Page 67 of Dark Prince's Captive

He jumps to his feet and stands at attention when he notices us.He looks frightened and ill at ease.

“This site is off limits to the public,” Aruan says as he stops in front of a huge rock that’s rolled in front of the porthole.“These artifacts are precious.We’ve lost too many of them through plundering and wars.Hence, people can visit the inside only once a year, on a special day, and permission must be obtained in the form of a permit well in advance.”

And he’s brought me here, just like that.I suppose when you’re the future king, you have special privileges.

Aruan focuses on the entrance.The rock parts, forming a huge gap to let us through.

The guard looks on with round eyes, his pointed chin trembling.Although I’m just as awed, I try hard not to show it.Aruan’s power to open stone walls never grows old or less intimidating.I wish I knew how it worked, how it is that he’s able to break the molecular bonds with his mind.

We’re still standing arm in arm.I thought Aruan was holding on to me so firmly because he thinks I’ll take flight the minute he gives me freedom.But I’m proven wrong when he detangles our arms and stands patiently at a small distance.Apparently, he’s not worried that I’ll get away.I don’t want to analyze what that says about him keeping our arms interlinked.I don’t want to think that he could simply like to touch me.

“After you,” he says, motioning at the opening in the rock.

Too curious to decline the invitation, I step inside the cave-like room.It’s much cooler inside but not less humid.The air smells of wet soil and fungus.

A torch in a holder against the wall catches fire.I give a start, but Aruan only smiles and shrugs, saying without words that this is just another one of his incredible powers.

Turning my attention to the room, I look around in the light of the torch.The ceiling is low.I can stand up straight, but Aruan has to bend his tall body to prevent his head from bumping on the stone ceiling.He ushers me toward the back that, to my surprise, opens up into a narrow tunnel.

A distant hum reaches my ears, almost like chanting.

Aruan goes ahead through the tunnel, taking my hand to help me through.On the other side, more torches light up, illuminating a few steep steps.

We follow them down into another room.On closer inspection, I realize it’s a cist, a stone enclosure buried beneath the ground.

At the far end stands a stone altar with various items arranged on top of it.Men wearing white tunics and pants are kneeling in front of the altar in what seems to be some kind of prayer, which explains the chanting.

“What is this place?”I whisper, more to myself than to Aruan.

“We don’t know,” he says behind me, his breath fanning the hair on my nape and sending a tingle down my spine.“All we know is that we need to preserve the scrolls.They’re fragile.Many of them have already been destroyed.”

I expected actual rolls of paper or leather with writing captured on it, but the translucent pyramids in different sizes displayed on the altar don’t look anything like scrolls.They seem to glow from within, transmitting light that projects on the dark, polished surface of the stone walls.The light fragments, like in a kaleidoscope, and then reassembles to form short flashes of a video that run across the walls.The colors are faint and the pictures distorted, making it difficult to decipher what it’s showing.Then the light breaks down and reshapes again, and a different video clip plays in a staccato pulsing of RGB colors.

Spellbound, I stare at the images flashing on the walls.“These are the scrolls?”

“The priests believe they contain messages,” Aruan says.“Various prophecies left behind for us.The guardians of the scrolls devote their lives to preserving them and to interpreting the messages they contain.”

The kneeling men show no awareness of our presence.They continue to chant in their trance-like state, their eyes fixed on the walls and their faces lit in the colors of the strange projections.

“Do they live here, these priests?”I ask, watching them in fascination.

“Pretty much.Villagers bring them water, food, and other necessities.People believe they will be blessed if they take care of the priests and therefore of the scrolls the priests are tasked with preserving.”

I wrinkle my nose.“What about bathing and toilet breaks?”

Aruan smiles.“The priests have a separate exit through the roof of the temple that’s hidden from sight.No one knows exactly where it is or where it comes out.There are many tunnels hidden behind a secret opening.That’s where they have their living quarters.The river that feeds into the lake sends bathing water into the temple via a vein that runs underground.”

“What about removing their garbage?”At Aruan’s frown, I explain, “Their waste products.”

“They leave it at the entrance.The people who bring them food take it away.”

“But that means they live like moles,” I exclaim.

One of the men glares at me from over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” I say, making a face.I’ve clearly interrupted his concentration.

Aruan seems amused.“Moles?”

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