A gentle stream of water runs down the rock, splashing quietly as it strikes down against the stones below and as I walk, I graze my fingers along the surface of the wall, feeling the gentle trickle drip over and between my fingers, as it follows its solitary journey down to the darkness below. Safe travels, water.
The water doesn’t respond. But that’s okay. It doesn’t need to, I understand, water. Go. Be free. We’ll meet again one day and you can talk to me then, if you feel like it.
There are more crystals here. I suppose the skeleton-casters have a pretty long plot-line. Too bad everything is all jumbled up and nothing makes sense anymore. But this place is nice. I like it here. It’s calm. I feel calm. The water is calm.
The floor itself, floor uh…
“Thirty-eight.”
Thanks, floor thirty-eight is a series of flat, stonework bridges that span a strangely criss-crossing series of rivers. I suppose they aren’t rivers, but rather channels that have been carved into the dungeon to serve as veins. Clear water flows from one end of the floor to the next, washing over the many submerged crystals that lie beneath the surface. The water itself is calm. But should it be?
Bending down into a squat, I lean forward and stare at the soft water before me. It still moves. But it barely does so as it washes over the shimmering magical crystals that lie beneath the surface, cleaning them of any debris and dust and filth from the muck of the world that they had been torn out from. Or maybe extracted is the right word? Torn out sounds so… harsh. Harvested? Collected? Something like that. Uh… Huh? What’s that?
I narrow my eyes, looking down at the water curiously. Setting the lance down, I lift my free hand and poke the surface of the wet, disturbing the pristine glass-top. A small ripple emanates outward, expanding out from where my hand touches. Is that me?
I stare at the water, at the skull in the water that stares back at me. It must be me? Or? Hmm… Nah. I don’t think I look like that. The other in the water looks so sad and scary.
I lean in closer. There is a reflection of my arm in the water, the tips of our fingers meeting as if we were reaching for another from two different planes of existence and as I follow the length of the other’s arm up to his body, I see the eyes in the water move to do the very same. Swirling my finger, I draw a circle into the water and watch as the other in the water does the same. Is this me? No. Or?
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I tilt my head, trying to get a better view of the other in the water. You don’t look so good, stranger.
No words come in return, only a vacant skull that stares my way and I peer into it, searching for some deeper meaning for its presence.
The ripple from my moving hand comes to move over its face, disturbing it as the wave crosses over, the visage becoming distorted and vague for just a brief moment until the water subsides again. Until it becomes calm again. Who are you, stranger? Why are you looking at me like that? I frown, feeling unhappy at the sight I see. I stare deeper and deeper into the hollow sockets of the skull in the water, but the longer I stare. The less I see. They look empty. Hollow. Bare.
I drop from my squat, down onto my bottom and cross my legs. Setting the egg down next to me for a moment, the slime goes with it, choosing it over me, as I stare into the water. I turn to look at her for a moment, but she isn’t really occupied with me in the least, she just cares about the egg. How does that make me feel? It’s complicated, I guess.
I look back at the empty eyes in the water. They look harrowing. Haunted. Possessed. Wrapping my fingers around my knees, I lean in forward, trying to look closer, trying to figure out what it is that I don’t like about the other in the water, if anything at all. Why is this even important to me? Shouldn’t I be working right now?
I tilt my head the other way and the other in the water does the same.
How did you get into the water, friend? Is it nice down there? I was in the water once too, you know? But I didn’t have a great time. It was… itchy.
The other in the water doesn’t say anything, simply staring back at me with those weird eyes. Why do you look like that, stranger? What have you seen? Come on! It can’t be that bad, right? How about you turn that frown upside-down, eh?
The other in the water does no such thing. Maybe they’ve had a bad day? I mean, it’s hard to believe, but even down here in the dungeon people can have a rough time now and then. The dark-lord grants us his bounty, but sometimes the reaping of it is less successful than other times. Opening my palm, I press it against the surface of the water, trying to grab the other’s hand. Don’t worry, friend! I’m sure tomorrow will be a better day. Let’s both do our best, okay?
I lean in closer, pressing my face nearly into the water as I wait for the other’s response. Come on! I push my arm into the water, trying to grab the other’s arm to pull them up to me on my high perch. There’s no use in sitting down there on your own! If you’re having a bad day today, then just stick with me, guy. We can walk together and talk while we do it. Then, next time, when I feel bad, you can come and get me, huh? How about it? Wanna be friends?
Suddenly, a crackle can be heard and I turn around in a half-excitement. Is the egg hatching?
But as I look at the egg, I see that nothing has changed. It’s just sitting there, the same as always and she is busy with it instead of me, same as always. We used to be friends, you know? But then it came. That stupid egg. I hate it. Now there’s no-one… no-one…
I turn back to the water, staring as its surface becomes foggy. As the top layer begins to crackle, as a thin layer of ice forms above it, as the calm water begins to solidify. Take my arm, stranger! Before it’s too late!
Hurrying, I yank my arm back as I feel a resistance around it. But as I pull it out and my hand breaches the surface again, I see that it is empty. I only felt the ice growing around it.
Leaning over forward, I look desperately into the water. Get out of there, stranger! It’s not safe to be in the water!
But as I look at the flat plane, as I stare at the foggy layer of rough ice that has grown over the surface, all I see is my own, distorted reflection looking back at me. Its eyes… I hate them. I hate that look that they have.
Something wet squelches in the distance.