Hovering near the ceiling, Eldan took in the entirety of the cavern, feeling like he was floating over a mountainous woodland in a world only loosely tethered by the laws of gravity. He saw several openings and passages dotted on the walls, and a few more on the ceiling, leading off into shadowy recesses. He tried to orient himself, memorizing where the entrance he had used sat in relation to the landscape of spires and arches, but worried the attempt might be useless. The array of stone structures was too complex and labyrinthine, and made more disorienting by the constantly fluctuating veins of light.
The eel had disappeared after entering the cave, so Eldan descended to the floor alone, letting his body fall under its own weight. He kept his arms out, making small circular motions occasionally to keep his progress slow and steady, watching his surroundings for any signs of movement or life. When he neared the tops of the translucent, arboresque growths, he guided himself toward a jutting stone spire, sliding down it with one hand until his feet gently touched the bottom, sinking into the mossy bed. The crystalline substance that covered the floor was soft and springy, somehow simultaneously firm and gelatinous. He crouched down and ran his fingers through it, marveling at how the tiny fronds gave at his touch before springing back into position.
Eldan padded toward one of the tall stalks, bouncing lightly across the floor in long, floating steps. The trunk felt soft and rubbery under his hands, firmer than the small fronds at the ground, though when he pressed on a branch experimentally it bent and sprang back much the same way. As he studied the tree he realized a single filament of light, as thin as sewing thread, stretched up through its core, splitting into even finer threads that ran through each branch. Unlike the lights that ran over the stones, these were constant and unmoving, like a hair-thin, luminous skeletal structure. When he traced his hand over the thread the light showed no reaction, not flickering, thrumming or racing to follow his movements. Curious, he stepped away from the trunk, kneeling down again to examine the tiny stalks more closely. Pushing them back gently he saw that each one had its own minuscule thread, barely large enough to identify.
Finally, Eldan stood up to begin exploring the cavern in full, kicking off the floor to skim over the crystalline growths, winding his way through stone pillars toward the cavern walls. He kicked upward to one of the passages leading from the side, this one large enough that he was able to touch down in the opening in a standing position. He walked in short way, bracing his hands against the walls as the passage narrowed, lights swarming in excited tangles around his feet and fingers. He turned back when the passage made a hard turn, constricting significantly, after peering in as far as he could see to confirm it was not a dead end. Standing again at the opening, he made the decision to find the source of the cool, fresh water he could still feel flowing into the space. Remembering the icy cold when he first entered the lake, he glanced down at his bare chest and legs, wondering at the heat that flowed from his water-filled lungs.
Eldan kicked off the wall, swimming slowly and feeling for a current of cooler water. He traversed the space, slowing and backing up a few times when he hit a cold patch, but not yet able to identify what direction the water was coming from. He pushed off the opposite wall, heading diagonally from his original location and dropping lower in the water. As he was nearing the next wall he hit another cold spot, stopping to tread water. He moved slowly, testing the water in each direction until he found the current, following it downward, toward the wall. At first he lost the cool stream several times, having to search to pick it up again, but as he descended the current became unmistakable, flowing around him and ruffling his hair as he neared the source. He touched down at a corner, where the floor and wall met, and fresh water flowed into the cavern from a small, unassuming hole, worn perfectly smooth and round. He held his hand over it, feeling the surprising force of the inflow, and then crouched, drinking directly from the stream.
Eldan filled his belly with the fresh water, surprised by how thirsty he was, and realizing he was very hungry, too. When he was finished he sat against the wall, letting his hand play idly in the rushing water as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. The water had taken the edge off his hunger but he was acutely aware that he was essentially lost, far beneath the ground, underwater, and possibly disconnected from his own world. Even if he could find his way back to his pack of food and clothing, he still had no idea how to get out of the passage where he and Cale had started their journey. Ak’bis had said he should “take the first steps on his path” and “connect with a source,” but Eldan had no idea what either cryptic statement meant, or whether anything he had done so far was on the right path to achieving those ends. He found himself missing the company of the giant eel, and wishing it would come back.
Eldan leaned his head back, watching the patterns of light on the cavern walls. As he watched, the itch at the edge of his memory returned, and something like voices rose in his ears. He shook his head, quieting the whispers, and narrowed his eyes, staring at the patterns that blinked into existence from the chaotic tangles of luminescent filaments. With each blink, he became more convinced that the patterns were symbols, and that he was on the precipice of understanding what they meant. His mind buzzed, and this time when the whispers rose he let them chatter, the sounds washing over him while his eyes flickered in green and blue, reflecting the formations as they snapped into place, dissolved, and reformed.
“Fascinating, are they not?” Eldan jumped to his feet, looking around wildly as the voice spoke directly into his head, but he couldn’t see who, if anyone, had spoken.
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“You already know how to read them, or at least you should, if what your friend tells me is true.” The voice, lilting and feminine, echoed in Eldan’s mind, seeming to come from every direction at once. “They speak a language known to all born to our path, which is how I am speaking to you now. You hear very poorly, though, and you are all the wrong shape. I kept telling your friend to take you back, but he insisted I talk to you, so here I am.”
