The Door

Short story fantasy

The Door 

Orin shrugged off and dropped his City Guard issued pack onto the dry rotted porch.  He looked around with a neutral gaze at what was once a fine wooden house.  Vines had grown over its face, and it had fallen somewhat into disrepair, but the ghosts of better days still lingered.  “Is this the place?” Nob called from his perch on the mule that had hauled all of his and Orin’s belongings from their lodgings in the City.  “This is the place” muttered Orin.

 

           ******************************

 

            Like all young men in his country, at 17, Orin had reported for his mandatory 10-year term in the City Guard.  Unlike most, he was happy to.  He rose quickly through the ranks in a system where competence and intelligence were rewarded, in contrast to the life he had known at home.  His mother and father were impossible to please.  For self-preservation, Orin spent as much time as he could away from home, wandering further and further afield as his experience and confidence grew.  He knew all of the animals and trees, and would even secretly Name them as his friends, though he never told anyone.  Names were reserved for people, the Elders said, because people were Masters.  Orin certainly didn’t feel like a Master.

  When the time came, he couldn’t pack for the City (and perceived freedom) fast enough.  It wasn’t always easy, but there, he was his own man.  When 10 years had passed, against his Father’s wishes, he reenlisted for 10 more.  At the time of his reenlistment, he had achieved a rank that rated a personal aide.  He was assigned a young man from the same region of the country as he was, a Halfer (5 years into his required time), named Nob.  Nob was somewhat shy, but capable and good natured, and the two quickly became inseparable.  Orin may actually have achieved an even higher level of respect within the Guard because Nob had a natural caution that Orin lacked, and he rubbed off on his boss.  Sometimes.

One day, after two years had passed since his reenlistment, Orin was sitting outside the Guardhouse sharpening his sword when a shadow over his shoulder dimmed the light of the noon sun.  “What do you have for me Nob?”  Orin said, pausing in his task and holding up his open palm to receive whatever it was.  “A summons, man!” said Nob, dropping the roll of parchment into Orin’s hand.  “The Captain of the Guard requests your presence,” he finished in a mockingly pious tone.  “Oh, good” Orin replied, “Maybe they are going to give me that new aide I’ve been asking for.  Mine has this horrible smell.”

Orin and Nob climbed the stone stairs to the Keep, and were admitted through the large iron doors.  Inside, the atmosphere was oppressive.  The windows were high up, and too small, and the smoke from the fires and the tobacco pipes never really found its way out.  A handful of horses were tied in a makeshift stable to serve the errand riders.  Orin touched their noses in greeting as he passed.  Captain Reeg was sitting at the Officers’ table, sloppily devouring a roast pheasant.  Nob elbowed Orin and whispered, “Think he’ll offer to share?”  Orin kicked him.  When the Captain saw their approach he rose, and wiped his hands and face on a cloth proffered by a silent woman standing next to the table.  “Orin!” he bellowed, “and of course Nob.”  “Lord Captain,” Orin started. “No no no, none of that today,” said Reeg, “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you my boy, and maybe for me too.”  Orin gave Nob a puzzled look, and got a shrug in return.  “I’m sorry to have to tell you,” the Captain continued, “that word has come to us that your parents, Orin, have both taken ill, and died.  As their sole heir, the Law says I can release you from your remaining service and you may go home to do as you will.  Now I understand if you need some time to…” Orin gave a barking laugh.  “Time, sir?  What time?  I have failed my mother and my father for 29 years, what is 8 more?  The house will keep.  I’m not leaving.”  Captain Reeg looked momentarily surprised, then clapped his hands and said, “Excellent then!  Well, I can’t say I’m sorry to not have to lose you after all.  Carry on with you both.”  He turned his back on them and returned to his pheasant.  Orin and Nob returned slowly to the Guardhouse.  Orin wasn’t talking, and Nob didn’t ask.

