Chapter 14: Still as Stone

"Everything is caving in."​

You sleep soundly— until Ray's growling infringes on the edges of your mind. You hesitantly attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes.

A smile crosses your features, as your arms and legs feel better than they have in ages. The pain has abated in your stomach and throat— and there is no pressure to speak of in your head. Blearily looking around the cavern reveals no spiders.

A lantern's light passes right over you. The leafy green in your irises flickers in the light as you throw up a hand to shield yourself. Though your fingers are trembling, a sober and quiet voice leaves you. "Stop—"

Ofelia lowers the hood of her lantern further. "Sorry. Ya' scared the shit outta me." Ray is right next to her. They're both looking worse for the wear, their hair is matted, and your dog's scars have darkened— but they both have no sign of a recent fight on them. "Hey, Gwen! He's up—"

"Not now, Ofelia." Standing a fair ways behind the halfling is a sorceress, and her small cluster of stars. She's gathering them together in almost absolute darkness.

Though you just managed to get up, your attention is entirely on Ray. He's visibly upset by something. The remaining sleep falls off of you as you kneel down beside him. He immediately begins licking you, and pushing against your hands to get your attention. "Hey. Ray. It's alright. It's okay, boy. It's good to see you, too. Show me." Whining anxiously, he sticks his nose into your hands. Growling ensues as he points to the walls, ceiling, and floor. With a reassuring pat on his side, you turn to Ofelia. "What is going on...?"

The worry in her voice is unmistakable. "You slept for a few days, Richard. Might as well have been dead, but Gwen told me to leave ya alone. We're low on supplies. The monsters just left. Your dog seemed to be pretty upset. He's been pretty well behaved 'til now. Just diggin' while you were asleep. Not gonna lie— it was weirdin' me out." You look down to your boy with no small measure of concern. He hasn't been this upset since your encounter with the demon of mouths. "Are you okay? I was scared that the whiskey had gone bad or somethin'. Never seen a guy sleep like that before. It's been four days."

The pallor on your face worsens. "I— I probably pushed myself too far. Praying to Spirit alone takes a lot out of me— but I went far beyond that. Thank you for watching over me—"

As you move to stand, Ofelia practically pushes you down to the floor. A ration is shoved into your hands. "It's the last of the food. Make it count. We need to start moving."

Your wide eyes dart from the abrupt way you're being held down, and back up to Ofelia. "You said Celegwen was able to make water for you both. Is she...?"

"Nothin. Not for days." The blonde's curls are so matted, they barely bob as she shakes her head. "She's startin' to get the hang of it again, but she says it's goin' to be slow."

Celegwen's voice shines out. A collection of light coalesces into her hands. "Aha! I've got it—!" Ofelia eagerly darts away to see the discovery. It's the least you can do to painfully wolf half the ration down. Getting the pain over with as quickly as possible, you use a spare hand to lead Ray with you to see what the fuss is about. "I've got it." A swirl of light and darkness is held aloft in the spellcaster's fingertips. She dances the mass over and around her hands.

Happy for a distraction from the pain, you choke out, "what is it?"

"Dissipation. I've been meaning to clear these webs for days."

"You don't mean—" Ofelia deflates, and eyes the food you're choking down with extreme regret.

"I wouldn't waste our time on something so mundane, Ofelia. We can scavenge once we get out of here. Father Anscham's barricade is far too sturdy for me to have removed— but the webs!" She practically skips away from you both. Looking into the caverns beyond, a strand of starlight is pulled from her hands. The sorceress drags it over one of the many webs. As the shadow passes over each web, it vanishes. The elf grins ear-to-ear. "I can make quick work of them. It is good to see that you're awake, Father. Let us continue with the expedition."

You nod your head, entirely unsure of what to make of all of this. The rest of the ration gets choked down, and you scramble to get some water from your flask as you gather your things. There's only a mouthful left. Ofelia gives you an apologetic look, seeing how much you're suffering. "We'll find more. Come on."

