He opened his eyes. The world was black all around him now. “Huh?” the tall man groggily mumbled, sitting back up straight, his old, long back cracking as he rose semi-upright. He adjusted his mask, which had slipped up over his eyes as he slept, it was still dark but not entirely. Streams of moonlight painted the world with a pale overtone, coating and mixing into the darkness, rather than repelling it. He stretched his arms out wide, his body rising up into the air from the tips of his toes. The man continued on with several other stretching movements, each accompanied by a fitting grunt and groan.
Soon however, he was ready to move on. But it was dangerous to walk out here like this in the dark. Going through his large pack, before slinging it back over his shoulder with practiced ease, he pulled out a small, hollow metal cylinder and a hooked rod dangling off the side along with a piece of paper. He held the cylinder up to his mask and turned the bottom of the device, resulting in a slight metallic ‘pang’ and a dull orange light began to grow inside the safety of the little chamber. A muffled whisper, carrying muddied words, crept from behind the mask. The device clicked three times and gave no more reaction save for the now vibrant hearth-orange glow of a fully grown fire. The piece of paper had vanished into the night.
Sliding the tiny handle near top of the little device over the hook, he nested it firmly into the side of his pack facing ahead and began walking further down the spiral path, the little lantern swinging too and fro before him, illuminating the dark winding road snaking down further and further into the abyss. His still tired eyes slid to the side occasionally, keeping a constant gaze on the wall guarding the pit. Despite its already considerable distance, he took a step further away from it, nearly rubbing against the rocks and roots guarding his other side.
There, across over on the other side, further below, he could see his next destination. The lights of the small town temptingly shone out into the darkness, beckoning any to wander straight towards them and into the pit. It was a considerable feat to not notice the chasm, however the massive crater had a way of blending in with the night and even those who spent their whole lives here, fell for its deceptions now and then. Looking towards the lights of the town, he marveled at the feat of making such a place in this environment.
The path was wide enough in some places for several carts, and in others, clearings and landings opened up leaving enough space for a large collection of cramped houses. But others were just narrow enough for a lone traveler and his load. He couldn’t see the odd constructions, supporting several of the larger buildings that were hanging bravely over the chasm, but he knew they were there. Large, old wood and metal fastened beams, stabbing into the heart of the earth. Holding weights into a space not meant for the living, as if tempting the gods themselves to topple the meager constructions. The thought made the tired man shudder as he crept on, a dull rhythmic jangle escaping his pack with every step.
He adjusted his white painted mask to wipe off the sweat, collecting beneath. The expressionless face drawn onto it shifting around in the night, glowing in the dim light of the meager lantern, giving it the impression of a floating disembodied head swaying from side to side. He began yawning, but was interrupted as one of his knees made an uncomfortable clicking sensation with his next step. “Ah-!” he cried with accepted disinterest and stretched the leg outward while placing his weight down onto the other. Stretching his foot and toes outward and from side to side, he waited for a familiar crack to once again pang through his knee, so he could continue on with his task.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Another crack, painful yet satisfying snapped somewhere behind his knee and he placed the foot firmly back down to resume onward. The night was fairly bright tonight, the moon shone in full, offering a little assistance to those who were made to wander down dark roads. The crunch of the small rocks and gray dirt beneath his boots accompanying the nightborne sounds of crying insects and the few birds still awake in the trees. Their collective orchestra rang out throughout the chasm, echoing and bouncing from one end to the other, giving it an intensity that it didn’t have up on the surface. It was so noisy, he rubbed the side of his head. Thin, gray brown hair giving way beneath his hands.
After an hour, he had completed half of the walk, the lights of the town had shifted position from across the gap to his left side towards his front now. The lights grew larger and more vivid the closer he got and soon the meager glow of his lantern was accompanied by the aura of civilization. The path grew slowly wider and wider, though the entire path abreast under the company of the light did little to ease his tension, as he glanced over again towards the maw of the chasm again. Even the bright lights of the little town ahead, as bright as they were, simply vanished as they spread over the abyss. Unable to bring a glimmer to the deep blackness below.
From his belt the lanky man grabbed a small leather-clad journal and peered into it, taking a moment to stop to check his numbers. Each page was filled with a name at the top and a collection of different numbers and seemingly unconnected messages and instructions beneath. Some struck through with a thick pen, others hastily scribbled out and removed forever with pitch black ink, which soaked through leaving marks on the pages behind them. Prying them apart, his long fingers carefully crept through the little book he held in one hand until he reached the one he was looking for.
A crooked hand had once written the single word “Achtel” beneath the usual numbers. Some written in the old script, some in newer handwriting. But they shared one pattern, they were steadily rising. He snapped the book shut, closing the flimsy clasp on the front and reattaching the clip on its back to his wrinkled belt before going on. Soon he saw its silhouette standing before him, a high wall breaching from the ground, blocking the road. Several shadowy figures moved out and about atop the simple construction, as they saw the approaching glimmer come from above. He stopped once more, still out of sight and gently placed down his large pack to search for something.
There it was. His entire arm buried in the full bag, he pulled out another mask and looked at it. It was a faint wintergreen and carried the visage of a weak, but noticeable smile. Replacing his current mask with this one, he gently placed everything else back into the large rucksack, before throwing it over his shoulder anew and heading towards the town, which was now expecting him. The smiling man took a deep breath, stretching again as he walked. Though nothing cracked or popped this time. A good omen he thought to himself as he approached the men watching him from above.