Circuits & Sorcery

Chapter Four - It fell from the heavens!

The cultists lair was found within an ancient crater, older than even Keygoire. The historians of Biblio believed that it had been caused during the Mythic Age, when Tywyll, God of destruction, had attempted to destroy Solas’ most recent creation, the world of Honosreach. Now, within the Fifth Age, it was nothing more than a barren basin found within the beautiful and scenic rolling green fields of Reginald’s beloved Quilldrake. The farmers and other peasantry of these parts were, for the most part, all good people. Fathers teaching their sons the way of hard, honest work, and mothers teaching their daughters the ways of motherhood and how to keep a good home. While some parts of the world considered Quilldrake a rather outdated and old-fashioned place, Reginald loved it with all his heart. If he had not pledged himself to Solas, he could have seen himself raising a family on one of these idyllic little farms. The idea of working with the land, creating life from the very soil beneath his feet, appealed to him.
The knight and the wizard had greeted young Quinn and rejoined with their horses. Reginald had just finished preparing his saddle pack when the four strange missiles tore across the sky above the party. They were travelling at such speed that at first, he wasn’t sure if they were real or just some conjured illusions by the vile cultists from the lair. Then the sound caught up with them and it was deafening. All three men held their hands to their ears to shield them as much as possible. The horses bolted at the sound and fled off in separate directions, fleeing from the dreadful boom. Next came the wind from the strange projectiles, it was a gust strong enough to knock poor Quinn off his feet. Keygoire struggled to keep hold of his hat while anything loose was blown away in the winds. Reginald looked upward and saw that the projectiles had impacted with the edge of the rocky crater they were within. The things passed through the rock like it was water beneath a child’s toy. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of tons of rock and soil were displaced as the strange projectiles passed underneath the surface of the fields. Reginald was unable to see the full extent of the damage to the farmland from his position, but he had no doubt it was monumental.
Before any of the three men had a chance to react to the four devastating projectiles, the light of the early evening sun vanished. Reginald looked up, unsure what he should have expected to see but was still shocked when he saw, well, to be honest, he wasn’t sure what he saw. It may have been a craft, like a ship, but it sailed through the sky instead of the water, and it was easily the size of a castle. It was so large that as it passed over the top of the party, it blocked all view of the sky. Whatever this thing was, it was constructed not from wood as with a ship, and not from stone as with a castle, but instead of a type of metal that now rained down from above as it ripped itself apart above them. The sound of the thing was deafening, and the wind was fast but notably both were less than that of the four projectiles that proceeded the massive vessel. Like the four strange projectiles, the sky ship collided with the edge of the crater, smashing it to dust under its sheer size and weight. A series of explosions erupted from several points along the body of the vessel as it ploughed through the farmland outside of the crater. Eventually it came to rest within the once flourishing farmland above the dusty bowl that had most likely saved the three men’s lives.
Reginald looked at Keygoire, who looked as equally shocked as the knight himself. The wizard readjusted his hat, that had been knocked askew by the terrible winds, then turned towards Quinn who was still on the floor. The poor squire looked as white as a ghost, but Keygoire either didn’t notice or didn’t care, as he simply pulled the boy to his feet and barked a command at him.
“Go quickly now and fetch the horses, boy!” The wizard may have been wise and more knowledgeable than any mortal before him, but he lacked manners. Reginald then remembered that the wizard had the ability to turn people into mice and decided not to confront him.
“Come Quinn, I shall aid you.” Reginald figured that the best way to help the squire was to take some of the burden from his shoulders.
“Good thinking, Sir Knight, with two of you it should be even quicker. We need to investigate this strange occurrence with all due haste!”
With that both Reginald and Quinn ran off to retrieve the startled horses. By the time that all three men were on horseback heading towards the wreckage of the flaming ship that had fallen from the heavens, the sun had retreated behind the horizon. The three had to resort to the lanterns that hung from the back of each of their saddles. While these provided a little light, it wasn’t much and the journey from the cave entrance to the edge of the rocky crater was a slow and careful one. Reginald would have rather called their adventure for the time being, allowed them to rest and sleep for the night, but Keygoire wouldn’t allow them to slow any more than strictly necessary. The old wizard was rather insistent that this strange vessel be explored at once. So, they pushed onward.
