Treasures of the Broken Garrison: Part 6- A Fantasy Short Story

(With heroes found and scattered again, the survivors are forced to deal with their own problems brought up by the mysteries of the garrison. Every answer brings about new questions and battles. Will they find their way back together?)

Finhaus half expected a knock at the door from Kielle at some point, but he knew not to raise his hopes that high. After all, the door before him was locked tight, and whatever spirit chose to do that would also make sure the staircase was hidden again.

At first, Finhaus thought it was meant to seal him and Awhn inside, but now he had a different idea on his mind. As he strolled down the aisles and browsed the vast collection of shiny gems, bars, and tools, he realized the ghosts still roaming these halls were not violent without reason. Come to think of it, most of the ones he met were not seeking harm at all, though may still be wishing to give him a stern warning.

Like the one he met before the fireplace… That one accused him of entering the garrison for the sole purpose of finding treasure. No, whatever closed them in here didn’t want to keep them in, but to keep others out. Like Kielle…

Finhaus stopped and picked up a rock that was at eye level. When he turned it over, he saw it wasn’t a rock at all, but a precious geode. A cluster of jagged blue crystals shimmered at him with every slight movement of the wrist. The farmer stared and sighed. All of his life, elves around him still believed the garrison had an old stack of treasure within its walls. The rumors spread far and long enough that it would entice certain bold individuals into entering the garrison, never coming back out again.

This, the very thing he held in his palm, this ball of crystal that glittered in a way he’s never seen before, was only a small part of that treasure he heard tales about. Should he be in awe? Finhaus didn’t know, but he did know one thing; the treasure was real, and people died looking for it.

The farmer scoffed and put the geode back where he found it. To people outside, the garrison seemed shrouded in mystery. It was the true tale of adventure and danger, but Finhaus wanted no more to do with it. He didn’t care about the temptation of treasure, adventure, or heroic tales. He only wanted to be home on the farm again, surrounded by people he loved.

With nothing but the stone wall, and a worn tapestry faded beyond recognition, in front of him, Finhaus stopped, turned around, and sighed. Was there even a way out from in here? His eyes scanned the crates, wagons, and stacks. against it all, he spotted Awhn leaning still against the wall he left her at. Her eyes were closed and he could see her chest rising and falling calmly from here. The position looked all but comfortable. At least she could catch a bit of sleep.

He hasn’t thought about it until now, but seeing her like this also reminded him how tired he was as well. If he had stayed home, he’d imagine he would be wrapped in his blankets, safe in his room. Even with him gone, he wondered how many creatures outside looked to his home for an escape from the cold… Of course, he wasn’t there to welcome them inside, but several of his old friends knew they were welcome anytime and would come though the windows. The forest wasn’t far into its cold season, but there were already nests built into his shelves and corners. The thought of home even now inhabited with animals resting safely in his living room made his eyes heavy.

Finhaus stepped forward and rested his arms on the half-wall that framed the aisle and cradled his head in his sleeves. His vision made the room tilt to the side. His eyes settled here and there on the smaller details of the room. He spied specific bars of gold. It was a lovely, loud color, but the shine still didn’t compare to the elves’ harvested starlight. The elf wondered how many humans entered the garrison for it. How did their taste for the treasure and stories compare to his people? Finhaus didn’t know, but humans don’t live as long as elves do, right? Maybe the garrison would be even more tempting and mysterious to them.

With his nose buried in his sleeve, the farmer smelled nothing but dust and earth, reminding him, in this room, they were locked away somewhere deep beneath the earth, where no noise penetrated the thick stone walls. As his mind continued to wander towards thoughts of sunshine, he tried to focus on the room by counting the bricks in the wall, ceiling, and wherever he saw them, but that only made him more tired.

But to be fair, Finhaus wasn’t sure if he slept or how long he slept if he did. He only knew that, instead of counting bricks, he was staring at the weapons rack on the far wall. Stacks of boxes and other containers blocked his view of some of the wall, but he would see axes and spears lining neatly along it…

His cheek still pressed up against his sleeves, he squinted as he studied the tools. He couldn’t tell what it was from this angle, but something about the rack seemed odd. Finhaus stood up straight and paused to give his back a quick stretch before going to investigate.

As his view of the rack adjusted, the stacks and treasures moving out of the way for him to see the full collection of royal armor and moonlight trims, the oddity he spotted on the rack seemed less obvious as he came closer. At first, he doubted his sleepy mind saw anything unusual, then he was grateful he spotted it at all. Finhaus tilted his head and leaned against the wall. From here, he could see the nails and attachments connecting the racks to the wall. Some of the heavier pieces of armor and weapons were standing against a rack on the floor, with the lighter, more common pieces on the wall.

