed down, he performed his morning routine and made himself some breakfast. Afterward, he spent some time studying his copy of the fourth volume of the Rank-One Architect’s Draft.

He had pulled it from his dimensional pocket contained within the ring Galex had given him years ago. The Deep Pockets spell was immensely useful and the size of the pocket dimension it created was determined by how much Zight one poured into the spell while casting it.

Any object could become a storage item when this spell was used upon it, and gemstones made especially good storage containers in this respect. For some reason, the effects of the Deep Pockets spell were twice as effective when used in conjunction with gemstones and as such were the perfect item to use, however only the finest of gems carried this unique property.

As it was, Cypher had many other items tucked away in his ring and was ready for a multitude of situations, and the two additional gems set into the silver band meant that his storage capabilities would be immense should he choose to cast the spell upon them as well.

His thoughts, however, were not on his ring, but instead eventually drifted back to the nightmare. Instead of continuing to be afraid he studied it and tried to memorize the things he had seen. It was no ordinary dream, that much he was certain of. Something about it had seemed all too real and the fact that Elder Fergus had been there only solidified that idea further in Cypher’s mind.

By the time all was said and done, the sun had risen and Cypher was expecting Alvin to arrive at any moment. What would happen next though Cypher couldn’t say. It wasn’t like he was an Academy student, or even a child anymore. He was capable of keeping secrets, but the contents of that area of the castle were truly beyond what he could have ever imagined.

Something like that was global security levels of secret and he worried that he might be silenced in order to keep that secret from getting out. Obviously, he didn’t want to die, but Cypher wasn’t one to fight against fate. He would face this and one way or another, he would come out on the other side.