Trials of Incomplete Heroes: Forgotten Explorations
(Ported from Amazon Kindle Vella)

Author's Notes

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This is a companion piece to the Trials of Incomplete Heroes series. I recommend reading books 1-4 before this. A few characters in the novels are terrified of things from their past. Perhaps their fears are well founded.

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Tomb of the Lost Lands Journal Continued

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June 4th

 

Something very strange happened today. First of all, I am pleased to announce that my rough translations of the inscriptions discovered yesterday were largely correct. I do have to sadly report that I missed the Fenrir carving on the “Usurper’s” robe. And here I thought I was doing so well.

 

All that aside, we may have accidentally uncovered something else, something much stranger than anything we have seen. In the process of attempting to collect skeletal samples in the “usurper’s chamber”, one of our crew bumped against the hydra heads on the statue. The heads swung back like levers.

 

The spear slid out of the statue’s hand into a hole in the ground. Prior to this, I had thought that the spear was simply resting in an indentation in the ground to give the illusion that the spear had been thrust through the floor. Apparently, it was a stone tube, and the statue was keeping it from falling in. The mechanism seems fairly advanced, especially for the era that we think this was carved in.

 

After quite a while of listening to stone grind against stone, the spear ended its journey with a loud boom resembling a large drum strike. It started as a loud rumble then built in intensity as the whole chamber shook. We all stumbled, attempting to exit the room. Before we did, the wall directly opposite to the doorway collapsed. Everything went deathly still after that.

 

We were all fortunate in that no one was hurt by the event, and I believe we have uncovered something ... strange? The hole in the wall revealed a small chamber, no larger than three men wide and only a foot taller than myself. In it, stands a white statue of a woman, arms outstretched and her eyes downcast as if in sorrow. I say this is odd because, for the life of me, I can’t determine what she is hewn from. It appears to be some sort of white sandstone that shimmers in the light. And yet, it’s a lot stronger and smoother than most sandstone I have seen. It isn’t marble either.

 

The woman herself doesn’t look human. She’s draped in a long, hooded, robe, but her face is clearly seen, unlike the Sér statue. Horns protrude from her temples and arc downward to point to each other below her chin. Her fingers end in claws. And her feet ... her long finger-like clawed toes jut out from under the robe. I wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley ... or a well-lit one either.

 

An inscription on the pedestal she stands on reads, in ancient Greek, “Hand of the stars (or constellations). She who was queen of what is now destroyed. In exile was warden over Sér. Now mourns for what must come.” Another inscription on the wall reads, “Coerced and tormented by the first, betrayed by the second, decimated by the third, in the fourth found exile, she caused division in the rest. The enemy of Sér, blesser of Halun.” I guess whoever she is supposed to be, Sér hated her. If she doesn’t like Sér, she was probably a decent person. Sounds like she was a queen but had a real rough time of it.

 

We also found multiple inscriptions on the wall in several languages. As far as we can speculate at this time, most of them say the same thing, “Chaos”. I know that the ancient Greeks believed that “Chaos” was some sort of a primordial force or deity from which sprang everything. Is this supposed to be a representation of her? The large inscription does mention that “Chaos cursed” Halun and Sér. Is that supposed to mean that this “Queen” cursed them or are they simply referring to the concept of chaos in the same way we do. Either way, this “Queen” blessed Halun rather than cursing him. Maybe it’s a problem of perspective? Some blessings can often be curses and vice-versa.

 

Here again we see references to numbers. We know that Sér is the ninth. So, are the references to the first, second, third, and fourth also references to those in the same status as Sér? Did they come before Sér? Why didn’t they like this “Queen”. Were all in the numbered order nasty people like Sér? If that is the case, I think I’m going to root for Halun and this “Queen”. Seems like she may have had something to do with Sér being in the abyss unless I misunderstand the, “In exile was warden over Sér” line.

 

I would have liked to have stayed longer to examine everything, but our lighting equipment failed on us. We formed a chain, each with one hand on the shoulder of the lad in front and carefully walked to the exit. We all made it out; though, not without incident. The last fellow out, upon surfacing, kept asking where the man behind him was. We counted and recounted, all of us returned this time. There couldn’t have been anyone else down there. This poor fellow insisted someone had his hand on his shoulder and followed closely behind as we made our way out. From his description, it was a heavy hand with quite a strong grip.

