Irwin's Journey chapter 13: Fun from above (Patreon)

Irwin followed after the others as best as he could, but now that he wasn't the one in the lead, he found they had been holding back more than he'd known. It took all his effort just to keep up, let alone have any energy left to look around for things to jump them. He also noticed it hurt…

Over the last few days, he'd come to accept the fact he had to do things because the others didn't dare, want or think of them. Though he'd complained at times, it had also brought a sense of self-worth. Now he was relegated back to being the run, the last in the pack, the slowest and weakest. It didn't matter that he could use his fire to kill more imps than them... if it came to simply running, he'd be left behind.

Even Grel is doing better than me, he thought angrily. Shouldn't this special card be making me stronger?

As he gritted his teeth, he knew he was asking too much, even from a card like his. It usually took a year before significant changes were noticed when someone slotted an uncommon, and though it was probably faster with better cards, he guessed it wasn't that much faster. Not that he knew that much about it. He knew no one personally that had anything higher than an uncommon.

Perhaps if I survive, next month I'll be as strong as Greldo is today, he thought, watching in envy as his friend jogged after the others, out of breath, red-faced, and sometimes stumbling, but keeping up. Ahead of him, Olban reached another bridge, this one next to a four-story stone thing that could barely be called a building. He stopped and looked around, seeming to try and decide if they had to cross this or continue circling to the next one ahead.

The previous times these moments had given Irwin time to catch up, but he was so far back that he knew he wouldn't. Worry grew as he wondered if they would leave him behind. He stumbled along the edge of the building, trying his best to cover the hundred feet between him and them.

A red blot moved from the roof of the building like a blur. If he hadn't been so far back, Irwin knew he wouldn't have seen it.

"Look o-" he croaked, his weary body not even allowing him a shout.

Olban must have heard something because, at the last moment, he looked up. Then a massive Imp, easily twice as tall and much heavier, slammed into him, knocking him sideways off the bridge.

“Olban!” Greldo shouted.

Irwin stopped, his hands on his knees as he almost slumped to the ground. His body cared nothing for what happened ahead, and he struggled to keep his head pointed forward. The Imp was standing on the bridge; large, leathery wings curled up on its back and a massive stomach hanging over a loincloth.

How can that even fly? Irwin thought before seeing the others hesitantly take a few steps back.

"So you are the ones that have been killing my minions!"

The Imp boss' voice was slightly deeper than the high-pitched ones of the smaller ones, but his slimy smile was almost identical. He put a hand on his stomach, leaning it there like it was a table while raising the other one to his chin, tapping his lower lip. It was glaring intently at the group, which had backed up and was now huddled together and shivering. Daubutim was standing at the front, his club out, while Rachel stood next to him with her shield.

"Now… What am I going to do with you? It's going to take a year before I replenish my Cackle… such bad humans. Perhaps… ah! I know exactly what to do!" The Imp's smile turned even more malicious as his wings fluttered out and, with a massive beat, rose him up in the air.

"I'll torture you until you pay me back by entertaining me!" it screamed.

Irwin tried to force himself up, run towards them, and summon his flame to help, but his body decided this was the perfect time to break down. He crashed to his knees, eyes ahead, and just in time to see Greldo turn to him. Hidden behind Daubutim, he pointed at the building and mouthed hide!

"Time to prepare my meal," the Imp screeched. It belched, and a torrent of flame rushed from between its lips, starting as wide as its mouth but quickly fanning out to cover the group in a sea of fire.

A panicky, high-pitched scream erupted from somewhere in the fire, and Irwin looked away from the blinding gaze. He expected spots to cover his vision, his vision impaired by the flame, but there was nothing. With incredible effort, he pushed himself up and stumbled sideways toward the nearest entrance leading into the building. Another cry came from behind him, this time one of anger.

Don't die, Irwin thought as he staggered into the rubble-filled hallway. Unlike the neat stone and brick buildings in Malorin, the walls around him were a dull, dusty gray, with long thin gauges running diagonally from left to right. The hallway led to another that split up, left and right. The left one led to a staircase going up, the right one seemed to curve around, deeper into the building.

Hearing another high-pitched scream from behind him, Irwin hesitated, then turned right. He was barely standing, and moving up the stairs was unlikely. Trying his best not to picture the others gruesomely dying, he moved further into the building. Part of him was surprised at the size of it, corridors leading up, down, and further away.

It's built into the pillar, he thought as he moved along a narrow path with dust layered thick on the ground. The sounds from behind had died down, muffled by the layers of rock surrounding him.

Another dead end, he thought as he put his hand on the wall, head hanging. Who built this place? He was about to turn when a trickle of warm air flowed around his sweaty and matted hair. What? Where… he looked around, and it took another breeze for him to locate it. Hidden in the shadowy part of the wall were handhelds, chiseled into the rock in such a way even he, with his ability to see in the gloomy building, had almost missed it. He gazed at them, then up, noting that the oddly sloped roof actually had a hole in it. The handhelds led into it, and he could see them stop fifteen feet up.

He looked at his hands, then up, then back, and with a sigh, sat down. Who was he kidding? He couldn't get up there now, even if someone offered him a legendary card for it.

As his body relaxed, he felt a gnawing pain in his stomach. Hunger. It was something he had grown used to over the years, but it surprised him how fast it started. Until then, he'd only been slightly peckish. But now? As his stomach rumbled, he wondered how the others were doing.

As he relaxed, he had to keep from falling asleep, but the room was cozily warm, gloomy, and quiet, and his chin kept dropping to his chest.

