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Hey guys, the first (and shorter) split of what was originally chapter 8. More to follow.
Fair warning, this chapter has pseudo-incest themes again.
Thanks to Lunarlilith for editing.
Enjoy.
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Chris' muscles heaved, beads of sweat dislodging, combining, and running down his bare skin. A salty, miniature flash flood, gaining momentum before wicking into the already moist waist of his tatty old jeans. With bestial strength, he hoisted the sturdy canvas sack of crushed rock off the heavy-duty trolley onto his shoulder with a dry rustle. He turned ponderously and looked toward the pre-fab concrete stairs.
Pausing to steady his breathing and his thoughts, he concentrated on the huge sack on his shoulder and mass of stone within. He reached inward, embracing his element, his magic and dragged his load with him. With a tiny flicker, he vanished from the physical plane and began trudging up the stairs.
Usually murky and barren, the Ether landscape before him was instead a stairwell overgrown with jungle-like verdant growth. Carrying a quarter ton of crushed rock up several flights of stairs was much easier for him in the Ether. Here, the physical effort it would cost him in the Norm was attenuated by his own magic, making the gruelling work much faster and less physically exhausting. The result, however, was that he bled energy into the surrounding ether. Within days, the first opportunistic leafy, alien growths were sprouting out of ghostly rock walls and insubstantial concrete.
Now days he gave them, and the more active Ether inhabitants that followed them to this new oasis of magic, little notice. Every time he made that long, double-backing journey up the multiple-landing stairwell, he cursed himself for agreeing that they dig a full two stories below the surface. Why, oh why, had he ever thought an underground house was a good idea?
Every time he complained, Stephen assured him it had been an excellent decision. The werebison would remind him that the rock was more stable down there. It would provide extra disincentive for anyone to blast or dig their way down. Still, in times like this, toward the end of an exhausting day, Chris questioned the sanity of this entire endeavour on a minute by minute basis.
When he finally reached the top, he merged back. His breath came heavily and more sweat trickled down his back. The free-flowing air of the warehouse floor was blessedly dust-free and cool, soothing his bellowing lungs. He wasted no time dumping the big sack onto the waiting pallet. That made a full load of four.
Straightening his massive body, Chris reached high above his head to stretch the aches from his tired muscles and let his breathing settle.
His bared chest, arms and abdomen were streaked with dirt, dust, and even a couple of trails of dried blood. He found that the scrapes and scratches he suffered lugging the sacks of crushed rock out of the dig were better than paying for the replacement shirts. Three had been ruined in the first week of work and he gave up after that. Even whilst destroying his clothing, he had collected scrapes anyway.
It was almost time to go home, just a few more loads.
With a heavy sigh, he slid into the seat of the waiting electric forklift, hoisted the pallet, and piloted the quiet mechanical workhorse out of the warehouse to the growing mound at the back of the yard. His seemingly endless work had once again swelled the pile of rubble as if by magic. It was a good thing the truck would be coming in for a pickup soon, he'd made substantial progress since it was here last.
If he really put his back into the work, like he had today, he could haul a bit over three truckloads worth of the shit out of the depths by the end of the day.
He'd been helping every day he could for over two months now and the romance of building his own house was well and truly gone.
With practiced, efficient movements, he unsealed, upended, and emptied the sacks one by one. The crushed rock made a dry rattle as it settled, a sound so familiar now that it had intruded into his dreams on more than one occasion.
A few endeavouring rocks bounced away from the pile, colliding with the parked bucket-loader's great tyres. Stephen had hired the big earthmoving machine to load the trucks that came to collect the rock for a local landscaping supplier. Chris had had a chance to drive the thing briefly, but the articulated steering system was a challenge to master and the task of loading a truck was far out of his comfort zone. He only wished the loader could somehow be driven down below, cutting out the need for all his backbreaking work.
As if on autopilot, he found himself back inside the warehouse, descending the wide stairwell with his empty sacks. At the bottom, he collected his trolley. He trundled back through the ominous portal into the solid rock, down the short, wide hallway which would soon be a high security entrance.
Lillian had had her input there, insisting on a multi-door airlock-like system which would soon be getting installed.
He donned his constricting breathing mask, which helped to filter out the rock dust that was always heavy in the air when they were working.
Beyond, the passage widened into a space that would be a modest foyer. In the dim light, the bare rock walls looked unnaturally smooth. No drilling tool or jackhammer score marks, just smooth, geometrically perfect rock.
As the entrance way ended, the huge, barren kitchen space that had literally been carved from the rock was directly to his right. It had naturally been one of the first spaces they'd excavated. He could see into the murky space over the top of a low wall of stone that had been left behind to eventually form one of the large benchtop areas.
At least you can see the rooms taking shape now
, he thought. A month ago, it had been difficult to see that they were making any real progress at all.
Stephen insisted that they cut the rooms directly into the rock, leaving behind as many features, walls, and columns as possible in the original stone. It would save them time, work, and money when it came to finishing the house, not having to build as many internal structures. Chris had to agree, with the added benefit of less rock to cart up and out of his future home.
To the left, the open plan living and dining room stretched out in a huge rectangle. The long side formed the outside edge of the structure, only one dark portal leading to a modest study. It was by far the largest space in the building plans, taking two whole weeks to hollow out.
That had been after Chris had bit the bullet and asked Stephen to hire help. The three-strong goblin crew Stephen found had been more than happy to assist with cutting and crushing the rock for a reasonable price. From the sounds reaching him, they were hard at work right now.
Construction lights provided harsh illumination but were only ever placed where they were working or in the walkways. This meant some areas were very well lit while others oozed a complete darkness that would put any moonless night to shame. The first time Chris had experienced the encompassing blackness of being underground, he'd been very unnerved. Now he knew the rooms and passageways so well he liked to think that should the power go out, he wouldn't even bump into anything.
He pulled the trolley down the familiar, dusty trail, across the reddish-brown sandstone floor, past the kitchen and thick support column marking half way in the living room. To his right, he marked off the dark, open doorways to pitch black rooms as he passed them. Laundry, storage room, and finally the large bathroom as the living room ended.
On the wall to his left, they would soon be excavating his own master bedroom but that was to be the last of the rooms they dug out. The junction of living room, bathroom, and his future bedroom was a four by four meter square. However, it's position and alignment with the rest of the rooms made him think of it as a diamond.
It was a strange feature but one of Chris' favourite parts of the design. The bottom corner of the diamond, where he now stood, was open to the living room. The wall to his right was also the bathroom's wall, the wall to his left would be one of the walls of his bedroom. The top of the diamond was also open, leading to two hallways which stretched off at right angles to each other but parallel to the rest of the squared walls in the house.
You would walk through the middle of the diamond to access the hallways. On either side as you walked was a triangle shaped space which Chris planned to use for housing bookshelves or something like that.
Inlaid in the floor, dead centre of the diamond was a burnished ring of stainless steel, roughly one metre in diameter and about an inch thick. Inside the circle, one pointing at each of the compass points, were four polished amethysts. This arrangement, apart from being visually appealing, was the magical heart of the structure. It was protected by a thick cover-sheet of enhanced glass which was magicked to resist scuffing and scratching.
Chris had already filled the modest gemstones to the brim with energy and Stephen had been tying his enchantments into them as their work progressed.
