Treasures of the Broken Garrison: Part 3- A Fantasy Short Story

(After fleeing from an angered spirit, Finhaus fell to a hidden trap door, taking him into the unknown. Where was it taking him, and what will he find under the belly of the haunted floors?)

Unable to think or process, Finhaus screamed as loud as he was able before his throat burned. He didn’t have time to do anything else until his landing met him with a loud splintering of wood.

Finhaus groaned and collected his awareness. The noisy landing came from the assortment of boxes and boards that broke his fall. He lied in an odd position partly on his back from his shoulders but with his left leg under him. He took a steady breath before gathering the courage to test his mobility for any terrible injuries.

“What happened?! Is anyone there…?”

His heart skipped a beat, but then realized he knew this voice. “Blair? Is that you?”

“What? Finhaus!” She cried back, but he couldn’t see anyone from his awkward angle. “Why are you here?”

He lifted himself up and poked his head around the obstacles, but saw only the old stone floor and ceiling. Wherever he was now, it was a lot dirtier and damp than where he was before. “Where are you?”

“In a cell around the corner,” came the reply.

He wanted to voice about ten other questions while also trying to escape the box he fell in, but something shifted, and the box and wood collection scattered further, sending him sliding down to the floor. At least he knew now that the fall didn’t leave him seriously injured.

A bar of wood gave him a final trip on his way out, but finally, he was free. Now that he was able to collect his surroundings from the correct position, he knew from the first iron cell ahead that he fell into the dungeon.

The musky, mildew scent was overpowering coming from the corners, and he wasted no time rounding the hall past a collection of forgotten equipment. Sure enough, the young human stood on the inside of a cell in the center to his right, her hands held onto the rusty bars as she watched him in growing hope.

In a subconscious dash, he reached and gripped either wrist to make sure she wasn’t a vision or ghost. “What happened? How did you get in here?”

Her wide, freckled expression looked as shocked as he felt. “I don’t know. The floor opened up.” She glanced up at the ceiling where he could see broken boards and a light somewhere above. “I tried to convince Queriven to stay away, but he said he couldn’t forgive himself if something happened to Kielle. I couldn’t stop him so I followed him in, but now… I don’t know where he is! One second, I was following him, the next, I was completely alone.” She gave the bars a good push. “And now I’m stuck here.”

Finhaus squeezed the bar and jiggled the door before giving his chin a scratch. “We can’t force it open with our bare hands, but maybe something else can…” He held up a hand to signal her to wait as he went back to the racks of old equipment by the wood he fell on. He rummaged through trash and broken furniture, pieces of armor and stained weapons before he came found a set of keys underneath a robe by a set of hooks.

Satisfied, he returned to Blair with a spring in his step and tested the first key… Blair remained patient but kept watching carefully as he tried one after the other, until, with a loud snap, his forth try broke inside the lock… He growled and rattled the door, but it stayed close.

“Finhaus, you should carry on and find the others. I’ll be fine here for now,” She tried to reassure him.

But he refused. He shook his head and turned back to the rummage in the hall. “No, I’m not doing that.” The farmer came stomping back with a heavy iron shield in less than a minute. In pure frustration, he rammed it into the cell door with an unpleasant metal clang. “I’ve,”

Clang!

“Come,”

Clang!

“Too,”

Clang!

“Far!”

And with the last clang, the door fell inward from the hinges and left the elf’s momentum rolling him into the cell and on the floor. Blair extended a hand to help him up. “Heavens, that worked!” She exclaimed.

“Where was the last time you saw Queriven?” Finhaus asked straight to the point as he straightened and brushed himself off.

“I wouldn’t know how to get back there now,” Blair admitted, giving him a quick hug. “Not that it matters with all the traps and strange things happening here. He could be anywhere.”

“I’ve been seeing things too,” Finhaus admitted. “The rumors about this garrison being haunted are true. I’ve encountered several odd spirits already, and no matter where I go, I feel like someone’s always watching me.”

“It’s worse than that,” Blair breathed like the idea stole her breath away. “It wants us gone or worse. Something was chasing me, and I’m sure it wanted to hurt me.”

“So you saw it too!” Finhaus yelled and beckoned outside the cell. “If the others still have a chance, we need to find them right away.”

Blair nodded and followed him as they marched quickly but carefully passed the other prison cells. Blair took note of the decay and bones in various cells and wondered how many brave and ignorant souls came looking for treasure only to expire in a forgotten dungeon. A haunting but thankful warmth grew within her knowing she wasn’t doomed to the same fate. It also grew tears of burning determination not to leave her other loved ones in this cursed place.

Finally, the climbed up a set of stairs to a heavy door. It was locked, but after struggling with the set of keys Finhaus found, they managed to get it open without any of them snapping off. The high whine of the door made Blair’s skin crawl, and she didn’t recover her senses before the dark hall before them lit their sconces aflame for no apparent reason.

“The torches outside the garrison had a habit of doing that for as long as I could remember. I never considered the ones inside might be doing it as well,” Finhaus responded.