A soft rumble shook the entire room, tiny debris dropping on his head, and Irwin snapped awake. His body was aching, his legs numb… but he actually didn't feel as bad as he had before. A distant rumble shook the pillar.

What is going on? Are they still fighting? That made little sense. He must have slept for a long time because his mind felt sharp. He instantly missed Daubutim. No more easy way of knowing how long he had left.

Dust hung in the air around him as he got up and felt another shudder run through the building.

Up or back, he thought. Then he tried to imagine finding his way back through the maze-like building and shrugged. Up it was. I hope Greldo and the others died quickly, he thought, not something he'd ever imagined thinking before.

As he put his first hand into a handheld and pulled himself up, his arm shook but held, and he gingerly continued, stopping each time another shaking happened.. He had to pause halfway to catch his breath but eventually pulled himself over the edge into a hallway rife with dust and tiny debris. It was barely high enough for him to stand and lead away into the darkness, seeming to curve left.

Twenty feet in, he reached an interaction, and a quick look showed it was short and ended in a handheld endowed wall, similar to where he had climbed up along. A soft rumble came from above.

He licked his lips, dry and cracked but not yet bleeding, and shivered. He had no idea where he was going… What if there was some demon spider ready to jump him? After a moment's hesitation, he turned back to the long curving hallway. He focused on his card, summoning the finger-sized flame, then moved down the hallway, ready to hit anything that came his way with the flame.

The corridor seemed to go on forever, always curving left and down. He thought about stopping and going back a few times, but where to? The Imp city, all alone? He shivered at the thought.

At some point, a pleasant warmth began coming from the wall. When it continued to increase, Irwin stopped and pressed his hand on the stone to his side. It was hot, though not enough to hurt him. As he looked at it, he frowned.

I wonder if the others would have been able to stand the heat, he thought as he looked at his flame.

Ever since he'd gotten it, he'd not really had trouble with anything hot. An image of how he was burned by the lava flashed through his mind, and he shivered. Right, almost nothing hot. He had no idea how long he walked, but the temperature kept increasing, and at some points, a soft orange glow came from parts of the wall. A soft rumble came from above, but it was so distant that he mostly only felt it through the soles of his feet.

Wait… feet? A quick inspection showed the soles of both of his feet were almost completely gone, just some charred edges remaining at the sides to show they truly had been there. Irwin ducked and put his hand on the ground. It was warm… hot even… But this hot? He gently put a tiny part of his sleeve on the ground.

Flames flared up, and his sleeve instantly caught fire. Irwin yelped and yanked it back, slapping it against his leg to stop the burning. When it stopped, he had burn marks on his pants, a jagged hole in his sleeve, and even more respect for his own card.

I'm not impervious to fire, he thought as he saw a few small red marks on his hand where it had touched the fire. But it's close.

He continued down the corridor until he finally saw an end to the blasted thing, or so he hoped. A bright glow began to cover one side. A soft bubbling and dripping came from there, and he quietly headed forward. The light was so bright he didn't worry that his flame might draw any attention, and he felt more secure with it out.

As he stepped around the last part of the angle obscuring his path ahead, Irwin stopped. The tunnel widened rapidly, and beyond it, a landscape of black rock and small waterfalls of molten rock filled a massive cavern that dwarfed even the one he'd been in before. Clouds of dark smoke hung in the air, billowing from vents in a chaotic maze of black rock.

In the middle of a lake of molten stone was a piece of land, and upon it stood a glowing red anvil the size of a house. Curled up, with wings covering its head, lay a fat Imp. From this distance, it was hard to gauge its size, but it was easily bigger than the one that had attacked his friends above. As frightening as it was and as imposing as the anvil, neither was what made Irwin's eyes gleam.

A red sphere hung from a chain attached to the top of the anvil, glowing brighter even than the molten rock.

The Linchpin! Irwin thought. It had to be, right?

Taking a look at the -he hoped- sleeping Imp, he inspected a crumbling, narrow path that led towards the island. It started not too far from him, down a slope and near one of the lava waterfalls. To get there, he'd have to move out in the open, and he shivered.

If I get it… do I get a card? And what if I go in again and get it again? Two? As his mind began imagining having two cards, a tiny seed of greed grew into a raging flame. Two more cards, and he could become a full hand! His chances of surviving would increase so much…

Licking his bleeding lips, he moved out of the wide and tapered tunnel exit, looking left and right. There was no sign of any more imps. If he could sneak up on the big one… would his flame work? So far, it hadn't let him down, though he wished he could have grown it to its biggest size.

Unable to hold back, Irwin ran towards the nearest rock and hid. It was a short dash to the start of the narrow, winding bridge and then a five-minute trip. But if he succeeded!

Think before you act! His mother's voice seemed to echo from the depths of his mind, her face disappointed as she shook her head after he'd done something foolish again. Irwin shook his head. He was doing it again… Calm down, calm down, he hissed to himself, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

When he finally felt the incessant urge to run towards the Imp die down, he opened them again. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

Slowly he moved back from the rock to a higher position and began thoroughly inspecting his surroundings. The chances of there being only one Imp here seemed odd, and as some could fly, perhaps they were hiding.

Ten minutes later, he had found half a dozen other tunnel openings in the wall, and the one he had checked was similar to the one he'd come from. What he hadn't found nor seen was movement outside of the molten rock. Calm and steady this time, he moved back to the start of the stone bridge, staring at the lava next to it.

What's the worst thing that can happen besides falling in that stuff again, he thought as he steeled himself and snuck forward.