Existence is a truly esoteric thing; it is a liminal space born from an explosive transition from emptiness to entirety when all came into material reality, the miracle of matter that brought all we know to be real and worth living against or dying for. The mystery of creation is such that our mind cannot fully encompass it; and so we turn to thought and contemplation, the faculties of intelligent beings that try to understand what cannot be intuited. But no matter how much one contemplates nothingness or wholeness, the truth remains inaccessible and unknowable by humankind; as if it all was covered by design.
Consciousness represents the blind spot of material knowledge, to understand its purpose it would need to act as an object and subject of study, for consciousness is both phenomenon and observer at once. It is a strange state indeed, this self-aware awareness; it defies language and walks without trace through the very fabric of existence. This is why we have come to think that the universe has a mind; because only minds can appreciate its wonder, and sentient beings are always looking for meaning in their experience.
But is consciousness placed before or after the existence of matter? Is it something that comes from a higher plane of existence, and so must exist beyond matter's reach? Or is it a function of matter and therefore delimited by physical nuances? Perhaps there are more levels to this question beyond those seen by our five senses, perhaps the mind is ultimately limited to seeing the pieces move back and forth, but incapable to understand the rules and purpose behind the game.
- Preface of Existential Pride, by Lai Moonard
"That should make for a proper introduction!" I told myself, as I placed my pen on the table, and stared skeptically at the words I had just jotted down on the covering pages of my just short of empty book. It had been a lingering idea on the back of my mind for months now, that of immortalizing some of my ideas on a piece of paper, and last night I had just gotten a sudden motivation to do so, somewhat hypocritical of my side considering merely two years ago i would have considered it pretentious. After i was done waiting for the ink to dry out, i closed the cover with a sense of decidedness and finally stood up from that uncomfortable creaking wooden chair i borrowed from the hallway outside that had been pushing at my back so uncomfortably for nearly an hour now, I turned to the window to glance at the green landscape outside, letting my senses be enveloped by the softness emanating from every tree and grass of blade obstructing the pathway of the sunlight and wavering harmonically with the rustling of the wind in the warm hours of the early morning, with the lovely birds playing their nothing-short-of grating yet homely tune like a trained orchestra. The optimism of a day filled with activities rushed over me as i realized how close we were to our destination, so i decided to not waste a second longer, grabbed my trusty leather pouch my grandmother gave to me on my 14th birthday, slid some gold coins and a loaf of bread and headed out of the Inn to catch up to Nia who's resounding deep and smooth voice with i could hear clearly through the wooden planks on the floor below me.
Nia is my friend, travel companion and security escort, the all purpose tool, but not only does she make an excelent leader in times of crisis, a fantastic cook when all you have is the dangerously-looking aromatic ingredients of nature, and a nice shoulder to rest on when you're feeling homesick and far from your the comfort of your cozy chambers, she also compliments my every shortcoming, a perfect partner to have if you walk the life of a thief and adventurer, i am sure we will be together till death do us part!. She has been with me through thick and thin, even when we didn't know what this partnership would become one day; in fact our friendship wasn't exactly planned either. A noteworthy fact about her is that she has never had a taste for evocative interpretations of the world and artsy meanings behind life itself, and she is not as good at concealing that it as she might think she is, her values often incline to what is practical and what works, what makes one strong and rids of the weak, an amazing pragmatic strategist is how i would describe her in a short sentence, and mere games of words or fancy proverbs won't get you far with her. But when push comes to shove, she's no slouch!.
We are explorers you see, Nia and I, thieves, bandits, outlaws, borrowers of the unclaimed treasures of this world, we don't belong anywhere, and yet, we belong everywhere.
From seemingly opposite inclinations, we met 5 years ago when I was still a student of the arcane arts and she was a fierce warrior destined to become to become a Paladin, when a tragic incident in which i nearly lost my life some two weeks after my arrival at the Academy took place.
