Journey to the Abyss

The Hero’s Party departed that same day. It was also the first day since the attack in the mountains that Deme’s poor horse once again breathed free air. It was not that Lavenza had forgotten about him; she had simply been too weak to pull him out of his spatial cage. It was safer keeping him locked away than attempting (and failing) a reverse incantation.

“Asta Kavan,” Lavenza commanded.

Her pocket dimension widened until it was large enough for Horse to jump back through. The poor creature stomped his hooves and bared his teeth at her.

“Whoa, whoa,” Richard rushed forward and grabbed a hold of the reins before the horse made a sudden charge. “Easy there. You’re such a beautiful horse. You’re such a wonderful horse.”

“Has he been stuck in there this entire time?” Deme asked.

“Not exactly,” Lavenza replied. “Time flows differently in alternative space. That’s why food doesn’t spoil so quickly. For us outside, it’s been however many weeks. For Horse here, he was stuck inside for maybe a matter of minutes. Still, it’s dangerous to keep live creatures there. They float about, not knowing where or when they are.”

“What if he poops while he’s trapped in there?” Richard asked. Everyone shot him a disgusted look. “What? You know, because he looks like he’s been scared shitless.”

“I’m going to try not to think about that,” Lavenza muttered, “I just hope he hasn’t eaten anything valuable.”

Journeying with Richard’s party proved different from traveling with ordinary folk. This was a proper adventure after all, and the members of the Hero’s Party all assumed responsibilities for life in the group.

It was Richard’s job to lead, to scout, and to map the best route to the entrance to the Abyss. Tamarin foraged for food and prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Faye purified their water reserves and scanned their surroundings for dangers or bad weather.

“It’s going to rain,” Faye said at the end of the first day.

Deme offered to help where she could. By default, Tamarin took the girl under her wing. They were a natural fit. The goblin shaman possessed a knack for finding rare herbs and delectable mushrooms in the forest, but Deme was the better cook. One could tell from the surprise on Richard and Faye’s faces that dinner that night had been a marked improvement.

That first night, Tamarin offered dinner to Lavenza. A shy disposition did not suit a goblin. Her hunched, bumpy green exterior made her seem perpetually grumpy, but she looked away as she handed the apostate a plate of stir fried mushrooms tossed with herbs.

“Here,” she grumbled. “It doesn’t taste gross this time. I think.”

“Thanks Tamarin,” Lavenza said, then added, “you can sit here if you want.”

The goblin shaman shuffled herself onto a log beside her.

“I never said thank you for saving my life,” Lavenza said. “I should have said it earlier, so I’m sorry, Tam, and thank you.”

“It’s only natural,” Tamarin shrugged, “and I did it for the child. She would have never forgiven me if I could not save you.”

“You two get along well,” Lavenza smiled. “She’s really taken to you.”

“And she loves you, Lavenza,” Tamarin snapped. “You shouldn’t forget that so easily.”

“…Where did that come from?” Lavenza asked.

“You’ve probably never thought about it before, which figures,” Tamarin groaned. “After all, you’re you. But when she’s with me, you’re all she can ever talk about. Why do you think she asked to learn Menuan with me?”

Lavenza looked over at Deme. The child served Faye and Richard their portions and returned to the campfire to continue brewing a stew she planned to store with Lavenza’s help.

Tamarin was right, that Deme reserved any positive feelings for Lavenza had hardly ever crossed her mind. She had been an overbearing guide, for one. Their arrangements had often been purely transactional, and Deme had often received the worse end of the deals.

Lavenza shoved Tamarin’s comments to the back of her mind. The goblin shaman had to have been mistaken. After all, what was there to like?

Faye’s prediction was correct. A heavy rain rolled in the next morning and flooded the ford that Richard and the rest of the company had intended to cross. The party debated taking the long way around, to a bridge further out west, but ultimately decided to wait out the rain and cross when more favorable conditions emerged.

Lavenza helped the elf set up a rain proof camp. She shielded the camping grounds with a translucent dome and helped Faye capture rain that she superheated into drinkable water.

“There’ll be little water once we delve into the Abyss,” the elf reasoned. “This delay’s actually a stroke of good luck.”

