Creakikikikiki!!!
The insistent creaking of gears meeting gears. The gushing flow of steam in steel pipes, followed by a boiling hiss were the sounds that tickle Abel's already stormy senses.
He looked at the door calmly, before trying his best to calm himself.
After a whole minute of holding his breath, the elevator stopped, steam hissing as the door croaked open.
Before them was a long hallway lined with pillars and flanked by the statue of figures with wings, all in postures of prayer.
The Heraldim… or angels as the lay man knew them.
Messengers of the Divines, bringer of good news and Divine judgement.
As a child, Abel had been fascinated by these beings, always wanting to meet one.
He'd spend nights praying for the Divines to send one his way.
But as he grew older, he slowly distanced himself from religion. His beliefs waned, his mind focused on the physical things rather than unfounded superstitions.
But now, that superstition seemed to be the only way for him to get answers to his questions.
He turned to the statues, looking them straight in the face. The carvings were very lifelike, each angel seemingly different in their designs.
It almost felt like they were actual angels turned to stone.
And the instant he thought that, for a brief second, almost as fleeting as a breath, he thought he saw one of statues' eyes twitch.
"Holy Shit! Did that thing just move?" He blurted out as he jumped away, grabbing at Rathcliffe.
The man chuckled, looking at Abel with a hint of pity and contempt.
He turned back towards the never ending hallway and spoke.
"Maybe they did. The Heraldim Hall has a legend tied to it…"
These words piqued Abel's curiosity, his eyes now solely focused on the man before him.
Seeing he had caught his attention, he pulled out another cigar from his breast pocket and lit it.
With a drag and a puff, he blew smoke into the air, looking up as he seemed lost in thought.
"You smoke?" Rathcliffe asked Abel, passing an unlit cigarette to him.
"N-no! I quit after the incident"
"Mhmm. Sounds about right" Rathcliffe replied, before walking down the hallway, leading Abel.
"Legends say, thousands of years ago, when the Divines still walked the earth, Mihira and her mighty host once fought a battle here against a foe so great, the very fabric of history was shaken forever, creating the Event known as The extinction era…"
"The Second Era!!!" Abel exclaimed, his mind wandering to his younger days in the academy. As a student, he'd been taught about the history of the Inguld kingdom, and the formation of the Era based calendar.
The World was broken into four major known continents, spanning a spherical planet and divided by the massive seas and boundless oceans.
Time on the other hand, was broken up into eras.
"The First Era" Rathcliffe started off, his cigarette hanging on his lips
"Or also called the Beginnings of Beginnings, was the era when the world was believed to have been created by the Five Divines and Four Abyss Lords. This was the Era when giants, dragons, elves, fairies and spirits were believed to have walked the earth. As well as the Era when man began to walk the face of the earth.
The Second Era or most popularly called the era of Extinction. It was a time of chaos and strife, with one major factor involved in all of this."
Abel's thoughts raced as he tried to recall what he had been taught. The smell of cigar smoke seemed to do the trick.
"The Rise of the Immortal ones; now called the nine Lords of the Spirit Realm.
The Five Divines and the Four Abyss Lords" he muttered out to himself.
"Correct, Not much was recorded in this era, except for the fact that the divines slaughtered most of the monstrous races, annihilated the great dragons of old and wiped out the giants from the face of history" Rathcliffe verified as he smoked his cigar halfway before tossing it away and reigniting a new one.
"The races left alive, the remnants of the Humans and Elves, and some other smaller species still yet to be known, worshipped these beings as gods.
And the climax of the era:Their Ascension into Godhood."
Abel knew of the myths and legends that revolved around this time of history, but he didn't know how the Heraldim were involved.
"The Heraldim were once the followers of the Divines during this era, standing in the forefront of their battles… it is believed that Mihira once visited this land and fought against a giant serpent so large, it could swallow mountains" Rathcliffe continued
"That's… insane. How were they?" Abel spoke in surprise before keeping shut.
Then he looked at the statues and asked
"So these statues are their murals?"
Rathcliffe smiled back and took another drag of his smoke before answering in a matter of fact tone.
"No… their Graves"
"Graves? What does that mean?"
"It means… something you can't comprehend yet"
Just as he said this, a large wooden door suddenly came into view. A tall young man with sideburns running down his face and a mustache on his lips stood there, guarding it.
He suddenly jerked to his feet on seeing Rathcliffe, as he saluted him.
"Good den Ser Rathcliffe, hope yer day's been great?"
"Ah, Boris! How's the family downtown? You're looking quite spritely today"
"Aye Ser! Me wife just gave birth to my third wee boy last night"
Rathcliffe showed a hint of joy, as well as sorrow. Abel caught this emotion, but didn't know what it implied.
"Don't go kicking the bucket now eh?" He said before tapping Boris' shoulder. Then he turned to Abel and pointed at him.