The details are unnecessary, but i was almost crushed by the head of a 15 meter tall old statue dating back to the founding of the Academy that suddenly collaped on the main square. Few were the unfortunate ones that stood below the rubble, dying instantly. Talk about an absurd end.
Aid arrived quickly and tended to the wounded, I was still sitting in shock with my eyes fixated on the gigantic bone-colored marble severed head lying in front of me. Nia took quick notice of me and as the rest of her crew picked up the debris and grotesque severed limbs yet lying on the the ground, she took me by the hand to a silent spot away from the chaos to offer some trauma counseling. It was only then that I understood how close i had come to the death, had i been walking a little faster, had i left my dorm five seconds sooner... it was a sobering realization... and after some forgettable small talk I posed her this question, "If the only thing you can be sure of is of your ever-nearing death, what is truly stopping us from avoiding the hauling awareness of that future and commiting suicide on the spot?".
Our personal answer to that question ended up being different from each other, differences which were originally root to many heated exchanges between us two, and I must admit I took the subject rather passionately, but it was the very same question that plagued me during the weeks following the incident, the idea of a living being, fledged and complex and ultimately doomed to die alone to eventually be forgotten to time was too dreadful, what is the meaning of this absurd cycle? and thus when i came across the rather singular Nia, her stoic outlook on life and her ability to look beyond the obvious of things resonated with me greatly, and after a few more meetings and conversations, even if we sometimes clash in opinions, we became fast friends.
We will soon depart, to get to Deraata before the sun sets, only a fool would walk the road in the dark of night and the forest is too dangerous to venture far from the main road, but the real purpose of our journey there lies us elsewhere, a few acres beyond the end of the road, where the sun rests dormant, the Hamlet of Daheidas, concealed from cartographers and exploreres alike, dwelling quietly deep inside the old rain forest, surrounded by a warped bubble, a discontinuation on the narrative of the world that holds
every single speck of matter inside it preserved and unafflicted from the relentless march of time, the place is thought to be deific ground, a rupture in the patchwork of natural existence made long ago by a powerful individual, who wished to hear the universe sing, a man who knew no bounds, legend has it he tore space from time, separated the shadow from the light, the beginning from the end and became the first being to ever reveal a major piece of the puzzle behind the mystery of all creation, he journeyed to the center of the maze and brought home a gift of understanding for us all, a new purpose, but the universe sang in a tune of veiled whispers and colorful symbols, for it wished to remain misunderstood and misinterpreted, sharing it's seraphic aspirations only to those nuanced souls it deems capable of understanding, and in return, they too can sing after their departure from this world, adding up to the unceasing verse that will be heard even after the end of the known cosmos; -or so goes the story that my dear friend Nia likes to throw around-.
Nia also mentioned that when you set foot outside the proximity of the hamlet, your memories of the place will wash away in an instant, they will be reduced to a hazy dream-like set of imagery that has been indelibly latched to your mind where all will feel distant, unfamiliar and eerie. The "Nearsighted mind" is what the few scholars who studied the strange phenomena decided to call it. Like a stagnant sphere where all is detached, where time cannot reach, where all that is possible and probable unfolds, where strength turns to weakness, prowess to impotence and wisdom to a muted tone of folly. It a place where everything is a mere mirage, a world of dreams where the imagination is king, and reality a prisoner.
We sent a group of capable thieves there two weeks ago, to retrieve an artifact of unknown functions but very valuable if you find the right buyer, Vanna, Clode, and Astias are their names. Experienced in dealings with the lonesome outerworld, they went alone without backup or escort; we knew this was risky, given that its common to get lost in the lands outside the wall, but we thought it best not to involve ourselves directly, for obvious reasons.
