Cameron's Grift
I was told by Them Who Knows;
That one day, little Lydia and young Cameron were playing tag in the bailey at the Old Keep in Craysilt. It was an activity they had enjoyed many times before, laughing and screaming in glee, and the Guardsmen stationed at the Keep to protect The High King's Seat and its members had come to ignore their antics. That, and the fact that either one of these noble children could get a grown adult guard fired, conspired one day to attract the children to an even older part of the Keep than any they had yet found. They were able to tell because of the stonework; it got better the further in one went. Most likely a product of Dwarfdom and their superior engineers and smiths, or so Lydia had been told. She didn't quite trust her tutor. She thought he looked at her funny.
They giggled, Cameron in that deep and gutterally joyful he has and Lydia in a smaller, half-frightened giggle. She was enjoying the tension. She liked being scared, it excited her. Looking about quickly, they glanced at each other one last time and slipped through a crack in the masonry near one of the cornerstones of the Old Keep. It led down, and better yet, there was light down there. So it had to be a hidden room! Sliding down the shortish slope, along with all the debris and rocks they dislodged, had them arriving loudly when they did strike the bottom. Loudly, and with a cloud of dust and sand only made worse when they stood and began to pat themselves off, they coughed and looked around. What they saw startled them into silence.
Walls made entirely of humanoid skulls stretched northward before them. Toward the center of the keep. Iron torches in wall sconces lined the way, which lit as they got close. Whatever magic was used when this place was built was still there. They gulped, clasped hands, and moved on. Another torch lit. Then another. Then the ones behind them started to extinguish themselves. The farthest one first, and so on.
There was nothing but a pool of darkness on either side of them, whichever way they went. They continued north, slowly, huddled together for comfort, daring to explore this catacomb as only those with no experience of real danger would do. "Elfs," Cameron suddenly said. He was staring at the skulls. Had been sort of creepily obsessed with, in Lydia's opinion. Lydia started, hand flying to her mouth as she let out a little squeak of terror. Lydia looked more closely. Sure enough, the skulls were a little elongated. The nasal and aural openings a little unusually shaped. Her brother was right, these were all elves. All of them! And what were they doing down here?
Before long, they came to a shrine. A strange sight, here amidst so much death. At the crossroads of two hallways lined with the skulls of elves, it stood, silently. Candles lit as they approached. Cameron made a sound he only made when he was starting to get emotional. A nasal, high in his nose whine that brought a chill to Lydia's spine. "Oh. no dear brother, let us return. There is no need for one of your turns, my love!" Cameron only repeated the wordless whine.
"Aahhhhhh! Lydiaaaaa!"
Lydia was concerned. When Cameron lost control, things tended to end up broken. He was a lot stronger than he knew. But something was off. This wasn't the type of thing that would normally send him spiraling. That was usually reserved for humanoid interactions.
"Hnuah Lydiaaaaa!" The large lad started wringing his hands, his feet dancing a little in fear. "Lydiaaaaa we need to go!" His eyes wild, now, Lydia knew there was nothing for it but to return. "Lydiaaaa there's magic everywhere! It's everywhere!" cried Cameron. It was Lydia's turn to start panicking. He was right; the torches, the shrine, all of it must be magical. And with the skulls lining the walls, the entire scene became too much for the children, who broke and ran.
Cameron quickly outpaced Lydia, who started squealing for him to slow down, but he only ran faster with a laugh of terror. He grabbed one of the torches and began knocking the others out with it. Lydia screamed a paniced "No!" as Cameron quickly left her in the dark. All of the lights were out, now, except for the ones that led deeper into the crypt. "Cam! Cameron! CAMERON!" she yelled, but the only response she got was the noise of the debris and sliding stones dislodged by Cameron's ascent. "Cameron!"
She ran smack! into a wall, and started feeling around for the crack they had slid down. She found it easily enough, and when she stuck her head in the opening and looked up, she saw Cameron's head, looking down at her, wreathed in beatiful torchlight. And then he disappeared, presumably to find help, when Lydia found she could not climb up the steep slope. It had even been difficult for the much more athletic Cameron, so it was no wonder it was beyond Lydia's capabilities. She consoled herself that she would have help, soon. Her brother would get her the help she needed.
Right?
She began to cry, alone in the darkness. She was finding it very difficult to maintain calm, and began to sob. The last thing she remembered seeing of Cameron that night was his haloed mane of red hair, and a cruel smile on his usually simple and expressionless features. She had heard him laugh, too. But not one of his nervous or excited laughs. It was a mean, sadistic sort of laugh. So, Lydia curled up into a little ball on the floor, and wept herself to sleep. Three days she sat there, calling for help, so thirsty she could barely talk, until finally she heard a reply.
"Lydiaaaa," came Cameron's voice. "Come out and play Lydiaaa!" He sounded petulant, as if her absence were her fault entirely.
"Get me out of her Cam!"
"Lydia! Daddy bought me a kitten to replace you." Lydia's skin went clammy with cold sweat. How could her own brother say such things? But she knew. She knew about the abuses Cameron was subjected to almost daily. The constant mocking, the thinly veiled fear, even the beat downs he had gotten from the other lads; all had been terrible for him. All had been ignored by her. She started to cry again. Cam was a lot smarter than people gave him cdredit for. It was easy to dismiss a simpleton as threatless. Cameron, she knew, was of a different breed. A clanking and clunking accompanied by the now inevitable scree came from the slope as a plain leather waterskin came sliding down their secret entrance.
"You'll need that, Lydia!" And he was gone again. She unstoppered the waterskin and drank, spitting out the first mouthful in surprise and disgust. He had given her...urine?
She was too thirsty not to drink the still warm liquid, but she found it hard around the gut wrenching sobs that had taken hold of her. She waited there, crying softly, for another two days before she was found by an industrious member of the House Guard. Cameron clapped, happy to see her, giving her a big hug and a bit of an extra squeeze. She knew what that squeeze meant. It was a threat. He could pop her like a grape.
She never mentioned it to anyone, and as the years went by, she even questioned herself. Her own memory seemed to be way off about the event, and Cameron went about his happy, smiling days as usual. But every once in a while, she would catch him looking at her in a way that reminded her of that time, long ago, when Cameron played his prank on her.
Summary
Cameron Hartunian, Lydia Hartunian's elder brother, once left her stranded in a skull lined catacomb for five days.
Historical Basis
This story is factual, and recorded by a parapsychological professional during a scrying session that Roland Hartunian had ordered done when Lydia was young.
Spread
It has been kept a closely guarded family secret.
In Art
Lydia has drawn the images of horror that assailed her during this event time and a time again.
Cameron Hartunian by H Ogni
Date of Setting
Lydia and Cameron Hartunian's youths
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