The three Bheorse youths; Cebrice, Mofrim and Runiek; donned their red cloaks, slipped their sheathed daggers onto their belts, and opened up their minds like radars in search for their missing companion Beltal. Although there were no rules that they must be in their rooms at this time - they had a lot of leeway as far as youths go in the undercity - Cebrice couldn’t help but think they were out looking for trouble.

“That’s Beltal alright. Trouble,” replied Rune in his mind. Mofrim shook his head, but out they went all the same.

The Bheorse towers were carved with murals of heroic deeds, typically depicting the slaying of various monsters which lived deeper in the underground, each more twisted than the last as they moved deeper. The edges of chiseled stone caught the light as they took the stairs down in twos past them.

Rune suppressed her pain from the group but not fast enough. She’d been working too hard, and Cebrice wasn’t sure if she would make it the whole way. She hadn’t really stopped pushing herself since she got up that morning, aside from breaks to eat. He couldn’t even begin to think of her turning back before she glared over at him, so he decided to focus on counting steps.

Mofrim was the best at tracking, and his senses led him to the edge of a balcony, below which were the mines and expansion tunnels heading to the east and west.

“I feel she’s in a western tunnel. She’s still alive.”

“How do you know?” Cebrice wondered.

“She’s still waiting for us.”

Cebrice pursed his lips. He was to treat finding her as a game, he reminded himself, to his comrades’ satisfaction.

Mofrim turned to Runiek, having had the same thought as Cebrice but the daring to voice it. “You’re not well. Maybe you should head back.”

“I’m fine,” She snarled, but her voice cracked.

Mofrim searched her eyes and they must have had a private conversation between them, before looking back down the rough new caves below. “Let’s go then.”

The lights from city all above them started to fade as they went down. It was nighttime in the undercity, and so the workers had gone for their rest. They had drawn back the magic from the lamps one at a time.

They’d been trained for what to do if they were approaching a dark tunnel. Creating light would be too auspicious, and possibly alert the prey. So instead, they called upon the spirits of those that came before them, and enhanced their vision to adapt to the dark.

Mofrim and Runiek put their foot up on the ledge and jumped down to the Western platform. Cebrice followed just a second afterwards, the urge to stay with his pack stronger than his fear. The landing was a neat roll. Free running was something that Cebrice did enjoy in his training. The only hard part was getting moving, and then you let muscle memory take over.

Approaching the tunnel, he could begin to hear Beltal calling out in his mind, but her thoughts didn’t make sense from where he was. He started back up into a run with the others into the dark along the rails, passing the carts and barrels of the minerals gathered by the entrance.

As the darkness took them in the tunnels, there was a sense of uneasiness that overcame them all. Something about these passages seemed alive, coiling around them and constricting something vital. But they continued.

There was a pumping in the ground, the sound of breathing. Cebrice’s mind filled with the images of the various creatures that had been slayed by their ancestors. Dragons, Cave bears, Hydras and Wyrms. The years of hunting had diminished the population of these great monsters, but it had not destroyed them completely.

Then there were the shadow creatures that watched them with shining eyes from the darkness. With their enhanced vision he could see their outlines, but their form being pure darkness not much was made clear. They were generally harmless, but their presence spooked them all the same. They were rare, never came to the city and were adverse to humans. Any other time and they would have been amazed to see them, but they were focused on their goal. So the shadows watched, and smiled, and the humans let the darkness envelop them further.

As they reached an appex of a rise in ground, they could see down to a figure ahead, just rolling clear of some long stick striking into the ground.

“BEL!” Mofrim cried out.

But it was Runiek to first bolt ahead and pull out her dagger. She felt larger than just herself in Cebrice’s eyes, seeing her muttering the Family motto felt like seeing a true medium. It held her together and filled her with vital rage. “Loyal. Merciless. Loyal. Merciless.” She repeated the words through gritted teeth.

The creature emerged, pale and large, as if it had dug this tunnel just for itself with its hundreds of thin spiked legs. Some legs even protruded out from its back for navigating impossible tunnels. Its chitin quivered with long hairs so that it could feel its way through the dark. Its eyes were inexistent on its hairy face, but its mouth opened up to click with an echoing volume through the caves. They could swear they could hear clicks in return further in.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Before the insect had a chance at moving towards them, Rune had her knife ready. She jumped onto it, grabbing one of the legs from its back to hoist her up like the branch of a tree. She pulled her arm back with a tight grip. The knife plunged between the cracks of its exoskeleton. Its shriek was like a nightmare. High and wheezing.

It slammed itself against a wall in response. The whole tunnel shook, and dirt was sprinkled across their heads. The idea of collapse was existential to them. Rune was knocked against the wall and fell. Her body was still, but her thoughts still ran. They were muddied, though.

Beltal had gotten herself up to stand. “Rune!” She limped over to her. Beltal must have hurt herself in defending against the beast. “We need to get out of here,” she said.

The beast writhed and struck out blindly. Beltal focused on safely pulling the other girl up and wrapped her arm over her shoulders to drag her.