Finhaus stood there for a while, browsing at the equipment and bars making up the rack until he finally spotted what he saw earlier. From close up, it looked like another attachment going into the wall, but this joint was bigger and heavier. Not just that, but why was it the only one for the rack that was sitting on the floor?

Finhaus meandered to the front of the display. Before him on the floor rack was a line of fancy, heavy-looking axes. The iron blades were sharp and reflected a bit of light, though they still seemed unremarkable compared to the lovely set of moonlight daggers on the wall rack above them.

Taking a careful look before settling, Finhaus touched the long handle on one of the axes. His fingers danced around it until they bumped into something. The strange joint connecting to the wall… It was attached to the axe?

Finally, with a firm grip, Finhaus pulled as if to remove the weapon. It moved back, but stopped with a clang, and a heavy shifting sound of stone on stone played somewhere within the wall behind the collection. The elf stood back, alert.

Soon, the sound changed direction, and Finhaus jumped from the far wall moving down until it disappeared into the floor, revealing a room beyond. The commotion woke Awhn, who was sleeping next to the hidden doorway. The soldier sat up and blinked at the reveal before slowly rising to her feet.

Finhaus moved to greet her. He wove away the dust that stirred from the wall and peered through. It was a foyer, the same foyer Kielle was in a while ago. The chairs and tables were still turned over from her visit. “How did you do that?” Awhn asked.

Finhaus looked at her, instead growing focused on how she held her side. “Are you going to be able to go on with that?”

She looked down and released her hold as if she didn’t know what he was referencing. “I’ll be fine. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but most of the pain is gone.”

Finhaus nodded his welcome and stepped through. “We can slow down anytime we need to.”

She followed his lead and stepped beside him. Once they were both on the other side, the wall returned, scraping up and hiding once again the hidden mound of treasure. The two exchanged intrigued looks before Finhaus let the notion drop forgotten. “Come on, let’s find the others.”

◊◊◊

Time bore heavily on her shoulders and Blair had to take moments now and then to steady herself. Queriven was waiting for her, and it didn’t seem right to leave him out there while she looked for the others. The sooner she finds them, the better, but she mustn’t let the rush blur her perception. If something happens to her now, she may never reach him again.

She stopped in a wide, stone room near the entrance where this all began and looked around at all of her possible options. The closer to the entrance, the more damage the garrison showed. Stacks of crates were reduced to mere debris, and the few rugs and furniture near this wing were almost torn beyond recognition. Blair didn’t consider the differences until she saw how furnished and full it was further in the garrison, but now that she’s been through it all, the sight was odd to her. The destruction made it almost seem like a different place entirely.

Here it was, the main expanse she passed when running after Queriven. Old wooden doors gave access to all other wings here, and had the stone stairs remained intact, she would have access to the wings upstairs as well.

Her heart began to beat faster as she examined the damage around her, almost as if she could see the thieves and explorers breaking in and seeking treasure, not knowing they would later fall to the many traps further in.

Her thoughts were interrupted only by a rumbling thud from nearby. Raising her guard, Blair looked about herself, expecting an anomalous gust of wind or mist to follow it any second, but nothing. She hated that her first instinct told her to leave as soon as possible. That would have been the smartest idea, but she would never find the others if she did that. She had to investigate…

Another lit hallway. Another dark room. She could have sworn she spotted movement as she opened the door. She didn’t get to see what it was, but it blew by and blended with the shadow in the room. Blair took a step closer. The darkness seemed to swallow any light trying to cross the doorway. She couldn’t see anything, save for a moldy carpet, which she stepped on before stopping with the chill urging her instincts to stop.

She opened her mouth to call out, but stopped. Something she hated more than her instinct telling her she was falling for a predictable trap was the addition that she was opening herself up to it; unprepared and defenseless.

Blair shifted her focus to the sconce on the wall and went to lift it. It caught in its holder with a clang and refused to budge after that. Blair struggled, resisting its attempt to leave her without a light.

Little did she know how open she was then, when a weapon came out swinging from the dark, stopping only inches from her head. “Blair?!” Yelled an angry Kielle, withdrawing the weapon and stepping into the light. The human had flinched and now was cautiously opening her eyes as if convinced doing so would put her in danger again.

Kielle planted a hand on her hip. “Exactly how many people came in looking for me? Because I’m thinking it’s a lot.”

She wasn’t prepared for Blair to stay silent, instead rushing forward and grasping her in a hug. “I’m so happy I found you,” she cried. Stunned, Kielle could do nothing but give her a slow pat on the shoulder.

Finally, after a minute too many, Blair released her and stepped back. “But you’re alone. Do you know where the others are?”