Finally, the speaker swam into view, trailed by the eel that had brought Eldan to the cavern. The creature who had been speaking with him looked like something between a horse, a person and a sea serpent, with a vaguely equine head topped with a finned crest that continued down its long, serpentine back, ending in a flat fluke. It had two sets of fins, but also forelegs that bent like a horse’s, terminating in five-fingered hands. It was entirely covered in silvery scales that reflected the cavern lights. It swam in a strange up and down motion, its back forming humps that rippled down to its tail. It kept its forelegs close to its body, its fingers making constant, restless movements in the water. It was bigger around than the eel, but nowhere near as long, maybe a little longer than Eldan was tall when stretched out. It came to a stop a short distance away, blinking at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
Eldan stared back, his mouth hanging slightly open. The eel hovered over the horse-serpent, looking pleased with itself, no, himself apparently. Not knowing what to do, Eldan went through the motions of speaking, silently asking “what may I call you?”
The horse-serpent looked up at the eel. “See? I told you it was a land animal,” its voice said in Eldan’s mind, without any movement of the equine mouth to indicate vocalization. The eel rippled in frustration, gesturing back at Eldan.
The creature rolled its eyes, dropping its legs as it looked at Eldan and making hand gestures as it practically shouted into his head, speaking very slowly. “Use. Your. Thoughts. To. Speak. Through. Path.” At the last word it made a wiggling gesture with its fingers, like someone might make to indicate falling water.
Eldan winced at the words thundering in his mind. He held up a finger to the horse-serpent, hoping it would understand he was asking it to wait, and closed his eyes, focusing on the buzzing in his mind. The feeling was similar to what he experienced when he reached the edge of the barrier around his physical body, and he had the sense that he needed to break through the same way with his mind now. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the heat that flowed in his body, trying to will some of it to flow into his head. He wasn’t sure if he even needed his physical brain to cross the mental threshold, but figured it couldn’t hurt.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes, staring at the patterns on the cavern walls above him, letting the itching and whispering become deafening. He started trying to push mentally, like he did with his body, but the pressure began to recede, the whispers lowering in volume. So instead, he loosened, imagining he was opening his mind completely. He let his eyes relax, allowing the patterns to play without attempting to find meaning, the whispers just noise in his head. Relenting to the influx of light and sound, he simply allowed it to pour into him, unfiltered.
The cacophony of whispers converged into a single, haunting note, becoming a slow, aching melody. Eldan focused his eyes, taking in the patterns around him again, sucking in his breath sharply as he began to understand what he was seeing. The symbols told stories of history, but on a scale of geological, even planetary or universal time. These were histories in which his species was only a fleeting breath, hardly worth mentioning. He could read them, as it were, though reading wasn’t the right word. The patterns were impressions of experiences beyond comprehension. Of a canyon carved over millennia, the movement of ice through billions of years on a frozen world, the collision of debris in empty space, groundwater seeping up to form lakes, and lakes drying to cracked deserts. There were experiences of life, too, but told in flashes, isolated symbols telling of the experience of cell membranes, blood and sap, decaying flesh seeping into the ground. In worlds layered on worlds these events repeated, playing out in endless, simultaneous variation.
“Ah, there you go.” The horse-serpent spoke again, breaking Eldan from the overwhelming torrent of impressions. “You might not want to stare like that, it’s a lot even for us that have always been able to read the path.” Eldan pulled his eyes away from the wall, lowering his gaze to the creature and the eel still circling above, the melancholy melody continuing to play in his ears.
“Hey! Turns out you were right, it’s not a land animal,” the horse-serpent called up to the eel, earning an irritated tail-flick in response.
Eldan focused, trying to project his thoughts the same way he had opened his mind to the patterns. “Can you hear me?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes! Oh, nice job. You looked very stupid to me, I apologize. Never judge a clam by its shell and all that.” The horse-serpent laced its fingers, staring at Eldan expectantly.
Eldan let his questions out in a rush, worried he might lose the tenuous connection. “I’m from the surface, a land animal, I guess. I don’t know what’s happening to me but I’m supposed to find my path and connect to a source. I was told I’m the shield of paths, but I don’t understand what that is. Please, if you can help me I would be so grateful.” He stopped, somewhat embarrassed. “And if you would, please tell me your name? I am Eldan.”
The horse-serpent froze, its expression suddenly grave. “The shield of paths…now that is a term I never expected to hear outside of legend. I cannot help you understand that role, as it is belongs to your world. I know that if one has so been named, however, all worlds are under threat.” The serpent bowed its head for a moment in thought, tapping its fingers together restlessly.
“Allow me to apologize in truth. I know of your kind but none have traveled here in millennia. When some of your species began manipulating paths for their own benefit, this one was sealed from your world. I believed you had acquired the abilities required to travel here artificially, and intended to make sure you returned with as little understanding of the natural path as possible. I expected you to fail when I asked you to connect to the path’s language…I should have realized. Come, Eldan, it seems we have little time and much to discuss.”