Over the next few days, Earon managed to gain another point in rune crafting and a couple in featherweight as he spent long nights studying and rewriting the rune.

Whilst zap had its uses, he had ultimately decided that featherweight was the better spell, and as such spent far more time working on it. Not only did it provide a ranged attack, which he desperately needed, but it had a lot of room for tinkering. Whereas Zap was essentially just a weak melee attack, even if there was some room for creativity.

Improving his rune crafting and the spell itself made it more powerful, and increased his ability to alter weight, not just by amount but also the precision of weight change. But there was another aspect to it, the art of infusing the weight into his stones at just the right time, and Earon was getting pretty good at it. Now, he was able to increase the weight just before the stones left his hand so that his movement flinging the stones gained the momentum of the increased weight without being affected by his strength.

Trudels filled an entire dining hall with all kinds of foods - meat, cakes, stews, and soups - to name a few. The golem housekeepers had been extra busy preparing it all, and he had even expelled some rather valuable reagents just to summon white flour and honey, along with other ingredients that were not really possible to come by in the Scarworld.

The feast seemed a little over the top to Earon, but he happily indulged. The two of them had become friends over the last months, and he was going to miss the ancient caster.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll be leaving then, I guess?”

Earon nodded.

“Well, there’s a passage I know of. Based on my runes, I believe it to be undamaged by the recent quakes. Your training pal, Golem Figs can lead you to the surface. He will be more than a match for any wondering fiends nearby, but the further he goes from me, the weaker he will become, so be careful. By the time you reach the surface, he will barely be able to move his limbs, and you won’t be able to rely on him. By then, the path should be fairly safe, not to mention you’ve gotten pretty strong now.”

“Thank you, Trudels. You really don’t have to do any more for me, but I do appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, in fact.”

"Don't mention it," Trudels said, reddening a little.

"I almost forgot," Earon raising a finger. "There's been something I've wanted to ask you about." he rummaged through his pockets a moment before producing the ominous vial. "This, do you know what it is?"

"Ah," Trudels hummed, pulling out a magnifying glass as he dipped toward Earon. "How did you come by this?"

"A withered old woman. She was creepy... disappeared in a cloud of green smoke."

"That be a witch alright. And this be one of her potions or toxins, depending on who you ask. Can't quite say what it is, but I can tell you that it is fairly powerful." Trudels sighed. "Problem is, witch's potions can do all kinds of things, both malicious and beneficial. And there is always an inherent risk when drinking one."

"So, what do I do with it?"

"Keep it, I would. But I wouldn't drink it unless you either learn of what it does or have nothing left to lose."

Earon nodded, eyeing the suspicious vial, and returned it to his pocket.

A lighter mood followed as drinks were shared, and the two ended the evening with pipes filled with eldritch grass, laughing to childhood stories in front of the fireplace late into the night.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The next day, a wobbly Trudels appeared carrying a purple pouch as Earon prepared to leave. “Here,” He croaked, placing the pouch down in front of Earon. “Reagents, a little bit of just about everything I could find. They’ll give you a good start, though I doubt they’ll last long on the road.”

The pouch weighed heavier than Earon had expected, and he tied it straight to his belt. “There really is too much to thank you for, Trudels. I don’t know how I’ll ever get the chance to repay you.”

“A little bit of unexpected company for this ancient soul is enough. Just try to keep yourself alive, okay?”

Earon nodded. He checked his packs and pouched, making sure any drawstrings and buckles were firmly tightened and adjusting his new cloak - a simple, brown thing Trudels had lying around.

“Well, best get off them. The day’s not growing any younger.”

“Farewell, Master Trudels. I hope we meet again.” Earon said, then in an instant leaped forward and grasped the old caster around the shoulders for a firm hug.

"Off, off with you," Trudels said, smiling broadly.

Earon nodded and turned for the winding path of rock that was flanked by vertical edges that dropped down to an ocean of magma below.

"Bye!" Earon called as he waved, disappearing up the path.

"Good luck, boy," Trudels shouted as he merrily waved goodbye.

Trekking uphill was no easy task underground, especially not when the heat of the magma licked at your back. But after so much time beneath the surface, Earon was beyond eager to get back to Caedstad.

The path he took was meant to be fairly safe, and with the golem at his side, Earon doubted he’d have much trouble. But there was a part of him that wanted to practice his stone-throwing. Even if it did mean a potentially deadly encounter.

Instead, he would have to settle for flinging the pebbles at pillars of rock along his journey to pass the time.

The trip would take a couple of days, but the golem knew the way. And before he knew it, Earon would be back in the surface world.

*****

Lexi dropped her head, not that it really mattered too much. There wasn’t a sliver of light after all.

She tenderly rubbed at her bruised arms and shoulders. What had she been thinking? Why would she, some poor street urchin, be able to use this entrance to reach the catacombs when none else had?

It was foolish, no beyond foolish. It was straight-up idiotic.

Sighing, she slumped into her chest. Was wanting something better so bad? She hadn't asked for much, just something a little better than what she had. Had she really deserved this?

She felt like crying, but her tears had dried out years ago. The soul can only handle so much pain, and now numbness was what dwelled within.

Lexi smiled at the thought. Smiled at the humility of it all. Why wouldn’t this happen to her after the first good thing that came into her life?

“Bastards,” she whispered. Not to anyone in particular. That was just kind of how she saw the world, and the cruel people within it.

Pedar was one of her few friends and look how quickly he had betrayed her. No, he wasn’t a friend, but rather an accomplice. They were no different than business partners. Bound by greed. To say otherwise was a lie, and Lexi knew it.

She tapped her head gently against the wall. Perhaps if she slammed it hard enough, it would end. It would be better than starving or freezing; whichever took her first.

Lexi considered the thought; how fast would she need to do it?

A gentle rumbling began to spread across the ground, and Lexi tilted her head as she laid out her palms and felt the vibrations.

Barely a second later, bricks began to shift, and debris fell from the ceiling.

Lexi jumped to her feet and leaped across the small ledge, turning to watch in complete darkness as the bricks grated and crumbled.

Everything shook a moment later, and she found herself instinctively stretching out her arms to stabilize herself.

A light appeared, glowing somewhere far in the distance, and it was getting closer. Bobbing through the dark, a figure held the light and a face illuminated by its blue glow.

It was a young man.

Lexi watched with wide eyes as the figure moved closer, seemingly walking up a steep staircase from beyond the wall.

What could he be doing here?

Closer he moved, and within moments he was stepping through the crumbled brick and onto the narrow passage as water passed below and flowed into a subterranean waterfall that the staircase arched over.

The man bent his head, his big brown eyes and soft smile staring into Lexi.

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” she accidentally retorted, almost as if offended.

“Oh, apologies. I just hadn’t expected anyone down here. My master had suggested it would be empty.” The man said, scratching at the back of his short brown hair. “The name’s Earon.”