And finally, my stay in Haven has come full circle.

I woke up in the interrogation room; in truth, it’s just a spare office for the Chief that’s used by a couple other townspeople from time to time. The Chief herself mostly just uses it to store books she can’t fit in her surprisingly well-stocked library.

I was brought back to the interrogation room.

Now, I’m the one doing the interrogating. One of them, at least. It’s mostly the Chief asking the questions. But hey, I’m not chained to a chair or getting poked in my wings!

The subject of the interrogation, however, is in an… unfortunate state that I can fully sympathise with.

It was late at night when they were discovered, and unfortunately, their hideout happened to be in the roof space right above Council’s chambers. Hidden right under our noses, but not…. Under my wings? Something like that. It was decided that some punishment was in order for our little thief and the trouble they caused. So, after they were apprehended and chained to a chair, it was decided to leave them like that in the interrogation room overnight. Partly as punishment, partly to make the interrogation process a little smoother.

Although, maybe it was a little too harsh to leave him chained up to a chair on his own overnight. His simple linen clothes, consisting of pants and a shirt that’s started to tear around the hems, are covered in dust and dark, reddy-brown stains from dried mud. The awful smell of urine hangs around him, and there’s a noticeable dark stain on his pants. His eyes are puffy and red from crying, his fingernails cracked and dirty as he grasps helplessly at the softly glowing golden chains wrapped around his body.

His short, scruffy hair is black as night, with pointed ears peeking out through the scruff, and his fringe comes down to just above his dark red eyes with bright white pupils. He’s undoubtedly a child of the Abyss. A child, alone and desperate, trying to survive in a world designed to make you suffer.

“Uuuu… I’m sorry… I’ll never steal anything again… I’ll be a good boy… I’ll be a good boy… I’ll be good, I promise…” The chained-up boy wails, his head slumped back on the chair.

“He’s been like this all night?” Rann asks, tilting his head.

“He was kicking and screaming curses for a couple hours. After a couple hours, though, he started moaning and wailing more than he was cursing. The lad even pissed himself after begging to be let out so he could relieve himself for an hour.” Vann shrugs. “What are we to do, Chief?”

The Chief gives a brief grunt of acknowledgement, but says nothing. She sits on a chair across from the boy bound by her golden chains, studying his face for any details it may betray.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it. Couldn’t get a wink of sleep from his wailing last night…” Vann says, standing up and rubbing his eye as he heads towards the door.

“And why were you trying to get some sleep on guard duty, young man?” Rann says, cocking an eyebrow at his grandfather.

“An old codger like you would know to value every moment of rest he gets.” Vann shoots back in the doorway at his grandson. “Besides, if the Chief’s chains can hold down someone like Marina, they’re more than adequate to hold down a kid.”

“You’ve earned some rest, Vann. Thank you.” Tiff smiles. Vann sees his way out.

“Miss… please… I’m thirsty… I’m hungry… I made myself dirty… I’d do anything for a bath… I’m sorry…” The boy groans. Tiff can’t help but show the worry on her face.

“Mia…” She turns to the Chief, but the Chief just huffs in response.

“Bold of a thief to be making demands, don’t you think?” Rann crosses his arms, looking down at the boy.

“I didn’t even take anything of value! Just things I’d need! You had so much meat and so many shiny things… I thought you wouldn’t miss a little…” The boy whines, kicking his legs impotently.

“Little? You amassed quite the stockpile there. You can’t just take people’s things without asking and not expect them to be upset.” Rann explains, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.

“I wasn’t just taking it for me!! My friends needed it! I was doing it for them! We have so little to eat or things to play with outside…” The boy starts to cry, looking down at his lap.

“How many friends do you have outside here? Are they all your age…?” Tiff asks.

“Five… we’re all just kids… we can keep hidden, but… we have so little to eat…” The boy sobs.

It makes sense that they’d all be kids, given the state of the Abyss. I guess some kids are plucky enough to survive out there on their own or in small groups. It’s not impossible to live out there, it’s just… harsh.

“We have room here, you know. You don’t have to steal from us to survive. We’ll never turn away someone in need, especially not children.” Tiff nods.

“But… I already stole things… I heard how angry the adults are… A-and, you left me like this all night!... I don’t like it here, I want to go home…” He pleads, struggling in vain against his golden bonds.

“You might have gone wholly unnoticed if you didn’t take so much so quickly. Grew up on the streets back up above, didn’t you?” Rann asks. The boy nods, tears staining his cheeks.

