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The Barkeep's Tavern records

Located off Shepherd's hill is a small tavern. old in bricks and drinks, the tavern hosts a unique crowd. The tavern master, the resident barkeep often is privy to interesting stories. He stands, slowly wiping each glass as he listens to stories of a sheer enigma. The tavern master, erected the tavern for the same intention, for it to act as a stopping point for everyone, from anywhere and from any time! The Barkeep, a man out of time, dressed oddly enough but was never seen beyond the flicker of the evening candle shadow. He was for all intents and purposes, hidden, cloaked from the world. Too many horrors had he seen, with each wipe of the glass he recalls a story, each and every story that he was told.

_Batu_ · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
10 Chs

A Delicious Offer

The lamp lit still; its light cut through the empty corridor. The place felt alive, a certain chill cocooned us from the warmth of Helios. Cobwebs painted the walls, creating little worlds in the empty abyss. Our footsteps echoed, the lamp-lit strongly through the darkness and so was our hearts as we neared the door. Quite an old door, centuries of history seemed ingrained into the many dents that showed its age.

"This doesn't look all right", she said as her legs shivered.

"It will be fine", he said with a cheerful smile.

"All right let's see to it", she almost whispered while showering the lamp's light on the old door.

"It's just this door, doesn't look that scary", he said as he yanked the door, budging it open.

They were opened to a world, a dark world. A cloud of bats swarmed out, the bat's echoes exploded in their ears as they ducked to the ground, screaming. As the air cleared, the door seemed to growl deep, their bones now cold as ice. He did not seem confident as he was before, but he took his first step down into an enigma.

There were stairs, wooden by sound. They mimed the door with centuries of history with each step he took. She stood back, waiting patiently for him to return to her. To return to Helios's grace once again.

He took a small torch from his pocket, lighting it aflame, he walked down the long set of stairs. He felt the walls with their unique cracks and crevasses painting a masterpiece of their own. The place began to feel much colder; he clasped the torch much closer to his face. As he walked, his thoughts wandered down his memories. He remembered the time he came back home, crying from a fall down the road. His mum held him in her arms before proceeding to dress his wound and giving him one belly filled with hot and tasty food.

The time when he stole the whole cart of carrots, ran fast from the cursing owners. He smiled at these thoughts, he found comfort in such memories when others could not. He paused for a second and looked at the wall that was lit because of the torch.

"These…. These are Claw marks…", he said, looking curiously, desperate to hide his fear.

He paused for a minute and began to think of his decisions. The time when he decided to not listen to his parents and run away. He came back home beaten up that day or today's decision of entering the ruins by the temple. He steeled himself and continued to walk holding the torch in front.

As he walked down, the stairs underneath his feet felt much different, they felt sturdier. He bends down to touch it, it felt smooth much like a sword, coloured like the dark leaves of a tree in his family's house. There seemed to be light coming down from a few steps. He hurried down while wondering how the light shined so far downstairs.

Upon reaching the source of light, the atmosphere became much tougher. The breath seemed to be clogged in his nose. He began to take a much deeper breath to barely let him stand.

"IS THAT A TUNERLLER", screamed a voice.

"CONTACT, WE HAVE A TUNNELER", screamed another voice.

They wore strange clothes, ones that covered the entire body. They carried huge pieces of wood that they pointed at his head. Without a second's thought, he ducked to a huge explosion. He felt the ripple through the wall. His ears were ringing as he got up to see blood, blood everywhere. He felt hollow, weak to the sight. He gagged as he re-imagined the sight of six frightened men, remarkably like him heading into the unknown to only have their destiny, not in their control. He began to stand slowly, the atmosphere denied him more air than before. Filled with an iron-like smell, he took his last whiff of the depressed state of those six people and the world they belonged to and walked on.

The abyss down the stairs was darker to his eyes due to his previous exposure to light. The air became much clear and colder, his lungs felt heavy with all the air that was going in. He was scared, panting hard as he planted his footing on every single stair. He walked on, thinking about those men. Six strong men died from a large flash of light and one loud sound. He thought of their family, this thought hit him hard. He thought of his own family, the daily bread on the table. Mother working hard in the fields and Dad in the market. The two of them ran around the house playing catch, a simpler time he felt but it had all changed.

