Chapter II: Hole of Change

Being back home and enjoying some rabbit stew were the last things running through the mind of Alakar. His vision was all a blur along with his concentration. Fortunately, his pack cushioned some of the fall, but that was all the good news he had.

Blood leaks down from a gash on his forehead, covering his eyes and face both. With his right arm, he attempts to wipe his face of blood and confusion. He tries using his left arm first, but it doesn’t respond; he soon sees as to why that is.

The wounds from the stirges festers on his left side, and he notices that he landed more on his left side too. Alakar looks around with slightly better vision now, and the only light that he sees is from the hole that he fell through. There is no telling how far the drop actually was. And he continues to gaze around the room haphazardly until everything goes black once again.

Unaware, he slipped in and out of consciousness for several hours.

Another hour or so of recovery time passes, and he finally figures something out, and says, “Fuck, I’m so screwed. There’s no way I’m getting out of this hole!”

After complaining a bit, he noticed that he wasn’t in a hole but a cave. The acoustics were noticeably different, and the temperature was constant. Even with this new information, it still didn’t help him with his current problems. There was just another pending issue to add. He was soaked to the bone, sprawled out in a stream that ran through the cave, and his left leg was mangled beyond belief.

It dawned on him that the crunching sound he heard earlier was the sound of his leg making sudden contact with the cave floor. The sarcastic nature within him began to dwindle and peter out, and he knew there was little chance of him walking again, much less surviving this ordeal. It took him a few more moments than usual, but he went through some slapping of the face and gathered the resolve needed.

He tells himself, “I will make it back to my family, and survive this coming winter, do or die,” and he then begins to crawl with a broken leg and arm.

The flatter, dryer portion of the cave could have been no more than a couple of meters away, but in this situation, it was a painful marathon. He gripped the ground with his good arm and pushed off as hard as he could with his working leg. Nearing the top of the incline, he rolled onto the leveled dry spot of the cave, and heaved in and out of breath. He lied on his back and began to slow his breathing, and then pulled out a small glossy stone from his tiny knapsack.

Side thoughts aside, he soon gathers concentration and closes his eyes. Alakar clasps the stone in his hand and presses it against his chest, and says, “Please let me see, help me in my time of blindness.”

His brows furrow, “C’mon, just work damn it!”

Minutes later the stone flickers with a white light in the palm of his hand. The light shimmers into existence like a newborn flame, and the room becomes a little more vivid.

Inside the cave lies a stream, cutting through all the way into the dark end of the cave. It’s narrow, the walls are solid rock, and there’s not a lot of flat ground beside the rugged banks of the stream.

He found the ground to be unbelievably hard and uncomfortable, and it forced him to upright himself against the wall of the cave. There was no chance of him being able to stand, he knew that. However, in this position, he could hold his light source and get his pack off. He needed to get to the supplies that he brought, otherwise there would be no chance of him surviving. This was a grueling process, he groaned and spat in pain from moving around with broken limbs, cuts, and stab wounds. He tried his best to go slow and prevent further injury to himself, and he really struggled with the last part.

After a lot of painstaking effort, he showed off his huntsman skills to no one and lit a small fire, start to finish, with one arm. Not long after obtaining more light, he managed to dress some of the cuts and scrapes on his body. And of course, downed some herbal concoctions made by the best herbalist he knew. He didn’t care for the bitter taste, but he smiled anyway, proud of himself for remembering to pack medicine at all. When it came to skills and techniques, he really wasn’t much of an expert on anything that didn’t involve hunting or scouting. It really showed in these dire times and for the better.

Hours trail on, and the hole no longer shows any traces of daylight. He drops his light stone into his front pocket, causing it to dim back to normal. The only source of light providing visibility now is a wee flame. Feeling invigorated and proud of his works, he lets his mind wander briefly. There is little to do at this point but gather strength, and the shoveling of jerky begins. Mouthful after mouthful of smoked meats falls down the hatch.

*Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom*

It wasn’t long before someone or something found an interest in Alakar’s little camp, and shadows began to move against the edges of the light.

*Click* *Clack*

He fixes his eyes upwards, now staring intently at the direction of the sounds, and yells, “Come out, and show yourself! I know you’re there!”

There was no reply, yet five small-sized humanoids with ugly features stepped into view. All of them stood on the border of light and dark, almost totally obscured, yet the grins and feasts within their eyes were clearly visible. They surrounded Alakar and put his back against the wall, yet he wasn’t about to let what appeared to be a group of poorly armed toddlers take him out.

Encircled with little elsewhere to go, he draws out a single knife, and his eyes dart from one enemy to the next, waiting to see which one will strike first. He makes a rash decision and doesn’t wait for the enemy to pounce. Instead, he tumbles himself into the two morons standing right in front of him.

