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All Who Wander
Fear and Darkness

Fear and Darkness

Fear and Darkness

Wanderer lay there for a while, Emio taking a place beside them while their Spirit sent a slew of half emotions, attempting to work out the near-death experience in their own mind.

The Vessel was no stranger to near-death experiences, having faced quite a few in their short life, and, they reflected, will likely face many more.

Yet the unexpectedness of the event shook them, that there would be such harsh reparations for such a simple mistake drove a deep fear within their soul.

They knew, of course, that the tunnels were unstable, and the threat of collapse had scared them and put them on edge, but somewhere within them, they felt that as long as they were cautious the mine would not hurt them.

After all, the walls had stood for an unknowable amount of time, why would they not hold longer?

It took the Golem a while to claw their way out from under the hold of their anxieties, the fear of another collapse, even protected as they were, caused them no end of terror.

Yet they could not remain scared forever, eventually, their mind calmed enough for them to take in their surroundings.

The party lay upon a couch, covered in fine leather and a thick layer of dust.

Across from them lay a desk and chair, half-rotted and barely stable, much like the couch they sat on, upon closer inspection.

The supports which they put so much faith in to protect them had decayed as well, wood rot consuming much of the exterior, yet the beams were thick and would likely hold without the intervention of the outside fungi.

Yet while the wood had been spared from the greater ravages of time, much of the metal in the room could not say the same, anything that had once been made of iron or steel had now been reduced to little more than vaguely shaped debris.

This degradation was what caused Wanderer to reflect on the quality of the slivery metal that the door was made out of, to have survived all this time with only a little tarnishing was an amazing power.

The Golem knew little of the decay rates of wood and metal but even they could tell that this mine had been abandoned for a great time.

In the corner of the room lay two last items of furniture, a great wardrobe and a bookshelf stood proud.

The bookshelf had a vast row of colourful books, though most had been destroyed by the ravages of time, there were still a few that could be salvaged.

The wardrobe was deep, its wood was dark mahogany and nearly entirely protected from decay by its quality, clashing with the broken aesthetic of the room.

Slowly Wanderer approached the cabinet, carefully and cautiously opening it, the rusted hinges causing the door to practically fall off.

After a moment of panic that involved catching a thick slab of wood, the Golem appraised the contents of the wardrobe.

There in front of them lay an immaculate suit of armour, with blue and white colours that reminded the Golem quite significantly of the armour of the bodyguard.

To its left lay a medium-sized box with a large leather satchel laying on top of it and just above it, in a weapon rack, lay a short yet handsome, curved blade.

For a moment, Wanderer had fantasies of donning the armour, its hard shell making them invulnerable to the attacks of blade and Magi alike, yet this dream was quickly crushed by their own unconventional body type.

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There was no way that the enclosed helmet would fit over their hat-like head, nor the chest plate accommodate the Vessel's four arms and the leggings and boots were not made for the horse-like stature that Wanderer possessed.

The Spirit, sensing their mentee's disappointment, sent an idea to help raise their mood.

Seeing the humour in their Spirits suggestion, Wanderer picked up the helmet and inched their way over to Emio, who was lounging lazily on the couch, thoroughly unimpressed by the contents of the room.

Once within striking distance, the Vessel put their devious plan into action, lunging forward at the unsuspecting verdestry and snuggly fitting the helm over their small body.

Emio immediately stiffened, confused ripples echoing throughout their body before attempting to take their restraint off.

Wanderer laughed in their mind, a true, proper laugh, there was something about the little glowing creature, (who could easily rip them limb from limb) struggling to remove the snuggly fitting armour that carried inherent humour, one the Golem couldn't help but react to.

The joke raised all their spirits, even the disgruntled Emio seemed a little more relaxed, once their tendrils managed to rip the helmet off their body, that is.

When the mirth finally died away, Wanderer turned their attention back to the other contents of the wardrobe, picking up the satchel.

The leather was old and stiff, yet nonetheless, in good condition, it showed signs of wear and tear yet they seemed to be more from prior use than the ravages of time.

Opening the bag revealed it to be stuffed with coins of three colours, a dull crimson marked the smallest kind, the largest, a deep chromatic blue and the most normally sized was formed of the now familiar silver-white metal.

All of the denominations were minted with a symbol, it was a single line that split into two, and down the sides of the new lines were ones angled downwards, like barbs on an arrow.

On the back side of the coins were lines of text that Wanderer was unable to read, their only experience with the language coming from the old Magi’s visions and the shouts of their pursuers.

“Maybe if it was spoken?”, they contemplated.

in the visions they had understood the words said to the Magi, even though they had never learned them, perhaps they could decode it if they had time?

They turned their attention back to the coins, the largest and rarest (judging by the relative lack of the particular type of currency), of them standing out more than the rest, its blue splendour reminding Wanderer of the rising sun.

It was obvious why this metal was highly valued by its creators, even as Wanderer looked into it reflected their face in its shiny surface, yet it went even beyond that as their visage almost seemed to be morphed into something greater.

It was at this time that the use that the satchel could provide struck them, no longer would they have to carry something they wanted in their hands at all times (or be forced to stick it into their soft body, a thought that repulsed Wanderer).

This pouch would allow them to carry whatever they wished, anywhere, any memento they found in their travels could be carried along with them.

The thought brought great joy to both the Vessel and their Spirit, who was never opposed to something that would benefit their exploration.

Slinging the satchel over one of their shoulders they investigated the box under it.

The small, ornate chest would have been at one point locked, but time had made short work of those measly defences, the lid pried open with hardly a lift.

Yet it seemed that time had destroyed its contents as well as its protections, what was once likely letters and papers was now nothing but dust, having disintegrated with age.

Only a single letter could be salvaged from the mess, even still fragile and half destroyed, it went swiftly and safely into their new-found satchel.

They spent the next few minutes stuffing the least destroyed books into the bag as well, thoroughly looting the bookshelf of anything that didn't crumble within their hands, which equated to about four books.

Unfortunately, they could avoid the fact no longer, the group would have to go deeper into the mine hoping they could escape, a coming event that loomed over even the fearless Emio.

They had all seen how cruel the earth could be and no one wished to challenge it a second time.

Wanderer's vision fell upon the only item of any worth in the room that had not been taken, the decorated sword which rested over the armour.

“Perhaps it could be used for reasons other than death?”, a part of them argued, yet their mind turned to how much destruction they had already caused even without intending to, they would not tempt fate again.

And so the group crept out of the abode, Emio leading in front to light the path, before slowly and carefully following the rails toward the gaping abyss that led deeper into the mines.

And with a sombre note, Spirit, Plant, and Golem entered the darkness.