“Not really. The last time I talked to Finhaus and Awhn, they were down in a hidden room in the basement somewhere. They told me to look for a closet with a staircase in it, but I tried everything. I can’t find it, and they’ve probably moved by now. I don’t know.”

Blair began to respond and explain with her experience, but Kielle only listened to the first word before she grabbed her by the shoulders, face wide in alarm. “Please tell me this doesn’t mean Queriven’s here too! Is he all right?”

Blair blinked, double sided with confusion between her random concern and how she may have known that bit of information. “He’s in the courtyard. He fell from a window and hurt his leg, but he’s safe out there for now. Why are you so worried?”

Kielle seemed to take a breath to calm herself, but kept her hands on Blair before gesturing past her, where a closed door was. Blair waited as Kielle pushed it open and strode in. “I’m not sure who wrote this, but I know it wasn’t here for long.”

Blair followed her inside to see a study of sorts with large windows above them, casting moonlight into the dusty air. In the center of the room lay a piece of paper, probably torn from somewhere in a rush. It didn’t blend with the stains on the table. If it weren’t in the center of the table like it expected someone to read it, or if it was surrounded by books or other junk, it would have seemed unremarkable. Something about this was expectant, fresh, and attention-seeking.

“I was trying to think of who it might be, but…” Kielle continued, mostly to herself as Blair leaned for a closer look. “Now that I think of it, this doesn’t sound like Queriven at all. I know his handwriting quite well.” Kielle looked away, embarrassed from the panic she displayed earlier. “Guess I spoke before logic hit. I-” She trailed off before she could dig further.

Meanwhile, Blair scanned over the writing. They reminded her of the letter she found shortly before she saw Queriven from the courtyard window. “I’ve found one of these before,” she spoke aloud, holding the paper up, but not looking away. “I wonder if it’s the same person.”

Kielle shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds like they were looking for someone.”

Finally, Blair tore away and met her gaze. “Do you have any idea who this might be?”

The elf woman shook her head. “There were a lot of people lost here fifty years ago. That’s a shorter time frame for elves and there are still many in Sylinna who remember when this happened, but I don’t know of anyone recently who came in with a loved one.” She took a second to breathe and allow the silence before finally deciding they poured over the subject enough. “I guess it doesn’t matter to us. They aren’t in our group.”

Blair hung her head. They had enough problems as it was, but she couldn’t help but feel the sadness creeping from the ink into her fingers. She couldn’t move past how unfair it was that the garrison had such a tragic history and yet continued to claim lives, but what could be done about it?

Blair sighed and laid the letter back on the table. “I suppose you’re right. We need to focus on finding the others.” She turned to Kielle, who waited patiently for her thoughts. “You said you talked to Finhaus in the basement. Who else do we need to find?”

Kielle shifted her weight and looked up at the ceiling. “I came in with Elora and Awhn as we followed Therin. Finhaus, you, and Queriven came in after. Assuming Awhn is still with Finhaus, Queriven is still outside, and you didn’t bring anyone else in here with you, we only to find them and Therin. Elora is gone. Rest her soul.”

“So what do we do now?”

Kielle pursed her lips. “For the life of me, I can’t find that staircase! Instead of wasting our time, let’s go back down to the basement and see if they’re still there. Maybe they got tired of waiting and left without me. I would.”

Blair was about to agree, but was interrupted by an angry voice not too far away. Kielle moved around her companion for the door. “Let’s get moving. That thing’s been chasing me for a while now.”

Blair followed behind her without a word. Once in the hall, Kielle started talking about her experience in the haunted place, how Therin wouldn’t listen to a word any of them said, how torches lit up and dimmed with no warning, and how she thought she finally caught up to Therin before realizing it was nothing but an illusion that drew her into a trapped room. She said in her panic to escape blades and spikes that sprang up to cut her into ribbons, she thought she heard a crying woman who thanked her before the door mysteriously unlocked. Or was the door always unlocked? That would be rather embarrassing, considering she almost died in there.

Blair listened and nodded before her heart wandered back to Queriven. She hoped he wasn’t too cold out there alone… When she finally checked back in to reality, she realized Kielle wasn’t beside her, but behind. Blair stopped and turned around, finding Kielle frozen in a half-step, staring at the wall. They were in the main wing again, and Blair followed her gaze to a worn painting hanging crooked on the wall. “What is it?”

Kielle blinked. “…I saw him. He talked to me.”

Blair moved to stand beside her. Something about the man was familiar, and human, to her surprise. His jaw was slightly rounded, but very strong, and while he did not smile, the painting had a mischievous gleam in his eye for good or bad. Flashbacks dragged Blair to the past in an instant, and she knew where she had seen him before, or at least, someone related to him. “That’s King Brenmore.”

End of Part 6

(Part 7 coming next Saturday, June 13, 2026. Thanks for reading!)

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