P. Into The Maw (Pt.1)

Hollow rang the Ravine. Rocks crumbled and fell to the black depths, tumbling into the empty space beneath his feet as tired, calloused hands clambered down into the dark. Feet sought purchase, toes stretched for solid ground that could bear weight. Hands clutched and forearms flexed. Muscles tired and sore from the day’s work continued to move diligently, lower and lower. Yet, while the sun was well beyond the horizon and dipping quickly, it still was not time to rest. As the distant blue sky began to bleed red, the depths of the open maw grew ever more black.

As the sun faded from view and the amount of natural light dwindled, the sole source of life continued its unsteady descent into the dark. Pebbles peeled from the rock face as he boldly labored on. Stretching. Testing. Grasping. Lowering further and further from the surface into the bottomless depths of the ground scar. As time drug on and with no sign of the floor, his muscles began to struggle. His hands and feet grew desperate. Oxygen barely reached the muscles begging for fuel as they expended more energy than the air could bring in. His body cried for pause, for relief. His mind whirled as doubt crept in. His meager frame was at its limit and there were several moments when fingers dared to slip. But he held on, clinging to the wall of stone for dear life. Death was not an option. So he told himself.

Eventually, the pain was overwritten by instinct. One hand here. One foot there. His knee braced against the wall for comfort for only a moment as his fingers reached downward for the next hold. He stopped thinking, stopped caring, and quietly worried only about where his next foothold would be. It was all he could do to keep himself focused, to keep himself from quitting. From falling. Even as he delved deeper and deeper, long since losing sight of the surface as a black smog clouded his view of it- he stared only at the wall in front of him. How long had he been climbing? How far had he descended? How much further would he need to climb? Would he even last? Questions he did not know the answer to. Questions he struggled to keep quiet while simultaneously trying to keep his focus. He embraced the monotony of his repetitive task and did his best to turn off his wandering brain.

That is until his left foot slipped. A moment he was practically waiting to happen.

The wall had become more slick and smooth the further down he went. The rocks weren’t exactly wet but they lost much of their rigid nature compared to the stones up toward the surface. That rough feeling beneath his hands was something he so desperately needed right now to stay attached to the wall. His fingertips were burning to the point of near numbness when his left foot failed to keep him in check. Terrible timing.

He had been searching for the next hold with his right foot when the left failed, leaving him to dangle. His hands weak and his forearms exhausted, he had no chance. His feet scrabbled against the stoneface, kicking and testing anything that felt like it could support his weight. With each subsequent failure, his hands peeled more and more away from their holds. His fingers desperately clutched the stones beneath them, holding on with every ounce of strength he had left. Desperation set in even further and the boy began to whimper. He had tried everything he possibly could, and his time was up. To his dismay- his fingers slipped free.

The boy didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He only clenched his jaw and swallowed as he fell into the abyss. Here in this pit, there was no one to hear him, no one to cry for him, no one to mourn his failure. What good would it make to yell or cry out? It would be a waste of his breath. Thus, he accepted his mistake. He had failed to properly traverse the ravine. He had underestimated its depth and now, he would be cast off and remembered only as a tally mark for the rest of eternity.

Thump.

With a heavy sound, his body slapped against the ground with force. The noise of meat hitting stone echoed out into the black space, the noise bouncing off the various rocks and walls which littered the treacherous landscape of the Ravine’s floor. The surprise disturbance failed to awaken the silent, stoic air within the Ravine. No screams of beasts or skitterings of feet. Just the hollow noise of a meat sack impacting the surface. After the brief interruption, silence retook its place, and the Ravine returned to its peaceful slumber. It was an isolated, quiet event that was but a speck in the ultimate circus of life on the planet. The noise of the impact was carried off with the wind, forgotten as soon almost as it was made.

“What…?” However, in that sound came a revelation. The floor was cold, hard. Flat. There was no water. There were no hunters. No monsters or rabid beasts to eat the flesh from his bones. What was expected to be some sort of beautiful or terrifying climax at the end of the descent was nothing but falsehood, a culmination of lies told by adventurers who had never set eyes on the Ravine’s floor themselves. However, now, He had.