The village of Deerata is an interesting place, remarkably recognizable by it's thatches and well mantaind wooden houses, each decored by locally-grow blossoms and flowers of various colors and species, since they grow faster and higher here at the edge of the world, giving the place it's characteristic welcoming smell that could persuade anyone as a jolly invitation to wander aimlessly through the peaceful streets, or sitting next to the breezy river crossing through the heart of the village, flowing effortlessly day and night, the river of Raheros which played a significant role in its early development, but then again how much needs to be said about a single village? It has its share of amenities, and if you don't count the strange and curious people living there, then one may call it a perfectly ordinary village. It stands at the border of what many consider to be the limits of the mortal quota of land, beyond the ominous wall standing vigilant in the distant horizon lies the "Cursed territory, where mortals may not tread, reserved only for the gods above", the pits where the divine gift of reason fades lies beyond this village, and that is no mere allegory, as it has been a cautionary tale in numerous ocations, be it by design or by chance, that the unlucky few who have decided to tread freely beyond the wall, where acres upon acres of barren forest and dry soil covered with a mantle of foul deep dark sand that forms a daunting image of a place you could have very well taken from a nightmare washing away to the horizon awaits them, only to return shambling and hollow, devoid of reason, reduced to the simplicity of the mind of the beast, aggressive and mad, as if their souls had been raptured by an otherwordly energy during their venture beyond the wall, it has been a rare sight which folktales consider to represent remnants of a cosmical consciousness of ancient descend which fell to earth shattered and in pieces, attempting to bring itself back to life through the fragmented existence of man, forming a hive-minded creature separated into millions of bodies yet all fixating on the same thing all at once, the true nature of the situation however still remains a mystery, many historians, antrophologists and archivists have put together various different interpretations of these tales but there has been no sufficient cleverness, desire or agreement to make a feasible explanation common since due to their age they have been reduced to nothing more than mere myths used to scare kids thousands of years ago.
Lying on the edge of the world lies a wall, made of night-dark rock, dwarfing every nearing structure, stretching for various kilometers, menacing and awake at all times of the day; it is guarded by an elite force of warriors and archers who patrol its length, they are called the "Argive-eyed Men". Their purpose is to restrict the exit...or entrance of any curious unsuspecting individual who wishes to leave or enter the vast, cold, unknown steppe of the outer side of the wall, however, making your way past the guards didn't pose a real challenge, not even for the young unschooled young troublemakers coming from Deraata who ocasionally ventured on the outskirts of the wall, just to see the vastness, unexplicably horrifying sight of the lands beyond. Daheidas is located a mere couple of hours on foot from here on the outside zone, from a certain clocktower in Deraata, you can see the highest point of the masonry spire of the ancient cathedral rising high above the abandoned hamelt, its intricate stonework and ornate symbol on the peak visible for miles around, only covered from shaft below by the already century-grown fauna sorrounding the place.
We were expecting news from our employed cat burglars in Deraata today. Nia decided to conceal the nature of the objects from them, to prevent any attempt at subcontracting, she said.
It's important for those unfamiliar with the ways of the world, that an imperative rule in any venture of dubious intent is to always have someone else take over the responsibility for your failure to stand up to the deal. This is true of every possible kind of agreement; from barter, through gift, to contract. It requires some discretion as well, one must find someone who will be willing to accept full responsibility for whatever happens if you don't deliver something. In other words, it's very hard to do these things alone.
Upon our arrival at Deraata, we went straight to the rendevous point where that was prepared to meet Vanna, Clode and their companion, we carried a large bundle between us, which we hid under our cloaks, Nia stood near the entrance, leaning on a wall, inspecting every movement made by everyone inside the tavern, and to protect me in case an unsound attempt at double-crossing occurs. I sat alone on a table, tucked away in a cozy nook, glancing attentively back and forth, to the window and to Nia, anticipating the moment three tall, well dressed figures would walk in line through the narrow front door, so i could give her the signal. No one showed up until half an hour later, a man, of warrior-like build, dressed in dark garments, everything about him spoke of being a rogue, he looked aged, even through the cloak concealing his face with long hair, tied in a ponytail, wielding a regal looking sword on his belt, he must be feeling confident in his proficiency with the blade if he's showcasing such a fine item. He slowly made his way into the tavern, pushing the drunkards with his shoulders as he walked showing minimal effort, his legs moved with the stiffness of a soldier marching with every step he took, every gesture, was deliberate and precise, he seemed like a seasoned warrior, not afraid to make enemies out of the people around him.
