“Aura,” Syllis said, “don’t these steps seem a little too large?” Each slab required both women to take two steps before rising up to the next one.
Aura glanced down before flicking her gaze forward again. “Is there such a thing as a rise that’s too gradual? I’m thankful for it. As should you be, imagine stepping up a normal staircase for so long with that thing sticking out the side of you…”
Syllis stayed silent for a moment. She was thankful for the steps! Still, that did not prevent her from questioning them. Any civilization living in the abyss must have had enhanced physical capabilities like the elmannise. She wondered why they needed such wide steps.
“Exactly, I’m thankful. But why would whoever made these steps need them to be so large?”
“Why do you care?” Aura said, letting out a sigh. “All that matters is that they’re large enough for this guy to ascend.” She gestured behind her.
There, one of her ephemeral crows was tirelessly lugging around both Clyde’s corpse and their water. They lacked food, but that did not particularly bother them at the moment.
‘There’s many days that we’ve gone without food. What’s wrong with a couple more?’ Syllis thought to herself and let out a wry laugh.
Aura shot her a glance but ultimately remained silence.
Syllis assumed that she merely thought it was a bi-product of her infection. The secare nymph herself was actually surprised at how much space she still had in her mind—undisturbed. There had been a qualitative change since she entered the fable. It was certainly a faint and gradual process as she had not noticed until now, surrounded by darkness.
‘Let’s see… maybe ten or fifteen percent?’ Syllis tried to use some logic to figure out just how drastic the change was but ultimately, it was futile.
She turned, shooting a slight glance at the woman beside her, and then to the crow. “How exactly are you speaking to me right now, Aura?”
“Hmm? Clyde thwarted my suicide attempt, throwing his life away in exchange,” Aura said, matter-of-factly.
“Right, he did do that…” Syllis said, her face grew sour. “I mean more in terms of your infection? It seems to heavily change whenever it feels like it.”
Aura looked back at her large crow and then back, towards the way they came from. “Let’s stop here for now, we should sleep and drink.”
Syllis was not against the idea. Despite the gradual climb of the stairs lessening the impact, her legs still hurt. More than that her side hurt and it would be beneficial for her to reset the icy-blue tool that allowed her to breath without difficulty.
Aura had explained to her that if it was pulled out prematurely that air would fill the area inside, causing the difficulty breathing again. So, Syllis was not against maintaining it.
The secare nymph understood that this was an attempt to distract from her question. Though, she was certain that she would get her answer eventually.
They unloaded a single jar of water, leaving the rest—along with Clyde’s coffin—tucked neatly in the basket, still tethered to the ephemeral crow. It quietly curled up ten feet from its master.
Syllis in-tied the glow-tree string that tightly held the jars form together. She set it off to the side.
Glub! The water made a few calming noises as Syllis picked up a hollow thick-root from within, dragging it along the surface to fill it with the rich water.
Tilting it back, she swallowed the water in a few large gulps. There was a distinct taste to the water. It was exceptionally clear, filtered through their journey down into the lowest thick-roots of the thick-trees.
Syllis had not cared to inquire further back at the wall. She did not mind remaining unaware. All that mattered to her was that in a fable so dangerous and unyielding—there were slight reprieves such as this.
“Aura?” Syllis called out with concern, “why aren’t you drinking? Do you feel guilty for neglecting to answer my question earlier?”
“Of course not,” Aura said. “It's my choice to share or not. I wouldn’t feel anything over choosing not to answer you. Actually, I’d feel good if anything. I do, I feel good.”
Syllis scrutinized the woman for a second, picking up her lantern to illuminate the woman. “Alright.” She picked up a thick-root, pushing it towards Aura.
The woman nabbed it away without a second thought and scooped a large amount of water. Unlike Syllis who drank like a glutton, Aura operated in a more tasteful manner. She took slight sips, preserving the experience.
“Do you really find it necessary to drink so slowly? We have water everyday, it isn't scarce,” Syllis said. “Also once we make it up this damned staircase there will likely be thick-roots lining the roof of this ‘second abyss.’ What’s there to worry about?”
Aura neglected to speak, simply staring down mindlessly at where they had come from.
“Fine, don’t answer. But in exchange you have to answer a new question.”
“What sort of exchange involves only you getting anything out of it?” Aura looked at her, wide-eyed.
“What do you want, my sanity?” Syllis asked. “Can’t have it, that guy’s borrowing it.” She gestured to the ephemeral crow, or more accurately the icy-blue coffin tethered to it.
Aura laughed wryly and said, “I’m alright. I think I’ll let you and whatever you’re bound to fight over however much remains.” She raised her hand to her chin and scratched.
“Look down there, Syllis,” Aura said. “You can’t see much but me? I can see pretty much all of it. So, imagine how terrifying it is that I—after many hours of walking—am no longer able to see the bottom.
“Where we’ve come from, erased from my vision. Apply the same principle from when we first entered this fable. We were afraid because we can’t go back, still are. At least I am. The same applies here, our path has disappeared into the dark void. Sure, while crossing the sky chasm, the four suns were a constant source of fear but it was tangible.
