Phantasia

After following a trail of suspicious thoughts tracked by Faye, and passing some graffiti Phantasia recalled from her previous rush through the catacombs, the two faeries came across the metal doors leading to the chamber where young Ravens had sacrificed their life force for momentary bliss.

“I do not detect any thought patterns from the chamber beyond,” said Faye.

“Nope, I ain’t feeling anything either,” said Phantasia, “Last time I was struggling to hold off corruptive atmosphere, but this time there ain’t a thing. It’s as lifeless as the Industrial Zone above,”

They stepped through the doors and into a darkened chamber. There were no chanting shamans, no entranced Ravens, and no oily black shadows – just the scant remains of an old magic circle, its lines smeared and scuffed. Like the circle Phantasia had found beneath the Hawk’s gallery, this one had served its purpose and been left to rot.

“This chamber had not been visited for over three weeks,” said Faye, “It would appear it was abandoned even before you confronted and destroyed the leansídhe that was created here,”

Phantasia strode across the room to a dark cleft at its far end as Faye absorbed whatever knowledge she could from their surroundings.

“I cannot ascertain the true motives of the shamans that were here,” she said, “Their thoughts were well protected and did not contaminate their surroundings. All I can sense are the thoughts of their victims, none of which are useful in our investigation,”

“Not even an idea on where the missing ones disappeared to?” asked Phantasia as she reached the other side of the chamber and peered into the darkness beyond, her eyes following a faint, lingering trail of corruption along the irregular surface.

“From what I can read, it would appear the ritual caused much disorientation in their minds, as although I can trace the thoughts coming into the room, those that leave are a jumble of delusions and non sequiturs,”

“Anyone leave this way?” asked Phantasia, beckoning Faye over to the hole in the wall, which burrowed into the earth and created a steep slope into darkness. A distant echo of rushing water suggested it didn’t meet a dead end.

“Perhaps,” said Faye, placing her hand on the opening, “Once again I cannot detect the residual thoughts of the shamans, but I can feel some slight disorientation. Perhaps some of the ritual’s victims were taken this way,”

Phantasia pulled herself into the hole. “There’s only one way to find out,” she said, and was about to dive down the slope when Faye grasped her arm, pulling her back.

“Might I suggest we do not rush into this situation?” she said, “We must assume that, if this is a passage used by our antagonists, there is always the chance that detections traps have been set – or worse,”

“Ah, it’s okay, I’ll be able to see them like I was able to see those seals under the church,” said Phantasia, “And besides, we’ve got this far okay!”

Chapter 47
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