 

                                    ******************************

 

The inside of the house turned out to be in better shape than the outside would have indicated.  Orin and Nob cleared out the dust and the refuse of years that had collected through the broken windows.  In what was to be his room, Orin had to negotiate with a family of racoons that were not interested in selling.  He eventually lured them out with a trail of food and just one minor scratch.  He came back downstairs to find Nob wrestling with a tree root that had grown into the back of the stove.  “I thought you liked your meat hickory smoked?” Orin unhelpfully offered.  “This root isn’t hickory, and that isn’t funny, and I’m hungry” came Nobs muffled voice from inside the stove, “You fed the last of my rations to the racoons!”  Orin looked up at the fishing pole rack that hung over the back door to the garden and said, “Oh, I think we can fix that.”

 

           ******************************

           

When Orin’s second enlistment was set to expire, he began preparing to go home.  He was too old to reenlist, and if he didn’t reclaim his land now, his inheritance would be forfeited.  He didn’t want to contemplate life without rank or property.  Nob had reenlisted to stay with Orin, but had another Halfer to go on that commitment.  Orin had grown used to the comradery of his men, and Nob in particular.  That parting weighed heavily on his mind.  He hadn’t seen Nob in a few days, but when he did again, he would have to deal with that.  “Maybe I can have some say in who he is reassigned to” Orin thought out loud to no one in particular as he walked up the cobblestone streets toward the Keep to return his gear.  A man driving a mule and partially loaded wagon in the opposite direction stopped alongside him and called out “Can I be of any assistance my good man?”  Orin recognized the voice and looked up at Nob with an eyebrow cocked.  “What kind of assistance might that be?  Where have you been by the way?”  Nob's smile faded and he slid down from the mule.  He looked hard at Orin and said “Well, Orin, you see, as you are going home and my service to the Guard is not done, I thought, well, once Guard always Guard, right?  I spoke to Captain Reeg and asked if I might not serve out my term in service to you yet, and he gave it his blessing.  Even gave me the cart and the mule to help with the move!  I’m all packed if you are willing.”  Orin was stunned, and elated.  The thought of that empty house… “Nob, by the Elders, of course you are welcome.  I’m sure there will be plenty of work to go around anyhow.  Maybe I can even get that smell off of you in the River!”

****************************

 

Names were, by long tradition whose beginnings could now only be guessed at, reserved for people.  Capital things were the next best thing to being Named.  In the Country there were many rivers but only one River.  The same went for the Mountain and the City.  A city didn’t have the same standing as the City.  A capital thing was unnamed, but respected.  Orin’s lands had the good fortune of being close to where the River and the Mountain came together.  In his youthful wanderings he had inevitably been drawn time and time again to that place where his heart would dwell always.  He could almost feel the breeze coming from the Sea to the South, and cool of the quiet River, slowly carving away at the base of the Mountain while the Sun and Moon wheeled overhead.  He couldn’t wait to get back.

                                               

******************************

           

The fishing was as good as he remembered, and it wasn’t long before several were roasting over a campfire in the back yard.  “I found some glass in the basement, I’m sure I can fix the windows tomorrow” said Nob through a mouthful, “then maybe we can open up the barn and see what is in there?”  Orin looked across the overgrown garden at the barn that he had built himself shortly before leaving for the Guard.  A “nice first try” his father had called it, but it stood in better shape now than did the house Orin noted with some satisfaction.  “Sounds good Nob, while you do that, I will clean out the garden and inspect the rest of the grounds.”  Over the next several months, day by day, order returned to the property.  The garden was weeded, the orchards were pruned, the fishnets restrung.  Orin was finally able to delegate most of the day to day work to Nob.  He could finally relax.

          

******************************

 

            Orin stood in the middle of the River with his hands on his waist and surveyed his work.  He only had a few more feet to go and his river-rock dam would be finished.  The water wasn’t deep, maybe shin high.  It was also crystal clear, which helped him evaluate his available building material.  As the two ends of the dam began to meet in the middle from either bank, he had less room for error with their fit.  This particular bend of the River was nestled against the sheer sides of the Mountain, so plenty of rocks were available - dislodged from above by the torrential rains that came up from the Sea to the South.  He nudged a salamander with his bare foot out from under a good candidate.  “Move along you, I need this one,” he laughed. 

