It was dark. Kai knew that it had always been that way since the very beginning. Just darkness. Though they had eyes, their round silver orbs only served to make the darkness all the more noticeable and unbearable. At first, they were the only ones there. They scrabbled in the dark, clawing at the edges of the pit, not yet knowing that there was no escape.

The first of their kind were pitiful. They knew only of hunger, thirst and fear. They lived in the shallow mud and dirt. They fed on the bodies that were thrown down to them from the top of the pit. Rotting corpses and failed experiments. The corpses were not enough to feed the many mouths that lay at the bottom of the pit.

They had no language, no culture, only a series of short grunts to communicate and a prolonged history of violence where victors ate the defeated.

These, too, were their Ancestors. At the very beginning, there was nothing to be proud of. That was the first memory that all Elders needed to sear into their very souls. The message: At the very beginning we were no better than animals.

Then came the other creatures.

At first it was nothing that the Ancestors could not handle. They did not take them down with tactics or weapons but swarmed over The Beasts With Many Mouths with their bodies. They used their claws and their teeth, they bit into the meat of the beasts raw, dug into their flesh and consumed them from the inside out. For the first time the Ancestors’ hunger was sated and they did not want to ever have to return to hunger ever again.

After a long while the beasts stopped dropping from the top of the pit. But that was fine because the Ancestors had lost enough kin for there to be enough meat to go around. They did not care for each other then. If anything they saw kin as competition at best and emergency food otherwise.

But then the Creators looked down on them from the top of the pit.

“Why are they still alive?” asked the Creator of Darkness.

“They are more tenacious than we suspected. No matter, we can create more creatures this way,” replied the Creator of Monsters.

And create more creatures they did. The Creators of the Ancestors did not view them as anything but fodder for the countless evils they would come to unleash onto the world. But the worst part was not that the Ancestors died and suffered to eat and be eaten in an endless cycle. No, the worst part was the second message: In the beginning we were created evil.

Time passed and the monsters grew stronger and more lethal as the Ancestors did so too in turn. There were times when the Creators would pluck one of their kind from the pit out of the darkness and into the supposed light above. Thus, marked a period when the Ancestors fell even further. Yes, they would come to fall further into evil than rabid animals.

All because they were filled with envy.

Envy, rage, jealousy, disgust, betrayal, sorrow, pain, pride and fear. Somehow in learning and awakening into higher awareness they had devolved into wretched creatures that could only jab bone knives into each other’s throats as they clamoured for the attention of their Creators hoping to be chosen.

It was the trap that the Creators had laid for the Ancestors. If they could not kill them with monsters thrown into the pit, they would kill them with the darkness already in their hearts. The Ancestors broke off into hunters and hunted. Those that were strong hunted the weak and brought them to the center of the pit to sacrifice to their Creators.

Thus, the third message is made clear: Know one’s self.

As creatures thrust into consciousness, they could not know that what they were doing was what led to their suffering in the first place. The more they tried to appease the dark Creators, the more they tormented them and sought to destroy them.

A long, long time passed. They did not measure time by years then, since they knew nothing of the sun. Instead, they measured time by the amount of bones that lined the walls of the pit and by the time they escaped there were enough bones to create hills and valleys in the otherwise flat pit.

But that was the thing. Escape was not possible. There was no way up the sides of the pits. The walls were smooth and did not give any purchase for their claws to take hold. If the Ancestors tried to dig out, they were only met with the bones of those that came before. They were trapped.

Hence the fourth message: Escape does not come from the outside.

The first to realize this was Xiom. “Xi” meaning cursed and “om” meaning crippled, though the true meaning was closer to “easy target” . But Xiom was not crippled. He had both his arms and legs and he did not have any wounds that made him weak. Instead, his kin called him Xiom because he refused to fight.

That being said, when Xiom was hungry he still killed and ate. When others tried to kill Xiom, Xiom would still kill them. But the difference was that he killed monsters because he needed to eat and killed kin out of self defense.

After a time the Creators looked down and saw Xiom. They wondered why he was not like the other Ancestors and plucked him from the pit.

But Xiom knew that the Creators would not approve of his passivity and when he found himself at the top of the pit he went into a rampage and killed all the monsters there. The Creators looked on bemused and asked Xiom why he did not kill in the pit but did so outside. He replied that inside the pit he could not grow. That no matter how much he fought in the pit, it would never amount to anything.

The Creators laughed and said that while they could not let him out of the pit, they would let him have one thing to ease his time there.

Xiom thought for a while and asked for a stream.

