Chapter 3: Trial By Fire
They walked for what seemed like hours, the sounds of their footsteps only accompanied by the occasional sound of dripping water, or the skittering sound of some tiny insect or creature hiding behind the stalagmites.
It was a hard journey, even for a fully-grown adult. The naturally formed expanse of the limestone caverns was incredibly treacherous at times, with steep and sudden cliffs, uneven ground and narrow tunnels you had to get on your hands and feet to crawl through. Ru Meng had tripped and fallen over more than a few times now. His knees and elbows were bloody and muddy from all the scrapes and scuffs he had had to endure. His father just kept going, navigating the complicated labyrinth with remarkable ease and familiarity, never stopping or pausing to rest.
Ru Meng struggled to keep up, but did his best anyway. He was afraid his father would vanish into the darkness and he would be lost, blind and alone, only able to feel the muggy, humid heat of the air pressing in on him. The only voices left to him then would be those in his head and those voices, they spoke the loudest in the dark. Ru Meng didn’t cry, even when his knees throbbed and his feet ached. His father made it very clear that they were supposed to be silent. Ru Meng was afraid to know why. When he couldn’t bear the silence anymore, he would run his fingers over his chest, touching the two coins. The edge of the coin that had been sharpened with magic was cool to the touch and comforting in a strange way.
Eventually, the air started to change. It turned warmer and drier. It felt like there was sand in the back of Ru Meng’s throat when he breathed. There was a weird smell in the air, something foul and unpleasant. The walls of the caves were also different now. They were darker, rougher and coarser, completely unlike the limestone that Ru Meng had seen all his life. The stones were warm to the touch when he put his hand on them.
All of a sudden, his father stopped walking. He beckoned Ru Meng over and they both squatted down.
“Do you hear that?” his father whispered.
Ru Meng closed his eyes and listened. He could hear his own breathing. His father’s breathing. A slight breeze brushed his cheek. Then, a strange cry, faint, in the distance. Like if someone screaming had suddenly choked. He nodded at his father.
“Those are hellrats. They are creatures of the Abyss and you will find them everywhere once you go deep enough into the caves. Hellrats are weak compared to most other Abyss creatures. They are the most ideal training partners for you right now. Watch.”
His father took out an iron marble and wrapped the light talisman around it, creating a glowing orb. He drew his sword and recited the Spell of Metalworking, followed by the Spell of Sharpening. The orb of light rose from his palm and the sword started levitating as well. The blade of the sword glowed faintly. He pushed one hand forward and the orb went sailing through the air into the darkness. A few seconds later, he made a pulling motion and the orb flew back towards them.
Silence.
Then, an unholy screeching sound assaulted their ears. Five ghastly black figures leaped out of the shadows, bursting into flames as they lunged at their prey. Ru Meng’s father waved his hand, and the sword decapitated one of the beasts and knocked another one aside with the flat of the blade in the same motion. Dark blood splattered across the ground and onto the walls.
“That one’s yours,” said his father to him, before turning his attention back to the three remaining hellrats, who seemed significantly more cautious now.
The hellrat that had been knocked into the wall groggily scurried onto its feet, its one eye swiveling about as it tried to reorient itself. Now that the beast was right in front of him, Ru Meng could see what an ugly monstrosity it was. It was larger than a badger, with long skinny limbs, sharp claws and an equally long and slender neck that ended with a single eyeball and a mouth where its head should be. A viscous, slimy goo oozed from all the gaps between its shiny black scales, visible through the flames it was engulfed in.
Ru Meng froze. Everything was happening so quickly. He didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart beating, trying to leap out of his chest. He was supposed to kill this thing? Kill? He needed his dagger to do that. He needed to pull his dagger out of the sheath and stab it. Or cut it. But he didn’t want to. Not really. He didn’t want to kill anyone or anything. Why did he have to do this?
The hellrat finally found its bearing. It opened its mouth and hissed at Ru Meng, flaring its many little fangs. It scampered across the ground with its skinny legs.
