We had escaped the crimson reapers but now had a different problem. The six of us were in a cramped space in the dark, and Sylara was bleeding to death. We earned an interesting new reward. Up until now, we had collected rusted pennies, but they had been growing in number. Some of our larger battles were netting us thousands. This time we received tarnished silver pennies. I'd have to do the conversion later, but it appeared we'd collected quite a few.

> SYSTEM MESSAGE: Your heroic efforts in aiding Thandroot and Sylara have not gone unnoticed by the Druids of Eldrath. How is it possible that it was noticed? We keep a chalkboard in the back with tick marks next to your name.

>

> Reputation Increase! Faction: Enclave of the Verdant Grove

>

> Reputation Level: Friendly/Respected

>

> You're borderline respected and that's a big dealio, my favorite meat puppet. Keep this up, and the druids will be eating out of your hands in no time, especially if they're shifted into goat form, just like at a petting zoo.

“That’s new,” I muttered to myself. Where the hell was the Verdant Grove?

"Is she able to heal herself, or can you heal her?" I implored Thandroot.

"We exhausted our heals on the way here. Do you think we made fighting a bloody rotted dragon bloody easy?"

Her breathing was slow and labored. I felt so helpless! I wanted to help Sylara out, but I was the wrong class for healing others, and we'd used up every ounce of healing potions while we'd been stuck in the nexus.

Leech lifted his staff, and a light flared to life. It was dim, but I could make out the others.

I gently lowered Sylara to the ground, my hands slick with her blood. The wound in her side looked bad - a deep puncture that was bleeding heavily. Before I could get a closer look, Thandroot shoved me aside roughly.

"Out of the way, lad," he growled, kneeling beside Sylara.

I turned my attention back to Sylara. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale. "Hang in there," I said softly, though I wasn't sure she could hear me.

Thandroot hadn't given up. He was tearing strips from his own clothing, trying to fashion a makeshift bandage. "We need to stop the bleeding," he said urgently.

I nodded, helping him press the cloth against Sylara's wound. Her blood was warm on my hands. I didn't know this woman, but I wanted her to live.

"What can I do to help? Can she use my amulet?"

"I wish it were so. That device is bound to you and only you," Thandroot advised.

The dwarf closed his eyes and placed his hands on her chest, muttering what sounded like a prayer under his breath. I watched anxiously, hoping his dwarven magic could save her.

"It's not working," Thandroot said grimly after a moment. "The wound's too severe, and I have little power left. Used it up on that fight. Gave those bastards hell."

Darby was already digging through her pack. "I might be able to whip something up," she said, pulling out her Make Shit Kit. She dumped an assortment of plants and scraps onto the floor - things we'd collected since our fall from the Nexus. It wasn't a lot because we'd used up everything we had when we'd been confined to a room not too long ago. Why did this keep happening to us?

"What do you need?" I asked, ready to help however I could.

"Anything with healing properties," Darby replied, not looking up from her work. "Herbs, roots, even fungus could work."

Leech joined in the frantic search, emptying the contents of his own bag. "I've got some dried leaves here," he said. "And what looks like tree bark. Or it might be skin from that dead dragon. Couldn't help it. A dragon. Shit. Never thought I'd see that. Sorry. My ADD is extra today. So. Any good?"

"Pass them over," Darby instructed.

While they worked, Trogs wandered off to explore our surroundings. The room we'd stumbled into was dark and cramped, barely lit by the feeble glow from Leech's staff. He shuffled around, muttering to himself as he felt along the walls.

"I don't have enough…" Darby said, her voice tense and concentrated but stopped. She was grinding something in a small bowl, a pungent smell filling the air. Darby's head shot up. "Thandroot. I can't make a healing potion, but I can scrap together something to give you back a little mana."

"By Leefser, do it. Please!"

Darby ground up some of the bark Leech had provided and dumped it on the vial. She finished the small formula and held it aloft. It was light blue with flakes of a flower and or pieces of leaves swirling around.

"That'll do." Thandroot snatched the potion and drank it in one go.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Sylara's hand clutched mine, and her eyes went out of focus.

"Hurry!" I urged.

Thandroot sighed deeply. He lowered his head and whispered a prayer, words I could not understand, but they ended with Leefser.

His hands began to glow. Thandroot placed them on Sylara's chest, but it appeared nothing was happening. Then her eyes shot open, and she darted around the room.

Sylara grasped my hand and squeezed tightly. "Friend Liam and friend Thandroot," she breathed gently. "I owe you my life."

"Don't mention it," I said shyly because I still wasn't used to people thanking me for doing heroic stuff.

Thandroot kept his head lowered in reverence, then looked up, and his eyes darted between us. He didn't say anything, just smiled, but not for long. His gaze fell on me, and I could tell he had questions. Chiefly, how in the hell had I created a hole in the side of this massive building?

Before I could get up, my HUD changed. A square appeared in the upper right corner. It became three-dimensional, and it didn’t take me long to realize it was a map. The wall we’d escaped through lay to my right side. As I turned my head, the map moved with it until the wall was in front and aligned with the map. There must be a way to control it, but I’d have to investigate later. Right now, we had other concerns, like getting out of this fresh new jail hell we’d become stuck in. Again.