This wasn’t a purposeful dam, just his favorite leisure activity on a quiet summer day.  He got to be outdoors, challenge his mind, and had no one to answer to.  He was always looking to see how much water he could hold back.  His personal best was creating about a 6-inch difference in the water levels on either side of the stack.  This one was looking promising to beat that mark.  As his eyes scoured the riverbed, he thought he could still make out what was left of some of the dams he had built in this exact spot many years ago as a boy.  A small smirk crossed his face.  They were made with much smaller rocks.

The trees on the bank opposite the Mountain began to rustle.  Orin looked up and saw the birds circling and calling to one another as the first ragged row of clouds skirted across the sky.  He sighed, resignedly.  This was the rainy season after all, one had to read the signs. “The Sea has decided to visit us again,” he told the salamander.  The salamander didn’t reply.  Reluctant to leave, Orin placed a few more rocks and the opening closed until only a narrow spout of water remained to be plugged.  Darker clouds were now racing over-head and the wind was picking up.  “Oi!  Orin!”  He looked behind him and saw Nob, waving Orin’s shirt like a flag on the riverbank.  “There’s a real blower coming, looks bad!  You should come in and leave the poor River alone!”  Orin turned and gravely bowed to the salamander, “You win this round mate, Mom is calling.” then he slogged back through the water to shore. 

As he reached the bank, he heard a loud splash behind him.  Orin and Nob turned and saw what appeared to be a very old, panicked man struggling in the water.  “Be still my friend!  We’re coming!” Orin yelled.  “C’mon Nob!”  They waded as fast as they could back through the rocks in the stream towards the man.  When they reached him, Nob and Orin lifted him out of the current, and helped him back to the bank, and sat him down on a tree stump.  The man seemed to be dazed, but as he looked around him a sudden light shown in his eyes and with surprising speed he jumped up and would have ran off, had Nob not quickly grasped his arm.  “Sir!  What has happened, what is wrong?  Are you OK?” Nob said and shot a glance at Orin who was behind.  The man paused and looked at Nob as though seeing him for the first time and burst forth in loud, nonsensical, gibberish.  Nob sighed and said “Orin, let’s get him back to the house.”

The old man immediately went mute and rigid.  He very slowly turned a colorless face and wide sunken eyes at Orin.  His mouth fell open like he had taken an arrow to the heart, and indeed, in that moment, he died.  They laid him down gently and looked at one another.  Before either could speak, a brilliant crack of lightning not far off reminded them about the impending storm.  Yelling to Nob over the rising wind Orin pointed through the woods towards home.  “We better clear out, but we can’t leave him here Nob!  Let’s take him back to the house and we’ll bury him once the weather clears.”  Nob had brought the mule (Named Forlong in Orin’s mind, after a particular Guardsman) to collect Orin, so they laid the body across the mule’s back and headed home through the whipping branches.  They arrived back at Orin’s house just as the storm broke.  Nob laid the stranger in a spare bedroom, covered with a sheet.

 

******************************

 

There were many ways the people referred to the rainy season storms.  A “blower” was generally agreed to be the more severe variety.  More common were dampers.  Many families had their own words or running jokes they would use among themselves.  This storm was certainly “a real blower”.  In fact, it was probably the strongest storm that Orin could ever remember.  He had been through enough of them in his life that he was startled to find himself feeling a little afraid.  The wind was screaming, and the rain was pouring in sheets so thick he couldn’t see out of his windows.  He heard trees crashing down all around the house.  Luckily, he had just cleared them back far enough so that they weren’t any real danger. 

