Lisandra moved through the shadowed tunnels, her heart caught in a delicate balance between caution and curiosity.

The air was thick with the damp scent of earth and stone, mingling with an unshakable sense of dread that twisted at the edges of her mind.

Yet beneath that dread, a thrill coursed through her veins — a euphoria found in the embrace of the unknown, urging her deeper into this new world.

Each step echoed softly against the stone walls, the sound reverberating back like a whispered warning. Her fingers brushed the rough texture of the rock, anchoring her in the present and maintaining her place alongside Merida and Walden.

The cold, gritty surface was a stark reminder of reality, and somewhere far ahead, a dissonant bell tolled. It was a sound that seemed both distant and suffocatingly close, accompanied by the unsettling noises that slithered from the darkness beyond.

Lisandra steadied her breathing, drawing on the technique her father had taught her: quick, shallow breaths followed by a deep inhale, holding it to focus her senses. Her heartbeat slowed, each thud echoing in her ears, sharpening her perception and honing her alertness.

‘I hope they are okay.’ She thought, her mind flickering to her companions. ‘I'm with Merida and Walden. Asdras and Joah should be fine, but the others...’

Asdras came to mind — the boy with obsidian eyes and a crow tattoo etched onto his skin. Her family symbol, seen as a curse by some, marked him in a way that both intrigued and unsettled her.

It was as if seeing a familiar face in a forgotten dream, where the lines between past and present blurred, creating a connection that defied explanation. It wasn't romantic; she had experienced the tiresome attention of suitors before — whether they were eager boys her age or calculating adults seeking alliances through her family name.

But her feelings for Asdras were different. There was a sense of recognition, a feeling akin to remembering a tune you've never heard but somehow know by heart. As she thought of him, a smile tugged at her lips, her family coming to mind.

Gratefulness swelled within her, knowing they never pressured her into unwanted paths. They allowed her the freedom to explore her own identity, supporting her every step of the way.

As they turned the corner, Lisandra and her companions found themselves facing a narrow staircase tunnel that spiraled down. The stone was cold and slick beneath their feet, damp with the creeping moisture that clung to the air.

Above them, a series of round iron cages floated eerily, suspended by chains that anchored into the ceiling like the roots of some dark, twisted tree. The cages swung gently, as if stirred by an unseen breeze, their bars coated in rust.

Inside, the skeletal remains of long-forgotten prisoners lay curled and silent, their bones telling tales of despair and finality.

The air was thick with a stench that lingered like a malevolent presence. It was a smell that seeped into their lungs, a putrid blend of rot and decay that clawed at their throats.

It was as if the very essence of ruin had been distilled into a tangible form, weaving through the air like an unseen specter, wrapping around them with the cold fingers of the grave.

At the base of the staircase, a larger opening revealed itself, leading to what appeared to be an entrance of some kind. However, a disorganized pile of trash and shattered wooden beams were blocking it.

"We'll have to clear this," Merida said, her voice barely rising above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the shadows.

Together, they began to shift the beams, the wood groaning under their efforts as dust and small stones rained down upon them. Lisandra's fingers dug into the rubbish, feeling the grit and grime beneath her nails as she pushed and pulled, her muscles straining with each heave.

With the barricade partially dismantled, they climbed over the remaining obstacle, the wood creaking ominously beneath their weight.

The path was slippery and treacherous, the floor beneath their feet uncertain. Each step felt like a gamble. Yet, with determination etched into their features, they pressed on, one by one, making it to the other side.

"What now?" Merida asked.

"I think we have some big problems." Walden's voice wavered as he surveyed the place, his eyes darting nervously around the chamber.

He swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. "I'm still new to this, but, well, my eyes are trained for hunting, even if I'm still learning. It's too dark here. Way too dark. Those lamps on the walls — they barely light anything up. I can't even figure out how they're still burning."

He paused, extending his hand toward the corner and the ground below. "We're supposed to be above ground, right? But something feels off."

"What do you mean?" Lisandra asked, her curiosity piqued.

Walden continued, "If you really strain your eyes and adjust to the darkness, you can see the floor. There are cracks, and some parts look... empty. I’m trying to say this ground might not hold us. We could fall right through."

