- Chapter 4 -

“We need to move. But carefully now, we’re not out of the woods yet.” Gareth warns.

My grip tightens around the staff as fatigue seeps into my legs.

“I barely have enough Spirit for one more spell. If there’s something... ” I stare at the corpses. “Worse than a handful of goblins, we have to run away.”

Elara nods. She holds up her torch and we press forward. Gareth; his weathered face, grim but resolute, leads the way. The torch casts dancing shadows on the cavern walls. Elara rest’s one hand on her sword, her breathing is shallow but steady.

The tunnel opens into a larger cavern, the scale of which easily dwarfs any previous chamber. The air here is heavier, thick with the stench of decay and something else. Before us stretches a vast vault, its floor littered with the skeletal remains of creatures both large and small. In the distance, we spot a glimmer of light, a possible exit, but the path is treacherous. Jagged rocks jut from the ground, and the air hums with an unsettling silence broken only by the drip of water echoing through the cavern.

As we advance, Gareth stops abruptly, his hand raised in warning. He points to a series of intricate carvings on the cavern wall, barely visible in the flickering torchlight. They depict grotesque, monstrous figures engaging in some kind of ritualistic sacrifice. The carvings are ancient, weathered by time and water, yet undeniably sinister.

There are sigils carved below as well, not unlike the ones used by certain sects. Gareth pulls a piece of cloth from his bag, drawing it down with a chip of charcoal.

Suddenly, a low growl rumbles through the cavern, our attention diverted to it’s source. From the shadows by the exit, monstrous shapes begin to emerge. These are different from the brutish creature we’d encountered before. They are larger, their movements fluid, more intelligent, and their identities hidden by the dark. I can only make out their silhouettes against the bright rays of the exit.

"Gareth..." I say softly, fear rooting me in place.

Whether we fight or flee, my courage won't reach my feet until I hear him make the call. I look over to Elara who looks as terrified as I am, but her training keeps her hands steady on her sword and her knees poised, ready to strike or bolt.

Gareth eyes towards us, his gaze sweeping over Elara and I. The flickering torch catches the grim set of his jaw. He doesn't speak, but his eyes, experienced and unwavering, convey a silent assessment of the situation.

Subtly shifting his weight, his hand stretches back slowly as to avoid triggering a reaction, pointing to a half crumbled crevasse we had just passed. I start chanting; the fastest I ever have, as a subtle thrumming sensation vibrates through my satchel. Power surges through me, weaker but still palpable as the monstrous shapes in the distance continue their careful, deliberate advance, their guttural hums echoing ominously through the cavern.

“RUN!” The word escapes my lips, sharp and urgent, cutting through the suffocating tension. Before the monstrous creatures can react to my scream, a desperate zap of Spirit jolts through my body, and erupts from my staff as a Fireball, hurling at the roof of the cavern above.

The spell, far more powerful than any I had conjured before, slams into the cavern ceiling above the advancing horde. The impact is deafening; a shower of rocks and dust rains down, momentarily obscuring the creatures in a chaotic cloud. I catch glimpses of panicked movements in the dust cloud, roars of fury and pain barely audible above the thunderous cascade of debris. We make a break for the fissure, a path of escape, albeit a narrow and precarious one.

The air is thick with dust and the smell of charred stone. Elara, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and astonishment at the sheer power of my spell, follows Gareth, her movements surprisingly swift and decisive. The ground trembles, not just from my spell's impact, but from the angered bellows of the creatures, now partly buried, partly enraged, struggling to clear themselves from the fallen rubble.

The rough, uneven walls scrape against my skin as I scramble forward, the darkness pressing in from all sides. The narrow passage barely allows me to squeeze through, our movements hampered by the confined space. I can hear Gareth and Elara ahead, their desperate scrapes echoing faintly in the claustrophobic tunnel.

I glance back, a brief, desperate look revealing a monstrous appendage still struggling to reach us in the passage's narrow opening. The sounds of the creatures’ frustrated roars and the grinding of stone behind me start fading, replaced by the rhythmic thud of my own heart. But the relief is short-lived. The distance between my companions and I are growing, the sounds of their progress echoing further and further ahead.

“Wait for me! ELARA! I’m still here!”

