The sound of water dripping echoed endlessly, and the sounds made my ears hurt.

Droplets fell every few seconds, falling from one of the many stalactites hanging above me. Most landed in the river we floated along, and those didn’t bother me much… but every so often…

Another fell nearby. Missing the river, and landing on the wet sleek rock which lined the river on both sides. The resulting sound was much higher in pitch than the droplets hitting the river.

I closed my eyes and took a small breath. The sound wasn’t that loud, even to my ears, but it was grating. Thanks to the cavern, and how large it was, the sounds echoed several times before disappearing. And each time they echoed, the pulsing pinprick of pain ran down my spine.

It was times like these that I wished for human hearing.

Occasionally the water droplets hit the raft too.

Dwab’s raft was made entirely of wood. And rather… Worn down.

But it was big enough for the bear. And yet also small enough to pass through this cave.

A patch in the ceiling became shiny as we drifted past it. Hundreds of small gems reflected the lamplight.

Odds were Dwab, and the other humans who utilize this river, couldn’t see them.

They’d not still be there if they could, after all.

While staring at the glistening gems, another handful of droplets fell to the river, but then three more fell to the nearby stone in quick succession. The jumble of pain-filled echoes made me wince.

Luckily there were a few more sounds than just those.

The snoring of the Caravan Bear. The sound of water being pushed every so often, as the boatwoman pulled or pushed the oar.

Ruffling of clothes, the sound of breathing… Every so often there were creatures, or fish, that made sounds as well. Not too long ago a large insect had scuttled along some rocks, startled by our floating by. Those sounds were precious to me.

They blotted out the pain inducing sounds of the water droplets hitting stone. But only momentarily.

Only momentarily.

Unluckily, a newer sound had entered the chorus of pain.

One that originally I had been thankful for, since it helped drown out the painful sounds… but now…

“A rock…” she once again whispered.

At first she had tried to whisper quietly enough that I couldn’t hear her, but now it was obvious. Even if I had been human, I’d have heard her so-called whispering.

She was nearly speaking it aloud, in a normal voice.

“Rock…” she said again, and pulled the oar towards her. It pushed the large raft farther along the river… inching ever so slowly towards our goal.

We were almost through the cavern. I knew once we rounded the next bend, we’d start to see the light of the exit. No longer would we rely on the dim oil torches hanging by hand-woven rope off the raft’s cover.

The large raft wasn’t going fast, since it was so big. There was no real current to this river, and she wouldn’t let me handle the oar. Maybe she thought I’d break it. Her mother hadn’t let me handle the oar either, though.

But this was the only raft that the Caravan Bear would have fit upon. And she was the only one I could… or had trusted, to hire for this.

It seems even I make mistakes.

“Just a rock,” she whispered, and I heard her teeth scrape as she grinded them.

I stood on the opposite side of the raft than she. The bear sat between us, half covered by the shoddy roof that rested an arm’s reach above my head. I knew she could see me over the bear’s shoulder, thanks to how it was lying down… but it was a distance that a human thought safe. A distance that no human comfortably talked at, even inside this cave where sounds carried and echoed for great distances.

Echoes in here went nearly half the length of the tunnel. An insane distance, considering the source of the sounds.

How I longed to cross that distance in the blink of an eye. To escape this accursed tunnel, before my ears bled… before Dwab broke.

Glancing to her, I shifted at the sight of her eyes. They were watery, and the flickering lanterns illuminated the tear-streaks on her face.

Looking away from her, I silently watched as the edge of the bend came near. Even though lost in thought, and not in a good way, Dwab still flawlessly guided the raft.

On instinct and muscle memory alone, she guided us around the bend. Moving the large raft with as much ease as I would feel walking through the Rift Wall.

She had been born on this river. Raised on this river. Had given birth herself on this river.

I hadn’t ever met her children, but I knew their names. All five of them.

Nearly as many brothers and sisters as Dwab had lost over the years.

It was very human. To reproduce in such numbers. To lose a whole family, only to gain another… almost as large, if not larger, from a single bloodline.

Maybe that was why there were so many more humans than powers. Or was it something different? Was it because we lived longer? Or was it more than that. Culture, maybe?

“Just a rock…” she said, nearly at full volume.

I didn’t look at her, but I kept an ear on her. She kept her hands firmly gripped on the oar as she guided the raft. I heard her calloused hands make sounds as she squeezed tightly, turning the oar to and fro.

Her mother had hands like that.

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It was somewhat sad that she had worked so very hard, only for her only surviving daughter to continue working the same raft she had.

“Just a rock,” Dwab whispered sharply, as if speaking to someone.

Maybe she was. Whose voice did she hear? Her husband? One of her children?

Her mother…?

I had wrapped the magical stone a bit heavier before employing her, just in case. It blocked out far more of the light… but once we had entered the caverns, and this tunnel deep in the mountain, the cobwebs of light started to peek through.

Even now a long tendril danced in the air near me, flowing around me as if I was a rock blocking a small stream. As if I was a part of the very river we rode upon.

The strands of magic didn’t illuminate much more than the lanterns. But it had been enough. They were bright enough to be obvious. Even to the eyes of a human.

A single strand of magic light had been enough.

I closed my eyes as another drop of water sent a ping of pain into my head.

I’ve been through this tunnel many times. Yet I couldn’t remember the sounds being this painful. Maybe it was a seasonal thing, or maybe this tunnel was just getting… wetter.

Or maybe this was my punishment. My price to pay. For doing this.

“Rock…” she said, and I heard her teeth chatter for a second. As if cold.

With her word, the Caravan Bear snorted in its sleep. Luckily it didn’t shift, and cause the raft to wobble. Such a lazy creature was useful sometimes.

Dwab sniffed, and the sound echoed several times more than any others recently.

