Once set up camp, the adventurers go to rest. They have soft bags that they slip into.

Clavynia stays awake to scout the surroundings. Her scouting [skills] make her best suited to acting as a sentry.

Although, there is no danger, to be honest.

Kavfyra also remains awake. She tries to light a lantern with magic.

She sighs.

I reach her.

“Hi.”

“Tsk. The trouble is, the magic doesn't work.”

“Oh, I see.” I start to sit next to her, but Kavfyra looks at me askance.

I stop.

She releases the lantern and stands, towering over me with her height.

“If you think you've convinced me, you're wrong. You may fool the gullible who use chopsticks, but I won't fall for it. You can't be a deity.”

“Er, in fact, I never said I was—if I may ask, what is that wand?”

Kavfyra rolls her eyes. “The wand has a tip made of Myrite, a metal that heats up with the average ambient level. If it becomes incandescent, it means that the average level has suddenly increased.”

Ah, strange device. I have never heard of anything like it. It must be a typical device.

“Does it work well?”

“To signal the presence of monsters, yes. But it's easy to fool it.” The [Cursed priestess] looks at me with disdain.

Hmm… I do not understand. Why does talk to me if she maintains the tone of superiority anyway?

I scratch my elbow. I start to walk away.

Kavfyra grabs my wrist and squeezes. “Why don't you just admit that you're deceiving us?”

Ci-cin, Ci-cin.

“Leave me.” I wriggle free. She lets go. “Why should I deceive you!?”

“It's not up to me to understand what moves you!”

“Then why accuse me!? I want to help you! The ruins where we are going are a mystery to me!”

“AH! So, admit it!”

I shake my head. “No, no, I don't understand you. Let's change our approach. What can I do to earn your trust?”

“Do you want to find my weak point? Only the supreme gods of beauty can have my trust.”

Ci-cin.

«Fsss!»

I turn my back to Kavfyra. The neck vein pulsates. I cannot accept this ideological refusal.

I just cannot.

I set off to return to Gron, outside the camp.

Glancing here and there, I notice we have woken up the others.

“Sorry, I raised my voice too much.”

Everyone turns around in their bag, and only Fulzo makes me a friendly sign. He yawns and rolls over.

I step outside the camp and stop.

It is unfair.

I happen to meet stubborn people, but in this case, they make me angry.

Oh well, after all, it is just her and that hooded guy. Others do not hate me. It is a cooperative situation. I help them with their research. Meanwhile, they help me find out more about the [Sanctuary].

Although I hate to admit it, Gron is rightly so. They pursue their goal, and we pursue ours.

Walking away, I fumble with the umbrella. I take a few steps when—

“Hey. Stop. If you are important here, tell me why I can't light the magic fire.”

I shrug. Turning around. “I do not know. This area is off-limits to skills. Some say only the magical ones, but I can't know for sure.”

Footsteps approaching. “Without Sacred Fire, I cannot make the field pure. Without purity, we could be attacked.”

“Gron's undead are no threat. There is no one here to fear.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder. Its grip and its long bony fingers.

“Don't fool me. Maybe you don't even know it. But I'm not talking about that talking cat's zombies.”

I prick up my ears. I tilt and turn my head to the side. “No? Look, your echo is not an undefeatable enemy.”

Kavfyra leaves me and steps back. “I don't talk about these things. I'm not that silly. I am a Cursed priestess; I can sense the evil nature of a sound.”

My hairs stand up.

That diabolical…

“You mean—”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I mean there is someone. Maybe it's a distant echo, but there is someone else in this place.”

Okay, I will exhale.

She does not mean about the [Devil].

Yes, indeed, there are metal creatures up ahead. Did she pick up those?

It must have a considerable range of power to do so.

Hmm.

“Maybe. In the place where we are going, there are some metal beings. Many are frozen, but I don't know. I haven't been down here in a long time.”

Kavfyra looks around. “So, I need the Sacred Fire.”

“I do not believe. And then, if necessary, I'm with you. I doubt anything but gargoyles.”

“The gargoyles?”

“Um, er—never mind.”

I am about to leave the discussion. Kavfyra does not seem to agree and mutters. They are insults, but I pretend not to hear them.

I walk away and hear her footsteps receding.

Gron awaits me belly up on the moss, hidden by a coral.

I sit next to it. I look at the camp.

Kavfyra sat up with her hands clasped, the shaft of her weapon balanced. On one side, a short sickle, and the other, a hammer with a curved spike.

She moves her lips. But she is too far away, and I cannot understand what she says.

“Is she praying? Prr.”

“I do not care.”

“Someone got offended here, huh?”

«Fsss.»

I look at Gron. It stood up and scratched its nails on the coral.

“Well, what's the matter, won't you cry like last time?”

“No—I'm just thinking. We are so different. You don't trust them and hide it. They don't trust me and oppose me. Fulzo has taken a liking to me, I would like us all to cooperate—why do they think I want to hurt them?”

“You're asking the wrong cat. Where I come from, individuals are always competing. You hunt for the most treacherous dungeon, the most important treasure, things like that.”

“Their world is dying. Not with an extinction event. But for a different evil. A disease.”

Gron jumps on my shoulders. It rubs its hairy cheek against mine and drops between my legs.

“How many sick people have you met in recent years?”

“Many deceased dies of hardship and disease.”

“Nothing new, right?”

“No… you're right…” but I am not convinced.

Kavfyra is now stepping on the blades and shaft. She is concentrated and glances at me.

Clavynia returns from her patrol.

Ci-cin.

I raise my hand and smile at her. She bows her head and mumbles something.

She walks past, ignoring me.

“No—you're right.” I Whisper.

