Spoiler Tags:
MF, Straight Sex, Goddess, Explorer, Short Story, Magic, Fantasy
Hefting my pack onto my back, I cleaned up the remains of my breakfast and doused the small fire I'd used. Clutching at the amulet of my faith, I whispered a small prayer to my goddess, an appellation for guidance and fortune. An archeologist by trade, I'd been mapping out a series of temples left by the Ancients, noting their relative positioning. In doing so, I realized that there was a gap within the Silparthan Steppes. Taking my discovery to my patron and friend, I'd quickly secured funding for a solo expedition to put my theory to the test. What I'd found had outshone my wildest expectations. Here was a nearly pristine temple, preserved by the combination of high altitude, harsh environment, and limited fauna.
My excitement had outweighed my caution and I'd ventured forth into the temple. Three days, one observation filled notebook, various charcoal sketches, and the majority of my rations later, and I felt I was nearing the core of the temple. The silence of the stone hallways was only broken by the distant howling of the wind and a faint sound of some as yet unseen underground river.
"Regardless, this is my last chance to find something to define my legacy," I said to the empty hallway. I'd acquired the bad habit of speaking to myself, a product of long hours of solitude pouring over musty tomes or puzzling over the meaning this or that nicknack. Stomping my feet firmly onto the ground, I twisted the ring on my finger, activating the latent magic to produce a dim beam of light that did a fair job of illuminating the stone corridor. Holding my fist up chest high, I set off down the labyrinthine sprawl that led ever downward.
I made it ten steps.
The stone beneath my feet crumbled away, leaving me to whatever cruel fate gravity felt like dealing me. A clamor of noise accompanied the fall, the heavy blocks smashing against the ground and each other. At the end of it all, I found myself unscathed but for a smattering of bumps and scrapes.
"Blessings upon me by the God of Luck, for surely has he shone his light on me today." My voice echoed loudly in the cavern within which I found myself. The entrance created by the collapsed floor had filled in with rubble, leaving me separated from the path I'd taken into the ruins. The light from my ring was heavily obscured by the dust, significantly reducing my visibility. My heart beat heavily within my chest as I tried to remain calm despite the burgeoning realization that the odds spoke to the likelihood that I would die in this place.
Logic is your friend. Logic is your friend. Logic is- What the hell is that?
In my exploration, I found a gigantic chain of shimmery red metal that the Ancients favored for their weaponry. Following the taut length led me to a thick anchor on an otherwise plain wall.
What in the four hells
is
this place?
Heading the other direction, downward along the slope of the chain, led to something much more...
interesting
than a featureless wall.
The chain was attached to a shackle that encircled the pale blue-skinned wrist of a kneeling woman. I blinked with surprise. She was as motionless as carved marble, her limbs spread wide. My light darted up to illuminate her face.
The first thing that caught my attention was the curved silver plate that covered her mouth and gagged her, extending back behind her head. A head which was covered in gossamer white locks so pure they seemed to capture the motes from my ring and emit them in a rainbow glow. Her figure was well-muscled, like those of a fieldworker, and indicated a life filled with heavy physical labor. Kneeling, her sex was obscured but her firm round breasts allowed me to make certain assumptions. The proportions were slightly different than an average humans, larger and more solid in some manner.
Wider shoulders? Or perhaps it is the length of her legs? It's hard to tell with their positioning.
Whatever it was, my instincts were telling me that whatever this statue was showing, it wasn't exactly human. Unnerved and excited in equal measures by the thought, I eagerly resumed my dissection of the undeniably tremendous work of art. Continuing to her backside, she had the normal number of toes, partially obscured by sweeping curls of her hair. The color of her skin was another indicator that she wasn't human, a delicate blue hue to it. It also looked impossibly soft, considering the tautness of her prominent muscles. My fingers itched to touch it, but some unknown force prevented me. Perhaps it was appreciation for the artist, or maybe it was respect for the statue itself, which I couldn't help but increasingly think of as a woman that demanded respect.
In my analysis, I'd done a slow circle around her figure, taking in every aspect of her appearance.
"Exquisite," I whispered with wonder. My voice surprisingly loud in the chamber. I brought my light back up to her face and I began to notice a small detail that'd so far eluded my attention.
Is that...?
I crept closer, watching her eyes. With glacial slowness, almost beyond that of human perception, her brilliant blue irises
moved.
Rotating along the same path I'd traveled, they continued until they met my eyes and stopped.
Looking directly at me.
I stumbled back, shocked and a little unnerved by what I saw there. Breathing heavily, the scientist in me began to ask questions:
Why was she imprisoned?
How is she still alive?
What is she?
Has she been here this entire time?
What could she teach me?
The man in me readjusted my pants, suddenly uncomfortable with an unusual tightness that'd come from examining the lovely female form combined with weeks of lacking companionship of any kind.
Shaking off my arousal and thoughts of the woman's predicament, I focused on my own. A discovery of this magnitude wouldn't do me any good if I died finding it. Pointing my ring back towards the wall, I ran it up and down in a careful search for a way out of this prison.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whatever...
Whoever
you are, someone went to a great deal of trouble hiding your existence." I sank down onto a piece of rubble. My hand scratched at the fuzz on my chin looking over her from a safe distance. In my exploring, I'd discovered the source of the sound of water as well as the cause of my unfortunate fall. Sometime over the centuries of the temple's abandonment, an underground river had cut through the stone of the floor, eroding the foundations. It trickled down the wall and over one of the anchors that was connected to the metal chain that held her arms out wide. Exquisite craftsmanship met the timeless patience of nature and lost. Half the stone material of the anchor was gone, worn away by time particle by particle.
Thus, I was left with a conundrum.
"What am I to do? You were obviously placed here for some reason by a society I respect and have studied for the majority of my life. What that reason is...? I have no idea. Normally, I wouldn't give a second thought about leaving you to those who have more knowledge about how to deal with you. But, faced with my own mortality, I find the thought of potential salvation of your release intriguing." I sighed and let my head fall back to look up at the darkness that concealed the ceiling. "You are potentially calamitous.
Probably
calamitous," I amended. "I've never seen a cage designed such as this. A veritable work of art." I ran my hand along the metal chain. She didn't move, didn't react in any way. If it wasn't for the now obvious motion of her irises, I would think her a statue, and her figure the work of a master craftsman. The decision was left to me and me alone. I knelt in front of her matching her pose but for my folding my hands in my lap. Closing my eyes, I prayed.
Centering myself, I reached into the universe for guidance.
And...
Against all odds...
It answered.
The pile of rubble rumbled as one of the lower, more unstable blocks shifted, revealing a still ancient magelight that'd been reactivated in the fall. It was dim, and barely functional. But the beam of light cut through the still dusty air, illuminating the water-worn chain anchor.
Not one to argue with fate,
or impending oxygen deprivation,
I let my determination set me into motion. Ripping a long strip of fabric off my pants, I wrapped my hands and grabbed the sturdiest piece of rubble I could comfortably manage. Holding it to my chest, I waddled over to the anchor. Hoisting the piece above my head, I almost fumbled it for a moment before catching myself. Then I slammed the chunk of stone down as hard as I could. There was no visible mark, no reaction. Sighing, I bent over to pick up the rock.
Lifting it up, I slammed it down again.
And again.
And again.
I slammed that rock onto the anchor until that crude hammer crumbled into dust. So I got a new one and continued slamming it down. I slammed that rock until my hands bled and my muscles screamed in terrible protest.
But still, I continued.
I had no other choice. My survival was on the line.
So I slammed.
And I smashed.
And I bled.
And I suffered.
