Oskar sat in silence, waiting. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, since he was drifting in and out of consciousness, though he tried to judge by his thirst.

“A full day, maybe.” Oskar whispered almost silently. His head pounded with every heartbeat. He was thirsty. He’d never been this thirsty. The blood loss would have contributed to the dehydration from the time he’d spent in the dry, dusty cave with no water. He knew that headache was another symptom, but it wasn’t as if he could feel it over the pain from the head injury.

The silence was boring down on Oskar like a heavy blanket. He found himself moving, shifting around under his rock simply for the slight, nearly silent rustling his coat provided. He still couldn’t hear anything else. Amnestria and Marent weren’t coming.

“They’ve left me,” Oskar whispered to himself. “How long did Marent spend in the mines? If anyone can get through a rockfall… they just gave up. They left me.”

Oskar slammed his fist against the wall. It felt satisfying, so he did it again, and again.

“Ness, yer my best friend! How could you just leave me!” His fist smacked the wall again, and he could feel blood begin to flow down his wrist. His throat felt on fire, and he realized that he was practically screaming. It was getting harder to breathe, his chest heaving for air, dragging in great breaths but still not getting enough oxygen. His heart and his head were pounding, and he could see the spots at the corners of his vision again.

Stop exertin yerself. Ye’ll run out of air faster, if you keep this up.

“It doesna matter,” Oskar cried, throwing his head back and laughing ruefully. “They’re no comin’ for me, what am I holdin’ on for?”

Maybe they’re dead. There’s no use bein’ angry. You know they’d be here if they could.

“Hallucinations,” Oskar wheezed, still shaking with laughter. “I’m talkin’ to meself now. Next it’ll be-”

Oskar stopped laughing suddenly, holding his breath. He listened, cocking his head to the side and straining his ears. Was that...

He needed to breathe, and took in another lungful of the thick air. He held it, listening intently.

There was a scraping sound, metal on stone. It wasn’t coming from the right, where the cave exit had to be. It came from deeper in the cave.

There was a sudden snorting sound to the left, and Oskar’s head whipped around to stare blindly into the blackness. A whuffling, as if a large beast was sniffing, testing the air for scent.

“No,” Oskar whispered to himself. “No, no, no NO!”

Oskar began heaving at the rock in his lap, ignoring the blinding pain shooting through his skull. He screamed, feeling a sharp pain tear through his throat as his voice gave out completely. He heaved and struggled against the boulder, panicking in the dark as he imagined the huge beast waking up, scenting him out, and killing him slowly.

He felt anger bubbling up, pure rage at the thought that he was forced to sit still and just wait on the thing to make it’s way over to him. A prickling sensation rolled up his back, and neck, and over his scalp. He beat and pounded on the boulder, screaming silently as red seemed to spread across his vision -

~~

“An’ then the minotaur seemed to wake up.” Oskar finished off his flask. Rando started in surprise. He had been clutching his lyre tightly throughout Oskar’s tale, riveted to his words.

“Seemed to, I said. Looking back later on, it seemed obvious that the concussion, blood loss, dehydration, isolation...” Oskar trailed off, thinking. “Aye, the isolation an’ fear probably had a lot t’ do with it. I imagined it. the air had been goin’ bad on me, an’ my brain was starved fer oxygen. I started t’ panic. Then I got angry at the thought that I just had t’ sit there and wait for it t’ make it’s way over t’ me. the last thing I remember is noticin’ that I could see red. For the first time in over a day, I saw something other than blackness.”

“Your eyes,” Rando said quietly. “When the vessels burst and your eyes fill with blood.”

“Aye. Always happens before I rage. Sometimes I can control it, fight it back, but the eyes are the first sign. the smell comes next, then the chains.”

“The smell?” Rando seemed startled, and tentatively sniffed the air. “What smell?”

“Ye wouldna ha’ been close enough to notice. It’s hard to, in open air. Just before the chains burst out, you can smell the sea. Briny salt water. the chains drip water as well, though it’s hard t’ tell, what wi’ them flailin’ so.” Oskar shrugged. “Does that tell you anythin’ about my lineage?”

Rando shook his head, his eyes wide.

“Well, nay matter. I’ve told you that I couldna remember what happened while I was off my head at first, aye? Well, I came to again, standing before a tiny crack in a wall. Light, and fresh air were pourin’ in...”

~~

Oskar stood in the darkness, heaving for breath. His head was still swimming, not as badly as before, though the pain was worse. He could feel fresh trickles of blood making their way down his face, and he was holding something large.

As soon as he realized this, the weight of the object in his hands dragged his arms down. The metal head of the great warhammer slammed down onto the ground, clanking loudly. Oskar staggered, his right leg fell out from beneath him, and he went down hard on his knees.