“Flung from the streets into a hell like this… You didn’t deserve this, kid. You’ve been fighting to survive all your lives, haven’t you?”

“You…” The boy shrinks back into his chair, fear suddenly filling his eyes. “You’re the winged one… How did you find me? I was so quiet… Are you a monster? A demon…?”

“I… er… I just had a feeling come over me. A gut feeling.”

“Your gut’s pretty accurate, Marina. You swallow a scryer or something?” Rann chuckles.

“I hope not.”

“Heh. Anyway, kid, There’s one thing I want to know. How did you find this settlement?” Rann turns his attention to the boy bound to the chair. He doesn’t answer, sheepishly looking away as he sniffles quietly.

“... You were the one following us, weren’t you? From the stonefields, all the way down the Seeping Wound…” The boy can’t hide his guilt as Rann clearly hits bang on the money. Rann rubs his cheek. “I’ll be… your gut’s a smart one, Marina.”

“Chief, are you going to ask anything, or… can we at least get him out of his chains? He needs a wash, at the very least…” Tiff sighs.

Everyone’s attention turns to the Chief, who has been quietly sitting and watching the boy. The boy turns to look at her, trying, but struggling to maintain eye contact with her.

“... Marina. The gut feeling that you were being followed went away when you turned off from the Seeping Wound, yes?” The Chief finally speaks.

“Yes. It went away pretty quickly once we stopped following the stream. The area closer to Haven is more thickly forested than the other regions we passed, so it may have been easier to hide-”

“That’s all I need. Thank you, Marina.” The Chief nods at me, before turning back to the boy, her eyes narrowed and her voice harsh. “You can drop the act now.”

Silence hangs for a moment, as the boy nervously shuffles in his chair.

“... Tch. They weren’t lying about your soul see-er thing, were they.” The boy huffs.

His whole demeanour changes in an instant. Gone is the meek, sobbing boy, pleading for forgiveness and relief from his punishment. Instead, an annoyed, mouthy kid slumps back in the chair, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Eh? Mia?” Tiff looks back and forth between the boy and the Chief, a little confused.

“You think I’d spill the beans from one night in chains? I spent weeks in the jailer’s cells. You don’t have the heart to do the shit he did to kids like me.” The boy scoffs.

“Yet you still put on the innocent little boy act thinking it would work, didn’t you?” The Chief tilts her head slightly.

“It worked on the other stupid adults. I just got unlucky you have lie-reading bullshit, and your creepy winged friend that could sense me from hundreds of tals away. Didn’t figure I’d run into some witch and their demon-familiar down in this shithole…” He groans. He goes to cross his arms and lean back in his chair, only, well, he can’t.

Calling me a “creepy winged friend” and a “demon-familiar” is one thing, but having the guts to call the Chief “some witch”?

“Yes, you’re quite unlucky to have run into some witch and her demon-familiar. You seemed like an intelligent child, but I suppose not if you’d do something so foolhardy.” The Chief sighs softly.

“What’s so foolhardy?” The kid scoffs.

Before he knows it, the chair he’s chained to is now floating mid-air in the room, a metre below the ceiling. The chair and the boy are then inverted, looking bewildered as the Chief raises her hand.

“Angering said witch.” She says.

“Wh- Aaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!” The kid squeals as the chair starts violently shaking up and down, jostling them back and forth while keeping him held upside-down. Any small trinkets and loose items he had in his pockets fall to the floor as he’s taken for the ride of his life.

“O-okay!! I’m sorry!! I’ll talk!! Just put me down! Put me down put me down put me down put me down please put me down please please please put me dowwwwn!” He wails, with genuine distress this time.

“You’ll have to do more than talk to change my mind. You’ve caused a lot of trouble, you know, and it’s quite gratifying hearing you cry after mouthing off at me.” The Chief grins to herself, waving her index finger up and down to fling the boy up and down in the air.

“You witch! You’re just toying with me for your own twisted amuse-meeeeeeeeeeeennnntttttttttt!” With a sigh, the Chief starts wagging her finger side-to-side, and the chair correspondingly jolts side-to-side, the boy’s head jerking left and right.

“O-okay! Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Put me down or I’m gonna be siiiiiick…” The boy’s face starts looking terribly discoloured as he pleads. Finally, the Chief relents, flipping him right-side up and plopping him back down on the floor.

The boy, any resolve and willpower beaten out of him, slumps forward against the chains, groaning in pain.