He sat at the opposing side of my table, without saying a word, a few seconds went by.
"Umm" I muttered, afraid to disrupt his thoughts, waiting for him to introduce himself and break the cold silence that filled the room, I didn't get what I expected.
He looked at me, his eyes were brown and emotionless, yet piercing with the sharpness of a dagger and his voice was deep and raspy, emmanating a tone of imperative commandment.
"Are you Lai?" he Inquired with a tone that demanded a quick response.
I nodded, trying hard to maintain some kind of composure.
"Are you here in behest of the lucky ace?" I inquired back, lucky ace was the code name we would use at the transaction site in order to protect the integrity of the deal, in the case we would require an intermediary to complete it for us.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Yes," he confirmed.
I acted promptly as he did not look like the kind of person to enjoy some idle talk at a negotiation table and made the signal to Nia that the transaction was to be completed, but the man raised his hand urging me to stop with a detached gesture on his face as he took a black piece of cloth hiding something underneath from inside his garments, and gave it to me.
"Don't react" he said to me before letting go of the wet piece. I waited for Nia to sit next to me before uncovering the object. I lifted the layers of cloth unable to control the shaky feeling hand and spine, in hesitation of what the old man had just warned me about.
"Is this a joke?! Some sort of macabre symbolism meant to scare us?!, are you here to make the deal yes or not?!" Nia shouted alerting everyone around us of our presence, with a tone disbelief of the ingenuity of the old man, leaning closer to him.
The object was a severed hand, covered in blood and attached by only its nail to a black leather strip, two fingers missing, thumb and ring finger, and not freshly cut from it's owner judging by the minimal bleeding and lack of rigor mortis.
Still in dismay by the unsavory surprise and taking it for some kind of threat i instinctively reached for my blade before the realization hit me.
"Nia, wait!" I yelled over the din she was making, leaning my head to take a closer look in and signaling at the fingers on the hand that laid flat on the table, leaving a wet bloody and bloody mess that was oozing from drenched piece of cloth below it, in an attempt to make her observe again, this time more precisely.
"Do you see?".
She stared, longer this time, letting her thoughts sink in.
"That finger..." she murmured in a somber tone, confirming my previous line of thought.
It was Vannas hand, endorsed by the marks at the tips of the middle and index finger characteristic of an archer. She took the hand from me, and started to examine the blood stains on it, and the faint red color on the skin beneath;
"You'll have to excuse me for breaking it down to ya in such gruesome fashion, but i know you wouldn't have believed me otherwise, and i'm sorry i didn't give you a heads-up, but considering you recognized it now i'm sure you are who you say" the old man stated firmly.
I nodded, unable to find words to express how i felt in such a short period of time.
"We are willing to pay half the agreed price, but we need to know just what the hell happened" I asked, hoping to get some answers as quickly as possible.
"I will tell you my side of the story" he replied in a calm manner, "Follow me".
He stood from his chair and urged us to follow him through the exit to a dark alley, barely lit, two blocks away from the tavern, where two horses where tied to a medium sized wagon, covered in wool blanket, there was a foul smell emanating from it, and it didn't take a much wit to guess what was lying underneath it.
"You're going to tell us everything you know about this incident in the next few minutes" I told him with a serious gaze.
