Nail - A Short Story by Kell Inkston Page A

up and down
in a moment of childish fascination before he takes to the ladder
leading down into the dark.
    A full minute of climbing down in
perfect silence, in perfect darkness, follows; he bates his breath
and readies himself for anything. He hits the bottom of the ladder
with a tap of his boot and shifts onto what feels like a wooden
walkway. He reaches into his bag again, takes out his lantern and
lights it. In a flash, he illuminates three dirty, muscular men
surrounding him from all sides. Ralic starts; in each of their
hands is a strange combination of wood and metal which he doesn’t
quite care to inspect at the moment.
    “ H-hello! I’m Ralic the
Fifteenth, from Qetaine!”
    The man to his right, a red-bearded
giant of a person, seizes his arm alongside along the other two as
he gives a loud scoff. “That is a likely story, spirit. We’ll just
see what the elder has to say about you.”
    Ralic grunts, holding fast as he shakes
off the grip of one of the men. He dances his fingers upon his
sword’s hilt. “Gentlemen, I don’t mean you harm. I’ve merely come
from another town to inspect-”
    “ That reveals you right
there,” the great man says, pointing his strange wooden and metal
device right at Ralic and forcing him, for the first time, to take
a deeper notice of it. “There are no other towns outside; you could
only be a spirit.”
    “ No, sir! I’m not some
spirit, I’ve come here to understa-” Ralic’s cut off again as he,
with the help of one of the men, finally inspects one of the devices so closely
that it produces a large lump on his head and knocks him out. The
last moments of sight are of the trio picking him up and taking him
down somewhere in the black tunnel. His vision fades to black the
same moment his lantern’s flame does.

Chapter 2
    Ralic awakens in a warmly-lit, though
cool, room; a woman sits in a chair patiently beside
him.
    “ You’re awake, I see,” the
grey-haired lady says as she starts serving soup into a bowl from a
strange fire-creating device next to her.
    Finding himself unrestrained, Ralic
sits up and takes the bowl; he quickly notices that his armor,
sword, and gear have been removed. “I suppose I am.” He takes a
full sip from the bowl. It’s bland, just like the soup from home,
but filling. “So… my name is Ralic the Fifteenth.”
    She smiles.
“ I’m sure ,” she
says in a way that he can easily parse the sarcasm from.
    “ I’m from the town of
Qetaine. I’ve been sent on a quest to investigate a weird walled
area. I’m inside those walls now, underground—aren't I?”
    She raises a brow. “You certainly are
underground within the safety of the walls, demon.”
    Ralic takes another sip. “I guess I
won’t be able to persuade you that I am otherwise… Regardless, tell
me about this place if you will have nothing else. Are you the
elder?”
    She scoffs sweetly. “No, I’m just the
caretaker. Apparently the tunnel-guards were a little rough with
you when they dragged you to the village so they could be sure you
wouldn’t escape.”
    Ralic hums as he eyes around the small
wooden room, particularly the small window next to the door with
curious aged faces peering in. “Well if you’re not the elder, then
who is? Won’t I meet this person?” He takes another sip as the old
lady nods.
    “ You will soon enough. The
elder does not enjoy the village the same way we do. He spends his
time out in the deeper caverns and only returns once a day to check
up on us.”
    He squints in thought; this
Ralic is a more perceptive lad than The Twelfth.
“ Oh ? Is this elder…
a human?”
    A couple snickers come from the window
as the old lady sighs. “Of course he is! He guides us with an
unerring hand in our protection of the ancient secrets.”
    “… Like?”
    She closes her eyes and bows
her head slightly. “ That’s a secret, young spirit.”
    Ralic shrugs, crosses a leg,
and takes another deep drink from his bowl. “Alright. Then am I
just to