Ori’s basic plan as he reached to open the door was to find some allies, he had a whole bunch of keys, so hopefully some folks, other abductees could join him in organising a mass breakout together, or maybe he’d find an old wizard like Gandalf who would, after being freed, go forth and barbeque this joint.

At some point, sometime pretty soon he reckoned, he’d have to tend to his broken leg in a quiet out-of-the-way place or else actually escape, which may or may not entail some running, which may be even less of a possibility later as it was now.

The door opened an inch and Ori paused, listening for sounds and stilling his breath before opening wide enough to peak out beyond.

LAVA.

Ori’s face was scorched off by a draft of intense heat. Superheated air rich with the flavours of a volcano's interior filtered through the gap. It took an eye-watering moment to adjust, but Ori eventually crawled into the space beyond the door. Outside, was a vertical cave beyond the cliff edge of the terrace he rested upon. Less than a hundred feet away, a thin waterfall of lava painted the cavernous hall that extended hundreds of feet above and below with grim reds and orange light. The rock seemed to be rough, though deliberately hewn, with support pillars intermittently bracing terraces into the dark space above. There was no sky, no stars or clouds, just the certainty that he was miles underground.

Distant pools of liquid rock overflowed to form more lava falls that added to the ‘Devil’s version of St Paul's’ vibe. In fact, the only thing that seemed to clash with the aesthetic was the… blue lava? As Ori tried to make sense of it all, he saw one such stream of glow-stick blue fluid running several hundreds of feet below, emerging from a location unseen from his current viewpoint. The foot-wide stream of intense, blue, viscous liquid seemed to melt whatever rock it ran upon and flow like liquid mercury before disappearing off sheer cliffs into an unfathomable abyss.

Ori’s mind was split into three parts upon witnessing the sight, one part of him was awed by seeing something so vast he had the total certainty no human eyes had ever laid on it and returned to tell the tale. The second part was quietly acknowledging the fact he was well and truly fucked, and the last part was trying to decide if demons would burn in the lava if for instance, some enterprising escapee gave them a good shove. The more his aches and pains settled in and memories of just how thoroughly and unreasonably he’d been abused over the last few hours played over in his mind, the more appealing ideas of demon murdering seemed to become.

They were strong, fast, had strange powers, and things like that poison that could kill instantly. They could be beaten though, he had already killed two, and in both instances, the demon's hubris and their absolute faith in their superiority had allowed him to do so. If he were to make it out of this alive or even just kill a handful more, Ori had to find ways to exploit this.

While not normally a particularly murderous person, thoughts of revenge alongside his outrage and fury did their best to postpone PTSD and distract Ori from the perilous ledge he clung to.

At one juncture, lava falls had carved away a section of ledge leaving behind a metre-and-a-half gap Ori had to leap. Landing forcefully upon both a broken leg and shoulder had caused him to nearly black out before retching due to the pain.

By the time he had reached the nearest corridor, he was a sweat-covered, delirious mess close to total exhaustion. Thankfully, the hall had been scarcely guarded. While demons had appeared in the upper levels hundreds of metres away, by hiding in crevices and shadowed cavities in the wall, Ori had managed to use the predominantly red light to blend in.

Opening the corridor door with the same key that opened his own, Ori limped into the cool cave-like passage after patiently checking for sound and a reaction to the rusty hinge. Inside, there were more cells than his former prison corridor, though most held only a set of old bones, chains or things that might have been either. It soon became clear after seeing the skeleton of something that must have been a one-eyed giant, that just like there were demons, other creatures great and small now needed to be considered in his rapidly expanding worldview.

He came to the end of the corridor and there was another wooden door locked by a bolt far bigger than the entrances. Ori, using common sense, tried the biggest key and was rewarded with a gratifying, though unwanted thunk that seemed to echo throughout the passage and all the cells connected to it. Ten rapid heartbeats passed by in silence as he waited for a response. Feeling like the coast was clear, he gingerly opened the wooden door to find that it led to a small cavern. Fine chains dangled from the wall more akin to the type you’d find on jewellery, these all seemed to bind a firefly-like… something, that glowed prismatic blues, greens and purples, to a small stone plinth.

He edged closer to the plinth and the thumb-sized glowstick became brighter while becoming harder to define. As he neared the base of the plinth, he saw a small keyhole for a key he was certain he didn’t have. There was the question of whether he should free this glowing… thing. After consideration that was summarised by a brief risk assessment and the thought; ‘ahhhh… fuck it,’ Ori then switched his attention towards, the how. First Ori tried lock picking using the steel pin of his belt’s buckle to poke and prod at the lock pins, with plans B and C involving ripping and smashing shit up respectively.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

In the end, his lock picking was far more successful than Ori feared it might be, as while none of the locks he had encountered so far were especially sophisticated, and Ori had once made a hobby out of picking locks during one of many wasted summers in his youth, the fact remained that the buckles prong was a far cry from the paper clips and pins he was used to. As the last pin was raised, the chains connecting the ball of light snapped to slide and fall away from the plinth or dangle freely from the ceiling. Oddly, the glowing creature, which seemed to be more butterfly or dragonfly, dimmed considerably, as if this was its rest state.