 

I must say, the imagination is a terrible thing when left to its own devices. No doubt stories brought back from our first rescues and the disappearance of one of us didn’t help the situation. When the lights go out down there, it’s next to impossible to discern anything with your eyes. Your body automatically strains itself, trying to hear or feel anything. That, combined with ghost stories, is surely a recipe for hallucination.

 

I asked the crew on the ship if they had felt or detected the rumbling that collapsed the wall below. One of the crew mentioned he had felt the ship rock back and forth a bit more vigorously than usual. However, that hardly proves anything. We radioed around to see if there had been any earthquakes in the surrounding areas at that time. We were informed that there was no seismic activity detected. Oh well, what happened, happened and no one was injured ... this time.

 

June 5th

 

We received word in the night that there were, in fact, some minor seismic tremors. However, they had occurred after our previous inquiry and took place under central Asia. The radio operator said that they would have hardly mentioned it if it weren’t for the strange pattern they saw.

 

Several other places detected minor seismic activity as well. Each episode lasted only a few seconds. I’m told that the location and timing of the activity suggests that it’s moving in a straight line, and we are in the path. I’m not too worried, they have all been minor and short-lived. I have not informed many about this as I don’t desire to cause more panic than is due. Everyone is already on edge.

 

We were visited by our hooded friends again. They circled around us while one of them shouted at us that we would bring doom on ourselves if we stayed. Some of our crew became nervous. Thankfully, our visitors left before too long, probably to pester someone else out sailing. I laughed them off and told everyone to ignore them. I would be lying if I said they didn’t make me nervous. I had the ship’s guards check their rifles in case of trouble. I don’t suspect any, but I want to be ready, just in case.

 

I didn’t return to the caverns today. Our engineering crew is busy upgrading our systems. We are trying our best to avoid further equipment failures. This did give me plenty of time to consult with Doctor Deshmukh about the findings from yesterday. I was informed that my translation of the inscription on the “Queen” statue was inaccurate. A better translation for the initial portion would be, “Hand of the Zodiac.”

 

That wasn’t the only thing the good doctor informed me of. In fact, we had quite the long discussion. It appears the Queen statue and the chamber are new. Or at least a lot newer than the other chambers and statues. The experts believe they see the same indications of young age as the last few sentences on the main inscription. No one is able to confidently say for sure. Nor can they determine what the statue is made of.

 

I must say, this is getting a little rich. Having an inscription from the 1800s appear in a chamber that has been sealed and underwater since the neolithic era was bad enough. We could at least claim that was a fluke or our measurements contain inaccuracies. There are many factors that could contribute to our false positive. However, having a new room, statue, and several inscriptions appear there in the 1800s through several other sealed doors and a wall.... I suppose if exploration and archaeology was easy, everyone would be doing it. There has to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Ever since we discovered this place, I have been in a constant state of perplexion.

 

June 6th

 

I think that I’m beginning to come down with some sort of hysteria. I hesitate to write what happened as I fear it may simply serve to reignite the flames of panic. However, I must write down what I saw as honestly as I can for the benefit of the future.

 

I reentered the tomb today. It greeted me with all of its musty glory. A voice in my head continuously warning me something was off. Maybe it was the new lighting? Maybe it was how everything was now placed for our cataloging? It felt as though I was stepping into another world. I should have left then and there.

 

I was examining the Queen statue further. I remember turning to grab the camera from my assistant (one of the crew who decided to help me examine the statue) only to realize that I was alone. I called out to him but received no answer. At first, I was annoyed. I called out to the others and they didn’t respond either. So, I went in search of them. There aren’t many places that any of them could have hidden for long. I was entirely alone in the tomb.

 

I found it odd. Safety practices insist that no one is ever down there alone. There are usually at least five of us at any given time. In retrospect, I should have looked at the diving helmet rack to verify, but logic in times of panic is scarce.

 

I figured that I should probably return to the ship if everyone else had. At this point I was both angry and in a panic. I was prepared to give everyone on-board what for. I returned to the queen statue chamber to retrieve my tools only to realize that neither my work things nor the statue were there. All the lights then went out. I heard the sound of stone scraping against stone and a cackling laugh. I screamed into the void that this was no longer funny, and they had all better stop this nonsense.