"Well...i am not one for small talk either..." he began, "the night of that incident i received Lord Vanna at my doorstep very late at night, which is quite unusual, she was accompained by two other individuals of which i knew not much about, i let the three of them inside and offered them some drinks, we made some talk until they finally declared the intent of their visit, they wanted passage into the old Hamlet for a lucrative job, they said, and offered me a portion of the payment in case i accepted. At first, i rejected, as it was not my usual practice, anything beyond the wall is usually not worth the coin, however, the man in front, he called himself Corin, very eloquent fellow indeed..." He took another deep breath, and continued. "Corin claimed to be a representative of the Order of the Broken Eye, and all the asked of me was to show them way into the faint and dilapidated path that leads to the entrance of the ruins".
The old man seemed uneasy, but he continued nonetheless. "The next night we made our way beyond the wall, i showed them where the path was located and left them there with instructions to come back once they had reached the place. The following morning, the small lass acompanying them, Astias, returned with a single body in tow, wrapped in cloths, and she told me that they had lost Vanna in a fight with Corin, and that he had got lost somewhere in the woods"
"That's all you know?" Nia asked him suspiciously.
"I left the girl back at my place, she seemed traumatized enough and didn't say much, but you can try questioning her if you want, i'm positive you'll get more information than what i already gave you" he stated firmly.
"Why would someone go out of their way to kill their trusted partner in crime?" I inquired, attempting to discern the truth of events that took place back there.
He simply shrugged his arms, avoiding my question, it seemed simple enough for the three of us to deduce that Corin betrayed them and made away with the loot in hand.
However, it was still hard to imagine how a trained assassin such as Vanna would fall off the perch so easily, a knife to the heart? really?, it seemed to me like something out of an amateur story meant to rid of the side character without much effort to move the plot forward, i left the thought running quietly at the back of my head as made our way to the old man's place to interogate Astias.
"If you have reason to suspect that a person is telling you a lie, look as though you believed every word he said. This will give him courage to go on; he will become more vehement in his assertions, and in the end betray himself." those were the words of Arthidon Schopensour, a great thinker who lived about two centuries ago, and they resounded in my mind as we made way to the place, i had to play a sucker to catch a sucker, this i knew, and if Astias was hiding anything from us i was determined to squeeze it out of her, moral actions rarely got in my way, unlike Nia who would be more cautious when dealing with the subject of torture and interrogation.
The old man's place stood somewhere in the higher part of Deraata, he had acquired his dwelling through an inheritance, apparently. We were greeted by a small house with a modest courtyard in which a few old tools hung on a line, except for the hand carved entry at the entrance that read MOMENTO MORI, it looked like any other house in the town, i but it was the last time i would see any semblance of normality here.
"The name's Hassan by the way" he added as he struggled to place the keys on the door.
Nia placed her belongings politely on the floor near the entrance as she entered the room, i followed close behind, trying to remain unnoticed.
"Astia! I've arrived, some acquaintances of Vanna and Corin are here, they want to ask you a few questions!" Hassan exclaimed, the girl was probably hiding somewhere in the rooms on the second floor.
No one answered, and a moment later Hassan called for her again, this time making his way up the stairs to go look for her, we followed behind.
At last we came across the young woman lying flat on the bed, she had fallen asleep it seems and her breathing was heavy, it seemed that she hadn't slept well, her eyes were bloodshot and bags, but more remarkable, were the cryptic scribbles decorating the wall around her, filling up the white walls, overlapping one another, but a recurring symbol could was found in them as if a madman had written them with ink and his own hands.
"What do they mean?"
I grabbed a notebook from my pouch, something with ink and began sketching the symbol on the wall. Disturbing confusion filled the room, no one knew what it was or why it was there, a strange and disturbing sight i could not help but feel uneasy with. On the outside, it looked like nothing more than gibberish, but looking through the lines, we all knew this had some relationship with what had happened back at the hamlet.
Hassan took a few steps forward towards the young woman, "Wake up! Wake Up!" he shouted as he shook her shoulder vigorously, however his efforts went fruitless.
It was then that I decided to step in and tried to shake her as well. My actions also proved useless, the young woman was clearly in deep slumber, it seemed she was dreaming of a something...
