they'll sing about our ______

A high-pitched frequency tugged Zane’s ears. Shay and Lucian perked up in sync.

“That’s the cry of the Sparks! Oh, I think I can hear a few babies inside as well! The miracle of life!”

“Yeah, what that guy said. Keep swinging!”

“On it!” Zane grinned and gave the wall another wallop. This one seemed packed with denser, harder sediment, meaning it’d be a while, but he wasn’t digging alone this time. The queen had been agitated for a bit, and devolved into a desperate frenzy when they made it to this cavern. She clawed with such fervor she made some good dents in the wall, which Zane used to his advantage. Dirt gave way, a fine crust bearing cracks and strain with each hit—and, on top of all that, this constant mining helped Zane flex his long-dormant endurance.

It was humiliating, looking back, how quickly he folded to the Rage he wielded. But it’d been a part of him all his life, and now it flowed freely, guiding them forward. For a while, he could forget everything again.

He focused on the target before him. Destruction seemed so simple, but one always needed to make extra sure they weren’t destroying something important.

Or, on the other hand, hesitating in a situation where a single confident swing had a good chance of fixing everything.

Zane glanced at Lucian. He needed to keep the queen calm and focused, guiding her with a gentle hum. Zane didn’t ask, Lucian didn’t offer, choosing a support role—despite his skill, he showed reluctance with brute force, the exact kind of fear Zane didn’t need if his life was on the line.

…Maybe he just had to give it time. Swallow the frustration.

Just thinking about it carried Zane’s fists forward. A crack, bigger than the rest, crawled from ceiling to floor, puffs of obliterated rock escaping. A kettle about to blow—or, in a different sense, a spiderweb drawing the path home, lines connecting intricate patterns.

Until—

It all came down.

Zane grabbed Shay and yanked him back, Lucian following. The queen’s hard rock-like shell protected her, thank god, but Zane had no time to reach her, not to mention his own very fragile head to protect.

He squatted and covered his head. A few slates hit Zane and crumbled to pieces, sending him into a coughing fit. The dust took time clearing, helped along with an odd breeze—

—coming from within the cavern ahead.

“What…”

Lucian stepped ahead of Zane. Something dragged him forward. Before Zane took a step, Lucian bolted, leaving him and Shay to run after the other man.

Two things became evident: An unceasing chorus of chirps, and the glittering caverns, sanded down to flat surfaces in a way too man-made to ignore. They no longer needed Lucian’s light, because the entire cavern was lined with glimmering rocks like the one Shay brought along which had long since lost its luster. The sparks ignored them, returning to their queen, and their voices carried a song.

Surrounding the song, a story.

The walls bore murals upon murals, leading down a path which dragged the images along.

“This must be… the story of Xital. His prophecy.”

Ah.

“It’s gotta be,” Shay said, breathless. “But—it’s been here? This deep under? How does anyone get down here…”

Lucian frowned, confused. “I thought you would’ve been here before.”

“Nope. Never. Don’t care enough.”

Zane walked along, ignoring them. Murals undersold the impact a little bit. Not only did the glow-gems make it seem as though a night sky loomed overhead, but other glowing gems of various colors accented the rich paints, texturing sprinkled sparingly between. At one point, the artist used coarse dirt to illustrate a grand deity, and soft feathers for another.

Big wonder who was who.

“Xital and Vitam,” Lucian said. “But… isn’t this strange? They’re side by side, here.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that—” Zane began, but before they dared to ponder more, a chirp distracted Zane.

The queen begun to made an odd noise, one which called sparks from various crevices who swarmed her relentlessly; not one damaged the murals. They gathered around her and snuggled together, a large nest with their queen at the center.

“Ah, I think they’re trying to get acclimatized to her again,” Lucian said. “Sorry for pulling you all away from the fun, but I think it’s about time we leave them be.”

Shay looked behind them. “You’re telling me. My finely tuned instincts’re telling me we’re not far from the exit. This is the start of the fancy painting show, right?”

“It’s the end, to be more precise.”

“Eh, dunno about—”

A blast flew through the air. A sharp, finely carved arrow with a coated tip coasted over everyone’s heads and landed in the eye of the Spark Queen. Her gentle noises turned to gruesome screaming as she flailed about, the sparks screaming and scattering further down the cavern.

Lucian gasped, running to her side. Zane turned around.

He knew that voice. He threw himself in front of Shay, catching sight of the Queen’s murderer.

An older man, morose no matter the day, threw a bow to the ground. His quiver had nothing in it anymore.

“It’s best she doesn’t suffer in this cursed place,” he said, as if apologizing, as if explaining undid his deeds and wrapped a pretty bow on the story he put together in his head. “She must’ve been through so much pain… the Xitalins drove her out of their home to protect their sordid history, yet you brought her back.”

“No one I know would’ve gotten worked up over some critter hanging around!” Shay yelled, swinging his hammer from a safe distance. “Who the hell’re you?”

Zane’s mouth went dry. Cold flooded his veins, though nothing changed.

Though everything changed.

Now it all made sense—the apparitions, concentrations of worshipper’s emotions. They missed the exit—because they’d made the long journey to the end.

The fact that nothing stopped the church from getting what they wanted, even if it meant barging into enemy territory.

“Vitam’s Calm,” Zane said, “Pearce Hunt.”

The Spark Queen’s cry ended. The loss of a life permeated the room, with all her subjects to bear witness.