“I’m sorry—you did such a good job.”

Keira was profoundly serious as she apologised to her trousers. With the adrenaline wearing off, her pain had gotten worse and she decided her swollen knee and ankle needed to be free. She had ordered Finlay to find her something sharp and after a quick search around the machine he had come back with a multitool which had a small knife attachment.

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

“If we get out of here, I’m going to frame them.”

“I think the helmet did most of the work.”

“That’s getting a monument.”

She managed to cut the leather material up and past her knee which was worse than they had believed. Though there were no cuts, the trousers had protected her in that regard, they couldn’t do much for the impact and her knee was swollen and purple from bruising.

“You’re not going anywhere on that.”

“Are you intending on carrying me out of here?”

“We’ll worry about that when we find a way out. You should elevate it.”

“On what?”

Finlay took the bag from her and removed half of his clothes which he wrapped together and placed on the ground as a pillow. Then he wedged the bag with the rest of his clothes above the machine's wheel.

“Lie down, put your leg up here, it'll help with the swelling.”

“I don’t think anything's broken.”

She had been trying to move it but was wincing from the pain as she showed him her ability to flex the ankle. He smiled in answer and helped her get into position, making sure everything was stable.

It was difficult seeing her in pain and he couldn't help but worry that her injuries were worse than they appeared. There wasn't much more he could do so he decided to try and find another route out of the mine. He felt the need to keep focusing on what he could do because otherwise, he’d dwell on the ridiculous situation they were in and the fact his father might not have made it.

“Finlay…”

He hadn’t realised he was standing over her, eyes closed and zoned out until she spoke but that was enough to snap him out of it.

“Some of them might have escaped to the mine, like us, he might still be alive, might be here.”

It was comforting, and though each moment made him doubt it, he was thankful she had tried to reassure him. He couldn’t dwell on things he didn’t know; right now, what he did know was that they were trapped and she was injured.

“You’re right. I’m going to look for another way out. I’ll believe in Dad—he’s alive; somewhere, but right now I need to get you to safety.”

She looked as though she was going to respond but hesitated.

“Thanks, Keira,” he continued, “Try and rest. I’ll be back soon.”

He picked up the multitool deciding it might be useful and chose one of the tunnels that extended from the open area at random, they all looked the same anyway. He checked one last time that she was okay and comfortable and then set off to find something that might bring them real hope.

It was long and monotonous. There was no change or distinction along the way and he wasn’t even sure what the purpose of the tunnel was. This mountain range was particularly rich in mineral resources and it supported Aberana in its entirety. He suspected that each of the tunnels led to some significant area or depth that would allow easier access to a particular ore but he had never thought to ask much about it when he’d visited in the past.

He wondered if he’d see some mineral veins or that it might open into a cavern with crystals and interesting resources, but so far all he’d found was the same rock. He felt like he’d been walking in a straight line but after feeling lost for some time, was starting to question if that was the case.

It was better to keep his mind on these mundane thoughts because when he let it wander, panic, fear and doubt plagued him. It was terrifying, the creatures outside nearly killed both of them and he had no idea if that fate had befallen his father. But he had to stay strong, Keira was injured and only in this situation because of him so now he’d do whatever he could to find a way out for them.

It wasn’t an exit, not an escape route that he found but something else—a wall very different from the sides of the tunnel. After walking longer than he was sure of and questioning whether he should turn back for the seventh time, the tunnel hit something new. It was a smooth black stone with a greenish pearlescence to it that caught his eye as he moved around. The tunnel split and followed the wall in opposite directions with no obvious signs of an entrance.

Using the multitool, he etched a small mark in the ground at the tunnel fork before following one of the new routes. It wasn’t long before he circled around and found the marking he had left confirming his suspicion.

The surface was unnatural but it was recognisable. The shrine in Aberana, the place of the Ancients and the focus of the guild was also made from a black polished stone. He had never seen it in person but everyone knew about it as it was just like this, a polished black stone that resembled opaque glass and seemed impossible as a structure. But that meant that here, deep within the mountain range, buried and revealed by the mine was another structure built by the Ancients.

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He touched the stone for the first time—it was warm. Even more surprising was the shimmering wave of green that reflected the dim light and spread out from his hand until it disappeared into the stone tunnel. He had pulled his hand back when he saw that pulsing wave. He knew of the shrine in Aberana, knew of the glass-like quality but there had never been a mention of shimmering pulsing colours that reacted to touch.

After a hesitating moment, he decided to press it back again. Once more the green pulsed away from his hand, and once more he felt how warm it was. But there was more—a sound that he couldn’t hear but feel resonated through him like a slow heartbeat. This wasn't a normal structure, not a building like any other, it felt alive.

His mind raced but not because of the strange properties of this wall but what the structure meant. If the ancients built here then there had to be another way out. Did the miners find it, did they already escape through it? But there was no way in, he had already circled the wall and there was no opening or other tunnel that would have led to an entrance. They wouldn’t have left it like this without trying to get inside though they had dug around it. Did the birds outside come soon after, did they not get the chance to try and get inside or was there something else he was missing?