The pathway up and out of the crater had been destroyed about halfway up. Where once there was a steep but walkable pathway carved into the hard dry rock of the dusty basin, now there was nothing more than a massive pile of rocky rubble. The loose rocks and debris reached up in front of the party for at least half a mile. There was no way that the horses would be able to climb this.
“If we turn back, rest for the night, and then continue onward to the exit on the far side of the…”
“Pish posh, why would we turn around?” Keygoire cut Reginald off. When the wizard got no answer to his question, he simply continued. “Quinn will wait for us here with the horses, and me and you, Sir Knight, will continue onwards. We’ll be able to climb this in no more than an hour!” Reginald could feel the fatigue of the day wearing on his body, but he also knew that there was no talking the mage out of this adventure.
Two hours had passed by the time that the men reached the top of the bowl. Reginald was covered in sweat and was struggling to hold his lantern up as his arm ached with the effort. But he continued. As he looked up, the full extent of the damage to this strange vessel became apparent. Several sections were on fire, while jolts of electricity sparked from many other areas, each one briefly lighting up the destruction around them. The two men continued to walk alongside the ruined craft, looking for some opening that seemed safe enough to allow them passage to the internal parts of the ship. It wasn’t until they reached the far end of the vessel that Keygoire spotted a gash torn out of the metallic surface that seemed to lead inside. As Reginald stepped backwards and examined the slice into the hull, he noticed that it was different from the rest of the destruction that the ship had suffered during its hard landing. That damage was crushed, cracked, broken, and ripped off with the force of flying through the sky. This hole, it was a slash, similar to the tearing of flesh caused by a dragon's mighty claws. It hadn’t been ripped off during the ships rush through the sky, or broken beyond repair when it hit the ground, this had been torn into the ship. What sort of terrifying creature was capable of doing this to a ship built from the hardest metal that Reginald had ever encountered? It was surely the thing of nightmares.
The wizard failed to notice Reginald’s worried expression, or was simply ignoring it, and instead squeezed through the hole into the internal part of the ship. Reginald sighed, unsheathed his magical sword, which as soon as it was free of its scabbard erupted into holy flames, the runes along its blade glowing a warm orange colour. Then the knight abandoned his lantern and followed the wizard into the internals of the strange ship.
As he reached the inside, it was unlike anything he had ever seen. The ship seemed to be on its side, as the hole they entered through was on the ceiling. Reginald figured this out because of a few interesting things that happened as he entered the ship. The first was that, where he would have expected down to be in the same direction as it was outside, it was instead directly in front of him. In other words, he stepped through the strange hole and then fell forward, which was now down, and hit the new floor with a hard thud. As he got up and reorientated himself, he noticed that Keygoire was examining the space around them. His flaming sword bathed the area in enough light to be able to see their immediate surroundings. The walls were a pleasant dull grey, and ran upwards into a curved ceiling, that was only interrupted by the massive tear above them, while the floor was covered in a comfortable red carpet. The space seemed to be a hallway, that ran for meters in either direction. Although as both directions faded into darkness they could have gone on for metres, or kilometres, there was no real way of knowing.
“Which way should we go, Keygoire?” The wizard seemed far too preoccupied with his examination of this strange place to bother answering the knight. Then a bright light flashed in front of both men, as their eyes readjusted, they saw the form of a man, or maybe a boy, it was hard to tell. Unlike most other men, this one was comprised of only a single colour, in this case it was a low dark shade of red.
“Eisnggrte are uyo eillsa of het liecaanl?” While Reginald could tell that these were words, it was spoken in a tongue that was foreign to his ears.
“Who are you?” Keygoire seemed more curious than cautious, which was madness to Reginald.
“I’m soyrr utb eth ugaaelgn eyuor nsgpaike is otn one thta si tidreegrse hiniwt my ktadasbna.”
Reginald moved forward with his flaming sword and prepared for a confrontation with whatever this creature was.