“Now, in this staircase that could stretch for many times longer than we’ve already walked, I am much more fearful.”
Aura frowned slightly, pulling at the side of her own, charred coat. The bottom was unrecognizable from when she had first received it and the rest of it was rough. The entire thing was morphing into a grayish color, stained by ash.
Syllis did not remark on Aura’s fear. She could not think of anything to add. Her companion had encapsulated even her own fears in a near perfect manner.
She turned to her fearful companions and asked, “are you really not going to tell me why your sanity fluctuates so bizarrely?”
“Aren’t you a comforting presence…” Aura muttered, sarcastically.
“What do you have to lose?” Syllis asked, seriously. “Either we die here and your secret dies with me or we manage to get out and… I have your secret.”
“You know that one of those is a very problematic scenario right?”
“Not to be that person but… I did convince you to live?” Syllis said, unsure. She scooped another full thick-root of water. There was no need to be stingy. They would soon happen upon more.
“Kind of…” Aura said, pausing for more than a few seconds. “Because of the affinity of my bond to—well, my father called it ‘the deep’—but it shares similarities with this abyss. I’ve long thought the reason is because in a similar environment it is easier for him to let me rend and so my creatures take less of a toll and I recover quicker.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
‘Unexpected!’ Syllis coughed, spitting her water over a few lower slabs in front of her. ‘I can understand her reluctance now… If I had something so advantageous I would not reveal it even with a promise of piles of quartz in return!’
“Peculiar,” Syllis remarked. “I wonder if something similar would be the case if I was scaling the side of a mountain range?”
“Don’t get too excited,” Aura warned her. “I was told there were ‘special circumstances’ around my first ritual. It is likely for this reason that I have such a uniqueness.
“Then again, perhaps your ritual was equally as unusual?” She tilted her head to the side, focusing on the secare nymph’s face.
Syllis remained silent for a moment before saying, “something like that… I don’t remember much of it.”
“Surely you know at least a little about it?” Aura asked, eager.
“Maybe it will come to me in my sleep,” Syllis said before shifting a couple feet away.
“Maybe,” Aura said. “I guess I’ll wait. Do you want me to switch off once the coffin begins to melt?”
“It should be a while,” Syllis answered. “Just wake me once it seems like the inside is close to being exposed to the air. It shouldn’t be longer than a couple of hours. For having such a cold presence, devoid of life or any exposure to the four suns, this abyss is much warmer than I expected.”
After she finished talking, Syllis coated the air behind with a layer of thin icy-blue and laid back onto it. She hoped it would last the entire time she slept, the thought of the abyss slightly gnawing at her while she slept was horrific.
----------------------------------------
The next day or night was spent climbing the thick-slabbed staircase. Syllis had gotten sick of the trek five hours into it and Aura by the second.
“Syllis!” Aura called out, excitement rang out in her voice. “I can see it! The end of this tunnel!”
“Finally…” Syllis muttered. “How far is it?” she asked, eager to escape from the staircase they had been walking for around an entire day.
Aura took a couple of seconds to gauge the distance. “Maybe a couple hundred more steps?” she said, unsure.
“That’s great because I don’t think that your solution is helping me anymore,” Syllis said, calmly. “I can feel it getting worse.”
“What?” Aura said, surprised. “That’s odd, your punctured lung should be getting better not worse… Tell me again, how were you injured?”
“You already know this.”
“Tell me again,” Aura demanded.
As they ascended closer to the end of the large staircase, Syllis recounted her fall into the abyss. She told Aura about the initial panic—her first failure, her crash into the jagged rocks and her difficulty breathing shortly after. Her story had not changed from the first couple of times that Syllis had told her.
As they neared the top of the large stair Aura seemed to come to a horrific conclusion as her eyes widened. She nearly bent over to puke, turning away from Syllis.
“What is it? Are you alright?” Syllis asked. She needed to try to breathe with almost thirty percent more effort than it took her before.
“Remember my shattered shoulder?” Aura asked.
Syllis thought it was a reasonable question. It had been more than five months since their first day at the foot of the wall. ‘Still, how could I forget something like that?’ After spending three months at the wall, that encounter remained as their closest brush with death.
“Of course,” she responded.
“Th—those creatures that lined the walls of the abyss had coated my shoulder and were eating away at it. Korman told me about it after the fact.”
“I remember,” Syllis said.
They had been the secare nymph’s main source of guilt in that wound. The main injury was harsh but Korman had needed to scar her skin by burning the gnawing abyss stragglers that ate away at her shoulder.
“When you hit the jagged rock. When it pierced your lung. It left behind those same stragglers. It's these stragglers that are now eating away at your lungs.”
Syllis’ eyes widened as she bent over to puke. They had not eaten food for days though, only her stomach acid came rushing out. After defacing the slab upon which she stood, Syllis rose and turned to face Aura.
“There’s the catch though… I heard that Korman needed to burn the area to rid you of those stragglers. My lung wouldn’t hold up through such a treatment.” Syllis laughed heartily, wearing a crazed expression on her face.
“So, that’s it?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Aura said, honestly. She kicked her feet against the ground before they continued walking.
As they reached the top of the large staircase, Syllis asked, “how long before I can’t breathe anymore?”
