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Sitting cross-legged by the waterfall, I took a deep breath, letting the peaceful rhythm of water cascading down rock walls soothe my nerves. The sensation of the cool air, the soft padding of leather against my skin, and the gentle weight of my new armor made me feel a strange sort of peace. After so long, it felt like I was finally clothed, sheltered against the world. The quiet satisfaction seeped into my bones.
“Let’s see if I find anything useful in the booty I gained “
I glanced down at the small trove of items I’d collected, spread out on the ground before me. There wasn’t much, but each piece held potential–a backpack filled with all the things the late elf had carried, a leather bundle with bone and other small keepsakes, and two long, curved knives.
Not exactly a bounty of treasures, but in a place like this, even the smallest advantage felt like gold. The blades were well-balanced but disappointingly plain–no engravings, or enhancements, just clean, functional steel. I shrugged. They might lack enchantments, but I wasn’t complaining.
Sighing, I reached for the backpack, turning it over in my hands to take in its details. The design surprised me. It was modern, almost strangely so, with a decent locking strap mechanism that held it closed. As I flipped open the strap and unbuckled the front flap, I couldn’t help but feel a slight excitement at the idea of discovering something useful or maybe even…familiar.
I checked the main compartment, but before diving in, I noticed two smaller pockets at the front. Starting with the first, I unbuttoned it and reached inside, my fingers grazing something thin and papery.
Curious, I pulled out what seemed like a parchment. It had a few words scrawled across it in a language that looked entirely alien to me. I tilted it in the faint light, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar script, but nothing clicked.
Behind the parchment were a few photos, worn but still intact. Holding them up close, I leaned back and let the mossy light ball I’d conjured illuminate them better. The first picture made me pause. The late elf, the one I’d found slumped and lifeless, was captured here in a far more joyful moment. He stood with two other elves, all three of them in casual clothing and laughing, holding what looked like beer mugs. Their faces were bright with happiness, almost radiating warmth through the faded image. I couldn’t help but smile at the picture, despite the pang of regret I felt. These people had a life once, friendships, laughter…
My eyes fell to the next photo, and I blinked in surprise. A woman, also an elf, her beauty was undeniable, even in the dim cave light. Her blonde hair framed an elegantly angled face, and her emerald eyes glinted with life, mischief even, as she looked at the camera. I could feel my face heating up, realizing I was staring a little too hard.
"Bro, don’t go making eyes at your savior’s possible girlfriend," I muttered, shaking my head. But her presence was striking, and I had to admit.
Finally, I picked up the last photo, and my face morphed into a frown as I studied it. The same elf as the one I’d found dead, alongside the blonde elf, but now he was in hunting gear, his expression focused and intense. He stood in the foreground, and behind him loomed a colossal, shadowy structure–a towering black pillar that seemed to reach for the sky, visible even at what looked like a great distance. I squinted at the photo, feeling a cold shiver pass through me.
The pillar wasn’t familiar; none of my memories held any trace of a monument like this. And judging by its scale, there’s no way I’d forget something so enormous.
Just the sight of it sent a jolt of unease through me.
I tried to ignore the frantic questions bubbling up, but the more I thought about it, the more the picture began to feel like a lead weight in my hand. A pillar of black that is tall… what did it mean?
My breathing quickened as panic started to edge in, the vague thought of something missing, something I should know, whispering at the back of my mind. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deeply, counting the seconds until the feeling began to ease. The chill of my earring returned, its familiar cooling sensation brushing across my mind like a calm hand on a restless shoulder. It brought me back from the edge, steadying my thoughts. Another possible memory gap. But panicking wouldn’t fill it in any faster.
I put the photos back inside the parchment and returned them to the pocket, letting out a sigh. All this place had shown me so far were memories I couldn’t fully trust and glimpses of truths that made my head spin. I leaned back against the cold stone, pressing my head back and focusing on the simple rise and fall of my breath, letting the last traces of panic ebb away into the cavern’s chill.