The Creator of Darkness was again baffled. “Why a stream? Surely you would want a weapon to be safe or more meat to eat?”

Xiom shook his head and replied that he had simply grown tired of drinking blood and wanted fresh water to wash himself after he had killed.

The Creators laughed and the next day a stream flowed down the walls and into the pit.

Xiom died shortly after that. But he had laid the foundations and the fruit of his effort began to take hold.

With the water came life. Mushrooms grew where the water went and where the mushrooms grew so too was there light. And with light the Ancestors could finally see each other, see their faces, see the wretched creatures they had become. With the mushrooms they did not need to kill to eat. With the light they didn’t not need to fear the dark. They did not need to fear each other because the Ancestors could begin to see emotions on each other’s faces that they had never felt before.

Escape could not come from the outside. It first had to come from inside the pit as the Ancestors realized that they no longer wanted to go back to being like the creatures they were before. In honor of Xiom, they called themselves Ximati. Cursed people.

But still the fact remained that the Ximati were stuck inside the pit. Though how they saw the world changed their situation didn’t. Monsters still prowled the pit and they lived in fear that one day the Creators would take away the stream and with it their only source of light.

Then came Xican. The first Shaman. And she brought with her the fifth message: Become what you are.

The Creators had assumed that the Ximati were like all the other monsters. That they would not think and if they did then only for themselves. But Xican saw what she was. She was their creation and held in herself the same power for evil, yes, but also the same power for creation. Thus, she went to the side of the pit and focused her attention there. Time passed into the stacking of many, many bones but as she neared the end of her life, the first, smallest, most insignificant of cracks appeared in the pit.

Not one but many Ancestors came together across many generations to split the pit. Many Shamans, many Warriors, many Healers, many Elders. It took until the pile of bones was almost to the height of half of the pit but finally the cracks had become so far reaching that it could not sustain the combined force of ten Shamans channeling the power of their Ancestors before them.

The pit collapsed and the Ximati were free.

But their pain did not end there.

After all, the Creators had planned for this.

All the monsters in the pit rushed out into the world as the walls of the pit collapsed. The Creators that the Ximati had expected to fight for their freedom were nowhere to be seen. They did not know at the time that the Creators had already done their job. No, in fact, it was the Ximati that did it for them.

The Ximati went out into a world of light that burned their eyes. They were stronger than anything that lived outside the pit and lived full and happy lives amidst the lush trees and bountiful meadows. But then the other races caught wind that the pit had collapsed. They sent their armies and weapons to subdue the evils that had been released into the world.

At first, the Ximati were ecstatic. They were more than happy to see the monsters that had hunted and killed them in the pits be removed. But then the armies turned their swords on the Ximati. The Ximati tried to explain to the other races that they were not like the monsters. They could talk and had their own culture. They even did not kill if they did not have to. But their cries fell on deaf ears as the armies slaughtered them indiscriminately.

Why were the other races hunting them down? Did they not see that the Ximati were different? The Ximati could not understand it and they wandered the world without a home, constantly hunted by races that did not want them there.

Eventually, they found a land that begrudgingly allowed them to stay. The Ximati blessed them and told them they would not regret it. They worked hard to repay the hospitality of the people there but over time something curious happened. The Ximati found that more and more of them ended up in chains. The Ximati asked the people why they were doing this, but the people simply pointed to their own people that were in chains and said that was how it worked in that land.

The Ximati took them at their word. If that was how their culture was, who were they who were born of evil to criticize them? Thus, the Ximati watched as more and more of them were put into chains and made to work. Some Ximati did not want to accept the chains, but the words of the native people were beguiling. It was not a permanent thing. There were written contracts that made sure that that a person stayed in chains for only so long. It was better this way. If they worked for a time they would get food and water and after be free citizens! Who else in the world would offer them a deal so magnanimous as that?

And so the Ximati accepted their chains, but was not long until they realized that the walls surrounding them were like a pit.

Thus, the sixth: In all things living, there exists The Pit.

The Ximati broke free of their chains easily enough. After all, the flimsy metal was nothing compared to the claws and fangs of the monsters in the pit. They escaped from their slavers and continued a nomadic life of being hunted. For many decades they wandered across deserts, seas, mountains and plains until they came across a forest.