The sight of her over-sized backpack gives you pause. You hadn't even noticed it before due to all that has happened. With a shake of your head, you take your bloodied mace and shield, and sling your own (featherweight) pack over your shoulders. Kneeling down to Ray, you murmur, "it's okay, boy. We'll be alright." You're never one to disregard his complaints, and prompt him again with a gesture. "Show me."

Unable to pinpoint the exact source of the issue has Ray beside himself. Celegwen speaks up on his behalf. "The spiders went into the walls. I suspect they wished to take advantage of your rest, Father. It is a good thing that you awoke— though they do sound further away now."

"Keep your guard up." Keeping your mace in shield in hand has you almost feeling like yourself again. The sleep was sorely needed, but needling insecurity is still at the edges of your mind. You pat Ray on his side, repeating yourself in an effort to reassure him. "We'll be alright, boy. Come on."

As Ofelia raises the hood on her lantern and illuminates the corridors beyond, Celegwen pauses in her work to remove the webs. The elf notes, "I suspect that the broader path here will be the shortest route to our destination. However— this light up ahead is curious. That passage is nearly the same color as your eyes, Father. That green one there." You cough profusely, and hope that the women chalk it up to the ration. The sorceress waves her staff to the left and right. Numerous, narrow openings can be seen leading down and out from the cavern. "These are clearly used by the spiders to navigate within the ruins rapidly. I suspect that many of these paths will be a shorter route to our destination."

Ofelia seems utterly perplexed. "I don't trust that light, but I don't particularly want to waste our time either. You got any tricks up your sleeve, Richard?"

"Give me just a moment." Bowing your head, you take your holy symbol between your fingers. With a soft and clear voice, you pay no heed to Celegwen's or Ofelia's scrutiny as you pray.

"Mercy. The Father is basked in twilight. I seek your illumination. Raise Your dawn over this demon's shadow. Reveal my enemies— that I may cast them from this world. Expose their corruption— that I might strike down those who would oppose you. Clear my eyes! Guide me— so that I may not stray from Your immaculacy!"

Heat rushes through your holy symbol. A golden light flares from your eyes, hands, and mace. It pierces the darkness, and illuminates all the caverns beyond.

The impossibly complex labyrinth is packed with spiders. Ray's anxiety is painfully clear to you now. Every nook and cranny is positively lined with hungering demons. Before doing anything else, you kneel down— placing your holy symbol around your neck once more— and wrap an arm around your dog. "It's okay, boy. We're going to get out of here."

Mercy doesn't want to tax you. Her warmth, tenderness, and light fades as soon as it came.

In the absence of Her blessing, darkness completely shrouds your enemies from sight. Respect for the Goddess and for your own safety has you speak out as firmly as you can. "We need to move quickly. Malimos' spiders are everywhere. I suspect that they won't hold back for much longer." Your eyes dart to the darkest path. "Let's move. If you suspect this way will be the fastest, Celegwen— then let's take it. How much light do you have, Ofelia?"

"No more than 6 hours. If we can find oil— or you got any miracles up your sleeve— we can go longer. That's all I got, though. What about you? That light woulda' been damn useful."

You frown. "I have a few torches left. Mercy's blessing is a gift, Ofelia— not something to be squandered when we have resources to spare."

"Fine, fine."

Celegwen makes quick work of clearing a path to the broad and darkened passage. The elf has refastened a large volume of daggers to her body, has her sword in its sheath, and continues carrying her staff. The spell within her hands is dismissed— and hangs back. "One of you should go first."

You pause. Caution is prudent— but you want to protect your friends, more than anything.

"Ofelia, do they really call you 'Eagle-Eye' back in Spira?"

You've never seen a smugger expression in all your life. "Pfffsh, Richard, please. Of course! No one's got keener eyes than me."

"Alright. Keep them out for trouble, then. Can you still see alright with the lantern lowered?"

"Yep. Not as well, but this'll get the job done." She lowers the shutter and swings the dimmer light around towards the dark passage ahead.

