The terrible sounds of stone smashing against stone thundered throughout the ancient monastery in a steady rhythm. Were they not the sounds of the eminent destruction of his brothers, Cylan might have stopped a moment to listen to the heavy beating. He did pause a moment, however, to catch his breath. His bones ached and his lungs burned, protesting the unusually harsh strain he was placing on them. He was a priest, accustomed to long hours studying and practicing by candlelight, interrupted only when he joined his brothers in the Great Hall for meals and for a few hours of sleep most nights.
Cylan pressed a frail looking, bony hand against the wall and leaned on it for support. He could feel the cold sweat dripped down his neck and back, making his thick, velvet robes cling to him like a spider's webbing. Another thunderous boom reverberated through the halls, causing the priest's knees to tremble. As loosened dust rained down upon him, Cylan covered his mouth with the sleeve of his robe and coughed. Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, Cylan resumed his run down the halls, desperately seeking his master's chamber.
Closing his eyes as he neared the door to his master's chamber, Cylan prayed to the goddess of death that his brothers would at least be able to hold the warlord back long enough to buy him precious time. He knew that several of them were already busy spiriting away as much of the vast library as they could, hoping to save as much of their knowledge from the flames that would undoubtedly come.
"Just a little longer, brothers," he said as he stopped before the large wrought iron door. Cylan sighed with relief as he saw that the door had not been breached. His master was inside. His master was alive. Cylan fumbled in an inner pocket of his robe, withdrawing a long, black key that matched the door. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned it twice. The lock clicked and, with a heavy creaking, Cylan pushed the door inward. As another stone smashed into the walls, making the monastery tremble, Cylan slipped into the darkness that waited for him beyond the door and pushed it closed behind him.
A gentle silvery light shone through a large opening in the furthest corner of the room, casting eerie shadows across the chamber. Cylan returned the key to his pocket and walked briskly through the chamber. Despite the direness of the situation, Cylan could not help by be impressed by the chamber, as he always was.