MAP OF THE CONTINENT OF DAENIYA

A hefty thing, certainly. Much bigger than a man, but smaller than, say, a dragon. To call it a rock would do it no favors. This is certainly more than a rock. What word would describe it most aptly, though? To call it a mountain would make it seem as though it were insurmountable. To call it a boulder would make it seem as though it were still easily budged. No, this is a rock. A massive rock, but a rock, nonetheless.

“Hey, Firae. Firae! What’s got you staring at that slab?” Slab. Shit. Now that’s an apt word to describe this. A slab. Wide, solid, unmovable as it is, but possibly pushed aside with the force of a company. A slab.

“Hm? Ah, I was just pondering this— er, slab. Strange size, no? And the markings on it, up close… The stone doesn’t match that of the rest of this site. It seems older, in a way. More worn down, yet…” A pause.

“Slow down just a bit. It’s a slab. This is a dig site. We’re not being paid to research, that’s what the robes are here for. We’re being paid to guard them from any upstart bandits who think ambushing mages would be profitable enough to risk being burned to death.” A tight smile forms between his lips. “It’s not worth stressing about. They’re almost done for the day, then we can camp out.”

“Arrol, please. We can’t just be motivated by pay. We’re also here for another reason, lest you forget. I swear, you tree—“ I catch myself. Racial biases aside, Arrol stands apart from even the other members of his race in being particularly blunt and straightforward. Even other Oak Elves have more tact than he, which is impressive, to say the least.

“Tree what? Hm? The term is Oak Elves, because we’re hard as Oak.” He pounds his chest with a closed fist dramatically, then laughs. “I’m kidding. You can relax, you’re so tense. Firae, calm down. And take that pout off of your face, you—“ With the quick motion of changing from a leaning position to a forward step, he slips in the mud, falling on his ass.

“You can at least attempt to stifle your laughter.” He says, looking up at me.

“Look who’s the serious one now!” I laugh a bit more, before seeing two of the researchers approaching us.

“Arrol, Firae, you are not being paid to play in the mud like children.” A human man, almost seventy, instructing us as though we’re subordinates. “Stand up and keep watch for bandits. There are important materials here which would be better off not stolen.” He walks away with his partner.

“Pfft—hahahah! What a fuckin’ rockjaw! How serious can someone be? It’s like—Ooh, I’m an important researcher, but I’m human, so you know I’m important, because if I wasn’t, I would still be on the coast.” Arrol’s imitation of the man is poor. Incredibly so. However, despite his poor acting talent, and brash personality, he’s still charming. With green eyes, an angular face, a broad chest, and short matted, brown hair, he’s practically the poster child of his kind. He stops his mimickry. “Checking me out again? Hm?” He makes a flexing motion, then leans up against the slab which had captivated me mere moments ago. However, rather than the slab sitting, unbudging, it shifts, with a loud, scraping noise, as it slowly slides deeper into the façade of the cliff which overlooks the ruin.

“Oh, shi—“ Arrol slips backwards again, albeit into the wall as his footing comes out from beneath him, and the slab is pushed further in, slowly opening up the recess into a dark, cavernous entry. A number of researchers come running at the sound.

“What is that?” one says, looking up at the slab.

“An entry. The chronicles were correct. This is indeed another entry to the Under. How these two fools came about it, I can’t be sure. But it certainly seems to be another entry, which means more cave for the charters to map out.” This researcher, a grizzled old elf, likely from the capital, begins to sketch out the entrance on a pad of paper. “Fascinating. We thought we had found them all. Yet, here, one eluded us. So close to the Central Chamber, too…”

A dark feeling washed over me suddenly, as I looked into the dark. Something, someone was looking back. I had seen their eyes, and they had seen mine. I don’t know whether to feel pity or fear, but I can’t say I felt at ease. As soon as they appeared, they were gone once again. Eyes, in the dark.

An arm around my shoulder. “Firae. You saw that too, right?” Arrol had stood up. He no longer seemed like the joyous individual he was moments ago. He seemed shaken. “How good of a look did you get?”

“All I saw were eyes.”

“She had the eyes of Merminis. I’ve seen them in my dream.” Shock, and concern. A tomb had been unsealed, and with it, a horrifying notion.

“Give me another chance, Firae! C’mon!” The brute flings his arm around her shoulder with a force of entitlement. She weakly tries to push him off, but he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. “C’mon! One night in the sack with me, and you’ll forget all about these other dumbshits!” He takes another swig with his available hand, while she squirms uncomfortably. I share a glance with her. Normally, she’d be playing off of the other mercenaries, but tonight was different. We had seen something which could not be spoken of.

“I’m really not feeling it tonight. Sorry, Lance.” She lifts her other arm, and pulls his arm off of her. “Hm. Alright, alright. I’ll go see some of the night ladies, then.” He stands up from the fire, and walks away.

“Arrol.” She looks up at me as I move to sit beside her. “We can’t let word of this get out to anybody. We might even need to—“

“No. Not that far. The caves are deep. It will take them months, years even.”

“But, the report. If we do, the report won’t—“

“You don’t think an entire company of dead researchers and mercenaries would arouse suspicion? That’s if we could even take them all on. We manage to kill them all, then what? Daurellian himself will personally go into those caves with the royal guard looking for a suitable wife. No. We need to go in ourselves. Speak to them. Warn them.”

“I… You’re right. Should we go now?”

“The longer we wait, the closer the researchers get to entering themselves. Let’s go.” Firae stands up right after I do, and we begin a quiet walk to the entrance. The hole, a small entry, by most considerations, was undiscovered. Now, this would be our burden to bear.

The entrance itself felt looming, although this was not because of its size alone. While it was a large cave, it was no larger than any other entrance. Rather, it was the significance. The missing family, the missing bloodline, what the researchers themselves had been looking for for years, was now finally within an arm’s distance from their very camp. This was the only chance we could offer to them.

“No turning back. As soon as we begin this descent, we’ll be branded enemies of Daurellian. Are you ready for that, Arrol?” I feel her hand grip mine, and she wraps her hand around my fingers, moving to envelop solely my smallest finger with the whole of her hand, and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“No. I’m not ready. We’re definitely not getting paid enough to do this, either.” I smile through the dark, though I don’t know if she can even see it at all. All I hope is that she can feel the intention behind my words.

“We really don’t. If my name gets etched on a monument, I’ll be happy.” Unfortunately, all she’s able to find in my words is pessimism.

“For the future, right? To prevent this unholy matrimony.” “For the future.”

A step down from the damp edge which leads into the cave. Daurellian be damned, there won’t be an Ascension, and we won’t allow a new Golden Child. We’ll slow him for as long as we can, and when our time runs out, we’ll have sung our greatest song.

“Maybe Merminae’s descendants will all be dead. Maybe we have to kill them ourselves.”

“Gods, stop being so bleak, Firae. You were never like this when you first joined the Ring.”

“When I first joined the Ring, I hadn’t been working with y—“ She slips, and, our hands locked, drags me down, plummeting into the depths. Everything goes black, and the fall culminates in an unconscious splash.