​

Gently patting Ray's side, you usher him to follow you. "Let's get going, then."

A long pause hangs between you all. You politely nod towards Ofelia, and to the corridor beyond. "Lead the way."

Your point-woman snorts, and laughs lightly to herself. "That's what I thought! Come on. Don't follow too close, 'kay?"

One more nod is given to her, along with an additional command to Ray before you proceed. "Slow, boy. Come."

Music

You all walk for what feels like hours. It's slow going, as Ofelia stops every few feet at the smallest outcropping or spiderweb. The rogue not only keeps a close eye on your path, but also keeps watch on the oil.

Her and Celegwen remain utterly silent as the decline increases rapidly. You're relieved to not be running (for once), and for the darkness that rapidly covers you all. Even Celegwen's slight shadow was concealing yours.

Drawing your arms around your horrifically thinner frame brings little relief. By the time that the third hour has elapsed, you're sweating and trembling. So much rest has your body feeling substantially better, but you're more easily strained now than ever. It's further incentive to keep your eyes forward, and to do nothing more than think.

Small talk would be inappropriate. Smiling is fine. If what you can remember of recent peat and smoky stories shared in the night— you've talked quite enough already.

Another hour slips by, before Ofelia hugs the wall. "Damn floor's all busted. Watch yer step. Seriously."

This is nothing compared to the narrow passages you've squeezed through before. You lead Ray on with a little difficulty, and try to scrutinize the stone floor ahead. By all appearances, it seems to be ordinary. You follow Ofelia's haphazard lead as she inches around narrower and narrower footholds. There's some unseen danger she's stopping for, inspecting, and testing. The complex pattern is almost dizzying, but there's not a single moment where you all backtrack or encounter any hindrance to your plodding march.

The procession stops after another half hour. Ofelia's voice is as somber as you've ever heard it. "Stop."

"Stop, Ray." He pauses by your side, panting.

Ofelia whips around to glance between you and Celegwen. Her face betrays her alarm. "There's almost nothin' in the floor up ahead. I could probably walk safely on it— maybe you too, Richard— but not both of us at once. And Gwen, you and the dog will collapse it for sure." You cringe, and cross your arms in an attempt to hide your shallow waist. "No offense. I'm just tellin' it like it is. More importantly, there's no safe route across. I can see a bit through the cracks. The lantern's been leakin' light down somewhere deep— very, very deep. This bit of path probably comes out somewhere deeper still. No tellin' how far down this place goes, I guess. But I'd rather not find out."

It's impossible to make out what she's describing. Darkness engulfs either side of the corridor, and steals away the lantern's light. Pulling back on her hood for a moment, Ofelia runs a hand through her hair. It's slick with sweat. "Gwen? Y'got anythin'?"

"I could potentially dissipate some of my weight— but it would be terribly dangerous to do so all at once. I fear for how it would affect the dog, as well—"

You interrupt, bothered. "His name is Ray." It's trivial, but Ray deserves more respect than anyone else you know. The least they can do is refer to him by his name.

"Of course, Father. Ray would likely be harmed or upset by the process. I could attempt to remove the trap, as well. Is there a mechanism that I could possibly...?"

"Nope." Ofelia explains, "no mechanisms, no levers, no pressure plates. Not exactly man made— at least I don't think. The floor's been hollowed out or worn away 'til almost nothin's left." She mutters, "probably not an issue for those damn spiders, but a big issue for us." Her voice lifts as she throws her hood up, and turns her back to you all. "Stay put. I'm gonna scout ahead a bit."

You nod your head, trusting her eyes far more than yours. The rogue sets the lantern on the floor beside you, and seemingly vanishes.

After a few moments pass by— staring uselessly into the darkness ahead— you hazard a glance to Celegwen.

She seems utterly unfazed by the exertion of the descent. Her silver hair and fair skin is immaculate, as she stares off into distance. "She'll be back. Don't worry."

Several minutes pass with only the faint crackle of the lantern for company. Its flame licks and burns away as a constant reminder of your waning resources.

