And so he descended, now accompanied only by silence. And for how long, he did not know. Nor did he care, the cave had grown comfortable to him long ago and he found solace in the fact that it continued deeper than he could imagine.

There was possibility, life had sprung further above. Even an enigma such as the waters with the light, and the sounds which grew to him so tiring at the time, those were examples of life. The Shade, the best example of all, a creature he understood well enough had not yet chosen the cave, for it knew itself well. And yet it lived and breathed, this brought him to further depths still. The thoughts of above did him well enough, he could descend down as far as need be, no matter how deep.

And the light behind him, ever faithful, followed him.

He heard sounds of more water at a time, of distant echoes far away of untold things. But he watched the path in front of him, and embraced his descent. Although his nostalgia had fueled him before, now it was a slight curiosity and pride. He had seen before, and he wished to see again, at least to the extent the cave could fully offer him. He owed it that much.

He descended to the very depths, and the light followed him still. As his eyes focused on the upcoming wall that signaled the cave’s culmination, a gold glint shimmered in the twilight. The man’s eyes scanned it, and more so than his time in the sands, he believed time truly turned to a stop.

What lay there was the other half of his crown, with the perfectly matching jagged crack of his own. And on this crown were those same spikes, but these ones were still radiant and spiked with arrogance. The man thought how funny a sight it would look, wearing his non-uniform crown out to the dragon.

And he thought of the reflection it had, in the deepest part of the cave. Gold hidden beyond all else. He did not care for why it was here, he simply pondered. For the crown had revealed a deep truth to him, in regards to the Dragon’s questioning of his name.

He was a conceited fellow, believing that his sight would always lead him to the path he’d wished to go. He seldom had honor, but still tried to put on a show when it had to be. He felt terribly at pain or disaster, and never was smart enough to think why that’s so. He believed he had nobility, but he never understood it.

And he really understood nothing at all about his former self, everything had been washed away far too cleanly. But that partial understanding of himself was what now accompanied what he arrived at.

His name was Epim. It was something he had once held with pride, and the thought of it ever letting go filled him with momentary dread, but only momentary. For he understood that even without his name, he still wandered the sands.

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He picked the half of the crown from the ground, latching it to his pants. He took a moment to admire the depth, how it existed here all the while the world above continued on.

He thought of the branching systems, and their countless possibilities. He had not yet seen it all, and perhaps he never would. But the things he had seen were enough for a lifetime and beyond, they had been experiences that had been unknown to him before but now shaped his world. And that is a significance that can not be overstated.

Epim then thought long and hard, of if who he had encountered had even thought of how deep he’d journey. He’d thought about if the Reaper was still wondering if he was savoring the view. He wondered, was the Dragon waiting for him with his cloak? Were there perhaps other tales of the Fairy in the sands?

Epim ascended, hoping to find the answer.

He passed through the long slopes of the cave, not ever thinking about the distance he had to cover. His legs had long grown used to travel.

Up he went, not daring to presume he knew what was to come with the cave. Just because he was trodding a treaded path did not mean he had the presumption of knowing.

All this time, still the light followed.

And yet the first thing he saw were his footsteps, and he was once again in the place filled with life. He looked around him in comfort, and saw the same pond as before.

For a moment, he stopped his walk and thought. After which he headed out, back from the yellow-gray grasses to the red sickly ones, and further still to the cage he and the Shade had been trapped in.

He remembered with satisfaction their escape together, and then looked at the ground. He saw the gash on the ground the Shade had caused with its clawed appendage. He thought of how much force, how much effort it must have needed to stay pinned in the solid cave floor.

He had nothing but respect, and so he went further up still.

He reached the waters, and began to trudge upward still. The down current pushed him back with every step, but he did not mind. The light behind him had once called the place home, and the extra time spent here was no trouble at all.

He left the waters and climbed further upward still, his legs aching but rejoicing their freedom from the push of the waters. And once again he was filled with the endless echoes, repetitions of his actions that bounced off the cave walls. That disordinate music that had deigned to drive him mad before.

But now he could only laugh, for his footsteps upward bounced off the ground with an echo as well, and in the clashing of sounds a beautiful harmony was found.

Epim thought how peculiar it was, how fast he could ascend but how endless his descent was. And he wished for a moment it was different, how he wished he could take the time to savor the sights.

And in front of him he saw the entrance of the cave, the twilight bleeding in through the opening and beckoning him forward, just as the light behind him ushered him forward with that same eternal, beautiful twilight.