He ran away, in his mind the world did not seem to care. His mother, too busy for him and his father, was too proud. The rage engulfed him, clenching his fists, he walked on. The stairs were much colder, they seemed normal again.

There it was again, that growl. Felt like the belly of a large beast, hungry for its next meal. The torch began to slowly flicker. Its light seemed to be fighting a battle of its own, against the cold winds. He felt he was closing in, the stairs that he had been climbing began to lose their angle. Being flatter with a step that passed beneath his shivering legs. The light suddenly went out the next growl that was deeper than the last. He felt the end of his journey down the stairs was near.

He felt weak, afraid, scared that he did not have what it took to fight this beast. He remembered the times when he was thrown down. When he felt the brutal lashes for not listening. The pain and suffering. Surrounded by these memories only made his resolve stronger. He wanted to beat this feeling, this feeling of being left alone, him thinking that he was not worth it.

"Too long have I been like this", he said loudly, throwing down the torch and proceeding into the dark corridor that the stairs lead him to.

He looked for support in the dark hallway but got one while pretending to be strong, he walked alone. Straight into the face of the darkness. His resolve, well that remained a question.

DID HE HAVE THE RESOLVE TO ESCAPE?

He slammed his head against a wall, a door which he later understood now seemed to hold a way of out this depression. This abyss that he decided to walk into. He drowned in memories of perfect craftsmanship, each that reminded or deprived him of himself.

"Is she still up there waiting for me?".

"Will she still be there when I return"?

"Will I ever return, I will. I think…no, I know I will".

"I HOPE".

Thoughts ran in his head, as he desperately looked for the knob to open the other side. Finding the doorknob was easier than pushing the door itself until the door opened. It opened to a well-lit room.

A central table, with some dark, drown liquid that remained hot against the cold wind. Posters of people hung across the room and a lady shut the door behind him. This lady looked much older and more beautiful. She had a godly glow to her skin. She put her arm around him and guided him to a chair.

Seating him down, she sat across.

"You have come a long journey, haven't you?".

"Who…who are you? Why do you stay here".

"Well, it does happen to be my home. Why shouldn't I stay here?".

"It's such an empty hallway, it's dark and scary. Don't you get scared?".

"What dark and empty hallway?".

She proceeded to the door as he watched her from the chair and saw the view of a busy market as she opened the door he just walked through. The market was green and filled with people laughing. They all seemed incredibly happy. She closed the door and locked it in extra measure.

"Anyway, why were you standing next to my door?", She asked while sipping this dark liquid.

"I Don't…Don't know, I saw this dark sky. I imagined all the bad things happening to me all at once. I feel like I am not enough. I want to prove myself to this world, to this uncaring world. I feel like all of them want to see me suffer....", he continued to narrate his story.

The story about his visit to this dark place where six odd men lost their lives to a blinding flash of light, the constant growls that blew cold winds across my face, all the negative memories that he was subject to as he walked down this mysterious flight of stairs and his resolve to battle all of this that was growing dimmer before he came to this place.

"Well, that is quite a tale, young man", she said.

"Yes, it's just that I feel so helpless at times. I don't know what I should do".

"Stop the fight, let it go. Join the humans that have already done so. You are not alone.", she said with a smirk.

"Aren't we supposed to fight this?", he looked at her with curious eyes.

"How long will you fight it? Embrace it. You are in the belly of the beast. The heart of people meeting. Why fight and lose time when you can embrace and have just a little bit more? More time. You know time is this amazing thing, you do not know when you travel through it. It's a twisted concept, not comprehensible by the human mind".

"Maybe, you are right. I have lost a lot of time-fighting this. Maybe... you are right."

She just smiled at him.

The sun began setting on the horizon, and a girl who fell asleep on a column just got up. She stretched her legs while yawning a little. Dusting herself, she walked towards the horizon. Licking her fingers and feeling oddly full in her belly.

Her name? Oizys…. the goddess of misery, sadness and well, depression.