Ofelia's shadow rapidly approaches as she returns. Throwing her cloak back, her face is aglow with enthusiasm, and her whisper is almost a conversational tone. "It opens up just further ahead. You won't believe it! This is a way shorter route, Gwen! Would have saved us a lot of time."

"Good." The elf returns the excited whisper. "How far do we have to cross?"

"It's about as long as a church—" She wiggles her eyebrows at you. "—is tall. The rope won't make it."

Celegwen stares dead ahead. "Any breaks in the floor?"

"Was sturdy enough to hold me the whole way. I took my time. Richard would definitely be fine, but there's no way your butt's makin' it across. And definitely not Ray's, either."

The last venture you had with climbing drops your voice to a murmur. "What is up ahead?"

"Trash. A lot of it."

"Trash?" You repeat, unsure if she means it literally.

"Yeah. Big old pieces of old buildings, metal, some stuff I didn't recognize. Far as I could see, almost. There's definitely some shelter out there. Could be hidin' trouble. There's some proper— still standin'— buildin's mixed in with all the trash. I recognized one of 'em. Was past a big ol bridge."

You dare to hope. "The library...?"

"Yeah. We're gettin' closer."

A long silence hangs between you all. You suspect that your new friends have absolutely no idea of what you're capable of— or that they simply don't want to ask.

Ray's whining finally calms down as everyone mulls over how to proceed. You pat him on the head, and hazard a question to Celegwen. Unfortunately, it comes out as more of an awkward joke than the genuine question you intended it to be. "Celegwen, you couldn't levitate yourself and Ray over this, could you?"

The elf gives you an unamused look. "No. I don't suppose you could have your Gods undo the decay, hmm?"

Your blood runs cold at the thought.

Now would be a bad time to tell her that I could try.

A more reasonable idea strikes you. "Ofelia. You said there was a good deal of debris further beyond?"

"Right. Watcha' got in mind?"

"I— I can't— I can't really climb. But maybe we can make something for Ray and Celegwen to walk over."

The halfling balks. "There's no way we could stick anythin' in the walls, Richard. They're solid stone— and you know I couldn't lift any of ya' if I tried."

You give her a slight smile. "I'll take care of it. I'll need your help, though."

The look pointed at you is made with infinitely more skepticism than you'd like to see. "I don't want you gettin' hurt."

"I'll be fine—"

The look both women give you stops you in your tracks. Ofelia in particular looks deeply concerned. "You've been pushin' yourself real hard. You're scarin' me a little." The amount of worry in her tone is downright distressing. "You're not lookin' so great, Richard. Maybe there's somethin' we can do that doesn't mean ya have to lose anythin' else? And I don't just mean yer weight, either."

An unsightly blend of indignation and guilt roils in you.

Is she seriously questioning my use of prayer?

"You have a point. I know you're just concerned." Holding your arms even more tightly around yourself, you try to get a feeling for just how little you have left to lose. It's terribly awkward even crossing your arms. Your waist is so slender that there's hardly anything to hold onto. Between the knotted scar in your side and your harshly protruding ribs, it doesn't feel like much. "I'm concerned, too. There's not much left of me to take. I know that Flesh wants me to take better care of myself—"

Celegwen interjects, "what do you want, Father?"

You hold onto yourself even more tightly. A frown etches itself into your face. A long moment passes before you deflect, "do you two have any better suggestions?"

Ofelia shrugs, still sounding disgruntled. "Your idea sounded fine, Richard. I just don't want you disappearin' on us."

"It's far from fine." Celegwen huffs. "We clearly have no idea how much this Goddess of yours will take from you— and we have no way to get your strength back without resorting to even more desperate measures."

"Agriculture normally doesn't take this much out of me. I'll be alright." Celegwen's eyes are practically drilling into you. "Really," you insist, recoiling at the stare. "I wouldn't still be here if that was all it took."

Silence hangs in the air.