"This young one is Abel Michaelson. He'll be working here as an intern this coming weeks"
Boris turned to look at Abel and grinned widely. He placed his hand on Abel's shoulder, before tapping it with enough force to make a grown man stumble.
"Aye young'un. Welcome to the Vault, where you'll see so much shit hit the ceiling you'd think brown was white, gahahahaha!" He roared, laughing at his own joke.
Abel shuddered at the force of his palm landing on his shoulder, but also at his 'distasteful' joke.
Rathcliffe opened the door behind him, revealing a well lit lobby with a sitting room and a reception table right at the center. A staircase led to a floor just above.
Click click click click TrrrrChing!!!!
The rattling of the keys of a working typewriter echoed in a rhythmic song.
On it, a woman dressed as a nun was typing something on a sheet of paper. Her eyes under her thin rimmed glasses looked up to the foot. Her cold face suddenly gained some colour, her blue eyes gleaming with what seemed to be youthful delight.
"C-c-captain! You're back"
The instant she blurted out those words, footsteps were heard rushing from the staircase, like a stampede of horses charging to war.
Soon, three figures dashed down.
A young man with sandy blond hair and emerald eyes dressed like a charlatan, and a pair of female twins with long black hair and grey eyes, dressed in white shirts and black body hugging pants.
"Captain!!!!" The three cried in delight, as they jumped on him and engulfed him in a massive hug.
Abel looked at the scene in shock, his jaw unhinged and falling. He saw Rathcliffe grinning, his eyes warm.
Boris walked up to him and tapped him softly on his shoulder.
"Lemme guess. The Cap'n made you go through some sort of excruciating pain and sorrow, so you're surprised at the sudden soft version of him eh?"
Abel couldn't speak at first, but soon he shook his head and looked closely at the other in the room.
Most of them were young. The twins looked around sixteen years old, whilst the young man dressed like a charlatan looked like someone who just hit eighteen, his sisters age.
"Alright kids, calm yourselves. I want to introduce someone to you" Rathcliffe spoke as he calmed the young ones before gesturing to Abel to step forward.
"This young man here is Abel Michaelson, a new intern for the time being"
Everyone turned to Abel, looking at him curiously.
The blond man was the first to respond.
"Hello, I'm Raphael, pleased to meet you Mr Abel" he said as he walked to ask for a handshake.
Abel returned to shake silently, trying to discern how on earth he just got a job as an intern without his knowledge.
Just as he was to speak, the door behind them opened.
From it, the figure of a large woman walked out almost shadowing Boris with her height alone.
And the presence she brought in was incredible.
She was about six feet and four inches tall, with a hulking body. Her hair was pure silver and her eyes marble white. It almost looked as if she was blind.
She wore a grey shirt with a green coat and brown leather trousers and boots.
The room temperature almost dropped at her entrance, bringing a cool sensation that made one shiver.
This type of pressure was the same when he first met the captain for the first time: a transcendental feeling. Yet whilst the captain was sharp and unnerving, hers was just pure cold.
The woman turned her attention to Abel, her deep white eyes looking at him, as if she could reach into his soul.
Abel's knees buckled, his heart racing to fight the sudden intrusion of the cold her eyes brought with it, before her gaze turned to Rathcliffe.
She gave a curt nod, before gesturing towards a door just behind the receptionist nun.
Rathcliffe, who seemed to be unaffected by the woman's aura, nodded and frowned.
"April, May, Raphael. Why don't you guys chat with Abel and make him comfortable whilst I speak with our… guest here"
Then, he turned and gestured for her to follow him.
***
The two entered a room that worked as a study and an office.
Rathcliffe sat on an armchair just in the corner as he gestured to the woman to be seated.
The woman refused, grabbing a sealed scroll from her pocket before tossing it at him.
He deftly caught it, his face becoming serious.
"Well, as silent as always, Freya. You really make yourself look older with such an expression"
Freya grunted and spoke with a gruff voice
"Take this seriously old man. Letter sealed with that insignia are very important"
"I know Freya, I know"
Just as he was to unseal it, she asked calmly.
"Is that the kid? The one who saw what happened that day?"
He didn't stop his actions as he replied offhandedly
"Well yes, it took me over a month on his case…" then he looked at Freya and continued
"It's unnerving, that kid. I saw the contamination in his mind. It was as terrible as it could get. But yet… it was like, a fraction of himself just held on"
"So a mind with stage 4 contamination gets cured instead of mutating into a raving lunatic? That's quite rare" she said as she leaned on the wall behind her, looking at the lightbulb above.
A few seconds later, Rathcliffe was reading the letter.
And he couldn't help but lift a brow.
He looked at Freya, who turned a questioning gaze in return.
"This… this is getting serious"