Mofrim created a dream manifest of the party so that the creature’s strikes would be confused. “We can’t let this thing live,” he expressed, and Cebrice agreed with him. It seemed obvious a beast like this could bring down the mine. Each strike created vibrations along the whole shaft of the tunnel.

“But can we kill it?” Beltal asked. Rune made a motion to move but it seemed her injury combined with bravado and exhaustion overruled her wishes to stay and fight.

They were all quiet for a moment.

Perhaps retreat was best now. The weakness shown by both Beltal and Rune would have swayed Mofrim completely. Their best were bested, what hope was left?

But it was Cebrice who shook his head and spoke up. “We have to keep trying. Maybe not to win, but we hold it up. I-If you get Rune back safe, and tell them-“ Before Cebrice could continue, the creature lashed out with jabbing motions towards the group. They moved to dodge, but it was close. Cebrice could feel sweat on his neck. He had to summarise quicker. “Mofrim - will you stay?”

“I’ll stay,” he told the smaller boy. “I’ll fight with you!”

Beltal glanced between them to confirm, nodded, and tried to get Runiek to safety as quickly as they could hobble.

Cebrice felt himself shaking. The beast moved in such alien ways, he could hardly keep track of its legs. He thought if he jumped onto its back like Rune did, he’d only suffer the same fate.

Mofrim was going in with the attacks, slicing into its belly where it could, and it meant that the beast didn’t make forward motion. It was too busy trying to slice into Mof in return and thrashing against the cave. It was uncertain how long the structure would last down here.

Cebrice took over the dreaming, but he wasn’t as good at it. Every time he planned an attack, even if he could follow through, the chance was gone as soon as he saw it.

Mofrim wasn’t making a dent and the beast easily swiped him back, knocking him down to Cebrice’s feet. He pulled himself up, but there as a cut forming along his torso which filled Cebrice with desperation. He was ready to step forward, but knew it would be useless.

There must be a different approach.

Release, the voice from his studies called again.

An Ancestor had something to offer him.

He felt his fear, himself, something deep within yield to the voice. He stepped away from himself. He would do whatever they needed him to do. He offered himself completely.

A memory impressed itself upon him, and connected.

Cebrice watched himself.

“I am with you,” he said to the beast's mind. He could feel through the insect's senses almost more than his own.

The beast’s movements slowed. The rubble from its damage was let to settle.

Mofrim heard the thought and turned to Cebrice incredulously for a moment. “What are you doing?!” he whispered telepathically.

He didn’t even think about Mofrim, he was so concerned with the beast. Their every fibre. What their life must be like in this mineshaft, with humans above carving into their homeland. Their search for food. The sensation of digging through hard stone. They cared about territory just as much as the Families did. They were not so different in that sense.

No. They were the same.

Whose face was that he saw there, was that his? The distance between them was only a mirror.

“Stop.” The words came from Cebrice, but he did not send them, he didn’t think. It was all mixed up now.

The beast stopped and titled its head many ways watching Cebrice, its fresh wounds seeping but barely a mark despite Mofrim’s best efforts.

“It’s stopped moving…” Mofrim stared between them.

Some Bheorse were said to command the mind with such mastery that they could even make the greater beasts kneel to them. To make even them loyal. There were legends like this. It seemed that Cebrice had connected to one.

His heart pounded in the silence. His awareness struggled against the pressure. But Cebrice knew he had to make a choice now. Whatever ancestor was with him allowed him this moment, perhaps as a test. A choice between the two values of his Family.

This beast was now loyal to him. Would he be loyal in return? Or would he be merciless to his enemy, as he was taught? What does loyalty even mean here?

Mofrim put his hand on his shoulder. “We cannot let it live. Think of the miners in the morning. Think of our pack, injured. Family.” Family. Family.

“Yes…” Cebrice took a step forward. “I understand.”

“Of course.” Mofrim, stunned, handed Cebrice his dagger as well.

The Beast watched him and did not move. It waited patiently.

Cebrice was deep in its alien mind, seeing every thought. He knew how to end it. It did not understand.

In that moment, Cebrice loved the creature. He didn’t hate it. But he would condemn it to death, all the same. He weighed something greater in his heart, something deeper. Heavier. Something that whispered for a thousand years.

It was one of the greatest truths Bheorse hold that to be both loyal and merciless could be the same action whether friend or foe. That often friend and foe themselves could be the same. The mind and the body were not separate for them, and neither was this. This difficult balance commanded a strength of character that took years of cultivation, and a disposition leading to some of the finest assassins and best magic users in the underground.

Cebrice could feel its mind grow quiet. He felt its senses dim, then stop. He shook. As the tunnel filled with ichor and the beast collapsed, he felt that presence leave him. He slinked down from the creature’s back.

That presence that had guided him did not say goodbye. It was like the letting go of a parent's hand. As it faded from his conscious heart, he felt a sense of congratulations. A pride not his own left tears running from his eyes. It was the most powerful sensation he had felt in his whole life up to that moment. He cried for the Beast. He cried for his Family. Once the presence was fully gone, he cried for himself.

Mofrim didn’t try to understand. He put his hand on Cebrice’s shoulder, and they waited there together until the Elder came.