My shout for Elara is lost in the constricted space, swallowed by the damp air and the relentless pounding of my own heartbeat. Panic claws at the edges of my mind, the darkness seems to press closer, and the air grows thinner. My screams stop echoing, my lungs burning with each intake as the fissure twists and turns.

“Don’t leave me!”

Tears stream down my face, mingling with the sweat and grime that coat my skin. The thought of being alone, truly alone, after all I've endured, is a crushing weight. It overwhelms me, slowly extinguishing the flickering ember of hope that has sustained me this far. The passage seems to stretch endlessly with every turn, a torturous labyrinth with no discernible end. I cant see, nor hear them. They’re gone.

A pale speck of light, appears ahead, almost imperceptible at first. I push my body forward, revealing a small cavern. As I stumble in, the source of the light becomes clear. A small opening, high in the cavern wall, allows a sliver of sunlight to penetrate the gloom. Elara, her face streaked with dirt and tears, is tending to Gareth, who lies slumped against the cavern wall, unconscious but breathing. Relief washes over me, so profound it almost knocks me to my knees. My body trembles as Elara looks up, her eyes widening in relief as she sees me emerge from the gloom. Gareth groans softly, his eyelids fluttering.

I sit next to the hole I emerged from with my staff resting on my lap. I wipe the tears from my face and look towards Elara. My lips quiver trying to form words. I’ve never depleted my Spirit to this degree before. Master warned of it's dangers so I had always been very frugal with my Spirit, as any mage would.

“What do we do? Gareth is unconscious. I think he’s lost too much blood.” Elara asks.

“I don’t... I don’t know.”

“This place seems safe enough for now.” She looks... disappointed?

I look around and there are no signs of life apart from us. It’s safe, but we need more than just safety.

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“You’re right, but we need water.”

Elara sits quiet, staring at Gareth, it doesn’t seem likely for her to volunteer.

“I think I hear drips of water. Stay here while I take a look.”

She remains quiet.

I brace against my staff and push to my feet, mustering up a Light spell, but the glow barely lights up my face.

“I’m sorry.” she says, still not looking at me.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I slowly stumble through the near darkness, heading towards the sound of water. It eventually leads me to an opening on the side so I crawl to the edge of the entryway. Sat and listening for any movement, my patience is the only weapon I have left. The rhythmic flow of water almost lulls me to sleep before I’m awakened by a distinct flutter of feathers.

I instinctually snuff out my Light. Weighing my options, though it really comes down to just two choices; do I enter or not, I also have the option of returning to the two, but then we’d be back to square one. We also don’t really know how much longer we’ll be safe back there.

A warm light suddenly lights up the wall in front of me. A jolt shoots through my body, and I almost let out a scream in terror, but a voice calms me with a pat on the shoulder.

“It’s just us.” Gareth whispers.

I look at him, my face about to burst into tears. Elara sits behind him holding out the torch.

“What do you think is inside there?” he continues.

“I don’t know but there’s definitely something inside. I don’t know if we can fight but we need that water.”

“We’ll go in.” His face growing serious.

A quiet swish of metal hisses through the air as he draws his sword and slowly enters the room. We follow him inside cautiously.

The room is fairly spacious. A stream of water spills out from the wall on the left, splashing haphazardly on the stone beneath before flowing into a groove on the floor. A stack of boxes; most of which are broken open, stand on the other side of the room. We stand at the entrance, scanning the shadows for any movement. A figure pops out announced by the sound of flapping, feathered wings.

“What is that? Do we fight it?” Gareth asks hesitantly.

I stare at the creature, it’s small, barely a foot in height. It vaguely resembles a griffon fledgling, but the colour of it’s feathers reflect the light off our torch, shimmering with an iridescent light. I’ve seen this kind before. My hand rests on my satchel where I know a mysterious feather lies. But the part that captivates me the most are it’s eyes. It’s the exact same as the ones I saw that night.

“Lyric?” I blurt out.

“Hmm? I’ve never heard of such a creature.” Gareth replies.

“Oh, no-Yes. I mean, no that’s not a type of creature.” I stumble my words. It’s impossible to explain in the moment.