Ray nuzzles up next to you. He's clearly antsy. You scratch him behind his ears, relieved to not have to explain yourself to someone. Still, you force yourself to elaborate. "I— I really appreciate the concern— but we need to get out of here." It's difficult, but you manage to glance to the halfling and elf. "Can I depend on both of you?"

Ofelia perks right back up. "Course you can."

"Yes." Celegwen speaks softly. "You likely won't need to move more than a few pieces of debris to get Ray and I across, Father. If Ofelia can help you scavenge, I believe we will not need to construct any permanent structures. That should not take too much out of you— no?"

"No. That should be fine."

With a nod to you over her shoulder, Ofelia sets off. "Give me a minute to get ahead. You'll want to leave your stuff, too. You're already pushing it."

She vanishes from sight. Kneeling down next to Ray, you put the mastiff's nose in your hands and command his full attention. "Stay, boy. I'll be right back. Take good care of Celegwen."

With a few licks on the sides of your hands, he's all business. You take off what you thought was your terribly light equipment— your nearly empty pack, the mace and shield— and set them all beside Ray. "I'll be right back." You repeat, patting him on the head again.

"We'll wait." Celegwen reassures you, leaning slightly against her staff as she waves you along. "Ray will take care of me, won't he?"

You look wistfully over your shoulder as you turn away, before properly setting off after Ofelia. The low light of her lantern barely illuminates the stone floor and walls ahead. It's soon completely out of sight. You're forced to completely trust in her guidance— before long, you can't even see your hands in front of your face. You don't dare to reach out further to feel for the walls. Worried of setting off some other hazard, you're terribly grateful for how few strides it takes you to reach the end of the corridor. It can't be more than a minute or two before a dull, gray light breaks up ahead.

This doesn't make any sense. This is a straight passage. The light should have been visible far sooner.

​

A few hesitant steps take you from your elevated vantage point, down a steep decline. The cavern opens up into such a large chamber, you could almost mistake the area ahead for a city. Stone buildings reach out into the distance. The decaying structures are dotted with boarded windows, dilapidated doors, and not a soul in sight. Countless mounds of debris are stacked in piles higher than the many homes beyond. Some tower off in the distance. This portion of the ruins must be unbelievably ancient, for how decayed everything appears. The scent of rotting cloth, parchment, metal and gore is heavy in the air.

Ofelia reappears— seemingly out of thin air— and makes your heart skip a beat. You smoothly repress your response, but she seems to have noticed anyways.

"Don't be so glad to see me." She snickers, and leaves her hood up with a gesture for you to follow.

You reluctantly step further out into the gray light. It further illuminates the many stone buildings. They not only protrude from the soft soil of the landscape, but also lean against high, jagged walls. You crane your neck back, trying to see to the tops of the cavern— and to your horror, there's more spider webs. A hollowed out network of countless holes dots the entirety of the ceiling.

"I wasn't too happy to see them, too," Ofelia mutters. "Come on. Time's a wastin'."

You wince at the phrase, but follow Ofelia as she sets to searching through the debris. Her eyes are remarkably keen— it only takes a few moments for her to spot two beams of metal that are the right length for your purposes. One is protruding neatly from a pile of metal, and the another is leaning hard against a nearby building. You frown, as the latter is visibly covered in a thick sludge.

"Come over here for a sec." Ofelia whispers, pulling on the side of your robes and gesturing for you to duck behind a mound of trash. You oblige her. "Figured the wood over here might be too rotten. Stone's no good, can't carry it for shit. This'll have to do." She chucks a small stone at the collection of metal housing the first beam. Nothing happens. Watching intently for any motion, she chucks another stone. There's still no movement whatsoever.

The halfling sighs. "Can't be too careful."

You give her a nod, legitimately appreciating her caution— when something stirs. Rather than from the pile of debris, there's motion off in the distance.

A shadow on the furthest reaches of your vision begins to seep along the floor of the cavern. Whatever it is must be massive.

Ofelia looks at you with abject terror. "Please tell me you can see that."