And he was… disappointed. The boy had fallen an unknown distance but not far enough to kill him. Enough to jostle his brain and send pain through his skull. Not enough to send him on his way. He sat up, wincing from the bruise the impact was going to leave and the pain that tore through his head. As he did, he realized just how much of a fool he had been to believe those pitiful stories. There wasn't gold, treasure, or fairies here. There was only a perpetual blackness and a bone-chilling breeze that cut through his thin clothes. He should have dressed for the weather. Slowly, as the spinning in his head calmed, he got to his feet.

The boy waited patiently for a few moments, standing in absolute silence as he listened and looked around. No matter how long he stood, staring, hoping his eyes would adjust to the veil, there was nothing that came out of the dark to greet or eat him. All that awaited him was the perpetual chill of the Ravine tickling at the back of his neck. No, that wasn’t just a chill…

Unease ripped through his spine as the hairs on his neck stood on end. but he could do nothing but remain frozen in place. While something had him spooked, there was an equal fear of not being able to see his own feet. There was no telling what would happen if he moved. Would the ground vanish the next time he stepped? Would he tumble down some steep slope? The moment he landed, he had lost all trust in those from the Surface and thus, had no point of reference for what to expect. There was no way they had ever been down here. All of their tales were lies- stories. He had believed them in hopes of finding something cool. Yet there was nothing here aside from the lasting feeling of being watched.

“Move…” he thought, urging his body to do something. Anything. He willed himself to slide his right foot out, stretching it slowly across the floor as he eased across the stone to his right. He raised his right arm slowly, reaching and lightly tasting the air with his fingers. He searched for the rock wall he had fallen from. It couldn’t have been far. He had slipped, not jumped. Yet, he still failed to touch something other than air. For a brief moment, he wondered if maybe he had fallen onto a pillar, or maybe he was on some island space surrounded by emptiness. If either were true then it didn’t matter how far he reached. He would never touch salvation again.

He clenched his teeth and instead of reaching out, he decided to kneel on the ground. On all fours, and now more confident, he crawled slowly to his right. His hands brushed and rolled over the dirt and rocks. The ground was solid, thankfully, and he made steady progress. Inch by inch, he slid directly to his right until, finally, his fingertips brushed the wall. The edge of the ravine wasn’t more than a few feet away as he had guessed. But it was just far enough for him to not be able to touch it normally. Once he found it, he rose to his feet and took in a deep breath. He steadied his thoughts, calmed the screaming in his head, and focused on the next step- walking.

He reached out with his left foot first and stretched it out comfortably in front of himself, letting it land light on the stone. Then, he moved forward with his right. Carefully, building confidence in the idea that the floor wouldn’t give way beneath him, the boy advanced. His hand remained stuck to the wall, sliding over its contours as he started to move forward. His breathing remained steady, a forced tactic he used to keep himself calm. His heart still raced and he could still feel the eyes on his neck. Even so, he kept walking.

He walked and walked, following the winding flow of the wall as he explored the suffocating black. He kicked several rocks out of his path, nudging them with his toes to clear the floor ahead. After a while he began to use them as tools, kicking them ahead of himself and listening for the sound of skittering over the flatness of the floor. With no way to accurately judge his position, the boy tried to count his steps. In doing so he hoped to at least get an estimate of how far he had walked, using his steps to gauge distance. The issue was that the number just continued to rise. He counted to one hundred and then would pick up a stone in his left hand. Once he hit ten stones, he would drop nine and place the last into his right hand.

It was working for a while but soon he realized the futility of the tactic. With no light and no way to know where he was even going, knowing how far he had walked was useless. Unless he found a way out, his step count would be just a way for him to pass the time. Not to mention it would work also as a countdown to his death. He had seen the cut in the sand from the surface, and the Ravine was known to stretch for hundreds of miles through the ground. Before descending, he had looked in both directions in which the Ravine stretched. He wasn’t anywhere close to the end on either side. For all he knew it could span the entire desert. And with all of the stories being proven false so far, there wasn’t a single detail he could trust.

Not like he had a choice now anyway.

Unless he wanted to try and take his chances with climbing back to the surface, he had to go forward. His step count increased, as did his fatigue. He had started climbing in the early afternoon after a long walk through the desert. On his descent, the sun had moved quite a ways through the sky. Add in an estimate of how far he had walked, he could assume it was likely evening by now. If not already nighttime. With no sun, no moon, and no stars to help him tell time, he tried to estimate using known factors.