Finally, after 3 long days, the rain began to slow, and then stop.  The dark clouds continued to swirl overhead but the sky was visible again in the south and the threat had lifted.  Nob and Orin buried the old man in a nearby clearing.  He had been wearing tattered rags and what might have been the remains of a satchel.  He had nothing else by which they might identify him.  “I suppose I could go up to the City,” said Orin, “and see if anyone has reported him missing.”  The City was normally a six-day journey, but now it would be at least twice that thanks to all the fresh mud �" the only paved roads were in the City.  Orin decided it would be best to let the roads dry out before making the trip.  To take his mind off of the man (and the storm), he decided to go back to the River and see what was left of the dam he had nearly finished.

******************************

 

The damage from the storm grew ever worse as Orin approached the River.  Several of his favorite groves of trees had been entirely lost and a few large boulders from the Mountain had become new islands in the River.  His dam was nowhere to be seen in the swollen and now muddy River.  As he dejectedly surveyed the area, something caught his eye and he whistled.  In the rockface above the River, perfectly framed as if it had always been there, was a door.  “One of the boulders must have crashed into the mountainside as it fell, and exposed it?” Orin wondered aloud.  He stood for a long time in amazement.  Then a new thought grew and a devious grin spread across his face.  He ran back through the woods to the house, and when he had recovered both his breath and from the stitch in his side, he grabbed Nob who was gamely attempting to chase Orin’s bedroom racoons out of the barn. “Nob, you must come with me, right now, or else the racoons get your room!”

Orin impatiently led Nob, once again crashing through the trees until they again stood together in the gravelly sand nearby where they had pulled the old man out of the water.  Orin, panting for breath, for a long time, just pointed up at the cliffside.  Nob turned his back on the door, looked hard at his friend, and said “Orin man, we should go to the City and tell the Elders!  My family has lived in these lands shadowed by the Mountain for generations and I can guarantee you that there has never been a door into the side!”  Orin laughed, “Nob my friend where is your sense of adventure?  Why do we need yet to bother the Elders in their stuffy halls?  You and I should at least look inside first, then when the roads are passable, we can go to the City!  We’ll report both our missing friend and let them in on our little secret here.”

The door was in a difficult place to access.  It appeared to be in a slight depression cut into an otherwise vertical rock face, about 10 feet above the River.  Above the door was another 5 or 6 feet of rock before transitioning to the underbrush beneath the Mountain’s trees.  There was no way to hand climb, and it would be a long and arduous journey to go upstream far enough to where the cliffs were lower - and the more navigable slopes of the Mountain could be gained.  The cliffs ran tall and imposing on the East bank all the way downstream to the Sea, and nearly to the City upstream.  A day or so south of the city the River bends to the East and the land is more gentle.

Orin looked around at the fallen trees.  “Well, if we are going to make this attempt there is certainly enough wood around we might make a ladder,” he said.  “A huge ladder! How about a rope?  Also, this we business, you know I don’t like heights!” interrupted Nob.  Orin ignored him by talking louder “But, this is going to require some thought.  Nob, let us go back to the house and pack some provisions.  Then we are ready, too, if what is beyond the door is worth exploring.”  Nob, recognizing the look on Orin’s face as one that would not be dissuaded, mumbled what might have been agreement. 

 

******************************

 

While Orin packed food, Nob went back to the barn.  Keeping one eye out for those blasted racoons he dug through some of the storage bins until he found what he sought.  “Build a, what, 12-foot ladder?  Just like that?  That’s my Orin.” Nob thought.  He pulled out the garden tiller tool with 3 long bent metal prongs they used to soften up topsoil.  He bent the prongs slightly wider and then sawed off the handle a couple of inches below the metal.  He hammered a fat nail through and then back out.  He positively appraised the size of the hole, then ran a skinny rope through it.  He tightly knotted the rope, rolled it over his shoulder and went back towards the kitchen door.  “Here’s your ladder!” he called as he threw the rope to Orin, who was looking through a basket of apples.  “Nob, I do say that is a much better idea than I had.  Why didn’t you say something sooner?” said Orin as he dropped some apples in his Guard pack.  Nob took one of the apples and went back outside laughing.