Glancing her way, to make sure she stayed put… I grimaced at the weapon dangling near her. Hanging near one of the oil lanterns, was a small sword. One that undoubtedly saw more use cutting wood and leather than flesh.

Although I had seen it while boarding, I thought nothing of it. Why would I? This was Dwab. I not only have known her most her life, I had known her mother.

So what if she had a weapon? It meant nothing to me.

But I knew why it mattered now. I knew why my eyes were drawn to it so readily, so quickly. Whereas before, I’d not have seen it amongst the dozens of dangling tools and items… Before I wouldn’t have picked it out, so readily.

Yet now I noticed it. Now it shone in my eyes, as bright as the sun.

Instinct was a damnable thing.

“It has to be a rock… Just a rock… Just…” Dwab mumbled continuously, not even noticing my stare.

Looking away, I noticed the bright white exit off in the distance. Far enough to not be close, but close enough I knew I’d soon start to smell the fresh air. Soon I’d start to hear the whisper of the wind, and the echoes of rustling leaves.

Maybe the fresh air, and sunlight, will be enough to snap Dwab out of it.

Rift willing.

For what felt like a very long time, I watched as the exit slowly drew closer. Soon the wind picked up, and the last drop of water fell upon my ears. No longer did the sound hurt, thanks to the world becoming loud.

The smell of trees and the forest became pungent. The sounds of birds started to grow louder, and I knew soon we’d be exiting the tunnel and docking. A few hundred yards beyond the mouth of the tunnel, right before the river became smaller, was a small wooden dock. One that would undoubtedly be overgrown with weeds and bushes.

The small makeshift dock, that only Dwab ever used, wasn’t big enough for the Caravan Bear, but the lazy thing could swim. So I’d have to wake it and gently coax it off the raft. Gently, as to not capsize Dwab’s precious family heirloom…

I heard a heavy gulp, and recognized the conviction that was swallowed along with the dry mouth.

Turning a little, I found Dwab staring at me. For the first time in hours, her eyes had left the rock.

Upon nearing the exit, the world had gotten brighter. The sun was high overhead and its rays of light were gleaming off the river and wet stone. The shimmering reflections gave the tunnel an odd glare.

A glare strong enough to dissipate all of the magical threads from sight.

“Just a rock,” I said to Dwab.

Although her eyes twitched, she didn’t flinch at my words. Didn’t even hesitate.

Her eyes held my own, but I knew she wasn’t seeing me. She saw the stone still. The cobwebs of magic were no longer visible, yet she still saw them in her mind.

This was my fault. I should have known. Whatever happens will be my fault. And there was…

Reaching into a pocket, I grabbed a handful more of coins than I had planned on giving her. Far, far more, than she deserved. Countless times more than the price of a simple ferry.

How I prayed it was going to be enough.

The sound of the coins clinking in my hand made her shift on her heels. She was finally looking at me, really looking at me.

Walking slowly around the sleeping bear, I kept my eyes on hers. Doing my best to walk slowly, softly. I did my best to not let my worry show, to stay calm.

I did my best to look as human as possible.

Dwab straightened on my approach, releasing the oar in the process. It dipped a little, and I felt it scrape the river’s bottom as we floated ever closer to the exit.

I didn’t worry over it. We weren’t going anywhere near fast enough to cause issue. And right now there was something far more important happening.

She was a thin woman. Not very old, but no longer young. And although she lived and worked this river, she wasn’t very clean… She had a light layer of dirt and grime on her, as if she had been working in a field all day.

Dwab, like the vast majority who have settled down near the Rift… were poor. Struggling to survive.

Giving her a kind smile, I nodded.

Usually we’d still be talking about her family. Or some weird rumor she heard from another one of her passengers.

Usually she’d be all smiles, and she’d be arguing with me to put my coins away. That they were no good here, after all. Dwab was like her mother, a kind woman. A gentle person who was always willing to talk about anything and everything.

Yet ever since we entered the caverns… Instead… once the magic had become visible, she’s been…

She looked down, away from me. And I saw the way her clinched fists shook. As if she was angry.

“I know it’s just a rock. It has to be. It just has to be… It’s just a rock, right Krift?” she begged with her shaking voice.

“It’s just a rock, Dwab. It’s not worth it,” I said softly.

The thin woman looked up at me, meeting my eyes. I watched the way her eyelids twitched. The way a tear slid down the right side of her face.

Reaching down, I grabbed her hand. Gently opening it, I slowly slid the handful of coins into it.

Her tiny and thin fingers trembled, and although I had to force her fingers closed, she didn’t let a single coin drop.

It was a fortune for her. For her family. Enough to leave this river forever… to give her children anything they wanted.

There were more coins in her hand now than she’d earn her whole life working on this river.

Such wealth should have been heavy in her hand. Heavy enough to make her think deep and long… But I knew how light those coins were. Even in such a small woman’s hands. How tiny they felt, when staring at something so big. So valuable.

I knew how dull gold looked, when it sat next to the gleam of magic.

“Just a rock,” I said again, hoping she’d accept. Pleading.

I’d give every coin I had to her, if it stopped her from…

Her eyes widened a little, and their watery gleam brought forth a memory. An old one, nearly forgotten.

For a tiny moment I saw her mother. Just as thin. Thrice as dirty. Staring up at me with a smile, all those years ago.

I could almost hear her giggling in my head. How happy she had been to finish building this raft. How happy she was that I had saved her and her husband.

How she had vowed to always let me ride for free, for the rest of my life. It wasn’t the free rides that I enjoyed. It was their friendship. Their loyalty.

Dwab slowly smiled, and that precious memory I had of her mother shattered at the sight.

“Just a rock,” she wept, as the coins slid from her fingers… and her other hand went for the blade.