Ru Meng’s fumbling fingers finally found their way onto the handle of the dagger. He drew it and started to chant, “Mo.Yi.Chü.Ke, Zak.Tin.Yün.Mo…”
The dagger wobbled slightly in his hand. He repeated the spell again and nothing happened.
The hellrat lunged at him, screeching as it did so. Ru Meng stumbled backward, just barely dodging out of the way. Drops of the hellrat’s mysterious ooze splashed across the ground. The droplets of ooze burned as they lay there, on the dirt.
The hellrat turned around and stared at Ru Meng with its one glossy eye. It bent its slender neck and a strange gurgling sound came from its throat. It whipped its mouth forward and spat a burning glob of goo at Ru Meng. He quickly ducked and avoided the fireball, but the hellrat was already tackling him. He leaned back and fell to his butt, narrowly avoiding the hellrat again.
Ru Meng felt a strange, stinging pain on his cheek. He brought one hand to his cheek and found blood. Bright red and smelling of coins. Ru Meng was deathly afraid; there was no question of that. In that moment he felt fear shooting through his veins like ice-cold water, crystal clear and freezing, but beyond all that, as he stared at the red liquid smeared on his fingers, he saw the truth. He wasn’t afraid of the grotesque beast threatening to chew his face off; he wasn’t afraid of dying or pain; he was afraid of himself. He was afraid he would be a disappointment again, lettings things happen without ever trying hard enough. He was afraid that, deep down, he was just a spineless coward, incapable of change or anything good, someone who only invited misfortune and disaster.
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He felt the cold streak in his blood turn boiling hot, turn so searing and blisteringly red it hurt to even breathe.
He hated himself. And he would do anything to change.
The hellrat pounced once more. Ru Meng gritted his teeth and snatched the hellrat by its neck. He didn’t feel the heat initially, but almost immediately after, he could feel it singe the palm of his hand. It was a bright, unbearable pain and every instinct of his small body was telling him to let go immediately. He refused to. He deserved to hurt.
He grabbed the hellrat tightly by its neck, squeezing a horrid scream out of the Abyss creature, and pinned it firmly to the ground. The pain from his hands washed over him like a giant wave and he felt his knees go weak. But Ru Meng persisted. Kneeling on the ground, he lifted the dagger in his right hand and brought it down on the hellrat, hacking and chopping with the full force that his ten-year-old frame could muster. There was no technique or control.
More than once, the blade of the dagger landed on his own hand, digging into the bone. The scales of the hellrat were tough and the dagger’s blade was dull. Ru Meng raised the blade over his head again and again, so many times that he felt like his arm was about to fall off. Tears streamed down his face. It hurt so much, he wanted to give up and run home and hide in his little corner. And that impulse was why he deserved this.
Finally, the hellrat went completely still. Ru Meng felt nothing. He felt an emptiness ripple throughout his entire being. He could barely feel his left hand anymore, even though it was still burning from the residual ooze of the hellrat and his right hand just felt stiff, like a block of stone. He breathed deep and felt the relief of oxygen rushing into his lungs like a cool and much-needed breeze.
His father was finished on the other side as well. He walked over and grabbed Ru Meng’s hand. He poured water onto his hand, putting out the flames and relieving the burns. Ru Meng stared at his hand as his father cleaned his wounds and bandaged them.
The world looked hazy. He felt light. He felt good. He patted his chest with his right hand. The coins were still there.
Ru Meng thought one last thing to himself before he fell unconscious, “My thumb looks like it’s about to fall off.”
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The study was modest by all standards on the surface world, with the cheap lacquerwork of the furniture, the scant ornaments on display and the worn-down paper screens of the wooden lattice doors. Here in the Undercity, however, these alone were extravagant displays of wealth only the mayor himself could afford.