Faye snapped her fingers and stored gourds and canisters into her own spatial dimension. The contours of Faye’s pocket dimension were not as smooth as Lavenza’s. They fluctuated at random and collapsed shortly after Faye had stored too much water.

“You’ve figured out spatial magic,” Lavenza observed. “You were still working on it last time.”

“I’ll be better than you at it one day,” Faye shrugged. “You can praise me again, then.”

Richard, Tamarin, and Faye slept in their own separate tents at night. Deme and Lavenza shared a larger tent between the two of them.

That night, the rain persisted and grew until a storm manifested in the valley. Lavenza kept her translucent rain cover active over the camping grounds, but the longer it stayed there, the more worried she became. With such a heavy downpour, it was possible that the weather would mask Lavenza’s mana, but her shield acted as a faint signature to anyone adept enough to listen.

A flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the tent, followed by additional streaks that soared overhead. Deme flinched at each flash and shivered when thunder rolled through the camp.

“Deme,” Lavenza said. “You okay?”

“I just remember,” Deme whimpered. “I can’t help but think about the other day.”

Deme tried withdrawing further into her sleeping bag, but thin covers were hardly protection against the disquiet. Lavenza recalled the nights where Seline cradled her in her arms. She thought about the first few nights in the monastery. Lavenza had missed home, missed her parents. When Headmistress Eifen passed her bed at midnight, her hands had settled on Lavenza’s head and gave her hair a ruffle.

In both cases, it hadn’t made her feel better. Seline whispering soft lullabies into her ear only made her remember that their love had been conditional on fulfilling the empress’s final wish, and the headmistress’s touch was nothing but foreign. It emulated her mother but could not approach its fragile warmth.

Lavenza reached out with her hands and pulled Deme’s body, tucked inside her sleeping bag, closer to her. It was distasteful, pithy sentimentality, she believed, but it was better than watching with indifference the arrhythmic, violent shaking that rocked Deme with each crack of thunder.

“Hey,” Lavenza whispered. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s normal, but I’m here.”

“You were there when it happened too,” Deme shook her head. “I’ve never felt so powerless. I’ve never seen you so powerless.”

“There’s always someone much stronger than you,” Lavenza replied. “And in the end, we’re all powerless before the Endire.”

“For a moment,” the child said, “I thought to myself, maybe I should never have asked you to come on this journey to look for Rafta. Maybe I should have stayed at home. Tend to my father’s grave every morning. Then, when the time came, I would board a ship in the city, and sail across The Great Sea.”

“It’s not unusual to think that at all.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Deme replied. “I’ve told others, like Old Calvin, that finishing my father’s armor was more important than my life. That’s why I didn’t go with him. I thought I’d happily sacrifice my life if it meant risking the chance to finish my father’s work. But when the time came, I had second thoughts. I was a coward.”

“Deme, you’re young. So young. You’re allowed to be a coward.”

“But I’m going to stay young when I die.”

At this, the apostate was at a loss for what to say.

“I realized something. I won’t be able celebrate my next birthday,” Deme said. “I don’t have the luxury of making mistakes in my youth. I have a goal, Lavenza. Find Rafta. Finish my father’s armor. I relied too much on you to keep me safe. That’s not your fault, Venz. It’s mine. You don’t have to tell me who that stranger was. I know we’ll meet them again. I need to become stronger before then. I would be disrespecting my father’s name if I stayed weak and powerless as I am now.”

“Stronger?” Lavenza asked.

“Yes. Stronger,” Deme repeated. “I need to be at least as tough as you, Venz. Then maybe together we can overcome anything.”

“I’m not so strong,” Lavenza chuckled. “When I was your age, I could never stop crying at the first hint of a challenge.”

“That doesn’t sound the Lavenza I know.”

“I’m full of secrets after all.”

Lavenza brought her lips to Deme’s hair. The kiss surprised her. She had not thought to do it. It had simply happened. The last of the thunder rolled through the camp. The storm was passing, moving its way westward, as if it too were fleeing the end of the world.

“The storm’s passing, Deme,” Lavenza said. “Good night.”

“Thanks for staying up with me, Venz. I love you. Good night.”