 

I blindly felt my way along the bitterly cold and clammy walls, hoping to find my way out. A blast of frigid air accompanied by the sound of an exhale pierced right through me and caused all hairs to stand on end. I tried to speak, to call out to whoever was there, but my words rushed back into my throat and nearly choked me. A tightness pressed against my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

 

As the tightness in my chest eased up and I could once again speak, an eerie faded purple light emanated from behind me. I turned to see the queen statue standing in its usual place, now glowing. She was staring at me, right at me. Tears, actual tears, streamed down her face. I have to admit, I lost all semblance of grace and courage as I yelped like a child and ran from the chamber. My assistant caught me at the entrance to the usurper’s chamber and asked me what was wrong.

 

It took the rest of the party to restrain me. When I finally calmed down, I saw that everything was back to normal. Everyone who should have been there was there. I must have dreamed the whole thing. I don’t recall going to sleep, nor do I recall waking up. But then, what I saw happen didn’t really happen. I must be coming down with something. The excitement and stories are affecting me. I tried to tell everyone that nothing was wrong, that I just felt ill and needed to leave. I doubt they believed me. Heaven forbid that I tell the crew more ghost stories. Even in my delusional state, I had enough sense not to speak of such things.

 

I gathered from them that they had been looking for me. My volunteer assistant had turned away to study the Usurper statue when he heard a sound like a breath exhaling and a breeze blew across his face from behind. I shuddered uncontrollably at the mention of such things, yet I regained myself to listen to the rest of his story. After feeling the breeze, he had then turned to ask me what I was doing only to see I was no longer present. This sparked him to search for me and ask the others where I was. They were just about ready to return to the ship to request diving teams to comb the area when I bolted toward them like a mad man.

 

I left the chamber and spent the rest of the day in bed. I just need more rest. It was all a hallucination. There must be some remnant noxious fume that affects the mind. That’s all it is.

 

(June 7th through June 10th lost due to damage)

 

June 11th

 

Equipment failures plague us. No matter how many times we fix the lights or the pumps, something breaks on every trip. Our engineers are flustered and confused. Things are breaking down that shouldn’t, according to them. Things are ceasing to work then start working again as normal later. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that someone was toying with us. Any trips that can be made to the chambers have been severely shortened. I have not been back in the tombs since ... since my incident.

 

Those that have been down there say they hear and feel rumblings on occasion. Every now and then, one of them says they see someone or something down there. I fruitlessly tell them to keep it quiet or keep it to themselves. I can’t squash the rumors when every member of our crew has a story.

 

I begged our engineers to recheck the air quality again. They insisted nothing is wrong with the air in the chamber. That cannot be true. There must be something in the air that causes these hallucinations. At my command, they have doubled their efforts to cycle clean air into the caverns.

 

It’s becoming quite fashionable aboard this ship to refuse to return to the tombs. I suppose I should go back at some point. I cannot let this place beat me. We cannot let it beat us. All of these equipment failures are beginning to make this journey more and more impractical. I can only hope and pray they will be ironed out soon.

 

June 12th

 

I returned to that cursed tomb today. I had to be brave. I had to set an example for the crew. We should have never found this place. My mission was simple, gather as much data as I could while packing up anything that we may have left down there. The idea of further explorations is no longer feasible. The crew I had with me worked diligently. No one said a word the whole time.

 

Our lights kept flickering. On occasion, they would go out. We would just use the backup torches we brought with us until the main lightning came back. From time to time, we would hear a rumbling and the ground would shake slightly. At one point, we all heard what sounded like whispering. I have no idea what language it was speaking, if it was a language at all.

 

We were on our way out when the lights died completely, including our backups. We kept going, acting as if nothing had happened. I heard a sound, as if a deep exhale of breath. A cold breeze blew across us. The hair on the back of my neck stood rigid once again. I did my best to suppress the memories of my first encounter with such a phenomenon. I then heard footsteps approaching then vanishing, approaching then vanishing. I kept seeing a dark shape, darker than the darkness itself, resembling a hooded and cloaked figure out of the corner of my eye.

 

Then came the laughter. Wicked soft laughter. That was our breaking point. We left the tomb faster than we had ever left in the past. I know that some equipment was left behind. At this point I don’t care. It can all rot in the tomb. The specters that guard it can laugh and wield my equipment to their cold desiccated hearts’ content.

 

While swimming through the depths, I thought I saw a large shape swimming toward us. From my view it looked as if it had legs. However, with everything going on, I don’t dare speculate or let my imagination wander. It must just be a whale. Our decompression stops along the way seemed to take an eternity.

