Chapter 678: Amber
Hearing Pittman’s words, Amber instinctively glanced at Gawain, who then spoke up on his own: “I can step aside—if you don’t want others overhearing.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Amber shook her head. “You’re sharp, and you always have unexpected insights. I want you here. Besides, this notebook… you should see it too.”
Gawain gave Amber a quiet look but didn’t refuse. He simply nodded slightly.
The courtyard by the fountain was too lively a place to delve into such secretive memories. The three of them left the bustling area and moved to a lounge on the first floor of Silverkeep. Amber carefully placed the worn notebook on the table and, in front of Gawain and Pittman, gingerly opened its fragile cover.
Inside, there were no ornate patterns or crests—none of the usual embellishments found in most noble handwritten books of this era. On the yellowed page was a simple sentence:
“To my daughter—may you be happy and safe when you read this.”
“Still so many words…” Amber pursed her lips but handled the pages even more delicately as she slowly turned to the first page.
It was a diary, written under extraordinary circumstances:
“…Day three inside the Shadow Fortress.
“As a Royal Shadowguard, I should not leave any written records during a confidential mission; it violates secrecy protocols. But the situation is unusual—I may not leave here safely. To warn and guide those who come after me, I’ve decided to document part of this journey.
“My name is Saril Randolf, a Royal Shadowguard. I was sent to the southern lands’ Dark Mountains to seek ancient relics on this land abandoned by gods and men alike.
“Unfortunately, I am trapped in a place called the ‘Shadow Fortress.’ I believe this is where the ancient relics lie buried…
“…According to prior intelligence, the Shadow Fortress does not exist in the reality we know. It is a domain carved out in the Shadow Realm by the ancient Gondor Empire using lost, advanced technology. It floats outside the mortal world, without a stable connection to the Shadow Realm itself. It is a drifting space, accessible only through specific gates and rituals…
“Some of my intel was correct: there is indeed a spatial node in the Dark Mountains leading to the Shadow Fortress. I activated the ritual at this node and successfully entered. But the intel was wrong about the ‘Shadow Signet Ring’ used to open the gate—it’s single-use. Or rather, I have found no way to recharge it.
“His Majesty the King gave me one of the two rings he possessed. Clearly, even he did not expect the ring to be usable only once to open the Shadow Fortress.”
After reading just these few passages, Amber couldn’t help but look up and exchange a glance with Gawain, who was also looking up.
“Shadow Signet Ring…” Amber instinctively touched the thin chain around her neck. Two antique rings hung from it—one still faintly glowing with magic, the other dull and lifeless.
The glowing ring was given to her by Francis II, while the dull one had been with Amber since childhood. Now, the origins of both rings were finally explained.
She lowered her head and continued reading the diary’s entries:
“…Though trapped, I must admire the ancient Gondor Empire’s incredible technology. The Shadow Fortress is beyond imagination—even the process of entering it is unbelievable. Standing at the correct magical convergence in the Dark Mountains, I only needed to infuse the ring with magic to open a gate to the Shadow Realm in normal spacetime. I suspect the ring merely sends a signal; the actual gate-opening is done by some facility within the fortress, but I have yet to find any clues…
“…This grand structure is forged from some artificial material, stronger than stone. It floats in a void, with no land connected. The sky here has no luminous celestial bodies, matching descriptions in Shadow Realm treatises…
“My current position is the fortress’s forecourt. I see a large door, but beyond it is pure, empty darkness—making one question the door’s purpose. On the limited platform before the door, I found strange pillars. I suspect they were meant to secure some kind of transport or mounts capable of traversing the Shadow Realm. The ancient Númenóreans must have had the ability to explore that void deeply—they were, after all, the all-powerful Númenóreans…
“At the other end of the courtyard stands the main building—a massive palace or fortress. I have explored only a small part of its entrance, and its scale astonishes me. Countless corridors and rooms, empty halls and warehouses… I cannot imagine how many people once worked and lived in this otherworldly facility. It is so vast that many could spend their entire lives here. If a child were born inside without proper education, they might never even know the outside world exists…
“Ah, my vivid imagination is only a distraction—it won’t get me out of this cursed place.”
Amber flipped through the pages, the quiet lounge filled only with the sound of turning paper and the steady breathing of the three.
“…Day four trapped.
“I’ve spent the past three days debating whether to venture deeper into the fortress. It carries extra risks: ancient defenses may still be active, and dormant relic guardians could awaken.
“Legend says the Violet Kingdom’s magical automaton guards can operate for six hundred years after their masters die. The famed Gondor iron soldiers likely last even longer…
“But I may have to take the risk. I’ve searched the courtyard and outer corridors for three days with no device to open a spatial gate. My food and water are dangerously low. Between starving, dying of thirst, or being beheaded by ancient guardians, the latter might be the kinder fate.
“I’m entering the inner corridors.
“…Day six, still trapped.
“This damned fortress—how can it be so huge?! How many corridors, rooms, halls does it have? Did the Númenóreans throw an entire city into the Shadow Realm?
“Their technology is so advanced—they built this fortress in the Shadow Realm, enabling thousands to live long-term in this other space. And I, a Royal Shadowguard from a thousand years later, can only wander aimlessly here, finding no clues. It’s deeply ironic.
“By the way, I’ve run out of water and food.
“Day seven, I found an empty room that may have been a research lab. There were rune-inscribed platforms and pipes and containers of unknown purpose. Sadly, none contained water.
“I must start preparing for the worst.
“Day eight, today’s keyword: moss.