There were too many questions, too many thoughts and he wasn’t sure how to process them all but the one thing he was sure of was that this was a chance to find safety. He could go back and tell her but it wasn't as though he had found anything helpful. There was no exit here, no escape, he knew there had to be something here but he couldn't think how to get there.

He pressed his hand to the surface again and again he felt that beating sensation as the green shimmer pulsed away from him. It was comforting in a strange way that he couldn’t completely understand, as though the structure was reaching out to him, talking to him in its own special way.

But then he was falling.

At least that’s the sensation he felt as if his body had drifted off to sleep and then snapped back to consciousness. It couldn't have been more than a second but felt like far longer in that strange daze and then when he came back to reality he was no longer in the tunnel facing the wall. He was standing in another room, a large circular space that extended upwards for as far as he could see.

The room was a giant pillar of that shimmering black stone with platforms that he could only see the bottom of, at various heights above him. The ground he stood on was also made from that same black stone and as he took a few steps forward the green pulsing that had extended from the walls to his touch did the same from his boots. It was bright, more so than the tunnel but with a gentle white hue that radiated from an unknown and unseen source.

At the centre of the room, there was a large circular platform with steps all around it and on top, a pedestal made from the same black stone as the rest of the structure. Each step created a ripple that pulsed out from him as though the floor, the stairs, the pedestal and the walls were water that he had dropped a stone into.

He had been walking towards the pedestal since finding himself in the room without realising why. He was being drawn towards it, drawn towards the small, bright green light that shone on top of it. The same green that caught his eye, the same shimmering reflection that rippled over the stone but this was constant. Its source was what looked like a single candle flame and the light from it was brighter and clear compared to the glassy stone's reflection. It danced in the air, not attached to anything, no wick or source of its fuel but instead, it floated above the pedestal.

Everything was too big for such a small thing to be the centre of focus. The pillar was huge, and the structure extended on for what seemed forever. The room was empty except for the platform and this tiny flame which he didn't understand any more than how he got here or what was happening to him.

But there was something about this flame that drew him towards it. It wasn’t erratic in movement or flickering with wild enthusiasm, it swayed gently with an irregular but calm beat. It was soothing to look at and he found himself walking closer until he stood before it with an arm outstretched like a child that had found something new and exciting to get their hands on.

His fingers brushed through the tiny flame before he considered what he was doing and without fear of burning. The flame had no reaction to his touch, no change to the gentle swaying and all he felt was the same warmth as the walls. He turned his hand over, moving it in and out of the flame in idle curiosity as he started to become much more aware of where he was and what he was doing.

He hadn’t panicked earlier but now he realised he had no idea how he got here, nor had he any idea how to get back out. The walls around him were solid, the same walls he had touched before and there was no way out of the strange circular structure. No staircase to upper platforms or doorways that he could see, but it was only now that he had his hand touching this flame that didn’t react to him that these thoughts came back to him.

When he pulled his hand out, the same wave of comfort fell over him and again those thoughts faded as his focus came back to the little flame. Without realising he had reached back out so that it passed straight through his open palm, appearing again on the backside of his hand as if it weren’t there. Within moments of doing so, his mind began to clear and he started to realise where he was. It was as though the flame forced him to approach it and only when he touched it could he think for himself again.

“What’s going on?” He couldn’t help but speak out loud and for the first time, he realised just how much of an echo resonated around the structure. When his words faded into the distance, he wondered if his footsteps were as loud. If he wasn't so enthralled by the flame he might have noticed.

Panic crept back into his mind as he now realised what a strange and difficult situation he had fallen into. Not only did he not know how he got here, nor how to get out but he also seemed trapped by this little green flame that forced him into a stupor whenever he wasn't touching it. Without meaning to and without thinking due to the panic and fear that came over him, he dropped his hand and once again the same pattern of calming and desire to touch the flame captured him.

The calming effect of the room, albeit disorientating, did help when he was able to recover his thoughts. But even in clarity he couldn't see a way out, he couldn't think of a way to escape from this strange place. Exhaustion was already plaguing him, his body was struggling and now his mind was getting thrown back and forth between panic and serenity without reason beyond the strange room and the stranger flame.

He tried again, choosing to remove his hand from the candle and focusing as hard as he could on keeping his mind straight. He thought about where to go, thought about escaping, thought about getting back to Keira but all of those thoughts washed away within mere moments before once again he found himself holding his hand over the flame.

“How do I get out of here, what do I do?!” He was talking out loud again as though it was easier to process due to the cluttered thoughts and questions about what was going on in his mind.

He searched the room, turning around the pedestal with one hand held over it but it was all the same. One big circle with the stairs in the centre that led to the pedestal and nothing more to it, nothing to help him. The same stone walls stretched up for what seemed like an eternity and there was no sign that he could get up to the platforms above.

"There has to be a way out, if I can get in I can get out."

His voice was getting louder as panic was setting in, but then something pushed its way through, a thought that was not his own. It wasn't an emotion or feeling that urged it forward. It wasn't an idea that appeared or an insight from somewhere deep within. It was like a consciousness separate from himself, some presence of mind that manifested the thought and compelled his body to utter the words for it out loud as though using him for its own intentions.

“You can leave at any time—you need only to ask.”