 

Once on board I insisted that we leave immediately. Captain Bhavsar agreed and we tried to raise the anchor, yet it wouldn’t budge. Try we might, the anchor wouldn’t give way. Our engineers started shouting something about us being pulled by the anchor. The ship began to tilt and move backward. They stopped pulling the anchor and gave the chain some slack.

 

No matter how much slack they gave, the chain remained taut. The ship began to tilt more and more until the captain finally released the anchor entirely. Leaving it and its chain to the depths.

 

Bhavsar ordered full steam ahead. The engines roared to life, then promptly died. Now we are adrift. Our engineers are working furiously to get our engines back up and running again. One of the engineers said it looks like something had completely crushed several components.

 

Several of our crew wanted to lower the lifeboats and row out to find help. Bhavsar rejected that idea. There was yet no need to panic. We are so far from land that it would be a greater risk of those in the lifeboats being lost at sea than finding shore. We radioed for a ship to come to our aid. It will come by tomorrow evening ... supposedly. Our saviors can’t come too soon.

 

June 13th

 

A sudden storm came upon us in the night. It felt as though our ship would turn itself on its side every minute. No one knows where this storm came from. Our lookouts saw no sign of it before it appeared. We radioed around to see if anyone had any idea that this was coming. None of the surrounding areas reported a storm of any sort. Some of the crew were babbling about seeing faces in the clouds. One man swore that he saw two large serpent tails weaving between bulges in the clouds above.

 

Frankly, it’s a miracle we all survived. We lost a few parts, pumps, a couple life boats, and a few generators. I have been assured that our stock is more than enough to cover the loses. I can at least sell some of it back so as not to lose everything. No one has slept well and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

 

News from our engineers remains grim. Even more was damaged by the storm last night. They are still working furiously to get our engines back. Their estimates are not looking favorable.

 

We waited for our rescue ship to arrive. The rescue captain was in radio contact with us in the morning. Toward the evening, his radio went silent. We received one last brief transmission; something about a large dark object heading toward them. Needless to say, we are still adrift out here and now we have no sign or contact with our impending rescue.

 

June 14th

 

I was awakened last night by a woman’s shriek. It took a minute for the grogginess to wear off. Then a realization hit me. There are no women onboard this ship. I hastily threw on a robe and left the safety of my cabin to investigate. When I stepped on deck, I found several others standing, staring up at the sky. I gazed up at the black roiling mass of clouds overhead. Lightning streaked the sky. For a moment, I thought one of the cloud formations looked like a face. I had to shake myself; that would be absurd. Everyone was in a state of panic. That’s when the rumbling started. It was similar to the rumble of thunder, but it didn’t come from the sky. It came from below.

 

I turned my gaze to the sea. As I stared into the deep dark depths, a huge black shape seemed to grow larger, then move toward us. I heard the growling of some great beast, then the waves struck. We all held onto the railing for dear life as our ship tossed and turned.

 

I could only watch in horror and hold on for dear life as our ship nearly turned perfectly sideways. Others of our crew were not so fortunate. I saw ship’s cook Reginald, poor devil, get flung into the abyss. Nine others also fell. As I stared into the oncoming torrent, I saw eyes, two great purple eyes, with multiple smaller ones surrounding, staring back at me. A bright violet flame danced in their gaze. I prayed for salvation thinking surely this is the end. Then, as quickly as it all happened, it ended. The ship righted itself, and the sky cleared.

 

Attempting to sleep after that was a fruitless endeavor. I found myself pacing around my cabin, glancing furtively out the porthole. Every minor wave or bump became a monster in my mind. I dare not dwell on what I saw. Surely, there must be some explanation. The manuscript and the inscription all tell of monsters in the sky and below. These must be natural phenomena of the area. Ancient peoples must have seen these happen and devised legends around them. That has to be the explanation, right? Whatever the explanation is, we need to leave immediately.

 

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Divine providence has abandoned us this day. In the morning, we found bits of wreckage floating by us. Captain Bhavsar was loathe to inform me that it appeared to be the wreckage of the ship sent to rescue us. We attempted to radio out again but were met with static. We have been unable to raise anyone around. Here we are, adrift in the sea, beset by storms, unable to communicate, with hopes of rescue crumbling around us. Our ship’s stock can only hold us for a month or two if we use it sparingly.