Even with an explanation for the occurrence, it didn’t make them feel any better, not when they knew a violent force could be watching them at any moment. They took a few slow steps forward, each step sounding too loud as they watched for potential surprises.

“So,” Blair started with a whisper. “Let’s say we get attacked again. What’s the plan?”

Finhaus began with a roll of his shoulders, but still voiced an answer with a matched volume. “Whatever happens, we need to try to stick together. We can’t find a way out of this place if we keep losing each other.”

She nodded her agreement, though she wished they had a better defense than that. A hall cut in front of them, and once their feet were lined with carpet to soften their steps, they both relaxed a little more. Finhaus looked down each way. In one direction, the worn carpet ran to a set of doors and disappeared around the corner. In the other, the hall continued for a short while before it widen to a lounge of some sort. Out of his time here so far, this was the most “homey” Finhaus has seen of the garrison. Still too quiet and worn to be comfortable, there were dressers, chairs, pots with twigs and limp fiber, and what may be a fireplace in the open room. There was no telling where in the garrison they were now.

Blair sighed. “Where do we even look in this place? It’ll take us years to search for them like this!”

Finhaus decided on random and went to explore the collection of closed doors. “We don’t have any other option,” Finhaus concluded for his human ally. “I will look for them as long as it takes.”

Blair tried to grasp onto his hopefulness and stuck close to him as he settled on a door and went to open it. He hesitated for a second before pushing it open and stepping back to reveal… A dusty bedroom.

Finhaus then went for the next door, but Blair stopped him. “There are a lot of strange secrets about this place. What if we miss something?”

Finhaus was about to argue about it being nothing more than a simple bedroom, but he knew she had to be right. He eased past her and went inside. The single bed, while still standing on its wooden feet, looked like a tiny nudge could send it collapsing on the floor. The rug had frayed ends and holes, and Blair didn’t have long to ponder what caused so much damage in the fabric before Finhaus opened the closet door, sending a flock of mice running free from their nests and bringing exclaimed cries from the two.

Blair backed out, her nose wrinkling against the sour smell coming from the open closet. Finhaus left the bedroom door open and went for the next door, only to reveal an almost identical bedroom. He went inside to investigate, but Blair crossed her arms, again feeling overwhelmed about the possibility of finding their loved ones. She opened the next door and then the next. She wasn’t sure what she was searching for, but she wanted to see something… Anything that was different!

Finally, she was about to back away from one bedroom but stopped. She wasn’t sure how she missed the woman looking out of the far window. The longer she looked, the further it stretched, like the bedroom grew into a long horizon until the translucent woman turned and brought it back in perspective. It was hard to mentally collect a description of her features, but the light bouncing off and through her face collected a shine of cheeks wet with tears. It looked like she wanted to see something, but couldn’t put it into words. Instead, she gestured to the window with a sob. Blair took a step closer to see what she wanted her to see.

Again, perspectives shifted and the window engulfed her. At first, she could see nothing but the wild trees and darkness peering from the unknown, but then, she saw shadows of people out there. They flew in rushing movements and collided together. Blair wasn’t sure when the trees cleared away and changed to a clearing surrounded by the familiar stone wall encasing the trading post. Time reset to dusk, revealing the movement she saw was a terrible battle. At first she thought it was elf versus human, but she later saw them assisting one another against a particular opponent group. The enemy wore dark robes and hid most of their features.

Thieves. They wanted to rob the trade, and they were willing to kill for it. The defenders were trained and powerful, but so were the attackers. This wasn’t an impulse idea, but a planned attack, and they at least had enough on their side to hold it. While the main group engaged in battle outside, Blair saw others rushing closer, like they wanted inside. The rooms around her became full of orders and panic. She heard screams, cries, and singing weapons. Blood splashed from both sides and Blair began to reel backwards as the battle rang closer and louder in her ears. Finally, the group outside broke in and Blair spun away from the window, shutting her eyes and covering her ears from the terrible sounds.

She slammed into a table. The vase on top rattled and fell, shattering into pieces. The silence that fell with it took the remnants of the battle away. Blair stood alone, staring at the sharp edges of the shattered glass. She took the time to breathe until her senses calmed down and the present came back to her.

What happened? How long did that vision hold her? It seemed like only a minute passed by when the sounds of battle raged in her head, but why did it seem so quiet now? “Finhaus?” She called and turned around her. This room wasn’t familiar. No, this was not the bedroom she came in. This wasn’t a bedroom at all…

She swore she’s never been in this wide foyer before. How did she get here? She called for her companion again, but still no one answered. Spinning and looking around herself, she stepped and gripped the far rail and looked down at the floor below. Swearing they should have been on the ground floor, she studied the collapsed tables and strewn books.

At least she wasn’t trapped in a forgotten cell in the basement, but this strange incident still left her as good as lost. Once again she had no idea where to look, and now not only had to find Queriven and the lost elves, but had to locate Finhaus all over again… Will the garrison ever let them out? Will she even persist long enough to find all the others in the end?

End of Part 3

 (Part 3 coming next week, May 23, 2026. Thanks for reading!)

(No AI was used in any stage of writing this story.)