"So you're telling us we can't walk there?" Merida asked with a wry grin. "Great, just what we needed — a floor with trust issues. How are we supposed to cross it?"

Walden nodded, his voice uncertain but sincere. "Yeah, we need to find a way across without stepping on that ground. It's risky, and we don't know what’s underneath. Plus, any sound might draw that creature back."

A heavy silence enveloped them, the weight of their predicament pressing down like the dark stones above. Going back wasn't an option; it would mean abandoning their purpose.

The only way was forward. Walden studied the floor and corners, his earlier unease solidifying into certainty about his assessment. Meanwhile, Merida scratched her head, lost in thought, searching for a solution.

Lisandra, however, let her gaze drift upward to the ceiling. The darkness obscured most details, but she caught a metallic glint — a faint shimmer of what looked like an iron pipe running parallel above them. She alternated her gaze between the pipe and the faint bluish glow framing a door on the other side of the room. An idea began to form in her mind, as novel as it was risky.

"I have an idea," Lisandra broke the silence. "Walden, could you estimate the distance between us and that door over there?"

Walden frowned at the request, the prospect of such a task daunting. Nevertheless, he set about it with earnest concentration. Using his fingers and his bow as makeshift guides, he measured the space before him, calculating the distance by the intervals between the lamps along the wall.

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He then crouched, searching the pile of rubbish for a small stone. Finding one, he weighed it in his palm before hurling it toward the door, holding his breath as it arced through the air. The stone clattered near the doorway.

Walden closed his eyes, calculating once more. "Around ten meters," he replied, looking at Lisandra with newfound confidence.

Lisandra didn't dwell on how Walden had come to his conclusion. Instead, she fell into deep thought, adjusting her backpack with determination.

"My idea is to cross it by the ceiling," she announced, a spark of innovation in her eyes.

Merida looked at her strangely, skepticism mixed with intrigue. "How?" she asked, her tone a blend of curiosity and doubt.

"The elastic rope and the hook from our kit," Lisandra explained. "We can use it to throw at the iron pipes in the ceiling, then advance using our hands to get to the other side. To get down, we can use the same strategy: placing the hook in the nearest point of the iron pipe that runs vertically towards the door. What do you guys think?"

"It's risky, but I see your point," Walden replied, glancing up at the ceiling. His voice wavered slightly, still adjusting to the role of a novice hunter. "We just need to make sure those pipes are strong enough to hold our weight."

Merida chuckled, adding a touch of levity to the tense situation. "That's an interesting idea," she said. "A drunkard at the pub once told me, 'It's not the height that gets you; it's the ground trying to give you a kiss.'"

"We can throw it and test it from here, pressing down on the hook to gauge the stability," Lisandra confirmed her idea, nodding thoughtfully. "But we should go one by one to avoid putting too much pressure on the pipes."

"Good idea, Lisandra. I support it. Let's do it," Walden replied, his voice growing steadier with resolve. "I can throw the hook."

Lisandra opened her backpack, rummaging through its contents until she found the rope and hook. She tied a knot, securing the hook tightly while adjusting to the rope's strange elasticity. It was short but stretched impressively, promising the reach they needed.

"Here," Lisandra said, handing the rigged rope to Walden.

Walden studied the hook, feeling its solid, utilitarian design — a metal curve with an opening at one end for strings and ropes, tapering into a sharp point at the other. He felt the tension in the elastic rope, testing its stretch with a measured pull.

Taking a deep breath, Walden began to spin the rope, one hand grasping the end and the other holding a length of rope between his fingers. The centrifugal force increased the rope's stretch, and he eyed the crossing pipes above — a perfect X marking their path forward.

He calculated the angle, trusting his instincts, and released the hook. It sailed through the air, aiming for the intersection of the pipes, but fell short, clattering to the ground. The hook struck a weak point in the floor, cracking it and sending a piece plunging into the void below, validating his analysis.

"Damn, you're right, archer boy," Merida remarked.

Walden tried again, adjusting his stance into a V-shape, with one leg slightly ahead of the other. He hurled the hook with renewed precision, the metal clanging against the pipes with a resounding clash that echoed through the chamber. The hook snagged the intersection, securing itself with a metallic screech.

He tested the rope's stability, pulling down with his full weight. The pipe creaked but held firm, a reassuring tension vibrating through the rope.