Except, he had never walked this slow nor had he ever climbed that far. Even if he tried to put the pieces together in his head- he was likely wrong anyway. All he knew was that he was tired and hungry. His stomach tensed up painfully and his muscles pleaded for a break. As much as he wanted to continue, stopping now was as good a time as any. From what he could tell, there would be no difference if he stopped now or later.

The boy walked until he reached the next set of ten rocks in his right hand and then dropped eight of them, leaving him at an easy number to pick back up. He had prepared for a long trip, somewhat, and had snatched a few sandwiches from the bazaar before heading out on his little excursion. They weren’t big but it was better than nothing. The pack he had brought was only large enough to fit three of them along with a small waterskin. Two sandwiches would stave off his hunger for now but as he began to eat them, he already knew food would be a problem.

Thankfully, on his trip to the Ravine, he hadn’t drunk much water. He had his tolerance of the sun to thank for that.

He ate slowly, taking his time chewing and savoring the taste of the first sandwich he sunk his teeth into. It was smushed from the impact on the floor, but it wasn’t ruined. The pack had softened the blow a bit so the boy was thankful for that stroke of luck. Not much else was going for him, so he would take what he could get. As he finished the first sandwich, though, the boy was reminded of the fact that he likely wasn’t alone. He took a moment to look around, his eyes peering out into the dark as the hairs on his neck tickled against his skin.

His curious eyes were answered by the faint howling of the wind as a chilly breeze cut through the stone maw. On the floor and tucked against the wall, he didn't feel much of that breeze but he could certainly hear it. It was eerie, chilling, and he felt uneasy because of it. The boy hurried through his second sandwich, slurped down another light gulp of water, and then tucked away the waterskin into his pack. He pulled out a blanket he had folded up into it and draped it over his body. A contingency just in case he found himself stuck in this kind of situation. The only issue was that the blanket was thin. He needed something light that wouldn’t take up much space so he had snatched a small throw rather than an actual cloth that would give him warmth. This thing would likely only keep the wind out. Better than nothing.

Keeping the blanket tight to his body, the boy pressed against his pack which he had pinned between him and the stone wall. It worked as a barrier against the chilly rock. Once he was comfortable, or as comfortable as he could get, the boy tucked his head down and closed his eyes. His muscles were tired from the climb, his body ached from the fall, and his mind was exhausted from all of the noises he was hearing. Rather than fight off his exhaustion and potentially collapse, he decided it was best to rest a little. With his small meal in his stomach, he hoped for some relief. Before he knew it, his eyes were pinned closed and that same, frightening wind lulled him into a deep, chilled sleep.

An unknown amount of time passed as the boy sat curled up. The rhythmic wind and comfort of the blanket were more than enough to keep him out. When he opened his eyes again, he was welcomed by a threatening, freezing air that bit through his clothes and straight into his bones. The sun had fully set outside of the Ravine and night had come. With no hot air to slowly wedge its way down into the depths, a near icy temperature set in. Having remained stationary for too long, the boy’s body shook uncontrollably. With no way to have wiped it off, his sweat had crystalized against his skin, practically pinning the wet fabric of his clothes to his skin.

Immediately, his mind jumped into panic mode. Hypothermia was no joke, and he had seen it affect the unprepared during some winter desert nights. If he remained still, he would die where he sat. But, even as he told himself to move, his body failed to answer. He felt weak. He couldn’t tell if he had slept for minutes or hours. His muscles felt tight and sore. His fatigue hadn’t dissipated in the slightest and now that he had slept, he found it almost impossible to move. His fingertips and toes were numb from the cold. His nose felt like it was going to fall off as sweat and snot dripped off the tip of it. Even his eyelids felt extremely heavy. Each breath he took was shallow and thin, and his lungs cried out for oxygen.

Was he going to die? In the very pit he had always been warned to stay away from? Away from his family, away from his friends? In some black hole that no one would ever find him in? Would he just become some random skeleton huddled against the wall?

“Dang…” He cursed as he glared down at the unseen floor just in front of him. He fought to clench his chattering teeth, curled his tingling hands into fists, and tried to wiggle his toes as he lowered his head down onto his knees. He let out a shallow sigh and shut his eyes again, letting his racing thoughts slow as fear was slowly replaced with acceptance. He could hardly feel his heartbeat in his chest. His pulse felt weak, his heart waning from the icy grip in the air. His blood would run cold here and there would be no fanfare of his death. Indeed, he had found the bottom of the ravine. He had traveled to the place everyone else was afraid of. Hell, he even walked in it! But, like all of the others who had tried to enter the maw- he would not return.