This forest was not like the forests they had lived in before. It was dangerous and few of the races wished to live there in fear of the monsters that were much like the monsters in the pit. But for the Ximati it was the perfect home, an end to their exodus spanning nearly two centuries. The Ximati went further into the forest where they first lived climbing amongst the treetops with their claws. But treetop hammocks were poor protection for their children who had yet to grow into their spikes and so the Ximati set about carving their homes into the largest of the trees on the very edge of the territories of the monsters that lay beyond. There they made a home for themselves away from the other races that wished to kill and enslave them, but also somewhat safe from the monsters and evils of the world.

Thus, in that way, there is the seventh and final message: In all things there may exist The Pit, but one need not ever live in it.

The vision passed and Kai was left in the dark of the sanctum reeling alongside the Elder. The air had become freezing and he could see that their breaths were forming into clouds of vapour. Kai tried to discern what the Elder was thinking but his mind was an indecipherable chorus of voices that all spoke at once in different tones, moods and languages. In the end Kai decided to wait for the Elder to speak first.

“I-I have failed you, Uluanwen,” the Elder said. “Not only did not help you find the object you seek, I showed you something unsightly.”

The Elder bowed his head. Kai quickly made him raise it before shaking his head.

“Hey, you do realize it was my fault that the ritual failed, right? I have this magic mumbo jumbo ability I forgot about that messed it all up.”

“The Ancestors told me so, but even still-”

“Forget about it, old timer. Besides, I don’t think what we saw was unsightly. If it was up to your Creators you would have just ended up like the rest of the monsters in the pit. But you guys resisted that despite starting off in the worst conditions imaginable.”

Kai looked up at the carvings that lined the ceiling in a new light. There were grotesque depictions of cannibalism, sacrifices, tribal wars and gargantuan monsters slurping up Ximati by the hundreds. Yet, hidden beneath the veneer of horror and dread there were shapes that stood out amongst the carnage. Ximati that stood not above, but within the tidal waves of despair around them like stalwart rock cliffs bracing against a raging storm. Kai looked back down at the Elder.

“If anything, I should be thanking you.”

A look of surprise stole over the Elder’s face. Inside of his mind was a whole library of faces from many different races that showed nothing but contempt, distaste, revulsion and hatred towards the Ximati without even knowing of their origins. Yet, this human had seen their whole history and was thanking him for it? It just didn’t make sense.

“Why?” asked the Elder. “In the end, you are no closer to the object you seek. Not only that, but you now know that we are creatures born of evil. To many we are beings that should not exist. After all, we were born alongside monsters that have brought nothing but sorrow ever since they were released into this world.”

Kai thought about it for a moment before replying. Vapour clouds trailed upwards as he pondered while staring at the ceiling. When he finally spoke the exaggerated levity dropped from his voice and was replaced by a tired rumble like the grating of gravel.

“I’m thanking you because you give me hope,” Kai said.

“Hope? Why do our memories of such an evil history give you hope?” the Elder asked.

“I think your Ancestors said it best. ‘In all living things there is The Pit.’ It’s the same with me. Back in the place I came from I just accepted the shitty hand we were all dealt as being a fact of life. I thought there was nothing that could be done about it and lived like everyone else did. In the words of my subconscious I became a ‘cold-blooded killer’.”

Kai paused. Memories threatened to surface from the bog of his inner mind but he pushed them back with trained ease. Still, Kai’s abrupt silence was noticeable in the dark chill of the sanctum.

“Then,” Kai began, “I tried going against the flow. I failed. I tried again and I failed again. Countless times people told me it's impossible to ever change what’s set in stone. Now, I’m trying to do the same thing I’ve already messed up twice and every day I ask myself if I’m just being a stupid fool that doesn’t want to accept that he lives in an imperfect world.”

“If I may ask, what was it that you tried to do?”

Kai let out a small exhalation of air that could have been mistaken for a laugh or a mocking sigh.

“I tried… to create peace. A man who has only known how to fight and kill tried to create peace. Ironic isn’t it? But I failed not because I didn’t have the know how to force other people to see my way. No, I failed because I didn’t bother to try to understand the people I wanted to protect. I failed because I’m a sociopathic egomaniac that wanted to play hero.”

“But even after failing twice you still refuse to give up? Knowing that you lack what you need to achieve your goal?”

“Yep. I’m stupid like that. Besides, like I said, your people give me hope that I can change. That maybe one day I can become something more than a killer pretending to be a hero. Trust me, what you just showed me is a lot more valuable to me than you think.”

The Elder was silent for a long time, his thoughts a whirlwind of voices that never seemed to be able to agree on any one thing. Then, all at once, the voices in the Elder’s mind stopped. The Elder stood up and walked to the door.

“Come, I will not leave you hanging in the dark. There are other ways to find what you seek.”