 

******************************

 

They returned the next morning with Nob’s rope and backpacks loaded with food and water.  Orin’s first attempt at throwing their homemade grappling hook didn’t go so well.  It clanged off of the rock face a foot or so above the door, and splashed down in the water in front of them.  “Getting soft in your old age, eh Orin?  We active duty Guards can only imagine.” Nob said while innocently inspecting the clouds.  Orin was both amused “something I’d say” he thought, and annoyed, “Quiet and stand back!” he said.  The second effort landed in the brush above, but didn’t catch on anything and when it was pulled back it came skittering over the edge and again plunged into the water.  Now, Orin was getting properly angry - so his third throw cleared the top of the cliff by a wide margin.  A few tugs were enough to show that the hook had definitely caught on something.  Orin tested his weight against it by dangling next to the base of the rock face and the rope held firm.

“I’ll go first!” Orin declared in triumph.  “I never said I was going up at all” reminded Nob.  Orin leaned back and held the rope as he walked up the cliff.  He found the door was more recessed than it initially appeared and there was a small ledge sufficiently large for two to stand on.  “Nob come on up!” Orin called, tossing his end of the rope back down to Nob, “You should be with me when we try the door!”  Nob slowly, and with much muttering, joined Orin.  “Orin, the next time you find a secret door can it please be surrounded by spiders or something?  You hate spiders.”  Orin clapped him on the back as he reached the ledge.

The door was of plain, unadorned stone.  There were no markings on or around it, except for what might have been a faded sun in the center.  Since there was no evident knob or handle, Orin tentatively reached out and placed his hand near the center.  It was very smooth and cool, and at his touch it silently swung inward.  Expecting darkness, Orin and Nob were surprised to see crystal lights mounted on the walls, illuminating a stairway down into the depths of the Mountain.  “Orin, we shouldn’t do this” said Nob in a quiet voice.  Orin playfully shoved him, “Someone left the lights on for us Nob!  Let’s just see what is at the bottom of the stairs, then, I promise we’ll go home, and then to the City.”  They shouldered their packs and started their descent. 

 

******************************

 

They had only gone a few steps down before Nob paused, suddenly remembering some prudence through his fear.  “Orin, we should probably leave something in the door to prop it open.”  They turned back and saw with alarm that the door had closed as silently as it had opened.  Nob froze - and his face went white, “Orin, please tell me that we can get that thing open again.”  Orin, sounding more confident than he felt, replied “I could tell you that.  But without trying it wouldn’t mean much now would it?”  He reached out his hand again and pushed.  The door didn’t respond.  “Well it did open inwards” said Nob.  Orin looked closely at the door and its surrounding wall.  There was nothing to grasp or hold that would serve as a handle.  He tried prying the tightly sealed door towards him with his fingernails and only succeeded in breaking one of them, and grumbled something very unkind about an Elder’s mother.

As he sucked his finger, Orin said, “Well Nob, nothing for it now, might as well see what’s here and try to find another way out.”  They turned once again and started down the stairs.  It was a very long staircase, so long that they eventually lost sight entirely of the top.  At last, they reached the bottom, and an open archway led into a room beyond.  As they passed through the arch, they both gasped.  The room they now beheld was enormous.  The ceiling was so high above them it was only dimly visible.  The same crystal lights from the staircase kept their silent watch along the surrounding walls.  Large columns were spaced unevenly around the more-or-less rectangular hall.  It was also spotless.  No cobwebs, no dust, nothing.  Well, not nothing.  In the middle of the room they saw a banquet table. 