 

Bhavsar also informed me that we lost ten poor souls in the night. Though unfortunate, it may enable the rest of us to survive longer with our supplies. We’ll certainly feel the loss of our cook Reginald. Meals from now on will be more minimalist and bland. A necessary evil for survival.

 

That is a horrible way to think, yet such is the situation we are in. It’s no longer about exploration or adventure. It’s all down to survival. When we return home, we can mourn our losses.

 

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I was informed that those we lost overboard included a few of our engineers and a couple divers. The ship’s engines also sustained more damage. Some poor devils were working around the clock on the engines and were down there during the storm resulting in another death and a few injuries. That brings our total casualties from last night to 15. 11 dead and four seriously wounded. Repairs are continuing but at a much slower pace. A lot of work will have to be redone.

 

We started the journey as a ship’s complement of 40 people, including myself. Now we are down to 23 effective crew. Someone give me an oar and I’ll row this ship out myself before we lose more!

 

Those contemptible cloaked people sailed around us again today. We shouted at them to come help us, come do something, even go get help. They just kept sailing around. Their leader shouted at us that we were now cursed prey, hunted by the Devourer and we must die. Some of our men fired a few rifle rounds at them in anger. I rushed to stop them, not because I was concerned about our tormentor’s safety, but ammunition is too precious to waste on them. We may need it wherever we end up. The shots that were fired seemed to have no effect on the hooded men. I presume our men fired out of frustration and had no desire for accuracy.

 

Two of our crew insisted on lowering a lifeboat. I think they simply wanted to escape. At this point, sending people out in a boat to potentially find help is far better than sitting here doing nothing. Our hooded tormentors certainly weren’t interested in helping us. We tried to lower one of the boats into the sea. During the process, one of the ropes snapped, sending the boat and its supplies into the sea. We were fortunate enough that the rope had snapped before our two crew had entered the boat.

 

It was extremely frustrating to lose the supplies, but our crew was determined. We looked for another lifeboat. To our shock, we discovered that all but one of our remaining boats were too badly damaged to be seaworthy. Bhavsar was loath to part with our last means of escape, should anything happen, but we had to do something.

 

We were able to successfully lower our last lifeboat with our two volunteer crew into the sea. We gave them enough rations to last them a month and watched them row away. Our hooded tormentors still circled around us, watching everything. As our two volunteers rowed some distance away, one of the hooded fellows, shouted, and pointed ominously at the water. A dark shape approached the little rowboat. We watched in horror as a chasm opened in the water and swallowed the boat whole.

 

We shouted at our volunteers for some time, hoping to receive a response. I hoped, beyond hope, that they would simply swim back to us and we could haul them aboard. No such fortune came.

 

A black shape circled us in the water. It was too far below the surface to get a good look at it. Whales can be quite large and intimidating to see. I pray that’s all that this shape was. But then ... do whales typically swallow boats whole?

 

As nightfall approached, those hooded maniacs left. None of us, who were not on watch, went to bed readily or easily.

 

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I have been awakened from my fitful sleep by the sound of gunfire. Men are shouting about faces and snakes in the clouds. I heard one man shouting “What’s that thing in the water, KILL IT!” The boat is beginning to rock violently. I fear the worst. I can already hear the rending of metal and the rush of water. I’m placing this journal and everything that I have into my waterproof container. If I don’t survive, maybe this will. May this serve as a warning to all who dare search for the lost lands. Let them remain lost.

 

(End of Journal Entries)

 

Afterword

 

This journal was found washed ashore late October 1920. Neither Wilbur P. Hogenson nor any of his crew were ever seen again. Though bits of wreckage of the ship have been found, no bodies have, as of yet, surfaced. The League of Great Explorers and Historians do not necessarily agree with or endorse the views and opinions expressed by Hogenson. Items and locations as described have been unable to be confirmed as accurate or true by the L.G.E.H. Interviews with captains of resupply ships as mentioned in the journal provide conflicting accounts.

 

Authorities were able to confirm the loss of two ships, Hogenson’s and a ship sent out to rescue Hogenson. Evidence suggests that coordinates provided to the rescue ship were inaccurate. Experts have speculated that the two ships ran into shallow rock formations and thus sank. Hogenson was searching for shallow areas. What really happened remains a mystery that may never be solved.