The speed of the wounded man takes the creatures by surprise, and a trio falls down into the stream like dung to a gongpit. Whilst in mid-air, he manages to maneuverer just enough to fall on and pin both creatures. He ends their squirming with some precision stabs. Blood pours into the stream, turning it red. And once again, he finds himself soaking wet.

Both sides snarled at one another under dim light. The remaining three came to the edge of the stream and brandished a couple of clubs, but one had a rusty dagger. These animals had little fear, only hunger, and violence in their minds. They wasted little time as their primitive emotions took them, and they set upon him again.

The group leaped on top of their wounded prey, but one of them was foolish and impaled itself on a knife. The other two landed softly and started swinging their weapons down on Alakar. He was too wounded to run away or able enough to effectively dodge the swings that came at him. The club made contact with his ribs multiple times, cracking them in several places. Normally, a small pest like this could inflict no harm on a single man but starting off wounded changed things.

A wrestling match to the death continues in a stream. Water, blood, and war cries on both sides are thrown about. With only two good limbs, Alakar struggles to prevent the one with a dagger from stabbing him.

He finds himself falling into a pattern of kicking or pushing one of them away just to prevent the other from finishing him off with a good swing. Eventually, he sees an opportunity that he’s been waiting for and smacks the incoming club to the side with his knife. With the new opening, he thrusts his knife forward into the throat of the ugly creature. It reaches for its throat in a panic, seeking air and reprieve, only to choke on its own blood. In that sly moment, he fails to kick the other beast away and this causes him to scream out in pain.

The beast sinks and twists a rusty dagger deep into his leg. He shouts at the stalactites on the ceiling, and yoinks the knife from his enemy’s skull, causing the body to smack the floor like a sack of potatoes. In a swift motion, he slashes his knife out in a wide arc. The last beast tries to pull their dagger from his leg to no effect and receives a puncture. The knife hits the chest, piercing straight through the sternum, instantly killing it. Both bodies then smack the water but for different reasons.

Alakar is exhausted, but after some time he begins to sit upright in the stream and yells, “Fuck my leg! Damn those goblins!”

He winces in pain from his overzealous movements, now noticing the dagger still lodged within his calf muscle.

There was a long-distance, relatively so, between him and his pack; there laid his only chance for medical aid. The previous bandages and wounds were torn open during the fight. He wasn’t bleeding too bad from the dagger, but it was lodged, poking fully out the other side.

For a while, he sat there considering if he should pull the blade out and felt like he was wasting his time. Gracious despair started to set in. Thoughts of Margrett and the kicks of his unborn child flashed through his mind, and it took hold of his emotions. Frustrated beyond belief at his situation and at the idea that he may never see his family again, he yelled at the top of his lungs.

After he let all of his emotions out through one loud yell, silence covered the cave. Yet before he could weep, the entire cave began to rumble and shake. Alakar looked around, unable to see anything but the small light from his campfire. Sounds of stones could be heard moving around as the shaking continued, and then the rushing sounds of water became ever more apparent.

He cries out, “Oh shit, that’s a lot of water!”

Forgoing his current impairments, he begins to quickly crawl out of the channel.

*Swoosh* *Swoosh*

It was too late, and a vicious wave that filled half of the cave came out of the dark and collided with everything. With one sweeping motion, living and nonliving things were pushed from one end of the cave to the other, which included Alakar.

He was picked up by the currents and could only keep his head above water for half the time. The rest of the time, he was caught up in the strong waves, struggling to hold his breath. It was difficult for him to stay upright within the water column, and he couldn’t find one of the things he needed most. And that was air.

He soon passes out, spinning and waning through the waters like a round stone at the bottom of a river.

An unknown amount of time passed yet again Alakar, and he found himself spat out inside a new cavern. He pushed himself up with one arm and went through an episode of coughing up water.

At some point, he caught his breath and observed his surroundings. The room was around the same size as his cottage, yet it was still very much a part of the cave. A major difference with this new area was the presence of moss, viny plants, and a short column of roots within the middle of the room. The most shocking thing to him though, was the existence of a stone within that entanglement of roots.

It was a dark green orb made from what thought to be a polished gemstone. He caught himself ignoring all the issues that plagued him, and then a feeling of shock and awe filled him as he continued to peer into the stone. The effect left him in a trance-like state, yet he managed to resist it before anything could happen.

He then huffed and dragged himself to rest against the wall. There was a small hole above the stone that casted shimmers of sunlight upon it. It was a clear indication of a potential way out, but he didn’t care. The fatigue within his body had built up quite a bit, and he wasn’t even sure how or why he was still alive. Without physical energy, he would soon fall asleep.

“Wake up, mortal! Do not ignore my presence!”