Ori stared into space as he absently fumbled at reattaching his belt. He tried not to feel put out by the fact that after hours of searching and dozens of empty cells, the first and only prisoner released so far happened to be a glowing bug. Even thoughts of viciously murdering demons failed to lift the gloom from the exhaustion and hopelessness he was feeling, and so he sat, resting his back on the plinth, allowing the velvety darkness of sleep to smother all pains, thoughts and fears.

Ori woke with a jolt. Something bright and tiny sat on his nose causing his head to reflexively jerk and smash the plinth he had rested on. It zoomed off like a fly, far too nimble for his reactions. Unlike a fly, however, Ori tracked its deliberate path in a loop around his head and the plinth behind him. It slowed, flying to a spot too close for his eyes to focus on and settled once more on his nose.

‘Who are you and why did you unbind me?‘ The air hummed with sound as if the voice came from the cavernous room itself instead of the glowing blur in front of him. Except it wasn’t grand, nor one that conjured impressions of awe as befitting the effect of an omnipresent voice. Instead, it sounded small, clipped, and almost broken.

Ori swallowed painfully, mouth dry and jaw pulsing in time with his headache as he prepared to speak.

“Hi, I’m Ori. Lil' glow bug, ’don’t suppose you ain't one of dem mad wizards, are you? I could really use some help about now.” Ori said, voice breaking as he felt his eyes water and tears fall. “I just want to go home, hell, even just some water if you know where to find some.” He wiped his face, careful to avoid the glowing spot on his nose, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions unexpectedly bearing down on him. “Can't believe I'm askin' a glowing butterfly for help, but if them locked you up too… don’t know what they were doing to you before they chained you up, but you can fly and you're pretty small and can hide and stuff, so if you want, I’m sure you can get out of here on your own. But if there’s anything you can do to help me before you go, I'd be properly grateful…”

“Freya.”

Ori blinked as if clearing the rest of his tears would allow him to understand the small, clipped voice that sounded in the air around him.

“Wu-what?”

“I’m Freya, I’m a Sprite, not a butterfly or glow-bug.”

“Oh.”

The drafty silence was broken by heavy breathing and a throat that seemed to have long since run out of saliva to swallow.

“Well,” he croaked. ‘Like I said before, I’m Ori. It's nice to meet you.” Ori continued uncertainly.

“I’m using a spell to make sounds in the surrounding air, but I’m too damaged to talk like this for long.” There was a pause as Ori waited for Freya to continue. “Why did you unbind me?”

“Like I said, I’m looking for help, reckoned I could free some people, then maybe we could organise and break out of this hell together,” Ori said, after a long silence, he spoke for several more minutes describing everything that had happened to him since meeting Mel. He was surprised to feel like a deflated balloon when he had finished, exhausted, but strangely lighter after finding someone who could listen. As he came to the end of his tale, he asked, “So, by the fact that you’re still listening, you're considering helping me?”

“I’m not a powerful wizard, I’m quite weak actually. And… I’m not sure we can escape this place. But… I do know many rituals that could help, such as Healing Sleep, or a Familiar Contract. Do you know what that is?”

“Which?” The family contract?”

“Familiar Contract.”

“I’m… not sure, it’s to do with magic, isn’t it? Like a witch's cat or something?”

“Or something.” Freya agreed with a resigned sigh. “I can not go into the details as I would need my remaining Mana to complete the ritual, put simply, As your familiar, a piece of our souls will be intertwined allowing us a sharing of Mana and access to each other's Spell Constellations which in theory should crystalise your Mana Nexus. Through the very same bond, I shall impart upon you all the knowledge I have ever memorised, my rote knowledge which as an arcane researcher upon the boundary of Journeyman and High, is considerable, and through the same soul bond, we shall be able to communicate mind to mind, freeing me from using this Mana intensive spell to talk to you.

“In exchange, as you are a mortal with no access to the Library of Fates, no spells and likely little else you could offer me otherwise, I will take a full share of all your Peritia until either I evolve or one of us dies. Also, should you happen to be infernal, this ritual will backfire, killing us both. Do you accept?”

Ori swallowed hard, from his perspective, if what she said she could offer was accurate, he would gain… something, spells? The knowledge seemed interesting, but what was this about Peritia, and dying due to the spell backfiring seemed like too big a risk.”

“Wait… Infernal?? Is that what those demons are? And what’s Peritia? And Evolve??”

“Peritia is the archaic word for experience, it is one of the primary paracausal energies of Fate, and it’s how the Library awards growth. You can’t use it until you Awaken, and I need Peritia to heal myself and evolve. Infernals are the demons and the ones who make deals with them. Now please, what is your answer?”

While he was concerned about the idea of spell backlash, Ori didn’t believe he had agreed to any infernal deals since this all began, let alone any with the ones who had brought him here. He had many questions but in the end, it all came down to survival. It seemed like he would be no worse off with Freya’s help than he would be without and so, he agreed.

“Do it.”