 

******************************

 

“Is anyone there?” Orin yelled.  His voice sounded small and muffled in the vast room.  There was no response.  “I don’t understand,” said Nob.  The table was set with golden dishes, crystal goblets, and a freshly prepared feast.  The plates were filled with steaming and delicious looking food.  “This table must have been laid while we were on the stair, but there is clearly no one here!” Nob said as he looked around.  “Maybe whomever is here, wherever they are, doesn’t wish to be seen but still want to be welcoming?” Orin muttered to himself.  With a forced bravado Orin said, “Nob, you are always hungry, now is your time to shine!”  “Orin I am never one to turn down free food but…” started Nob.  “Nonsense!” said Orin.  As he moved past the table, he grabbed the most massive turkey leg he had ever seen and threw it to Nob.  “We don’t want to be bad guests now do we?”  Nob caught the leg and its aroma was tantalizing.  “Well,” he replied, “I earned this anyway, climbing my rope for you!” and he took a careful bite.

“Now, Nob, as I’m not hungry, and sitting here won’t find us a way out, let’s get a move on.” Orin called as he inspected the rest of the room.  He could see that the walls to his left and right were unbroken.  In front of him, opposite the archway they had entered, was another archway leading onward.  “I’ll give you another minute, then let’s go check out this way” he said pointing.  There was no answer.  Orin had now reached the far side of the room.  “Nob, let’s go! - we need to find a way out or someone to help us.”  Still no answer.  Greatly annoyed, Orin turned back and then screamed.  The table was gone, and where Nob had been standing was a new column.  “Nob!  Nooob!” Orin yelled as he ran back and forth frantically searching, finally banging his fists uselessly against the hard stone.  As his knuckles began to bleed, Orin looked around the room again wildly.  “What devilry is this?!” he exclaimed.  His knees gave out and he slumped to the floor.  “I’m so sorry Nob!”

 

******************************

 

He didn’t know what else to do except keep going.  Beyond the next archway was another very long hallway of which the end could not be seen.  The crystal lights, which at first had felt somewhat welcoming and friendly, now felt cold and ominous.  He continued walking for what might have been hours, it was impossible to tell in this unchanging, unearthly light.  He began feeling pangs of hunger, so to collect his thoughts and see something real he sat down to take inventory of his food stores.  There was the full water canteen.  He also had three apples, some dried meats, an assortment of small vegetables from his garden - decent fare, but hardly more than a day’s worth.  He had not intended on spending any more time than that inside the Door (he had started thinking of the Door as a capital thing).  He had no way to know how long, if ever, he would take come to an exit.  He made a meal of a single apple and a few strips of the dried meat, then rested for what he felt must be the night.

The next day when he opened his pack for breakfast, he was stunned.  There were three apples in the pack again!  He looked up at the nearest crystal light and snapped “So, not totally evil, are you?”  Then he threw on the backpack and carried on.  After another several hours (Maybe?  How can one know?) he came to a passage that ended in a large wall with four doors, side by side, maybe 10 feet apart.  There were no markings or signs.  None of them appeared to go up or down, just a gentle curve and a continued level entry deeper into the Mountain.  “Any of them has just a good a chance as the other to get me out of this place” he thought.  He took the left passage.

 

******************************

 

As he journeyed, the food and water he used out of his pack was somehow continually replaced.  He knew had this not been the case, he would have surely died not long after passing through the Door.  Time was impossible to tell, but after what he had decided to call days, the passage finally brought him to another four doored wall.  Or was it another after all?  Was it the same?  He was beginning to feel that he would go mad from the loneliness, the quiet, and sameness of the world beyond the Door.  He dug in his pack and found the palm sized river rock that he had taken with him on his initial journey to join the Guard - the only memento of home he had taken with him.  With it he scratched a white X on the wall of the junction.  Then, as an experiment, he took the left passage again.

 

After another long, mind numbing journey he found himself again at the meeting of the ways and there was the X he had scratched on the wall.  Even though he had to admit he had expected this, it still shook him.  “What an evil fate this is.”  One by one he tried each passage, and each time merely returned to the same X on the wall.  After taking the last passage, and finding himself again where he started, his strength and will finally left him, and he collapsed.  He kicked his feet like a small child and yelled at the top of his lungs, “What do you want from me?!”  In despair, he lay on his face and darkness took him. 