“That’s better. Now, I’m going to ask some questions, and for each question I ask, you will give me an answer and only an answer. Are we clear?” The Chief flashes her patently false and threatening smile. The boy, in no place to protest or disagree, nods shakily in agreement.

“Good. First question. How did you find Haven?” She asks, crossing her legs.

“The bloodbeast hunt… I followed them back… The winged girl somehow knew I was following them, had to hide…” The boy groans out.

“Tiff.” The Chief says, and Tiff starts noting things down with her quill from the table. “Second. How did you get into Haven?”

“Tunnel… Cave…” The boy answers.

“Which tunnel and cave? The Cellars and its hidden route? How did you find its entrance?” She questions, leaning forward.

“It was easy… just follow the jackhorn tracks..” He murmurs, hiccuping.

“The jackhorn tracks? What jackhorn tracks?” The Chief looks taken aback, glancing up at Rann.

“The jackhorn… Jackhorn burrows run all over the place. They’re too small for an adult to fit through, but a child… That’s crazy, though. A jackhorn will gore anything that gets into its burrow on its antlers” Rann ponders, looking at the boy.

The boy points to a small sprig of dried grey leaves on the floor near the chair, something that fell out his pocket as he was being… shaken upside-down. Rann picks it up, sniffing it.

“What is this? Some kind of herb?” He asks, inspecting it. “Gh… pungent smell to it.”

“It’s hornsage… it keeps jackhorns away…” The kid mumbles.

Rann nods, tucking the “hornsage” in his pocket.

“Right. You followed a jackhorn burrow and found the tunnel that leads down to the Cellars. You followed that tunnel up into the lower caves of the Cellars, then found your way in to Haven. Correct?” The Chief continues. The boy nods.

“Good, then my next question…” The boy looks up at the Chief as she pauses. “What did you promise the children of Haven in exchange for their assistance?”

The boy falls silent as his pupils dilate. The Chief patiently awaits his reply.

“... What did they tell you?” He finally speaks up, his voice soft and cautious.

“That you knew a secret way out of Haven, besides the main gate and the tunnel through the Cellars. You said you came in via the tunnel through the Cellars. It seems the tunnel has more than one entrance, yes, but there’s only one exit.” She smiles to herself. He’s caught in her trap now.

He gulps audibly, sitting upright and steeling himself, saying nothing.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Hmm. I have plenty of time to get answers out of you, boy. But I’ll ask one more question… Who are you working for?” The Chief leans forward in her chair, staring down the defiant child chained up before her.

The child stays silent, staring back at the Chief in a show of resolve.

“What’s your name, child?” Tiff speaks up, interrupting the staring contest of the century. The boy scoffs, refusing to answer her.

“Did you tell the other children your name?” She asks, using the gentle, kind voice she uses with the children of Haven.

“Tch… You think I’d give them my real name?” The boy shifts his glare to Tiff, looking down his nose at her.

“And what is the worth of some dead street urchin’s name, boy?” Rann says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

The boy’s iron will falters, looking up at Rann in shock at such an insult, his face contorting into a scowl.

“And who gives a shit about the name of some scruffy old man who went to hell?” He spits back.

Rann grins, pulling up a stool for himself and sitting in front of the boy, his hands on his knees.

“My name is Rann Carteren, proud warrior of the Carteren bloodline and grandson of Vann Carteren, the man who left this room a while ago. I could swing a sword before I could walk. I was the biggest, toughest lad in town, and I’d take on anyone who bullied those weaker than them. I killed my first man before I was ten, and he was only the first of many. I was always first in the fray, the first unto the breach, hacking apart men who’d seen hundreds more battles than me to pieces. I was protecting my home and my people, you see. The north is a hard place. Hard places breed hard people, but it also breeds the cruel and the desperate. There were always those looking to seize what they didn’t have from those that did. Why am I here? I carved my way through the vanguard of Grash the Cruel, Warlord of the Frozen Peaks, then I carved him to pieces too. The remnants of his army did the same thing to me. Guess they didn’t have the courtesy to see me off properly.” Rann rubs his stubbled chin, chuckling to himself.

“... Is there a point, or are you just gonna share your life story, old man?” The boy frowns, not knowing where this story’s going.

“You’re not here for your own sake, are you, boy?” Rann asks.

The boy looks almost surprised at Rann’s question, but he gives no response.