“A few hours maybe? I’m not sure.”
“Me neither.” Syllis could tell that at the rate her breathing was declining over the last few hours that it was getting worse faster than before.
‘No, maybe it has been getting worse since the injury. Did I just blame it on the slow treatment?’
Neither of them spoke for a minute as they began to walk forwards. The staircase had ended but there was now a slight, smaller walkway for them to traverse.
After a couple of minutes, they arrived at a large door. Of course, Syllis was not entirely sure what it entailed. That was what Aura had described it as, her ability to paint an image for her, Korman and Clyde to comprehend had never been great.
The secare nymph walked up the ‘door’ and swung her lantern in front of her. “It’s indeed a door. Or a couple, maybe?”
It was a slightly confusing sight, especially for Syllis. The light from her lantern could not envelop the entirety of the black door, molded from the surrounding abyss.
“Whatever made this door and those stairs must have lived many times longer than the elmannise. The difference in craftsmanship is absurd.” Syllis caressed the engravings that were etched into the abyssal door. It was like they told a story, one that the secare nymph—despite wanting to understand with the entirety of her being—just could not read.
The door—apart from its clear-cut engravings—was also smooth, unblemished. The slabs that both of them had spent the past day walking were not equal in quality with the door, but still far above anything they had seen that was formed by the elmannise. The wall and its surrounding area was crude in comparison. Far below the quality of the door they stood in front of now as well as quite inferior to the main interior of Abyssia as well.
“So, how do we get through?” Aura asked, more to herself than Syllis.
Syllis moved her lantern as she walked, the light washing over the area in front of her as she looked for any sort of handle or lock.
“Just because it’s a foreign world does not mean that their doors should be any different,” Syllis said. “Everybody wants their privacy. We’re looking for a lock.”
“Naturally,” Aura scoffed at her companion’s remark. “It’s a door, it can’t be too complicated. The problem is that this lock could be different than anything in our world.
“What about those grooves, on both sides of the door?” Aura asked, running over to the one on the left of the door.
Syllis imitated her, running her finger along the other, cold groove. The cut in the door grew deeper as it rose towards the ceiling. “We have to shove a couple keys into these grooves? Aren’t they a little too obvious?”
“Not entirely. The elmannise are people with deadly consequences for any crime. Their enhanced attributes allowed them to uphold such a thing,” Aura said. “It would be nearly impossible for a crime to be committed without anyone hearing or seeing anything related to it. There’s a good possibility this civilization is the same way.”
“So you want to try and open it blind?” Syllis asked, raising a brow. This was not the astute Aura she had known. Back when they first entered the fable she was cautious. Most of her abrasiveness and reckless nature were both left behind once they had escaped the four suns’ flame.
“Of course not,” Aura scoffed. “Form a sort of key for us to use.”
Syllis obliged, taking a minute to form the icy-blue needle-point spear she had coalesced many times over. It was her constant helper throughout the fable. That and her more crude but still efficient javelin.
She handed the needle-point spear—less refined than she typically made them—to Aura.
Aura took it from her and rended the space above the spear. She flipped the spear upside down and caught one of the slight, ephemeral maggots that fell from the tear in the air, leaking green light. She set it onto the base of the spear and walked over to one of the grooves.
“Syllis, could you raise it?” Aura asked, nicely.
The secare nymph nodded silently and began raising the spear towards the top of the groove.
This enabled Aura to put all of her effort into seeing through the maggots vision and assessing the situation.
“Stop,” Aura said once the spear reached an adequate height. She grew silent as she looked for any sign of traps, through the maggot. Then, she began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Syllis asked.
“There’s truly no trap or an advanced lock,” Aura said, placing a hand over her mouth. “It’s a damn abyssal slab that lifts when pushed, allowing the door to move.”
“Huh? So we only need another spear?” Syllis asked. The civilization seemed relatively advanced with their adept usage of the abyss. It felt like a disservice for them to have such a primitive door.
“Not even,” Aura said, snatching the needle-point spear from Syllis’ hands. She pushed it upwards with all of her force, shifting the abyssal slab as she pushed against the door with her left side. Easily, it was pushed open.
Syllis stepped into the doorway and shone her lantern upwards. It illuminated a pure-black abyssal slab that bridged the gap of the opened door. It connected the right side of the door to the left. After being pushed open, the slab now sat on a small platform on the left wall of the abyss, waiting to lock the door in place again. She looked ahead and remarked on the slanted top of the left door, allowing it to be pushed into the abyssal slab and lock itself again.
‘Seriously? That’s all they could come up with.’ Syllis was dumbfounded. This group of people who had managed to reshape the world around them to a degree she could not even comprehend had such a doorway safeguarding their city.
Aura commanded her ephemeral crow to step through the doorway and—looking through its eyes—she gasped. There was a brief moment of silence.
“They don’t need a very great lock…” Aura muttered. “The sheer scale of this city is more than enough to make any opposition run away.” She immediately rended another tear in the space in front of her. A second ephemeral crow stepped out from it.
Aura climbed atop, looked at Syllis and said, “get on, let’s see if we can find a way out in these few hours.”