♦

During the trip, we camp again and again. Many that I do not count. Apart from Gron and Fulzo, no one talks to me. Drucyw and Vallycum are not bad. They do not seem to talk much even with the two clients.

They must be reserved people.

I continue to lead the way. Clavynia follows me a short distance away.

The temperature has dropped, and cold clouds are coming out of my breath. The astral bodies simulate illusory breathing. Gron does not breathe.

I am the only one whose ice, mixed with coral, freezes my toes and fingers.

“We're almost there,” I creak a piece of thin ice with my foot.

The concrete tunnel opens up around us. Straight on, we are on our way now.

Clavynia watches me silently and nods.

“It's still dark ahead.” She speaks in a soft tone.

I nod. “Yes, the glacier is immersed in darkness. The luminescence of ivy and coral will soon end.”

Clavynia takes her leave, running to report the news to her companions.

“Gron, do you plan on abandoning us soon?”

“Prr, why this question?”

“Even if we found a descent to lower floors—there is a room I would like to show you. I think it might be useful to you.”

Gron nuzzles my ankle. I do not know what that means, but I think he accepted.

♦

Upon exiting the pipeline, the glacier is exactly as I remember it. Immersed in eternal darkness and illuminated only by the individual lights of the path. Headlights and spotlights that get lost in the frost.

Underfoot, the thick layer of ice that hides the dark blue flames.

The faces of my adventure companions are dismayed. Even Gron stands still and says nothing.

Was I like that the first time too?

“This is a place of absolute madness! Madness, I say! MADNESS!” Amerio wags his arms and limps towards me.

As much as he hunches, he is taller than me. He grabs my shoulders and shakes me, spluttering under his hood.

Ci-cin, Ci-cin, Ci-cin, Ci-cin.

“Monster! Show where you've taken us! There are no beautiful gods here! Here there is only the darkness that hides the putridity, the abysmal ugliness!”

“I-I—I don't, I don't know…”

“Stop! Don't let the disease get to you first—” Fulzo grabs Amerio's wrists. He stands between us, obscuring my view.

Chaf!

A slap.

Perplexity.

Awe.

I see Fulzo's face in profile and Amerio's stunted outstretched arm.

“Never dare again, you beggar mercenary! Are you getting carried away just because you're part of the expedition? Did you go to your head because that monster charmed you!?”

Kavfyra places the shaft of her weapon between the two litigants.

“Master, Fulzo, it is unseemly of you. Our people do not expect this from us.”

The two remain silent. Kavfyra turns to me.

“We can no longer continue this journey together. You've taken us beyond the tunnels, but don't expect gratitude. The rest we will take with the guidance of the gods.”

With a brusque gesture, Kavfyra signals Vallycum, Clavynia, and Drucyw to follow her. Then she walks along the path of spotlights.

The others follow her. Except for Amerio, they bow their heads as they pass me but say nothing.

Fulzo is the only one left. I know he did it to greet me, not to stay and explore with me.

“I'm sorry that a good creature like you.”

“No, don't say that. After all, you don't know me. I came out of the darkness, and maybe I just want to take you in madness. As that sick man says.”

I cannot even look at his face.

My eye is on his studded boots, moving to my toenails, moving up to his belt from which tools and knives hang… but I cannot look at his face.

“Amerio is ill. He is degenerating, but I can guarantee he is not evil.”

“You don't need to justify it. I don't have to judge any of you for now.”

I hear sighing. Fulzo's broad chest contracts.

A hand rests on my head, and he ruffles my hair.

Ci-cin.

“HEY!”

“Hahaha. Do you think I didn't notice that you carry the blade of a legendary assassin? Ilnerio, fallen against the poisonous crow lord!”

Oh!

He noticed that the umbrella…

Ilnerio. A name.

Blade.

Legendary assassin.

A ringing in the ear. Flickering in the vision. And a hint of migraine.

I look up. Our eyes meet. His are brown and thin.

“I crossed my sword with him. Border patrol, who do you think took this ear from me? That elf was no good, but without him, that monster would have exterminated us all.”

“You speak of Kirlh'iau, the champion of the—the champion of—”

“Haha, I never knew what that blasphemous creature was called. May the gods of beauty, if they exist, be like you. N, see you soon.”

Fulzo sets off. I watch him disappear into the darkness towards his companions.

I do not know how much time has passed. I look at the headlights in silence, giving them the advantage so as not to hit them.

“Well, what do we do?”

“I have to show you a room. Maybe it will help you get to the Golden Doors quickly.”

“Uh, meow. Inviting, the great Gron has always loved shortcuts.”

“Gron, listen, do you remember Kirlh'iau?”

The cat runs a paw over its face. “Um, vaguely. I remember standing alongside you in the battle.”

“Truly you hid—”

“So?”

“For whom did Kirlh'iau fight?”

“By God.”

“Which?”

“The one who plans from the world of dreams.”

Ci-cin.

Headache.

Confusion. Blurred images.

The god who plans from the world of dreams. The mental image of a huge tree. No, they were just words.

It is as if something was preventing me from clarifying these concepts. They appear distant and nostalgic.

It makes sense that Kirlh'iau would fight for a god. But it does not make sense that it is a dreamer god.

Only the dead dream constantly.

But dreams do not alter reality.

Doubt.

“Gron. There's more?”

“Let it be. What little I know I learned from you. I'm sorry I can't tell you much. Do you remember the empty throne? It's a very evocative image.”

Yes. I remember the empty throne. The image of words taking shape.

I know I have never seen it.

But I remember the idea I have of its appearance. Whether it is true or not does not matter. The fact that I remember it means that I am on the right path.

I close my eyes. I breathe in.

There's no point in brooding.

To know, I have to move forward. I am sure that the Golden Doors sought by Gron are the keystone.

It has to be like this. Otherwise, why forget?