“Yes, moss! In this fortress isolated for centuries, there is moss! In the Shadow Realm, no less!
“It grows in a lab-like room with many large tubular containers fixed to the floor. The containers are empty, but one’s outer wall and nearby walls and floor are covered with these tiny plants. Like everything else in the Shadow Realm, the moss is gray-black, almost indistinguishable from dirt at first. Thank heavens I lingered a bit longer in this room…
“Moss means moisture. Moisture means water.
“The moss tastes bitter and has a strange gelatinous texture. It’s probably not good for my health, but I can’t afford to care. Without it, I’d likely be dead within days.
“The moss restored some strength and provided enough moisture to lift my spirits, though not enough for long-term survival. I collected all the moss from a nearby pipe, squeezed out the juice, and stored it in my water flask. I’ll use this small supply as a base to explore surrounding rooms.
“Day nine, no water found, but… I saw a shadow!
“I can’t describe the shock I felt. I saw a figure dart from a corner of the room—I’m not sure if it was real.
“Could the moss be hallucinogenic? But I must rely on it to survive…
“Day ten, I found water! In what looks like a communal dining area, one pipe still flows with water! Clear water! I think I can survive here for a long time!
“The presence of clean water suggests some purification system is still running. Are there other systems still operational?”
Amber read every line carefully, biting her lip unconsciously, as if watching her foster father struggle to survive and explore that isolated ancient fortress. When Saril Randolf found the water source, she couldn’t help but exhale softly, “He might have found a usable mess hall…”
Gawain nodded slightly beside her, whispering, “I’m more curious about the shadow he saw.”
“Here he mentions—” Amber turned the page, scanning briefly before pointing to the text:
“…I saw shadows again, more than one this time. I can confirm they were not hallucinations, but what happened next left me even more shocked and confused.
“These shadows are ‘Shadow Dwellers.’
“They match descriptions in the treatises—ghostly, formless, wrapped in tattered ‘shrouds’ shaped like humans. They move freely in the Shadow Realm and clearly noticed me, an unwelcome intruder.
“I prepared for battle, but none came. All records say Shadow Dwellers attack any material beings entering the Shadow Realm, yet these simply stared at me coldly. I’m certain they were watching, though inside those shrouds was only hollow darkness…
“After an unbearable standoff, the Shadow Dwellers left. There was no communication.
“I have no idea what just happened.”
Amber frowned. She found these Shadow Dwellers strange too but couldn’t explain it. She pushed the questions aside and continued reading—
On the next page, Saril Randolf’s writing chronicled more of his time in the Shadow Fortress:
“…Day fourteen, I found a room with some devices still running.
“I can hardly describe what I saw—it’s beyond my knowledge. Around a massive pillar, numerous pale yellow, translucent egg-shaped containers were fixed to racks. Each container was roughly the size of a full-grown bull…
“Many pipes extended from the large pillar, connecting to the surrounding egg-shaped containers.”
“Almost all the containers were damaged—cracked, warped, toppled onto the floor—and their contents had long since dried up. Inside those broken vessels, I saw countless tiny bones.
“It sent a chill down my spine. As a royal shadowguard, I’ve witnessed many tragic scenes, many deaths, but those tiny skeletons inside the containers were far more eerie and unsettling than anything I’d seen before. It made me question what exactly the people of Gondor were doing here back then.
“With shock and unease, I searched the room—and then I found her.
“The only intact container, the only living being.
“She was curled up inside some kind of liquid, floating in a translucent crystal vessel. It looked just like a piece of amber.
“I can’t even describe how I felt at that moment. What unsettled me even more was that these crystal containers matched the description of the target item in my mission perfectly. That meant…the ‘thing’ inside the container was the ‘ancient relic’ I was supposed to retrieve.
“My mission could be completed—but only if I could figure out how to get out of here, carrying this baffling container with me. If I opened it recklessly, would the little girl inside die instantly? It was a delicate problem.”
Amber’s eyes remained fixed on the page before her. Even though she had finished reading it, she didn’t turn to the next page. Only after a full minute did Gawain gently tap her shoulder.
Startled, Amber took a deep breath and finally turned the page—
“…Day fifteen. I still haven’t figured out what to do, but I suddenly realized it’s pointless to think too much: I’m still trapped here.
“A person who can’t even get out alive has no business worrying about completing a mission. That’s just wishful thinking gone too far.
“For now, I’m setting aside the problems I can’t solve and refocusing on finding a way out.
“Considering that for a long time to come, the only company I’ll have is this little one inside the amber, I gave her a name—Amber.
“But I suspect she has another name. Each of these egg-shaped containers has a line of letters engraved on its base, and each container’s letters differ slightly. Those might be their real names—though I doubt the Gondorian scholars who worked here actually named their test subjects. But these inscriptions are in ancient Gondorian script from a thousand years ago, very different from today’s common alphabet, and ancient languages are not my strong suit.
“All I can do is copy down these letters. If I ever manage to get out alive, maybe the scholars in the capital can help me understand, reveal this little one’s true name—or at least tell me what the Gondorians called her back then.”
At the bottom of the page, Saril Randolf left a large blank space. In that space, he had written a line of bold letters—letters so ancient that few in this age could read them.
Amber stared at those letters for a long moment before looking up into Gawain’s eyes. “What do these letters mean? What was my original name?”
Gawain looked away from the letters and silently studied Amber for four or five seconds. Then he sighed softly and spoke slowly:
“Artificial Human Number Thirty-Six.”
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(The End of this chapter)