Arran looked at Karanos in astonishnt. "Worthless rocks?"
He almost felt offended at the words. His most prized possession was his startal sword, and that was nothing compared to even a single one of the hills that surrounded them.
To hear such treasure dismissed so casually caused him no small amount of shock. If startal was re trash, then his own possessions were little more than the trinkets of a child.
But he knew that Karanos was neither bragging nor mocking him. From the matter-of-factly way in which the man had spoken, it was clear he considered it a simple truth. And if that was the case, then the mines contained sothing far more valuable.
"The people who built the city," Arran began, "what were they looking for, if not startal?"
"You will find out soon enough," the gaunt mage replied, gesturing for Arran to follow him as he began to walk toward the far end of the cavern. "But first, where do you think startal cos from?"
"The remains of fallen stars?" Arran said in a hesitant voice.
That was what the shopkeeper who had sold him his sword had said, and he’d never given the story much thought. Now, however, he began to wonder whether it was just a tall tale.
Yet Karanos nodded. "Burning rocks sotis fall from the heavens," he said. "Those are what people call fallen stars — though I doubt that they are actually stars. Most of these rocks are unremarkable, but a rare few of them contain startal. To the best of my knowledge, such rocks are the only source of startal in the world."
"But then..." Arran shot a glance at the nurous hills of startal surrounding them, then turned back to Karanos with a questioning look on his face.
"Indeed," Karanos said. "The rock that fell here must have been a true monster. I suspect it fell when the world was still young. And when it fell, its outermost layers broke off and filled the surrounding lands with gems and tals. After that, the core must have lain buried for countless eons."
"Until the people who built the city ca to mine it," Arran said. He wasn’t certain whether he believed the story — much of it sounded quite far-fetched — but he certainly didn’t have anything better to offer.
"If they were indeed people," Karanos said. "Which is sothing I have so doubts about. But yes, eventually, they arrived and built these mines."
"But if they weren’t mining for startal, what were they after?" Arran asked.
It was obvious that Karanos had spoken the truth about the startal being discarded as trash. In just a few minutes of walking through the cavern, they had already passed hundreds of startal hills, spaced out evenly with wide roads between them.
"You will see that soon," the white-eyed mage replied. "It will be easier to explain once you have seen what lies at the center of this rock."
Arran responded with a hesitant nod. Even though he was curious about their destination — and the treasures they would find there — he felt more concern than excitent. While he did not believe Karanos intended him harm, he could not escape the feeling that there was danger ahead.
They continued on through the cavern for over two miles, passing nurous startal hills along the way, each consisting of neatly piled stacks of startal chunks. To Arran’s eyes, it seed like the greatest treasury the world had ever seen — endless amounts of a tal whose value exceeded that of gold many thousands of tis.
And yet, with so bewildernt, he realized that the miners would have probably have destroyed the startal, had they been able to do so. It was only because the material was nigh indestructible that they had chosen to pile it up where it could be ignored, instead.
Finally, they reached the far end of a cavern, where a tunnel led deeper into the ground. Although it was about fifty feet across, the vastness of the cavern before it made it seem small, and Arran had an oppressive feeling when they stepped inside.
The unease he felt about their surroundings was soon forgotten, however, when he realized that the tunnel’s walls were made of pure startal. With wide-eyed wonder, he looked at the glistening surface, curious just how the miners had managed to cut their way through the material.
"You’ll understand soon enough," Karanos replied when Arran asked him the matter. "We’ve now entered the core, and from here, it’s just a few miles to its center."
The tunnel wasn’t straight, as Arran had expected. Rather, it wound its way through the startal in a snake-like pattern, twisting and turning for no apparent reason.
At a guess, Arran thought the miners must have chosen this as the weakest route through the thick layer of startal — perhaps cutting through it had not been easy even for them and whatever tools had allowed them to delve through the impenetrable tal.
Barely twenty minutes later, they erged into a large, dark space.
Karanos made a small gesture, and the ball of bright light that had guided their way suddenly expanded in size, presenting Arran with a view that once more made his eyes go wide with astonishnt.
This was no hall or cavern. Rather, it was a perfectly spherical space, about two hundred paces across, with walls that consisted entirely of a smooth layer of startal.
Yet although the space was as grand as it was alien, it wasn’t what caught Arran’s eye. Rather, what drew his gaze was what lay at its center.
In the middle of the spherical space stood a large startal dais, and upon it sat sothing that Arran could only describe as an amorphous mass of pure darkness, entirely still yet sohow appearing alive.
The dark mass was more than just unsettling. rely looking at it caused him an almost instinctive fear, and he felt as if the darkness was sohow pulling at him, trying to draw him inside of it.
With a start, he realized this was no re feeling — the cloth of his robe was stretched in the direction of the black mass, and he understood that the pull he felt was entirely real.
Most disturbing of all, however, was that there was sothing deeply familiar about the formless darkness, as if it was sothing he had long known.
"Is this the treasure?" he asked, looking at Karanos with wary eyes.
"It is not," the man replied. "This is what brought forth the treasure. But the treasure itself was taken away long ago."
Arran frowned uneasily. Karanos did not seem as if he had any malice in mind, but the formless shadow a hundred paces before them scread danger.
Had he not known it was impossible for him to escape Karanos if the man intended him harm, he would have long since fled. And even now, he was preparing to fight his companion if necessary.
"Then what was the treasure? And if it’s gone, why are we here?" He glanced at the mass of darkness again, then added, "And what is that thing?"
"To answer your first question," Karanos said, "this place once held shards of Living Shadow. Look."
With a single movent, he produced a long blade in his hand — a simple sword, seemingly forged from unremarkable iron. Then, in a casual stroke, he struck a blow to the startal wall, leaving a deep scar in the supposedly indestructible tal.
Arran looked on with wide eyes. "What is that?"
"This is Living Shadow," Karanos replied. In an instant, the blade in his hand turned as black as the mass of darkness at the center of the space and took the shape of a long spear. With this, he struck the wall again, and although the blow was a clumsy one, it left another deep scar in the tal.
Karanos frowned. "I’ve never been much good with weapons," he said with a sigh. As the spear disappeared from his hand, he turned to Arran. "That is the treasure I an to give you."
Arran looked at him in astonishnt. "You’ll give your sword?" Living Shadow or not, to Arran’s eyes it was a sword — and the best he’d ever seen.
"Not mine," Karanos replied. "And since no more Living Shadow remains here, we will have to retrieve a piece for you — because although this place was stripped clean, an endless supply lies on the other side."
"The other side?" Arran’s puzzled expression lasted only a mont, then turned to one of horror as he glanced at the mass of darkness. "You want us to go into that... thing?"
"That thing is a tear in our reality," Karanos said. "And on the other side lies a Shadow Realm. We will enter it, and retrieve your gift."
"It’s a Shadow Realm?" Now, Arran understood why the unnatural mass of darkness looked so familiar, but the knowledge brought him little comfort. "We’re entering a Shadow Realm?!"
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