Erwin could do no more but stand as motionless as a carved sculpture, his eyes wide and locked tightly on Olive's form. The frost seemed to almost radiate from her figure in pulsing tendrils, each arm reaching out farther and farther before melting away in globules of water. The surreal scene unfolding before Erwin might has well have come out of a child's fairytale or an abstract painting. In the back of his mind he tried to recall magic being used this way, but no conjured memory could even remotely compare to what he was witnessing.
Even though Silas was stood right next to him, the man's terse voice was but a distant call compared to the sounds of crackling ice and grinding rock. You should consider yourself lucky. Erwin turned his head to regard the man, his enthrallment fleetingly disturbed. The duke's mouth opened slightly at first, produced no words. After a moment, though, Erwin blinked twice and pressed his lips back together hard. With an almost ruminative nod, part agreement and part simple acknowledgement, his gaze turned back to the remarkable display of power unfolding before them.
And then suddenly, the entire heap of accumulated stone and clay gave one final, tortured groan before giving way. Erwin's heart leapt up his chest at the sound, his reverie dissolving away in an instant. Without conscious thought, he lurched forward toward Olive even as the jagged slab of rock crashed down, narrowly missing her thin frame. "CONSTANCE!"
The deluge of mud flooded outward from where the haphazard pile previously had stood, and it took all his balance to remain upright as it flowed around his legs and filled the clearing. It was another six bounding steps through the squishing, sucking mud before he finally reached her fallen form, dropping down onto his knees in the mud next to Olive. His hand found a tight grip on her shoulder, and he peered down at her earnestly. Where moments earlier his face had been consumed in fury, now it was replaced with an expression flickering with trepidation, but also filled with concern. All of the color had drained from Olive's face, and he could see her chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. But Erwin could see that she was unharmed. He remained there for a long moment, gaze locked onto hers, only faintly perceiving his own rapid heartbeat and quickened breath from all the excitement. Frightened. Awed. Relieved.
Then, almost instinctively, his face hardened once more with steely resolve, and he climbed back up to his feet. Slowly, and with several glances back over his shoulder at Olive, Erwin trudged through the lake of stone and rock toward the narrow opening into the cavern that had materialized. The heap of remaining stones were slick with mud, and climbing up the pile proved to be more difficult than anticipated, as on more than one occasion Erwin almost lost his footing to a loose rock. Eventually, though, he managed to scramble up to the opening.
The sky was mercifully cloudless this night, allowing the moon's gleam to shine a shaft of light into the dust-filled hole. Erwin could make out several huddled forms, but in the light he could not tell just how many were trapped down here. The one closest by, whose eyes had flashed briefly in the light, looked to be a woman in her fifties, but her ragged clothing was caked in mud and dirt, and her gaunt, malnourished face made it impossible to discern more. No matter though. With one hand gripping tightly onto a loaf-shaped rock to keep himself steady, he reached down toward her. "Take my hand," he uttered.
The woman let out almost a cry of anguished relief, but then immediately froze. As her blinking eyes slowly adjusted to the light, the blurred silhouette of the man on the other side of the hole came into focus – a man too well-groomed to be anyone associated with their party, and whose finery was a far cry from their own tattered threads.
And he had a sword at his side.
Trembling, the woman recoiled repulsively from Erwin's hand and nearly tumbled backwards back into the cave, sending pebbles bouncing into the darkness. With another cry, she scrambled back toward the huddled mass of bodies and let out a loud wail. "Soldier! Soldier!" As if on cue, a cacophony of moans and shrieks began to fill the cave.
Erwin froze as well, stunned at the unexpected reaction, hand still outstretched. He could feel the rock and mud underneath his weight starting to shift and wobble, though, and with a clenched jaw, he repeated more forcefully, "Take my hand, quick." When none of the shadowed people came forward, he gave his hand a shake and added, "I'm not here to harm you, I'm here to help."
And after a few seconds of inaction, a different figure crept forward out of the darkness. The quivering boy couldn't have seen more than twelve summers, and his dirty blonde hair was matted down with blood. The child's eyes betrayed his deep fear and mistrust, but also desperation. The boy reached up with a dangerously thin arm, just far enough for the duke to grasp his wrist. Erwin was almost surprised by how little he weighed, as he practically yanked the youth off his feet and hauled him out of the cave.