“Are you spirit or spector, some vengeful shadow from beyond the veil of death? Speak or I’ll strike you down with the holy flame of Solas!” The thing raised its arms in a pose that Reginald read as surrender. Then it continued.
“Spelae I nmae uyo no hmar, but aleeps ncneiuot ltngiak I’m nbeiggnni to utoccdntres hte unntfoodai fo uoyr aalgugne.”
“Stop this foolishness Sir Knight and lower your blade. This creature obviously means us no harm, but it’s apparent that neither of us know the tongue of the other. I simply require some time to construct a spell able to solve this dilemma.” Keygoire placed his hands upon the hilt of Reginald’s holy sword and slowly lowered the weapon. The wizard was wise, and he seemed to be correct. If, whatever this thing was, had meant to harm either of them, then it would have attempted something by now.
When the sword was lowered, the wizard pulled a spell book that contained thousands of magical runes and began to study them. The process took hours, and the strange ghost thing kept attempting to converse with the two men. This made little sense to Reginald as the words just sounded like nonsense to him, but the thing seemed pleased with any response that it got. After a while of failed conversation starters, Reginald decided that if this, thing, just wanted him to talk, then he would talk about the one thing he knew better than anything else. Solas.
He began to talk about the holy teachings of his God, her unbound kindness and love of creation, how she had innumerable children that all ruled over some aspect of creation within the countless realms. The ghost thing seemed to be engrossed with his teachings, despite not understanding him at all. Keygoire had etched a series of runes into one of the few empty spots left upon his staff. He seemed absorbed within his runebook, making brief scribbles within the last few pages before erasing them and then either adding them to his staff or returning to his studies.
Eventually Reginald, overcome with both mental and physical exhaustion, sat down against the wall. He retrieved the pouch he had tied around his belt and checked on the cultist turned mouse. They were much cuter as a rodent than they were as a person. Reginald gave the mouse a scratch behind its ear, which it seemed to enjoy. He then let the thing out of the pouch and watched as it slowly examined its strange surroundings. How much did the little cultist know about this strange ship? Perhaps this craft had been summoned here by the cultists. It was a possibility, after all, he had no idea what they had been using the Orb of Regna for. Eventually the mouse seemed to have had enough of looking around the rather plane hallway and tried to climb back up the knight’s tunic. Reginald placed the small creature back inside the pouch and began to rest his eyes. He very quickly drifted off to sleep. In what seemed like no time at all but must have been at least a few hours because the sun was shining down through the hole in the ceiling, he awoke to Keygoire shaking him by the shoulders. Reginald wondered if the wizard was always this rude.
“Sir Knight, we’re needed further inside the vessel, at the bridge.” The wizard hadn’t slept a wink, yet he still seemed full of energy. Reginald had caught a few hours of sleep at least and yet still felt exhausted. This didn’t seem fair at all. Still, he was needed, so he got to his feet.
“Hey there Sir Reginald. At last, I can make your acquaintance, my name is Theo, the AI of the UAV-Abyss.” The ghost thing was now able to speak in a tongue familiar to Reginald.
“Was this the work of your spell Keygoire?” Reginald asked, turning to the wizard.
“It was quite the thing, we both managed to solve the matter of language, at roughly the same time.” Reginald received his answer not from the wizard but instead from the ghost, no, this AI, whatever that was.
“How did you manage that?” Reginald asked, in the direction of both the AI and the wizard.
“I was researching the ancient arcane runes, trying my best to construct a spell that would allow us to understand any foreign tongue.” Keygoire began.
“While I was listening intently to your stories, and deconstructing the basic foundation of your language, in order to learn how to understand and speak it.” The AI continued.
“We both reached the climax to our efforts at roughly the same time.” Keygoire finished.
“I must admit I’ve not had such a stimulating challenge in quite some time. As much as I would love to learn more about your world, or to teach you about my own, I feel that it would first be best if I introduced you to the crew of the spacecraft. Those that survived the impact can be found on the bridge, if you would kindly follow me, I can lead you there.”
With that, a knight, a wizard, and an AI all made their way through the damaged hallways of the UAV-Abyss, towards the bridge, where two vastly different worlds would make contact with each other for the first time.

© Robyn Timmons, 2025