 

******************************

 

When he had regained consciousness, he rose, and was startled to see that in the corner opposite him was a pile of rags that he was certain had not been there before.  When he approached, he could see that the rags contained the bones of a fellow traveler.  He reached a trembling hand out to touch the remains.  “Are you real?  Did you follow me through the Door?  Did I follow you?  You poor, lucky fool to have died.”  Then he noticed something clutched in the dead traveler’s hand.  It was a white river rock very similar to his own.  “Great minds think alike!” Orin laughed.  When he lifted his gaze again, with a sharp intake of breath he saw that where there had been four hallways, there was now only one.  “You give me a corpse and take away paths?  Your sense of humor is severely wanting!” he cried.  Then determinedly he gathered himself once again, hoisted his pack, and ventured down the new corridor. 

 

******************************

 

So it went - day after day, month after month, year after year.  He had no objective way to measure time.  He tried counting steps but it galled him.  He tried watching the length of his fingernails - until it became a fixation and he chewed them off in a fit of rage.  His mind was constantly at war with itself.  He was not a failure!  He had failed Nob!  This was not his fault!  Why didn’t you listen!  Nob is gone forever, give it up and die!  He could not fail, then Nob was gone for nothing!  In the end, he utterly resolved to escape, to honor Nob, and warn the Elders, somebody, anybody - about this empty Hell.  He endlessly wandered through the endless hallways - sometimes repeating, sometimes finding new passages.  He started talking to the X’s that he would come upon that he had left for himself like they were old friends.  They and the crystal lights were his only companions.  As time inexorably wore on, the limit of his stamina for each daily journey began to wane.  His joints were aching, and his beard was long and white.  The long-dull apple knife he had packed was useless for cutting his hair.  Now and again when he couldn’t bear it any longer, he would sit and saw and swear until he could scrape some of it off.

There came a day when he cracked at last.  He had come to yet another series of passages with dozens of X’s scratched onto the walls.  His stiff fingers shakily started to add another when the last, tiny bit of his river rock crumbled into dust and slowly settled at his feet.  He stood like a statue for a moment, slack jawed.  Then he cackled hysterically and bit the tip of his finger, drawing the new X in his own blood.  Then his mind finally failed, and Orin collapsed on all fours like an animal.  There happened to be another (the same?) traveler’s rags and remains.  He crawled over next to them.  “You had the right idea friend!” he croaked, staring madly into the empty eye sockets. “I could have rested so long ago!  But I cannot fail, I must not fail, I am not a failure, stop looking at me!”  He picked up the skull and smashed it against the wall.  Then, the bitterness that rose up within him was so overwhelming he began to weep.  When he had wept himself to exhaustion, he made a pillow out of his threadbare pack and slept.

 

******************************

 

When he awoke, he thought he must have died.  There was a different feel to the air and his mood was strangely lightened.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  His hunger that awaited him told him that he was still very much alive.  As he started to fumble with his pack for food, he saw a new light floating in front of him.  It took him a few moments to realize that this light wasn’t attached to the wall, or anything else for that matter.  He stared at the will-o-the-wisp as it bobbed, and then it moved without sound into one of the nearby passages.  Orin leapt to his feet, a thrill filling his entire being.  His will to live had been suddenly rekindled.  From the depths of his soul he knew he had to follow the light.  Startled by muffled bouncing behind him he turned to look.  His heart nearly failed him.  When he had leapt up, his aged and threadbare pack had finally given way.  The food and the water were falling to the floor around him - and as his provisions hit the floor, they vanished.

“I must find the light or die!” he cried as he fled down the passage it had taken.  He hadn’t gone very far before he caught up to it.  It was almost like it was waiting for him to follow.  As he hurried on, it was ever before him - sometimes nearer, sometimes farther - but relentlessly it led on through the crystal lit passages.  Time seemed to be standing still and racing forward simultaneously.  As the journey continued ever forward, his deep weariness and the need for water began to fill his mind.  He began to feel delirious and had difficulty maintaining his balance.  He never saw the stairs until he tripped on them.