Seeing that one of them had escaped their stone coffin, the rest of the trapped bodies began surging forward, some limping, others coughing. Erwin reached back down the hole again even as he turned over his shoulder and gave Silas a silent, almost demanding look, gesturing with his head for the mage to come help him.
Even though Silas was stood right next to him, the man's terse voice was but a distant call compared to the sounds of crackling ice and grinding rock. You should consider yourself lucky. Erwin turned his head to regard the man, his enthrallment fleetingly disturbed. The duke's mouth opened slightly at first, produced no words. After a moment, though, Erwin blinked twice and pressed his lips back together hard. With an almost ruminative nod, part agreement and part simple acknowledgement, his gaze turned back to the remarkable display of power unfolding before them.
And then suddenly, the entire heap of accumulated stone and clay gave one final, tortured groan before giving way. Erwin's heart leapt up his chest at the sound, his reverie dissolving away in an instant. Without conscious thought, he lurched forward toward Olive even as the jagged slab of rock crashed down, narrowly missing her thin frame. "CONSTANCE!"
The deluge of mud flooded outward from where the haphazard pile previously had stood, and it took all his balance to remain upright as it flowed around his legs and filled the clearing. It was another six bounding steps through the squishing, sucking mud before he finally reached her fallen form, dropping down onto his knees in the mud next to Olive. His hand found a tight grip on her shoulder, and he peered down at her earnestly. Where moments earlier his face had been consumed in fury, now it was replaced with an expression flickering with trepidation, but also filled with concern. All of the color had drained from Olive's face, and he could see her chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. But Erwin could see that she was unharmed. He remained there for a long moment, gaze locked onto hers, only faintly perceiving his own rapid heartbeat and quickened breath from all the excitement. Frightened. Awed. Relieved.
Then, almost instinctively, his face hardened once more with steely resolve, and he climbed back up to his feet. Slowly, and with several glances back over his shoulder at Olive, Erwin trudged through the lake of stone and rock toward the narrow opening into the cavern that had materialized. The heap of remaining stones were slick with mud, and climbing up the pile proved to be more difficult than anticipated, as on more than one occasion Erwin almost lost his footing to a loose rock. Eventually, though, he managed to scramble up to the opening.
The sky was mercifully cloudless this night, allowing the moon's gleam to shine a shaft of light into the dust-filled hole. Erwin could make out several huddled forms, but in the light he could not tell just how many were trapped down here. The one closest by, whose eyes had flashed briefly in the light, looked to be a woman in her fifties, but her ragged clothing was caked in mud and dirt, and her gaunt, malnourished face made it impossible to discern more. No matter though. With one hand gripping tightly onto a loaf-shaped rock to keep himself steady, he reached down toward her. "Take my hand," he uttered.
The woman let out almost a cry of anguished relief, but then immediately froze. As her blinking eyes slowly adjusted to the light, the blurred silhouette of the man on the other side of the hole came into focus – a man too well-groomed to be anyone associated with their party, and whose finery was a far cry from their own tattered threads.
And he had a sword at his side.
Trembling, the woman recoiled repulsively from Erwin's hand and nearly tumbled backwards back into the cave, sending pebbles bouncing into the darkness. With another cry, she scrambled back toward the huddled mass of bodies and let out a loud wail. "Soldier! Soldier!" As if on cue, a cacophony of moans and shrieks began to fill the cave.
Erwin froze as well, stunned at the unexpected reaction, hand still outstretched. He could feel the rock and mud underneath his weight starting to shift and wobble, though, and with a clenched jaw, he repeated more forcefully, "Take my hand, quick." When none of the shadowed people came forward, he gave his hand a shake and added, "I'm not here to harm you, I'm here to help."
And after a few seconds of inaction, a different figure crept forward out of the darkness. The quivering boy couldn't have seen more than twelve summers, and his dirty blonde hair was matted down with blood. The child's eyes betrayed his deep fear and mistrust, but also desperation. The boy reached up with a dangerously thin arm, just far enough for the duke to grasp his wrist. Erwin was almost surprised by how little he weighed, as he practically yanked the youth off his feet and hauled him out of the cave.
Seeing that one of them had escaped their stone coffin, the rest of the trapped bodies began surging forward, some limping, others coughing. Erwin reached back down the hole again even as he turned over his shoulder and gave Silas a silent, almost demanding look, gesturing with his head for the mage to come help him.