He knelt there, breathing raggedly. The fog that had slowly crept over his mind over the course of hours as he began to run out of air was lifting rapidly, and he suddenly realized that he had somehow gotten himself free. He leaned forward, lifting his face to the stream of bright sunlight pouring through the crack in the wall. There were chunks of the smooth cave surface missing, and he could see that someone had battered the wall with some large object.

He glanced aside at the hammer, and then over his shoulder.

The light was coming in at just the right angle to shine back to the far side of the cave, and Oskar could see that the minotaur still lay where it had earlier. Dust was still coating it’s form, but it’s head was gone, smashed to a pulp. Oskar looked back at the hammer. He could see traces of fresh blood around the edges of the huge chunk of inscribed metal. Magical runes. The thing had been enchanted. He tried to puzzle out the meaning, but only managed two runes. Earth, and Sunder.

Oskar tried to think through it logically. It was easier to think logically now. The minotaur must have known what the hammer could do. That’s why it had struck the cave wall as they ran. It hadn’t wanted them to escape. The hammer had brought down the ceiling, killing the beast in the process. Oskar must have somehow, in his panic, managed to lift the boulder off of himself, find the hammer in the dark, smash the minotaur's skull, and find his way back to the rock wall blocking the cave exit. A hammer enchanted to sunder earth and stone would be the ideal tool to break oneself out of a cave-in.

He knelt there, breathing. He didn’t try to think anymore, he didn’t try to plan, he didn’t worry. He didn’t feel fear, or panic, or anger. He just breathed.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Time passed. The light changed, drifting over the walls. It grew dimmer, and Oskar knew that the sun was passing over the mountain. Some time in the afternoon. Two days then, since he’d been trapped. Or maybe just one, he couldn’t be sure.

He wondered why he could see light. The tunnel leading from the main cavern of the cave had twisted back and forth, leaving Oskar and Marent in complete darkness as they moved quietly into the cavern. At this point in the cave, it should still be pitch black.

He heard noises from outside. Sounds. Words. Someone was speaking. Someone was speaking!

The voices grew louder, approaching the cave. Oskar scrabbled up, gaining his feet only to fall forward against the rock wall. His leg was incapable of bearing his weight. A deep, gruff voice. Another, higher in pitch.

“This way! I’m telling you-”

“Nay lass, it was here, by the pile of rubble.”

Marent! That was Marent’s voice. Amnestria too, they had come back! Whereever they had gone, they came back! Oskar tried to call out, but his voice was still gone. He fought to clear his throat, to work up some saliva to coat his dusty throat.

“The entire fucking mountainside is a pile of rubble! I can see our tracks from before, it’s-”

“We went back and forth over this entire area, of course ye’d see our tracks here. They’re over there too, go look!”

“Stop it, both of you.” A higher voice, tiny somehow, though it rose above the argument. The gnome, the druid they’d met a few days ago. “I told you, I only have one casting of this spell. I can break down a good portion of the wall, but you must decide where. Stop arguing, and think. Where is the entrance?”

That was why Oskar could see light. The mountain must have been unstable, so when the minotaur had struck the cave with the hammer, it had not only collapsed the cave, it sent the entire damn mountainside down. It was a wonder the others had made it to safety. That meant that at this point, they must be beyond just a few feet of stone. He just needed to let them know where to cast whatever spell the druid was speaking of, or she’d waste it on an area where the stone was too thick.

He pounded his fist on the wall, then began slapping it, hoping that the sound would carry further. He heard low conversation from the other side. They hadn’t heard him. He glanced at the hammer, but there was no way he could lift that again. He tried anyway, failing.

He tried calling out, yelling, straining. His dry throat refused to work, and he pounded the wall again in frustration. His leg was shaking hard now, he felt as if he was about to collapse.

The voices moved further away. Oskar felt panic rising up again. If the druid wasted her spell, she’d have to wait until she prayed tomorrow morning to cast it again. Oskar didn’t think he had that long.

He ground his teeth, and then had an idea. He bit down on his tongue fiercely, feeling blood begin to fill his mouth. He waited a second, and then swallowed a full mouthful, only gagging slightly.

He felt the warm blood coating his dry throat, soothing the burn. The taste of the blood had stimulated his mouth enough that a small bit of saliva was being produced now, and he swallowed again.

Oskar drew in a deep breath, tilted his face up to the small crack in the wall, and screamed.

“MARENT!”

He felt his voice break again, and a wave of nausea rolled over him as pain spiked through his head. He collapsed, falling against the wall, coughing silently. He was done, he had nothing left. He could feel himself spiraling down into darkness.

The wall seemed to fall away as Oskar leaned against it, sending him tumbling forward. A bright wash of light flowed into the cave, blinding him as he curled in on himself, still coughing.

