flung it to the floor. Lightbugs
flittered about her, dancing to their own silent song. Their yellow bodies
looked magnificent as they stood out against the red glow from the moon. She
frowned as something inside her mind clicked. She was missing something.
She
looked at the Lightbugs again; they buzzed excitedly in their swarms. All of a
sudden it came to her. It wasn’t the Lightbugs that caused her mind to tick,
but the glow from the moon. The stranger had told her the Chamber was located
where the light touched the water. If there was a spot in the Marshes where all
the rays of the moons penetrated the trees, then maybe that was where the Chamber
was.
Energized
by the possibility of this revelation, she set off, the tiredness in her legs
forgotten. At one point she thought she had found the spot she was looking for.
There was a small mound and the light from all three moons penetrated the
surface. However, after searching the entire area twice, she realised the light
only fell on the mound due to a fallen tree.
Disheartened,
she proceeded on. It was not long before she came across what she was looking
for. There was a small clearing in the trees, where the light from all three
moons reached the mound’s surface. At first glance the clearing looked like any
other mound she had come across: the reeds sprung out of the ground
sporadically; a dead tree trunk lay across the water that surrounded the
incline and a film of algae lay across the surface of the water.
As she got closer
to the mound, she could see that the water surrounding it was clearer. The film
of algae was in actual fact the reflection of the green
moon. About half a foot underneath the surface, Marybeth could see a
cobblestone surface forming a circle about four feet in diameter. Her heart
raced; this must be the entrance.
She
tried stepping on the submerged surface but instantly slipped and landed on her
rear instead. Once again she found her legs caked in mud and cold water. The
cobblestones were slick with moss and algae making for a treacherous platform.
Frustrated, she felt around the circumference of the concrete circle but
touched only smooth stone. Puzzled, she straightened. There must be something
to trigger an opening.
She
found it eventually within the fallen tree trunk when she happened to catch a
glimmer of metal reflecting the moons. She thrust her hand in and felt a metal
lever covered in the slimy deposit of the swamp. One yank of the lever and the
water around the slab drained away as the stone rose out of the water in a
column. It stopped after climbing a few feet to resemble a well.
Her
heart pounded. Up until now, she had not fully believed that the Chamber of
Scrolls could have existed. The face-changing man, had been convincing, but
anyone could be convincing. She had travelled to the Marshes wanting to believe
in the Chamber’s existence but deep down she had still been sceptical. As the
slab across the surface divided up into segments, each one lowering deeper than
the next, to form a spiral staircase, she allowed herself to truly believe.
Stone
grated on stone and a deep rumbling could be heard underground amongst the
burping and gurgling of the swamp. Finally the noise stopped and only one small
triangular segment remained where the slab had been. She hoisted herself up on
the circular stone wall and taking her lantern, sword and staff, descended the
stairs into the depths of the swamp.
At the bottom of
the stairs, Marybeth found herself in a narrow stone
corridor that curved off to the right. Water dripped from the low ceiling
falling on old established puddles. Each drop echoed in the silence. The
darkness in the corridor was thick, almost oppressive.
A frisson ran
down her spine. She stood at the entrance of an ancient place. A Chamber that
no one had found in hundreds of years. So many years, in fact, that it was
considered a fairy story. A myth that young children could invent imaginary
games for. She remembered
flittered about her, dancing to their own silent song. Their yellow bodies
looked magnificent as they stood out against the red glow from the moon. She
frowned as something inside her mind clicked. She was missing something.
She
looked at the Lightbugs again; they buzzed excitedly in their swarms. All of a
sudden it came to her. It wasn’t the Lightbugs that caused her mind to tick,
but the glow from the moon. The stranger had told her the Chamber was located
where the light touched the water. If there was a spot in the Marshes where all
the rays of the moons penetrated the trees, then maybe that was where the Chamber
was.
Energized
by the possibility of this revelation, she set off, the tiredness in her legs
forgotten. At one point she thought she had found the spot she was looking for.
There was a small mound and the light from all three moons penetrated the
surface. However, after searching the entire area twice, she realised the light
only fell on the mound due to a fallen tree.
Disheartened,
she proceeded on. It was not long before she came across what she was looking
for. There was a small clearing in the trees, where the light from all three
moons reached the mound’s surface. At first glance the clearing looked like any
other mound she had come across: the reeds sprung out of the ground
sporadically; a dead tree trunk lay across the water that surrounded the
incline and a film of algae lay across the surface of the water.
As she got closer
to the mound, she could see that the water surrounding it was clearer. The film
of algae was in actual fact the reflection of the green
moon. About half a foot underneath the surface, Marybeth could see a
cobblestone surface forming a circle about four feet in diameter. Her heart
raced; this must be the entrance.
She
tried stepping on the submerged surface but instantly slipped and landed on her
rear instead. Once again she found her legs caked in mud and cold water. The
cobblestones were slick with moss and algae making for a treacherous platform.
Frustrated, she felt around the circumference of the concrete circle but
touched only smooth stone. Puzzled, she straightened. There must be something
to trigger an opening.
She
found it eventually within the fallen tree trunk when she happened to catch a
glimmer of metal reflecting the moons. She thrust her hand in and felt a metal
lever covered in the slimy deposit of the swamp. One yank of the lever and the
water around the slab drained away as the stone rose out of the water in a
column. It stopped after climbing a few feet to resemble a well.
Her
heart pounded. Up until now, she had not fully believed that the Chamber of
Scrolls could have existed. The face-changing man, had been convincing, but
anyone could be convincing. She had travelled to the Marshes wanting to believe
in the Chamber’s existence but deep down she had still been sceptical. As the
slab across the surface divided up into segments, each one lowering deeper than
the next, to form a spiral staircase, she allowed herself to truly believe.
Stone
grated on stone and a deep rumbling could be heard underground amongst the
burping and gurgling of the swamp. Finally the noise stopped and only one small
triangular segment remained where the slab had been. She hoisted herself up on
the circular stone wall and taking her lantern, sword and staff, descended the
stairs into the depths of the swamp.
At the bottom of
the stairs, Marybeth found herself in a narrow stone
corridor that curved off to the right. Water dripped from the low ceiling
falling on old established puddles. Each drop echoed in the silence. The
darkness in the corridor was thick, almost oppressive.
A frisson ran
down her spine. She stood at the entrance of an ancient place. A Chamber that
no one had found in hundreds of years. So many years, in fact, that it was
considered a fairy story. A myth that young children could invent imaginary
games for. She remembered
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