“I know that look in your eye. The look of someone that’s been fighting all his life. Me, I chose to pick up the blade. I didn’t have to. The blade was shoved into your hand, and you had no choice but to take it.” Rann’s words clearly stir something in the boy, but I’m not the expert emotion-reader in the room.

The Chief sits back, raising an eyebrow as her expression softens.

“What’re you seeing, Chief?”

“Conflict.” She answers, keeping her eyes on the boy.

“... You have plenty here. I was going to take what was needed and go, but…” The boy speaks up, only for his voice to trail off again as he looks down at the floor.

“The other children sympathised with your cause.” The Chief finishes for him. The boy nods once, and the Chief smiles to herself. “Hmm. We’re doing a good job raising them, if that’s the case.”

“D-don’t… Don’t punish them. I told them I’d be gone within a day after taking what I needed, but they…” The boy starts, fidgeting in his restraints as he struggles to get the words out.

“They helped you. It would explain why so much went missing so quickly and quietly.” The Chief chimes in, sighing quietly.

“The other kids… helped steal things for him?”

“They likely did. It’s why I stressed that there was only a thief, not that there were thieves. As I said, I wanted to avoid the children’s dormhouse being turned upside-down by a mob of angry villagers. Thankfully, now that the main perpetrator has been caught and the stolen items returned, the anger in town has died down, so we can focus on what’s important.” She says, standing up in front of the boy. “Have the children told you the first rule of Haven?”

“... No one leaves Haven.” He answers.

The Chief walks over to the window, glancing outside. From this room near the back of the tavern, you can see the clear, shimmering pools of clean water fed by the Crystalfall, and the distant rush of waterfall itself, thundering down the stark cliffs that form the impassable walls that trap us all in the Abyss.

“You’re right. We have plenty here. Not as much as most of us would like, but we have what’s important. Shelter. Clean water. Food. Clothes. Community. Security. We look after each other as best we can in a world designed to make us suffer. If your motives are the same, child,” She turns to face the boy. “After appropriate punishment has been given for all the things you took that weren’t yours… You’re more than welcome to stay.”

The boy looks down at his lap, thinking before giving his answer.

“I can’t.” He says.

“The expedition team will join you. You can lead them to where your friends are, out in the Abyss, and they can all come back to stay here.” She continues, but the boy shakes his head.

“I… We can’t. We swore oaths to protect and provide for those that needed it. We can’t abandon them.” He looks up at the Chief, his face resolute and stern.

“Them?” She asks.

“The children of the Abyss.” He answers.

Everyone in the room goes quiet after hearing the boy’s answer.

His resolve is clear. This boy, a child of twelve years at most, has sworn an oath to protect the children that awaken to find themselves in the Abyss, which for the last twenty years, has been… every new person in the Abyss. I don’t know how quickly or how often children have been ending up here, but given the fact that a third of Haven’s population are fifteen and under, that gives me a clear notion of just how often it happens.

And that’s just the kids that are found, and brought back to Haven. Who knows how many are lucky enough to find another friendly group to take them in. Who knows how many perish long before they’re found, if their remains are ever found at all.

“Well then, Chief. What are we going to do about this?” Rann sighs, leaning against the wall.

“I suppose we can bend the rules on this occasion. There will be caveats, however.” The Chief says, walking back over and taking her seat.

“Caveats…?” The boy asks, leaning forward in his restraints.

“How large is your group, and who are they?” She answers his question with one of her own.

“We…” He gulps, overcoming his nerves. “We are the Wolf Pups. We protect and provide for the children of the Abyss when no one else will. Sworn enemies of the Bone-Breakers, and oathsworn warriors of the Wolf Que- mnphhh.” He suddenly bites his lower lip, stopping himself from finishing the sentence, as if he were about to speak a terrible taboo.

“The Wolf… Queen?”

“Y-you didn’t hear that- I mean there is no one with that name! There’s only the Wolf Pups! Oathsworn warriors of the- Of no one! Of the children we protect!!” The boy blurts out, trying desperately to cover his tracks.

“The Wolf Pups? I haven’t heard of… well, that’s not surprising, I suppose. Are all of the Wolf Pups children?” Tiff asks.

“Our oldest are the Red Wolves, protectors of the… u-uh… of the thing! The oldest Red Wolf is eighteen years in age!” The boy answers, stumbling over his own words to avoid bringing up the “wolf queen” again.

“Red wolves? Like the pelt Rann wears sometimes across his shoulders?”

