Artemis had quickly forced himself to his feet, bearing what pain remained as he limped slowly through the dark halls of the black palace.
What did she mean by 'hope I don't get thirsty?'
Indeed, there is something wrong with the black water. But I can find a source of cleaner water, surely.
He quickly scanned the rooftops of the nearby buildings, searching for any inconsistency in the shade that cloaked their surfaces. But no matter how closely he observed, he saw no sign of the pale-eyed shadow.
It must have hid itself away…
I need to be wary of an attack. I can't trust that it will stay an observer forever.
His next step was clear. He had to make it to the light in the tower at the city's edge. All that remained was to find his way out of the palace and onto the extensive wall that surrounded the city!
And he was sure that somewhere in the palace, he could reach that grand height.
But before he thought about that, he needed to find a weapon. He was likely not going to survive another encounter with something like the hollow armour, much less the shadow or even the skeletal figure he had first encountered.
He needed something sharp, something deadly.
Artemis eventually came to a courtyard past a pile of rubble, weaving in between the buildings that had long-since caved in. Past a half-archway, a sprawling stone expanse opened up, giving way to the city beyond the Palace, and also its extensions, which he was sure would lead him to the wall where the light-strewn tower sat.
But the sight of what sat before him shook him out of his hopeful stupor.
At the far edge of the courtyard, he saw the silhouette of a lithe, slender woman, her bare skin graced by the dancing flames. Her face was pale, black liquid dripping down from her eyes, which were lined with fatigue, and long black hair ran down the front of her chest and back, scraggly and messy.
But her torso… it was obscured by layers upon layers of pitch-black carapace, an abdomen extending outwards above her, eight spindly legs grasping the wall she rested upon.
And from her frail hands, thousands of spindly bright-pink strands stretched out in all directions. They were fleshy, covered in a slimy, viscous substance that would drip down in droplets every so often, popping against the floor in an terribly loud splash.
The courtyard was far too silent. The only thing besides the dripping foul liquid was her sweet, sublime humming. Her voice was gentle and pleasant, it almost made Artemis instinctively want to sit down and relax.
But he knew better. This was no woman. This was a beast.
There was a mountain of corpses underneath underneath her, which she pulled the thin pink strands from one by one, weaving them into her terrifying monstrous loom, suspending them in the courtyard like a grotesque human web. Only instead of lace, it was their veins, nerves, and strands of their innards.
He certainly couldn't fight such a creature, not in his present state, and definitely not without a weapon. Sneaking by would be his only way past!
Sticking to the edge of the courtyard, obscured by the shadows, he was sure that the spider hadn't seen him. So, he continued creeping past.
The spider's gaze suddenly turned towards him.
Glancing down, he had stepped on a sticky strand of twisted veins…
His entire body froze in horror.
There were woven webs in the shadows too!?
The webs wrapped around his ankle, suddenly constricting. They tightened at an intense pace, further and further until they couldn't constrict anymore. Then, they snapped against the harsh, craggy stone of his wounds, freeing him from the predicament.
If he weren't still in danger, he would have felt relief that the stones had helped him beyond simply sealing his wounds…
Artemis dove away from the webs, weaving in between them as he rushed along the side of the courtyard. Rubble fell as more webs began to constrict, bringing portions of the neighboring buildings down overhead. The archways plastering the back-wall of the courtyard began to crumble as well, revealing him further to the terrifying beast.
A terrible scream echoed throughout the courtyard, nothing at all like the pleasant humming that had resounded through it before.
She hurled one of the corpses towards him with her lanky arm in the meanwhile.
F-ck! She looks like a twig, how can she throw like this!?
The body hurled past his head, crashing into the wall. An amalgamation of stone fragments and bloody chunks of flesh showered over him, staining his already-dirtied sleep wear.
Two more seconds… two more seconds and he would reach the end of the courtyard!
Thousands of quickly-formed strands of web shot out, plastering themselves against the back-wall of the courtyard. They formed an impenetrable wall, trying to block his escape.
F-ck! What can I- what can I do!?
He didn't know if he had enough strength left in his body, it had already waned to near-completion. If he was going to do something, this would definitely be his last action.
If there was any danger past the courtyard, he would be completely open to it!