"I have a map in my head," I said to the others.

"Must be nice. I have some happy thoughts and the image of this chick I used to know before I joined the Air Force. Her name was Molly."

"No map here. Is it part of your HUD?" Darby asked me.

"Yeah."

"That'd be part of the Wayfinder you found. There's treasure to be found," Thandroot said. "How have you navigated this world before meeting us?"

"Sheer determination," I replied. "And a lot of flailing about in confusion."

Trogs called out from across the room. "Hey, I think I found something! A crack we may be able to squeeze through. I will need Liam's assistance. His strength."

"Go. I have this," Thandroot told me.

Leech was busy concentrating on his staff. The light flared brighter, and the walls were better illuminated. I wished he had a super bright LED.

I pushed myself up from the ground, my muscles aching from the recent battle. As I stood, I took in our surroundings for the first time. We were in a room that felt like it had once been part of something much larger. The ceiling stretched high above us, disappearing into shadows that Leech's magical light couldn't quite reach.

The walls told a story of their own. To my left, intricate hand-painted murals covered the stone surface. Faded figures danced across scenes of battle and celebration, their colors muted by time but somehow beautiful. I was drawn to one particular image - a group of warriors standing before what looked like the Nexus itself.

On the opposite wall, it was a different story. Bare stone greeted my eyes, pockmarked and scarred as if it had weathered countless battles. The contrast was stark.

Trogs' voice snapped me out of my observations. "Liam, over here!"

I made my way across the room, careful not to disturb Darby and Thandroot as they tended to Sylara. Trogs was crouched near a far corner, his scaly hands running along the edge of what looked like a crack in the wall.

"I think this might be our way out," he said, his voice a low rumble.

I knelt beside him, peering into the darkness. It was indeed a tunnel, but calling it 'tight' would have been an understatement. It was barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through.

"You can't fit."

"This is true. You, however, may be able to squeeze through. On the other hand, maybe you can find a release for that." Trogs pointed.

Across from us was a sheer copper wall. I approached and ran my hands over it and quickly realized it was a large door. No amount of pushing or prodding opened it up.

"Maybe there's a latch on the other side," I said.

"This was exactly my thought as well."

"Shit," I said under my breath.

Since we arrived in Eldrath, I'd faced countless monsters, but I had not faced anything this terrifying. The walls had crashed together, creating a natural tunnel. I couldn't see inside because it was too dark. The small light in the room behind us only illuminated the entryway until there was a turn. I'd have to go in there literally blind, as I imagined crawling into that narrow space.

I tried to steady my voice as I said. "Fine. I'll go in, but I'm not happy about it. I already feel like I'm about to puke."

Before I could talk myself out of it, I got down on my hands and knees and began to inch my way into the tunnel. The walls pressed in on either side. I focused on moving forward, one hand in front of the other, trying not to think about the weight of the stone above me or how far I might have to go before reaching the other side.

“I don’t like this!”

I had to feel ahead with my hand. I ran into another wall, but there were two directions. I studied my new map, but it wasn't showing me anything new.

The tunnel was so narrow I could barely move my arms. Each breath felt like a struggle, the stale air thick and oppressive. I tried to focus on moving forward, but my mind kept wandering to darker places.

What if the tunnel collapsed? What if I got stuck? What if there was no way out? I couldn’t help but remember the story of the spelunker who had become trapped upside down in a tunnel at Nutty Putter Caves. A rescue crew had set up a rig to get him out, but he was lodged in such a way that they would have had to break his legs. He was stuck for 28 hours before he died.

My entire body shuddered. I wanted to get out. Out of this fucking hole!

“Trogs! Can you hear me?” I yelled.

A muffled voice came back, but I couldn’t make out the words.

I pushed the thoughts aside, gritting my teeth as I crawled onward. The darkness was absolute, pressing in on all sides. I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face. The only sound was my own ragged breathing and the scrape of my armor against stone.

As I continued, the tunnel began to twist and turn. Left, then right, then left again. I lost all sense of direction. Panic began to set in, my chest tightening with each labored breath. I couldn't even turn around to go back. I'd have to inch backward on my hands and knees.

"Keep it together, Liam," I muttered to myself, but my voice sounded small and scared in the confines of the tunnel.

I tried to remember which way I'd come, but it was hopeless. Every direction felt the same in the pitch black. My breathing became more rapid and shallow. I was hyperventilating, my mind racing. I would be able to heal myself several times before I finally expired here. They wouldn’t be able to get me out.

Just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore, a small red dot appeared on my wayfinder map. It pulsed gently, like a beacon in the darkness. I focused on it, using it to orient myself.

I had no idea what the beacon symbolized. Was it a person? A door? I pushed forward, following the red dot's guidance. I left at the next fork and went straight ahead. The tunnel seemed to widen slightly. A gentle breeze touched my cheeks.

With a desperate surge forward, I burst from the claustrophobic nightmare of the tunnel, gasping for air. For a moment, I simply stood there, hands on my knees, gulping in great lungfuls of air that tasted sweeter than any I could remember.

I didn’t get a chance to savor the moments. At least half a dozen figures loomed into view and towered over me. A familiar voice said, “Hello, Liam.”