Arms snaked around him, strong hands pulling him up, holding him. Shouts, everything was a jumble. His vision had begun to shrink around the edges, but at this sudden rush of activity and noise, it jarred him back to consciousness again. He was pulled to a sitting position, and his head fell weakly back onto a fluffy black pillow. He looked up.

He was leaning against Marent’s chest. The dwarf was looking down at him in alarm. He was speaking, shouting actually, though Oskar couldn’t make out the words for some reason.

Movement, a sudden wash of energy over his body. The druid must have healed him. His head cleared slightly, and he was able to hear.

“-severely dehydrated.” A waterskin was pressed to his mouth, and he found the energy somewhere to lean forward, drinking greedily. The waterskin was pulled away, and even though he knew it wasn’t smart to drink too much, too fast, he couldn’t help but reach out for it again.

“Nay lad, you canna have too much just yet. We’ll gi’ you more in a moment.” Marent grasped his arms, folding them across his chest and holding him firmly. Oskar couldn’t help but notice just how nice this felt, and he leaned back, not entirely due to exhaustion.

Ness was there, leaning over him. “Dammit Oskar, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell happened?”

Oskar opened his mouth, croaking a bit, but the druid shushed him, giving him a bit more water as she spoke. “Let him rest. It doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that matters is getting water into him, slowly. Then a bit of food. I’ll send my hawk out to try to snag a rabbit, and we’ll get some soup started. Amnestria, go set up a campfire near the lake. Marent and I will tend to your friend, and get him down the mountain.”

Amnestria protested, beginning to argue with the druid. Ness was always used to being in charge, and didn’t quite care for the other woman taking control of the situation. Oskar could see the rebellion in her eyes, but she glanced down at him, and relented. Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead gently. He could see tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” she said thickly, standing up and making her way carefully down the mountainside. She didn’t look back.

Oskar gripped weakly at Marent’s arm, and the dwarf looked down at him. He still held Oskar gently, but firmly. Marent’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair a tangled mess, and it looked as if the braids in his beard had begun to unravel. The druid had moved off, calling a large hawk down from the sky. She spoke to the bird as if it were a person, and the animal launched itself back into the air.

Marent had raised an eyebrow in inquiry, and Oskar swallowed again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What? Why are you sorry? It wasna yer fault th' mountain came down.” Marent furrowed his brows suspiciously. “Was it?”

Oskar shook his head weakly. “No. Broke my promise. T’ be careful.”

Marent shook his head slowly. He tightened his arms around Oskar a bit, careful not to squeeze too hard. “It’s all righ’ lad. Don’t dwell on that. If it makes ye feel better, I broke my promise too. Slipped and fell right on my arse as I was running. I’ve got a bruise the size of a melon...”

~~

“An’ then the druid cast a spell to open up the cave wall. She healed me, and Marent and Amnestria dragged me back home. I was still weak and shaky, an’ Marent decided that we all needed a vacation after that.” Oskar sighed, stretching his arms over his head. “I eventually told him what had happened in the cave, and he recognized it as a Berserker rage. He convinced me t’ let him train me t’ fight better, build up my muscles. Made me armor out of the minotaur’s hide.”

“Really? This armor?” Rando leaned forward, peering at the hide armor that Oskar wore, and the fur mantle draped across his shoulders. He raised a hand, restraining himself at the last second.

“Aye, the fire didna burn away all the fur.” Oskar glanced down. “We paid for the enchantments wi’ the money from sellin’ the hammer. It was far to big for any o’ us to use.”

Rando’s eyes darted towards the hammer that clung magically to Oskar’s back. Oskar saw the look. “Marent trained me for awhile, and then sent me away t’ an old family friend. Marent’s father made me that while I was gone.”

“This was the teacher who knew about Bloodragers?” Rando asked. He had been engrossed in the story, and his eyes darted back and forth as he processed the information. “You said his name was Dorin?”

“Ye’ll leave him out o’ it.” Oskar’s voice had hardened, and Rando stiffened, turning to look slowly at the suddenly intense man beside him. “He values his privacy, and abhors unannounced visitors. I owe the man, and wouldna be pleased if I found out that ye’d shown up on his doorstep.”

Rando shook his head quickly. “No, of course not! I don’t even remember the man’s name. Or was it a woman? Doesn’t matter, I don’t remember. Not important.”

Oskar snorted. “Aye, my teacher knew about Bloodragers. It took some time, but between the two o’ us, we puzzled out how to work my magic into the rages. I could go on at length about that, but it’s technical, and detailed, and it’s late.”

Oskar rose to his feet. “You’re next on watch rotation, aye? G’nite to ye, then.”

Rando watched as Oskar disappeared silently into the tent he shared with Marent. He didn’t mind that by the end of his watch he would have stayed up half the night. He’d gotten his story.