Even if she woke up however, the Nearsighted mind must have taken a hold of her memories by now, she would not be able to explain how the events took place.
As the sun began sinking beneath the skyline, we decided to help Hassan clean the markings on the wall, he offered us to stay the night at his place if we wished, and for two lingering hours, not a single word was spoken of what had just happened.
At first, i didn't want to accept it, but the reality looked ever more clear....if we wished to know what happened to Vanna and Asttia, and what those symbols meant, we had no other option but to make our way to Daheidas ourselves. By now, consequentialy, the idea seemed too absurd, so i decided to let Nia reach my same conclusion before disclosing the plan of action to her.
The sky was dark now and we rested at Hassan's place, meanwhile, in a mannerly and welcome show of hospitality as is customary practice in Deraata, he prepared stew for us to eat over a fire he lit on the yard.
We talked a bit about the past and home, with a bit of hope that we would get over with this soon, she didn't elaborate much further, and neither did I. The silence was awkward at best.
After an hour or so of talking about rambling about our old occurences, telling stories and laughing with the company of a good drink in hand, in an attempt to forget the distract ourselves disastrous turn of events that had occured, the conversation started to predictably circle back and forth into the academia and Stonelock related affairs, as the humoristic affliction of alcohol faded, we dwelled on the topic of the Nearsighted Mind effect for a while, and Nia asked interesting questions about the methods and practices used to control and treat it that i learned back at the Academia.
The Academia of Prylock, located in city of Prylock the industrialized west, is the place where the magic, quite literally, happens, it is in the heart of one of the biggest civilizations standing in the world and the populate consists mainly of Scholars, Arcane practicioners, Historians, and all related to similar Intelectual endeavors, many cures, solutions, inventions and theories are brought from the obscure mind of the many outstanding individuals to the surface here, intended to be of use to the world as a greater whole. The Nearsighted mind effect however, was a controversial topic, not openely discussed by many, as it involved substantial parts of what makes up the theological basis of popular religions and widespread beliefs around the world, for a long time spreading thousands of years, any sort of experimentation or study of the phenomena was forbidden and severely punished against those who wished not to obey with the limitations of their curiosity. This didn't particularly interfere with the industrious-minded and observant intelectuals of that time, of course, who saw in it more than just a mere ill-psychotic state of the mind that could be dragged down with artificial infusion or crafty brew, they saw a trace or revelation that a hidden play might be happening behind the curtains of reality.
The name was a recent acquisition, but the phenomena had it's first appereance almost 10 millenia ago, be it through folk songs, poems, myths, legends or memoirs originating from the civilizations that existed before the wall, whoses remnants and traditions we have deliberately choose to forget, locking them away behind a protective wall, we inhabitants of the present era, as to avoid commiting the same mistakes that led them down to their seemingly abrupt end. These civilizations allured the nearsigthed mind to be the volition of Qorudos, meaning god, or Zarabin, meaning the one who oversees in a different tongue, ancient myths of seemingly distant geographical root that ilustrate a very similar image, originating almost simultaneously in multiple locations in this world, of a god above creation, that from the midsts or the stars descended unto the mortal world on a time before life ever saw the shine of light, to lay dormant in it's somnolent silence for eons to come. It is unknown whether these civilizations shared a common history or not, but all of them share a very interesting trait: each and every civilization that has been studied, has shown signs of a Nearsighted Mind effect that took over the minds of its people to create mass psychotic outbreaks that plunged even the most important and powerful cities into the edge of calamities of apocalyptic grade, leading up to the eventual cures and treatments fashioned to rid themselves of the unmerited curse that pestered their lands.
In any case, we concluded the conversation with the series of methods and little-known practices to protect yourself from the almost dream inducing effect produced by it, sharing with them even some of the more unethical and unorthodox experiments done in the name of knowledge, like the mirror exposure experiment, that demonstrated a very high alertness in those afflicted with the nearsight mind when subjected to a room full of mirrors, it drove some so mad that they ended up commiting suicide, the notes and manuscripts explaining the detailed results of the experimentation however remain classified under a restricted vault in the immense library of the city of Prylock.
