Chapter 1

Despite his exhaustion, the old man trod onward. He slumped against a granite boulder and gasped quietly, catching his breath before setting his lantern on a rock.

Relishing the cool night air, he closed his eyes to inhale the whispering breeze. Sitting alone in darkness, he noted a high-pitched thrumming within in his ears, and looking down at his dusty sandals, he saw droplets of blood peppering his feet. He closed his eyes for an instant, then looked up at the stars twinkling across the night sky. On the far away mountainside, he caught a glimpse of flickering lights from distant campfires, and trembled upon imagining unseen yet potential eyes detecting the glow of his own lantern. Cautiously, he placed it behind a boulder and dimmed the flame.

Again, the long-time astrologer focused upon the star-scattered sky, finding comfort in the familiar star patterns and barely visible moon. A meteor streaking across the heavens caught his fascination, and following its path to the horizon, his attention centered upon the yellowish glow from the nearby settlement. He pulled out a cloth and wiped sweat from his sun-worn face, then replacing it, he moved his hand with a protective gesture over the knapsack hanging from his neck. A burst of welcomed confidence followed its reassuring touch. This slight caress brought with it a surge of renewed energy. Turning his attention upward, his eyes found the dark shadow of a small opening high on the mountainside. The sense that his destination grew near brought a smile to his lips.

Reaching into his knapsack, the old man removed a small scroll discolored with time and frequent handling. Easing his lantern close, he studied it, once more gazing up at the mountainside. Satisfied, he returned the scroll to his pouch and lifted his walking stick.

Carefully, he began his ascent.

Shortly, he reached a portal nestled within the face of the mountain. Holding his lantern high, he squinted and took a single pace within dampness. Soft lamplight added flickering shadows to the dark stone walls. Quickly, he gave one last glance over his shoulder for reassurance, then stooping lower, he moved deeper within the darkness to stare down the narrow passage beyond the entry. The low ceiling, glittering by lantern-light, sent a chill up his spine. Ahead, the corridor took a sharp left turn. Once more, he glanced back to the outside world, then stepped inside.

With short, slow steps, he headed for a fork in the passageway. The corridor grew tighter and his sandals crunched rock. The close confines made him feel a brief state of panic, and he paused to breathe deeply, only to flinch as something touched the back of his neck and crawled.

Instinctively, he reached out, nearly dropping his lantern. The faint scurry of something alive moved within darkness, and he brushed the ground several times. His breathing now short and fast, and his heart pounding, he moved onward but at a slightly hastened pace.

He strained into darkness holding the lantern high. According to the map, several pathways, narrow and twisting, produced an obscure maze within the mountain. Plodding onward, he paused on occasion to check the scroll. Suddenly came a paralyzing thought; what if he could not find his way out? He shook his head, groping for comfort in the scroll, anxiously waiting for the panic to subside.

Shortly ahead, the passage divided in opposite directions. By the map's guidance, he chose the left branch and with the hair bristling on his neck, he took a step forward. Three paces later, he sensed danger and came to a halt. Stretching out his light, he stared at the floor into a gaping hole, and crouched to peer into the bottomless cavity. Inching backward, he staggered in a brief moment of dizziness, making a mental note to remember the obstruction upon his exit. Lifting the hem of his robe, he hurdled the chasm then stepped forward.

Ahead, again something alive scampered over rock but he saw only shadows. Gooseflesh rose on his arms, and the silence of the eerie confines brought an involuntary shiver. He had lost track of time and distance, and he wondered how much further the map would lead.

Stumbling forward, he came upon an open chamber with a low, sloped ceiling. Forced to hands and knees, he approached a small, square opening. Again, he reached for the scroll. Clutching his lantern, he moved toward the stairwell, his heart pounding as he began his ascent.

A narrow chamber lay at the top, and water droplets plopped slowly on all sides. Feeling something trickle down his leg, he flinched and glanced down to see the knee of his robe soaked in blood.

Through the dimness of lantern-light, the old man straightened. Looking around the circular room, his eyes widened as they moved across stone benches carved within the edges. His heart continued racing, ever faster as he considered the perfection of the circular chamber. He noted the walls covered with a panorama of paintings and drawings, art clearly from some lost epoch. Etched in stone were drawings of animals, some he did not recognize, and stick figures of hunters with raised spears and weapons of stone. Above, a vaulted ceiling was covered with paintings, mostly celestial settings of various star formations, constellations and phases of the moon.
At last, his eyes settled upon a strange circular rock rising from the middle of the floor. Too cylindrical, too perfect, like the chamber itself, it was not natural. Inching toward the monolith, he reached for the stone with a trembling hand, running fingertips lightly across its top, marveling at the smooth, cool texture. But his eyes were drawn to a thin scroll resting atop the obelisk. Ever so carefully, he held his lantern near, unraveling the parchment to observe formations running across the page, some geometrical, some triangular, some of other shapes, and more of unknown cognizance. Briefly, he studied the scroll, then re-rolled it and laid it aside.

Placing his lantern to the floor, he glimpsed an etching on the side of the monolith and squatted to study the markings, concluding they were not paintings but rather some form of writing. Upon recollection, a feeble smile came to his lips, and he touched the engraving delicately, longing to translate. Rising slowly, he nudged the lantern aside and removed the pouch from his neck. Spilling its contents on the ground, he reached to pluck a rectangular object from the pile.
Turning his head slowly, he observed lantern-light at eye-level glimmering off the sides of a small black box. A single latch held its lid shut. Lightly, he flicked the latch open and reached out, holding the box in the air as if in offering. For a short time, he stared in silence before placing the box carefully atop the altar.

Taking a step backward, he struggled into kneeling position, clasping both hands together at the chest. As the lantern dimmed, he continued staring at the box intently. Ever so slightly came a soft flicker, then another, then more. A blue glow began radiating from the inside, soft and pulsating at slow yet steady rhythms. Soon, the cadence became hypnotic as the radiance altered steadily from blue to deep purple. A luminescent mist began drifting outward, melding from within toward all directions, until it touched the old man who remained motionless in his transcendental state. With the glow surrounding, he leaned forward and touched his forehead to the stone.

As foretold, with closed eyes the old man began reciting the incantation, soft yet expectant, in the language understandable to no man of his age.