The noise of the waterfall grew steady again, that soft, endless rhythm grounding me as I looked over the items once more.
I reached into the other pocket, hoping for something useful, maybe even a clue. My hand closed around a small leather pouch, the edges soft and worn from years of use. I carefully pulled it out, noting how it was rolled up tight, and began to unfurl it. As the layers came undone, my nose caught a faint, salty aroma that made my stomach grumble in anticipation.
Meat. Dried, salted strips of meat. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face; it had been so long since I’d tasted anything that remotely resembled actual food.
“Ohh thank the lords, also weren't elves supposed to be vegetarians” I muttered, my voice low and a little teasing, as if the elf’s spirit could still hear me.
Without hesitation, I grabbed one of the jerky strips, eyeing it briefly before bringing it to my mouth. It was thin but substantial, preserved just enough to keep its texture and flavor intact. As my teeth sank in, I was hit with a wave of saltiness, sharp and comforting all at once. The taste of salt felt like a rare treat. Somehow, even with the slightly leathery texture, the meat was juicy, bursting with flavor as I chewed.
I hadn’t even realized how much I missed that taste–the way food, real food, could make you feel alive in ways that stale bread or dried roots never could.
"Mhm," I mumbled, savoring the first strip longer than I probably needed to. The salt had softened the toughness of the meat, making it oddly tender despite its dried state. The tangy, preserved flavor lingered on my tongue, filling me with a strange kind of gratitude for this small comfort. It wasn’t a feast, but it was nourishment, real nourishment. I felt almost… normal, just sitting here eating in the quiet of the cavern, letting the flavor settle into my bones.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
After a few moments of savoring, I reached for another piece, then another. By the time I was done, I had devoured three strips, feeling my energy slowly creeping back to life with each bite. It was hard to resist eating more–the flavor was so tempting, the salt still dancing on my tongue, but I forced myself to pause.
There was a surprising number of strips, around forty-seven by my quick count, all neatly rolled and packed. They were meticulously bundled, each piece rolled tightly into itself, probably rationed for journeys or days when hunting didn’t yield results. The late elf had been prepared, and now, I’d have to be smart enough to ration what was left. I couldn’t let hunger or nostalgia take over.
Sighing contentedly, I reached down and grabbed some water, letting it wash down the remnants of salt and jerky that still clung to my mouth. The coolness of it felt refreshing against the salt, and I took a deep breath, feeling the odd comfort of a satisfied stomach, a feeling I’d forgotten I could have.
Sitting here, leaning back with the echo of the waterfall murmuring nearby, I felt almost like I was in some hidden oasis, a reprieve from everything, just for a while.
As I rummaged through the pouch again, my fingers brushed against something else–three small bundles, tied tightly with a simple knot. Curiosity piqued, I pulled one of them out and carefully undid the thread, revealing a few small white grains in my palm. Salt. I let out a small laugh, Salt was more than just a spice; it was survival, preservation, and comfort.
And somehow, this late elf had been carrying a few small bundles, each preserved like a tiny treasure. I knew I’d need to use it sparingly, but it was more than welcome. I quickly checked the other bundles and grinned when I found one of them held something red, powdery, and when I tasted it, it burned with a slight kick. Spice, simple but potent. How long had it been since I’d tasted something spicy?
Setting the pouch aside, I rolled up each bundle carefully, retying the threads and stashing them safely back in the pocket.
“He dived into the cave prepared for exploration and I’m sure he was not alone, a party judging by the gear” , feeling an odd kind of respect for the elf.
With the pouch securely back in its pocket, I closed the button, running my fingers over it to ensure it was tightly fastened.
After sifting through the front pockets, I turned my attention to the main compartment of the bag, tugging it open with cautious excitement.
The first thing that met my gaze was a diary, feeling the cover was leather-hard leather.
It was thicker than I'd expected, its cover smooth and polished yet sturdy. The pages seemed white in the dim light,it was too tempting me to just scribble on them. It had a simple locking mechanism on the side, keeping it neatly closed.