Leaving historical matters aside, the intriguing question remained in the back of my head, is Nia really planning to go to Daheidas? What will be the logically-santified reason with which she will excuse her engrossing inner desire to venture beyond the wall into the unknown? There were no logical explanations, and the answers came much faster than expected.
Hassan would not be persuaded to return outside the wall. But he offered to pinpoint the exact location of where he last left our departed friends if we carried a map with us. And so he did
We hastily gathered our belongings and headed towards the center of town. The streets were empty now, but they would be crowded later. We walked for a while, arriving at the location of the map, and there we waited until it was time to head north.
We stopped by a nearing fountain, that laid lonely and cold near the exit of the village, in this desert of stone and wood, we sat on the benches located next the sparkling clear water that reflected the beautiful bone-toned light of the moon above and silently admired the stellar panorama above for a little while.
As we gazed up at the night sky, I couldn't help but think of the fascinating and interesting stories I had read. I turned to my companion and said, "You know, back then, people really used to believe the sky was a cosmic ocean in which the sun and moon ware ferried across every day, an ocean that grew continuously and would one day explode like a bubble unleashing a neverending rain that would drown the world covering even the highest peak of the highest mountain." It was just idle commentary, a passing thought that added to the atmosphere of the moment. The stars twinkled above us, and the cool night air wrapped around us like a cozy blanket. It was a peaceful scene, and the I was content to simply enjoy it.
Nia looked at me, smiled and said "I'm glad you're enjoying this, but let's get moving"
Three locations were marked on our map, the first one was the tunnel at which's entrance we now stood, the second being the start of the path to Daheidas, and the third a place which could only bee seen inside daheidas which was supposedly called 'Garden of Dreams'.
As we entered the tunnel, darkness consumed our senses. I had never been in a cave before, let alone a cave this old. Nia lit the candle light found near the entrance to illuminate the path ahead, but most of the ilumination came from the beams of moonlight sneaking through the woodcracks on the old planks that covered the ceiling. We walked for a while before I felt the presence of other beings in the distance, I couldn't tell how far away they were as it felt like the tunnel kept stretching endlessly before us.
The sounds of nature surrounded us, crickets chirped in the distance, meaning we were now past the wall and there was a gentle breeze blowing through the cracks that allowed the cool winter wind to flow through the tunnels mouth, bringing with it a refreshing aroma of grass and flowers, the smell of spring.
The silence was deafening and I was growing desperate for her to speak, "Nia, we should try talking to each other, maybe it'll-"
She interrupted my words and interrupted them harshly.
"Silence! The walls are not made of stone!" she exclaimed angrily. "If you must talk, keep it quiet!"
"😿"
And so, we walked quietly for a short while longer, until we finally reached another hatch. Stepping on the other side, it looked like we were inside an old empty cabin standing lonely in the middle of nowhere, broken and full of holes, there was a door a few meters from us, shattered in pieces and almost completly eaten by the pass of time, but a portion of it still standing firmly on the rusted doorstop mounted on the wall and it was making a creaky sound that irritated the ears but added yet another distracting element to the unpleasant surroundings.
As soon as we walked outside, we felt the cold breeze blow past us, we were already out of the tunnel where there was no sign or any trace of life whatsoever, the silence and strange feeling of loneliness engulfed me, it was a daunting sensation, almost as if I were standing at the end of everything.
"Last chance to turn back" Nia whispered, and I knew that she meant what she said as a joke, but it still sent a shiver down my spine.
She took the lead again and began walking confidently forward to the north into the eerie deserted forest ahead and none of us made any sort of commentary about the evident ill nature that emanated from it. I was hesitant at first, but eventually I followed her lead, and once I caught up to her my mind wandered around the unnerving thought that... perhaps some truths are best left unspoken.