“That’s a bonehound pelt, Marina. Although… They do look like big red wolves.” Rann ponders.

“You… you have a red wolf pelt, mister?” The boy looks up at Rann. He called him “mister” instead of “old man” this time.

“That I do. Took it down myself. Tough old bastard, it was. Nearly took my hand off.” Rann smiles to himself, reminiscing his past victory.

“A red wolf…” The boy mumbles in awe. It seems Rann has won his respect.

“I’ll have to mark down the presence of another group in the Abyss then. What is your name, wolf pup?” The Chief asks.

“... Crow.” He answers. He has the pitch-black hair for it.

“Crow of the Wolf Pups. Would the Wolf Pups be willing to accept Haven’s assistance in their mission to protect the children of the Abyss?” The Chief lays out her offer.

“I don’t have the rank to agree to that offer…” Crow responds, looking down.

“I thought not. Which is why I want to meet someone who does. Preferably, this Wolf Queen of yours, whom I assume is your leader.” She continues.

Crow furrows his brow. The Chief makes a generous offer, but not only is he not in a position to accept it, the Chief wants to make it to his presumptive leader herself. I’ve heard of the various groups around the Abyss that are large or strange enough to have titles. The Bone-Breakers, a roving tribe of warriors who only respect strength. The Keepsguard, who live in a castle and wear full plate armour. Even the stranger ones like the Tall Nomads, who live in the trees and walk on stilts. This is the first time any of us are hearing of the Wolf Pups, but the existence of a group made entirely of children is… well, given the circumstances of this place, it makes sense. It’s just a possibility that no one had really considered.

It’s not a possibility you’d want to consider.

“I don’t know if I can do that. I have to get back in contact with the pups to share the situation…” Crow answers. “I haven’t been gone for ten days, so they wouldn’t be wondering where I went. I’m a tracker, so… I track things. I’m used to going out on my own.”

“Where are your fellow wolf pups situated, Crow? How far out did you roam to find Haven, tucked away in a corner as it is?” Rann asks, sitting back down and leaning back in his chair.

“The Dead Hollows.” Crow says.

“The Dead-” Rann nearly doubles-over in his chair, looking shocked. “Well… If you’re willing to crawl through jackhorn burrows, the hollows aren’t a terrible place to hide. Close to Dead Man’s Dream, too. I imagine you stick close to there for good reason.”

“They’re not as bad as you think if you know where to go. It’s cool, the water’s not super dirty. Lots of edible roots and berries.” Crow nods.

“Can… someone explain to me what or where the “Dead Hollows” are…?”

“It’s a thick forest riddled with caves, tunnels, and burrows where the smaller critters of the Abyss like to hide. It’s impassable if you don’t know your way through it, and most don’t, so they can only go around it. Those that do try and go through it… well, they just end up food for the trees. It’s just to the north of the place you and many others wake up in, Marina. Dead Man’s Dream. Haven’s situated up against the western edge of the Abyss, although don’t ever tell anyone outside Haven that.” Rann explains.

“And how far are the Dead Hollows from Haven?”

“Two days’ march.” Rann answers.

“One day.” Crow answers simultaneously.

“... So…?”

Who’s correct?

“Ah, well. If you’re travelling light, you could get there in a day. We rarely travel light, though.” Rann concedes.

“We wouldn’t need to go all the way to the Hollows. We have camps all around the centre to try and find as many children as we can, and to keep our eyes everywhere.” Crow says. “We saw your last sweet-tree sap harvest. And when you captured the wing girl… not that we knew she had wings.”

“Hmm. I thought we were being watched at the sweet-tree camp.” Rann raises an eyebrow slightly.

“My name’s Marina, by the way. Marina Retali.”

“I didn’t ask you, wing girl.” Crow scowls.

“Marina is my assistant, and you will treat her with the respect she deserves and call her by name, Crow.” The Chief narrows her eyes at Crow.

“Hmph. I didn’t ask you either, witch.” Crow looks away, turning his nose up.

“Crow. You’re a diplomat here, remember. A little respect goes a long way.” Rann comments.

“... Fine. Sorry. Chief, and Marina.” Crow huffs, begrudgingly calling us by more proper terms.

“That’s better.” The Chief smiles dryly. “With luck and proper preparation, we’ll make it to the Hollows in under three days, and I can discuss terms with your Wolf Queen, Crow. I look forward to our forces cooperating.”

“... We? You mean, you want to come along, Chief?” Rann blinks in disbelief.