The small bird like creature seems frightened, shivering in hostility.

“Wait, let me try and... uh... talk?.. With it.” Gareth look back at me confused.

“Well alright. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything else in here. Elara, lets fill our water-skins while she does that.” He sheaths his sword and makes way for me to approach.

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“You won’t have time to live life if you try to understand everything a magic users does.” He replies. She relents, lowering her sword to follow him.

I approach the creature. It leans away from me, much like the cats back in my village would. It’s front legs lower to pull it’s head away from me, with it’s talons cutting lines into the dirt below. It’s wings spreading out to the side, as if trying to make itself look bigger. I fear if I push too hard, it might try to fly away.

Reaching into my satchel, I rummage through it’s pockets till my hand pulls out a feather, iridescent much like it’s own, but much larger than any on it’s tiny body. Along with it comes out the small wooden toy of a bird, it’s head carved like it’s wearing a crown. Which upon further inspection isn’t very different from the creature’s own form, with it’s feathers faintly jutting out around it’s head.

The Feather vibrates softly as I hold it out towards the creature. It pecks at it before resting it’s beak on it, closing it’s eyes as if in a deep but voiceless conversation.

“Hello.” I speak to it.

It coos softly, it’s eyes still closed.

“Are you tired?”

It’s head falls into the palm of my hands. I catch and lift it’s body into my arms, it’s chest rising and falling slowly as falls asleep.

“She’s cute.” Elara peers over my shoulder.

“It’s heavier than it looks.” I smile back. She lets out a short giggle as she walks towards the boxes.

“I’ll take a look and see if there’s anything we can use here. Why don’t you relax and drink some water.” She says, but seems to avoid looking directly at me.

“Sure. Let me know if you need help.” She doesn’t respond.

I walk towards the spring. Gareth tosses a now refilled water-skin at me which I barely manage to catch, hoping to not wake my passenger.

“Thank god it’s not hostile. In our condition, we might not have been able to beat it.” He chuckles. They’ve lit up another torch and planted it near the spring.

I sit by the flowing water, looking down to see a small spot of blood on it’s wings. Moving it’s pinions, I find a small wound. The blood has dried but it’s wing spasms as I touch around it.

“Looks like it’s hurt. I guess that’s why it didn’t make a break for it immediately.”

Gareth scoots over towards me.

“That doesn’t look too bad. Hand ‘em over here. I’ll put some herb paste on it and you can heal it once you’ve recovered some magic.”

I hand it over to Gareth and he cradles it gently in one hand, reaching over to his satchel with the other for the medicine. I look back over to see Elara’s shadow moving on the wall, her figure hidden by the boxes. I’ve got an idea.

I run over to her and assess the integrity of the wooden planks. One by one, we move the empty crates towards the exit. Stacking them into a barricade and haphazardly wedging some of the broken ones into the sides to lodge them inside the tunnel.

“That should do the trick.” I exclaim. “It might not keep them out, but at least we’ll know if something tries to get in.”

“M-hmm” Elara happily agrees.

The “door” we’d made is not much to look at, but the feeling of security from being in a closed room is tremendous.

Her eyes turn towards Gareth, lowering her face down to a worried frown. He’s fallen asleep with the small creature bandaged in his arm. The fresh blood from his numerous wounds glisten in the light of the newly lit torches. The torch in her hand finally dies.

“Tend to his wounds for now. I’ll heal him once I’ve recovered some Spirit.” I say, trying to console her.

“Yes I should.”

She kneels down beside him and assesses the medical provisions laid out in front. In the meanwhile, I take a look at the items we’ve gathered from the site. A bunch of vegetables; some completely charred the rest edible, along with some... meat? These were salvaged from a burnt-out fireplace. There are also ropes, planks of leftover wood, and two pots with a handful of broken, crude tools and weapons.

Judging by their smaller sizes, it must have been a goblin’s camp. Probably the ones that were wiped out near the fissure. The meat appears too questionable to use so I toss it into the furthest corner of the room. Luckily, in addition to these, we also have some some dried rations we'd packed as well. I wash the pots in the stream, and collect some planks and stones into a fireplace, casting a minor Fire to ignite it.

The day has been difficult, but the night promises rest.