A woman was seated in a chair across the study table, right next to the numerous wooden shelves stacked full of books. Her daughter sat beside her, a toddler no more than three or four years old. The little girl was batting at the ink brushes dangling from a wooden stand at the table. Her mother had already pulled her hands back and made her put them on her knees several times, chastising her gently as she did so.
Finally, the doors slid open and a short man with a perfectly trimmed mustache walked in.
“You’re here,” said the man as he walked briskly to the table and sat down.
“Mayor Wei,” the woman greeted him in return. “Have you considered what I said last time?”
The mayor stared into the woman’s eyes and looked away apologetically before he said, “Of course.”
“Then why have you still not taken any action?”
The mayor paused for a moment, trying to find the right words as he explained himself, “Like I said before, he’s been missing for over a month now. If he hasn’t returned to the Undercity yet, it likely means that he’s already dead. We are already short-handed enough as it is. Losing him has been a huge strain on our resources. I can’t send more people to go look for him, not at the risk of compromising the city’s security.”
“We don’t know if he’s actually dead yet. And if there’s even the slightest possibility he’s alive, Wei De Xin, you owe it to him to go save him. Dead or alive, you need to bring him back. You know this!” shouted the woman, leaning in and scowling at the mayor, as if he wasn’t the most powerful person in this underground world.
The young girl looked a little scared to see her mother so angry. She couldn’t understand what they were talking about, but somehow, she knew that they were talking about her father, who she hadn’t seen in a long time. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her mother seemed to notice this and immediately put her hands around her.
The mayor was quiet for a long time. Finally, he said, “You’re right. I should have done something sooner. I’ll send someone as soon as I can afford to. Hopefully, things aren’t as bad as we think. Is there anything else I can help you with? It’s my job to take care of Song Teng’s family while he’s not around, after all.”
He offered a meek smile to the woman and her daughter.
The woman sighed and said, “We will manage.”
As she got up to leave, she hesitated for a moment, before saying, “If…if he really is dead, he told me that he went down there to go look for his brother and his nephew and bring them back. If he’s really dead, I hope you can at least bring them back for him. The nephew, at least. A boy shouldn’t have to grow up down there, in the darkness and the shadows.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Once the woman had left with her daughter, the mayor called for someone outside in Malay, “Nazirudin, come in.”
A tall man with large sunken eyes and fierce eyebrows walked into the room. He did not have a particularly imposing physique, but his deep-set eyes lent him an unusual intensity.
“You heard everything, yes? Go, find Song Teng. Retrace his steps. Start with his brother. And be careful. Song Teng was not weak or stupid. The Redbloods could be behind this, but I doubt it, not when the Darktide is so soon. Which means the person who is most likely responsible for his disappearance might just be his own blood brother. Get the kid if you can,” said the mayor.
“Are you sure, boss? I want to save Song Teng as much as anyone else, but we only have a few months until the Darktide and there are still a lot of loose ends to deal with. We haven’t even finished clearing out all the Abyss creatures around the city. And judging from what happened last time, the Darktide this year is only gonna be more dangerous and deadly.”
The mayor sighed and said, “The rest of us can work overtime to make up for it, but it’s going to be hard. I’ll assign your men to Kharak in the meantime. A lot of people are going to die this year, Naz.”
“Maybe it’s time for a truce, boss. We can go talk to those people. None of them will want to watch their people die either. The Darktide will be much worse for them than for us.”
“No, not yet. The Redbloods are extremists, through and through. They won’t settle for anything less than outright rebellion. There’s nothing we can offer them, not unless things get more desperate. Fang Chen Yu, on the other hand, is a vicious jackal. Give him an inch and he will bite off your hand. We can get by on our own for now.”
“Not without losses. Perhaps if we used those…”
“Out of the question. It’s too early to even think about it. Now go. Song Teng might still be alive if we’re lucky.”
The tall man nodded and stepped out of the room.
The mayor remained in his study, left with his own thoughts and endless worries. A long sigh echoed between the four walls.