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s only fair that one leader visits another face to face for important matters.” She brushes off Rann’s surprise.

“But, Chief, you haven’t left Haven since you first came here…” Tiff voices her concern.

“I will be with Rann, Marina, and the expedition team. There won’t be a problem; we’d barely be gone for a week.” The Chief shrugs.

“B-but, Chief, you’ve never left Haven. How is it supposed to run smoothly without you?” Tiff’s worries only grow in the face of the Chief’s dismissive attitude.

“You, Anton, and Vann will be fine without me for a few days, Tiffany. You’re hardworking, diligent people I place my trust in everyday. Haven will be fine.” The Chief’s irritation starts to show, but Tiff presses on.

“Chief, you won’t have the comforts of your warm bed, or food hot from the kitchen, or a change of clothes, or even a pillow, or maybe not even a roof out in the Abyss, are you sure you want to go out there?” Tiff’s concern is genuine, as is the Chief’s agitation.

“I’ll be fine! I’m not some silver-spoon coddled bookworm who spent all her life in palaces! I told you how many times I tried to run away and how I almost succeeded!” The Chief yells, but Tiff keeps her calm, trying to talk the Chief out of charging off into the Abyss.

“U-um… if you… don’t need me here anymore, then…” Crow speaks up, his voice shaky.

“Ah… Yes?” The Chief turns to face him.

“C-can I… go take a bath now… if that’s okay…” He sniffles, struggling weakly against the golden chains still binding him.

“A-ah… Tiff, could you…” The Chief waves away the boy’s chains, finally, as Tiff gets up to go help him make his way towards the door.

“You’re serious about joining us out there, Chief? Couldn’t we convince this Wolf Queen to come to us?” Rann asks, standing beside the Chief as she gets up.

“We’ll be fine. If anyone tries anything, I’ll blast them back to the Overlands with lightning.” She scoffs, crossing her arms.

“That’s my point. You’re Haven’s secret weapon. If people find out that Haven has a powerful mage, you’re no longer secret.” He continues.

“We have Marina now. The backup secret weapon. Besides, if they know I’m a mage, they’re even less likely to try anything if they somehow find Haven.” She sighs, before explaining herself further. “Nothing is going to change down here if we stick to the status quo. If we’re going to get out of here, we need manpower. Allying with, and eventually merging with this group of capable children helps secure our future. I don’t know about you, but I’m not content to spend the rest of my afterlife stuck in this red, muddy, miserable, blood-soaked hellhole.”

She storms towards the door, having made her point.

“It’s not that I don’t agree with you, Chief. I’d just rather not see you get hurt.” He calls out.

The Chief stops in the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re my bodyguard.” And she’s gone.

“... I won’t really be a secret weapon if I’m also going on this adventure back out into the Abyss.”

“If you want to tell her that, be my guest. Her mind is set.” Rann shrugs.

“So you died in battle, huh? Going down in a blaze of glory, defeating this… “Grash the Cruel”?”

“Marina.” Rann chuckles, heading for the door.

“What?”

“I died in battle, yes. But. Have you ever heard of anyone with the name “Grash” before?” He grins at me, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone.

…

What?

“H-hey! Don’t leave me here!!”

“Clean up the floor. It’ll make the Chief happy.” He calls through the door, his voice fading into the distance.

He… Really?! I’m the last one in here so I have to clean up the mess?! They planned this! What am I even supposed to clean this up with? My wings?”

One wing jabs me in the back of the neck for suggesting such a thing. I was kidding, wings. I wouldn’t actually- Hey! I said I was kidding! Cut it out!

Well… I guess I’ll be going on another field trip soon. If the Chief herself is going, then I don’t have much of a choice. Maybe I really am her familiar if I’m going to be dragged around everywhere with her.

She wants to get everyone out of the Abyss, though. Everyone. And I can’t blame her for wanting to help a group primarily consisting of children. She’s harsh, prickly, irritable, and difficult, but she’s a deeply caring person. I respect that about her.

Maybe, under her leadership, we really will make it out of here one day. Currently, however, that plan relies on me being able to fly six hundred metres straight up to inspect the state the old crane that helped build Haven is in.

I can jump two to three metres up with my wings right now. Maybe four with a running start. All it comes down to is practice, hard work, and trust.

If we’re going to make it out of the Abyss with everyone, then there’s nothing more important than trust.

And trust is more fragile down here than I thought.