 

******************************

 

He had long since stopped paying much attention to where he was going, his entire focus on keeping his feet moving and not losing his guide.  When he had slowly picked himself up, he saw that he was at the bottom of a tall, narrow stair.  The orb of light pulsed brightly for a few moments and then vanished.  He hardly noticed it had gone in his excitement.  He had not seen a stair or even a slope since his initial descent into this infernal hellhole.  A million level paths he had taken, but now, here, was a way up �" and not a single scratched X!  He thought about the last dust of his river rock that was left behind.  “Thank you, friend.” He whispered through cracked, dry lips.

He took a deep breath and began climbing the stairs.  Had he still been the young man that he was when he first went through the Door this would have been no trouble at all, but in his now old and feeble state, the stairs were evil indeed.  As he climbed higher and higher, his hunger and thirst became a physical and mental weight.  His ragged clothes hung loosely from his body.  Every muscle burned.  Still, he had not endured this long to die on what he prayed was the doorstep.  Up and up he went beyond all exhaustion.  He closed his eyes and willed his body to continue.  Then, just as he could not have gone any further and began to welcome death again, he crawled head first into a Door.  For several minutes he sat stunned, staring.  It looked exactly like the Door that had haunted his dreams all these long years, except, was that maybe a faint moon on it?  He couldn’t tell.  He reached a thin, tremulous hand to the door and pushed with what little strength remained him.

It opened.

Orin’s eyes, so long accustomed to the dim underworld, were assaulted and blinded by the sunlight flooding into the stair.  He felt a rising breeze and heard birds singing.  He wept but no tears came.  Had he not been so spent he would have danced for joy.  He crawled through the door, which closed behind him, and disappeared - only a normal mountainside remained.  He lay on his back listening to the wind and the birds.  Then, he thought he heard a sound he had never expected to again �" the sound of running water.  In desperation, on his hands and knees, he struggled toward it.  As his sight began to slowly return to him, he saw he was on a cliff, perhaps 30 feet high, very sheer, looking down over a river.  Was this his Mountain?  Was this his River?  Had he come out on the other side of the world?  It might have looked familiar, but his mind was so blasted by years of solitude and sensory deprivation that he couldn’t be sure of anything.

As he looked up and down the cliff wall, he saw one place where some vines dangled over the side all the way down to the water.  “This is the best I’m going to do it seems, and it is water or death” Orin muttered.  He slipped his feet over the side, held the vines and began to slide down the cliff.  He was incredibly weak, but somehow managed it.  About 5 feet from the bottom, to his horror, he heard a snapping noise above him.  The vines had frayed on the rocky lip above and given out, and he fell.  Everything felt like it was in slow motion as he spun in the air and the water came up to greet him. 

 

******************************

 

He hit the surface hard and struck his head a luckily glancing blow on a submerged stone.  He drank greedily through his dizziness and pain.  As he drank, he thought he saw a salamander under the rock.  He paused with a sudden fear that he didn’t understand.  Suddenly, strong arms were under his shoulders lifting him up.  The sun on the water was dazzling and he blinked his eyes hard against it.  Scattered thoughts chased themselves inside his skull.  He had to get home, no, he’d been gone too long, what home would be left him?  He had to get to the City, he had to tell the Elders!  He had to….  He felt himself lowered down onto a tree stump.  As he regained his senses and looked around him, with a flash he recognized where he was!  So close to home!  He had an overwhelming desire to run.  As he leapt to his feet, one of the men grabbed his arm and spoke to him.  He hadn’t heard another human voice in so long.  He looked into the face of the man who had his arm.  Words utterly failed Orin, stumbling over themselves into nonsense.  Was this not Nob?  Nob my friend - after all this time you’re ok! 

“Orin, let’s get him back to the house.”

The End