Artemis jumped upwards, his better leg kicking against the wall as he grasped hold of the archway above him as he vaulted over the wall of webs, landing harshly on the other side. His body crashed into the stone, scraping up his face and arms, leaving behind a skid of blood as he got to his feet, running into the building beyond the courtyard.
To his surprise, past the courtyard, there was just a silent hall.
He could still hear the agony in the wailing of the spider beyond the door, but he couldn't bear to think of it any longer.
The more he kept these beasts inside his mind, the more their horror would erode his motivations.
He simply kept moving, trying to put distance between him and the creature. He was unsure as to whether or not the beast could follow in pursuit of him, so he would rather lose himself in the maze-like halls of the palace in order to lose her.
Not to mention that past the courtyard, he was far more terrified of the other beasts he could encounter.
There might just be more of those hollow sets of armour, or those skeletal figures that had wounded him to this extent.
Grasping at his bleeding arm, he limped into a room at the end of the silent hall, checking his corners carefully before stepping inside.
Shutting the door quietly behind him, Artemis let out a relieved sigh. He slid down against the door, his mind racing.
If it weren't for the stone, I feel as if I would have lost my leg…
That creature… I definitely cannot go back there. I need to find my way out of here past the courtyard, and hope that whatever it is, it doesn't lay within the depths of the city rather than the palace.
Either that, or I'll have to find a different route to the city through the palace.
First, let's determine if there's a way to the wall from here.
When he glanced up, his gaze shimmered. Dozens and dozens of glimmering blades surrounded him, armour set on stands in a strange display of frozen time. Once, this might have been the home of smiths, and the daily visits of knights.
This… this was the palace's armoury, as well as their smithy!
Several furnaces, once imbibed by flame, now cold with ash, lined the walls. Hammers that had rusted and cracked long ago sat silently atop black-iron anvils, lonely and untouched, coated in thick veils of dust and age.
Artemis began to walk around the armoury, standing before a set of onyx armour sitting on a stand.
Most of the blades littering the armoury were twice the size that he would expect, like they were crafted for giants. Moreover, a majority of them were made with a strange pitch-black steel, like the greatsword that the hollow armour had wielded.
So it really was a knight of the palace. Is it possible that the Spirit inhabiting the armour was one of the knights? Of course, it could have been any Spirit…
He brushed his hand over the onyx armour, reminiscing on the battle.
But the way that it fought… it was brilliant. What else could it have been but the owner of that set of armour?
And that mark on the back of the cuirass… I had never seen anything like it. I should have asked Lark about it… but there's no way she would have answered me seriously, so maybe it doesn't matter.
And I don't need to care about these intricate mysteries.
I only need to survive.
Of course, he said that much, but there was an inalienable curiosity that plagued him. He really wanted to find out why exactly he had appeared in the mysterious abandoned city. He wanted to find out what had transpired in that room of his, after two years of acting out the life of a recluse.
What was so special about him that demanded he fight for his life in a strange place, with no knowledge of how he had appeared there?
Artemis continued his search through the armoury for another few minutes.
In the end, there was only one blade that he could find that would match him decently, a curved talwar that gleamed silver under the faint light shining in from the barred windows. He grasped at its handle, which had no guard curving over it, just a short pommel that curled backwards. Its blade was still lengthy by most standards, with a visible curve along its edge.
But it would do.
He could hear the howl of beasts in the night, like dogs who had been severed from their better senses. All that remained was baser instinct, an urge to eviscerate and devour.
It sent shivers down his spine, even though he had determined himself to not be a simpering, frail Prince.
I shouldn't copy this now, not until I locate another creature to kill and devour… and I hope that will be never.
If he could, he would sneak through the entirety of the palace and make it to the wall without fighting a single creature. If survival was his prime objective, this was the most optimal course of action.
Sitting on a table in the far corner of the room, there was a smaller set of armour. A brown-leather cuirass was layered over steel-pinned black clothes, with leather pauldrons and vambraces, as well as leather faulds with a black cape-like cloth that fell to its knees.
It was nearly his size… but it still seemed like it was made for giants. This set just happened to be for… shorter giants…
Artemis lifted it up high, marveling at its make. It was fine work, artisanal. Whoever had spent the time etching lace into its edges had certainly taken their time.
But more importantly, with this, he could protect himself against the creatures of the city more effectively!
With this… I have a fighting chance…!