James

Alright, we've decided to continue without Tivil. I presume he left when he went to use the restroom.

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Jace

I may have gone insane.

Before me, I see stony stairs spiraling in senseless walkways, and whence I came, elsewhere darkness remains. I know not why the gray stairs are so distinct even in the distance, but that their uncanny visibility only adds to my unease.

This was nothing like the dungeons I know, but I hesitantly took a single step onto the first crooked stair I saw. The world seemed to tilt with the surface of each stair, a new focus of gravity with each step.

I called out as I walked, but not even an echo responded to my voice.

I am no geologist, but I do not recall having ever seen such material before. The stairs are smooth to the touch but in no way slippery—almost as if the floor was gripping the soles of my shoes as they made contact. The air feels dreadfully damp against my skin, and, whenever I exhale, it is as if the air seeks to integrate any liquid I contain into itself, drawing moisture from within, so much so that if I didn't have my flask with me, I would fear dehydration.

This is the first time in years I've wanted to drink; I'd take anything to numb the pain, really. The damp air scorches my lungs. It makes no sense, yet I know it to be true—er, at least that's how it feels. I wouldn't be writing right now if there was anything to do but walk. Even when I jump or fall off, gravity simply shifts to slam my soles into the then nearest stairs.

I think I've been getting better at keeping a journal. Of course, I've journaled in the past, but nothing consistent. Well, this isn't exactly consistent either, but it is on a much larger scale.

I finally came across something other than stairs, but at this point my legs can hardly carry me. Before me is what appears to be a thick, marble cellar door, and, though it is as heavy as one would expect, I got it open in moments. I have no doubt that desperation drove my efficiency.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Beyond the door is a hole with the appearance of a hall, with a golden domed roof on the far side, with gray granite walls, and lined with marble ionic columns as far as the eye can see. I know not why, but, as the stairs, the room itself seemed to glow, illuminating the entire room. I became so accustomed to the rules of this place that I simply assumed my feet would meet the floor of the hall the second I entered the hole, but gravity did not shift. Well, gravity did shift, but not immediately...

...

...and I didn't gracefully land on my feet.

After falling for, what, somewhere between five and fifteen seconds, the back of my head was the first part of me to violently hit the hall's marble floor. I don't know how long I was out for—it's not like the lack of a sun was any help in keeping track of time—but I didn't linger and continued down the hall once I had awoken. This time, though, I proceeded with more caution, and my caution was soon proven justified.

It took me a bit, but I eventually figured out the pattern in which gravity changed. Every four pillars, the pull of gravity would swap between deeper into the hall and into the floor. To avoid damaging myself further, I've been using the pillars to climb my way down when gravity is pulling into the hall.

Reaching the end of the hall took far longer than finding the hall to begin with, so I suppose that's a plus...

...not a big one, though.

What greeted me at the end of the hall was another thick, marble door, though this time it was a regular door, and since gravity wasn't fighting against me, it was far easier to open than the cellar door.

Past the doorframe, I can only see so much, in large due to the lack of any apparent source of light in the room. I steeled myself and entered the room, the door closing behind me as if it had a will of its own, cutting off any lingering light from aiding my advance. I never did understand how one could create light through vivid magic; how can one picture light flooding a room currently unseen? Maybe it's an issue of perspective? Or scale? I'm getting off-topic.

In layman's terms, I can't see *excrement of an equine variety*. My first instinct was to light a torch, but something about the darkness felt... off. I don't know how to put it, but I felt almost as if someone far away was warning me of some clandestine consequences within the black. On the bright side, I'll be able to check the efficacy of transcription magic in absolute darkness by examining the state of the resulting writing while within the darkness.

I must be close now, close to wherever she went.