A ribbon attached to the diary served as both a bookmark and a holder for a small dark colored pen. Setting the pen aside for now, I flipped through the pages. The first ten to fifteen were filled with dense handwriting in some foreign language.
Here and there, I noticed small illustrations—sketches, perhaps, of plants or symbols but nothing sparked any of my memories.
As I flipped through, a few loose pieces of paper slipped from between the pages, and I carefully unfolded them. They looked like documents, with unfamiliar stamps and signatures. Both of them bore the same inked emblem – a mountain-like design etched in thick, black lines. I squinted, hoping the image might trigger something, but nothing surfaced. Sighing, I set the documents aside and focused back on the pen. It was sleek, capped tightly at the top, and when I removed the cap, I saw it had a fountain design.
well I see why not…
Not being able to keep my curiosity at bay, I scribbled in the back of the diary, and felt oddly satisfied seeing the ink flow smoothly across the paper.
Haha that was refreshing…look at my abstract masterpiece.
Laughing at my antics, I kept the diary aside and pulled out a metal canteen. Its weight was a surprise, considering it sounded empty when I shook it. Maybe it was made from some unusually strong material to avoid leaks, a sturdiness that felt reassuring.
I placed it next to the diary and continued my rummaging, feeling around the inside of the bag. There was a smaller, chained pocket sewn into the bag, hidden from casual sight. I fumbled with the clasp before finally pulling it open.
Inside, I found a small metal cylinder, just five or six inches long, with something sloshing softly inside when I shook it.
“What could this be?” I murmured, examining the cylinder closely. One twist of the cap later, a rich earthy smell hit my nose. The liquid that oozed from the cylinder was dark and thick—ink. I capped it quickly, a little giddy with the thought of having real ink on hand.
“Great now I have both ink and paper, I will write a rising star novel”
Shaking my head and laughing at the silly antics I was doing,
I pulled out a slim, metal card next, about the size of a credit card, with a faint dragon-like logo engraved on its surface. Some words were etched below the dragon in the same foreign language as the diary.
When I attempted to examine it using Exira, I felt an unexpected sensation – a faint pulse like a heartbeat, tugging at my senses. It seemed to point me in a particular direction, as if guiding me.
“Well, I guess that sorts out which way I’m going,” I muttered, amused but relieved to have some kind of lead, however odd it was.
The last item I pulled out looked like another cylinder, though it was longer and much more industrial in appearance than the ink container. On one side, it had a small, circular white stone embedded in the metal. It had a hand grip carved along its side, and the opposite end was sealed shut.
“Interesting…” I murmured, running my fingers over the cool metal. I was about to put it aside when a thought struck me. Maybe it was enchanted? Using Exira, I focused on the item, noticing a soft flow of energy centered on the stone.
I turned it over in my hands, fiddling with the design, until, quite unexpectedly, a brilliant light shot out, blinding me as it illuminated the entire cavern. My heart leaped into my throat as my vision whited out, the sudden brightness right up against my eyes.
“Arg! fuck!” I yelped, dropping the cylinder as my head jerked backwards strongly hitting the cave walls. Spots danced across my vision, half-cursing, half-laughing as I tried to shake off the blinding light.
“Of course—of course it’s a damn torch!” I said, laughing at my own idiocy as I rubbed at my eyes with one hand and head with another.
“Of all the ways to find out…fuck that hurts”
It took a moment for my vision to clear, and when it did, I found myself chuckling at the absurdity of the moment. I hadn’t felt such a ridiculous kind of shock in quite some time.
Looking at the damn torch it looked and felt durable and long-lasting. I flipped it off, letting the darkness fold back in around me as my eyes adjusted.
The cave was fully lit, all the colors and details were fully visible, best of all the brightness was just right.
“Well,” I muttered, grinning to myself as I had a ridiculous thought running upto the monsters and blinding them while screaming,
“Let there be Light!”
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