"Okay, we can do it," Walden said, a smile breaking through his earlier uncertainty. "For this to work like you said, Lisandra, the first to cross needs to secure the hook on the other side, and the last person will remove this hook and secure the rope while moving across."

"Do you have the same items, Walden?" Lisandra asked, her eyes steady on him.

"No, I don't," Walden admitted, shaking his head.

"Okay... so you'll go first, Merida, since you have the items, and I'll go last," Lisandra said, readying herself as she met Merida's gaze.

"Alright, ladies first," Merida nodded with a playful grin.

Merida took a deep breath, focusing her mind and body on the task ahead. She gripped the rope firmly in her hands, her fingers curling around the rough texture.

Pausing for a moment, she reached into her pack and retrieved her rope and hook. Her movements were deliberate and confident as she attached the rope to the hook with a deft twist, securing it tightly. She slipped a loop of the rope into her mouth, holding it between her teeth as she prepared to climb across the perilous chasm.

Trusting the structure above, she pulled herself up. Her muscles tensed, shoulders bracing against the pull of gravity as she anchored her weight into the iron pipe.

She advanced hand over hand, crossing the pipe's cold metal with a steady rhythm. Her shins crossed in an X shape against the pipe, slightly retracting her lower body to maintain balance and control.

Her eyes remained focused, darting between the pipe and the glow of the door on the other side.

When she reached the intersection, Merida paused, taking a moment to adjust her grip. She carefully positioned her hook and rope in the middle of the X, feeling the weight shift as she prepared for the descent.

Holding a part of the rope with one hand, she took a deep breath, trusting in the contraption she had assembled. The pipe creaked slightly, but she felt free as she released the tension, allowing the hook to support her weight.

Her descent was steady, the physics of her setup working in her favor. The hook caught and held, countering the free fall by distributing the force across the rope, creating a controlled glide downward. The tension of the rope absorbed her momentum, slowing her descent and ensuring a smooth, gentle landing on the solid ground below.

Once safely on the other side, Merida breathed a sigh of relief, her chest rising and falling as the adrenaline faded. She waved towards Lisandra and Walden, a triumphant grin stretching across her face.

"It's good to come over, folks," Merida called out, adding with a wink, "And look, no broken bones — just my usual charm!"

Gripping the rope tightly, Walden hoisted himself up as he began his climb. His focus honed in on the core of his body, each muscle engaging to maintain his balance.

The pipe trembled slightly with his weight, but Walden adjusted his force, shifting his hips and core to keep his trajectory aligned. As he crossed, he kept his eyes on the prize — the solid ground on the other side where Merida waited, ready to lend a hand.

When he reached the descent, Walden repeated the process he had observed from Merida. Using the hook and rope, he controlled his fall with the same methodical precision, landing softly beside her with a look of relief.

Lisandra was next, her mind clear and focused as she took her turn on the ropes. She climbed with a fluid grace. As she reached the pipe's apex, she faced her next challenge: removing the first hook.

With a quick motion, she swung her legs over the pipe, crossing them securely. Her right hand maintained a steady grip while her left worked to unfasten the hook. Pressing her legs firmly against the pipe, she freed her right hand with a swift motion, retracting the rope in one fluid movement and securing the hook in her backpack's shoulder strap.

Satisfied with the hook's placement, she continued her journey across the pipes. The distance melted away as she reached the other side, where Walden and Merida stood ready.

Walden stepped forward, helping to remove the remaining rope. He applied slight pressure downward, then flicked the rope up to dislodge the hook. It took him a minute, his fingers working with careful precision, until the hook came free, clattering softly as he coiled the rope and gave it to Lisandra.

With their crossing complete, they turned their attention to the door ahead, anticipation mingling with a touch of dread as they prepared to face whatever lay beyond.

The door swung open to reveal another stairway, more illuminated than before. Flickering torches lined the walls, casting warm light on the stone steps that spiraled upward. The air was thick with a sense of foreboding, a warning emblazoned in the form of a skull etched into a weathered sign.

Cautiously, they ascended the staircase, each step echoing in the cavernous space. At the top, a closed door awaited, marked with the ominous warning of a creature's skull.

When they opened the door, what they saw within made them freeze.