…or would he?

After sitting there, thinking, mulling over his inevitable death, he remembered a single faint detail. One from when he was but a wee baby holding on to the sleeve of his Auntie. There was an old man in the village of Racou. He had a long, stringy white beard and grey hair that was nothing more than a rat's nest on his skull. His cheeks were shallow, his eyes sunken, and his skin looked leathery and wrinkled. The old man was an odd one, and the boy had seen the man only once.

The old man had been squatting in front of a store with a cup set out in front of himself- a beggar. When the boy gave the old man a coin, one the boy had stolen from somewhere else, the old man smiled and said something the boy had thought useless at the time- “In exchange for your gift, I shall share with you wisdom. There is a door in the darkness, one which leads to a place no normal Man may walk. If you can brave the cold, ignore the doubt and the fear, and outrun the Beast- then your efforts will be rewarded.”

The boy had thought nothing of those words at the time, like a lot of things he had seen or heard when he was that young. But now, now that he was in the Ravine, something seemed off about what the Old Man had said. With that in mind, the boy lifted his eyes and looked around. If he really wanted to stretch the words of the riddle, he could assume the Old Man was talking about the Ravine. The Ravine was dark and it was cold. He had plenty of fear of dying and lots of doubts about being able to survive, but if he could push those away and find that door- maybe he had a chance. The only other detail was outrunning the Beast. Whatever that meant.

Wait, Beast?

Suddenly, he realized that the feeling of being watched still had not gone away. That unease, that lingering and troubling fear making his skin crawl was the only constant other than the cold that was keeping him on edge. He wasn’t alone in this pit of black, was he? While he could not see, he understood that sight was relative. The boy was a human, and humans used light to see. But what if something lived in the dark? It would be able to see in it, too.

Run.

Fight or Flight kicked in, and the boy felt instinct creep into his body. There was something out there that he didn’t want anything to do with. Sensing immediate danger, he tore the blanket off his body and grabbed his pack. He ditched the blanket, giving up on any chance of getting warm in such a place, and rushed to get to his feet. He shot his hands through the straps of his pack and then slapped his right hand against the wall, once more guiding himself forward into the dark. He gave up on counting and clawed his way forward, focusing purely on moving.

As his muscles thawed with the sudden activity, he limped into a quick-paced jog. If it could even be called that. The cold had caused his muscles to contract and after just a few heavy steps he could feel the pain of the sudden motion rip through his thighs. The muscles were frozen tight and the burst of energy was pulling on them. The resulting cramps caused him to stumble, and the sheering pain made him wince. He gasped, his lungs sucking in the icy air as he forced himself to keep moving. His right hand pawed helplessly at the wall and his flimsy sandals slapped at the floor, the leather bottoms clapping extremely loud in the otherwise silent Ravine.

After nearly stumbling and falling onto his face, he heard a distant hiss. The boy stopped and froze where he knelt. Behind him, he heard steps. Rocks clattered onto the floor of the Ravine. A faint tapping of light steps echoed in his ears. His breathing was heavy, but he couldn’t help but notice just how close that noise truly was. What was worse was those steps were only getting louder, closer. He grit his teeth and surged forward, running as fast as he could into the dark. Heat began to return to his muscles as he picked up speed but they had been torn and pulled to their limit already. His jerking into activity after practically turning into an icicle was the worst thing he could have done- yet it had been his only option. Survival was paramount. Yet in this game of endurance, it seemed that instinct was going to lead him to his death.

He dared a look back, doing the one thing every nerve in his body warned him not to do. He had to. He had to know.

There, not far behind and overhead in the black- sixteen small yellow dots, all close together and neatly organized into four rows of four, glared down at him as a massive body nimbly traversed the open mouth of the Ravine. It was a large creature, one he could not completely see. From the noise it made and from the shifting of a dense black outline, he could feel its size just from how terrified it made him to look at it. The dark silhouette spanned the entirety of the maw, its legs clawing at both sides of the rock face as it clambered after him. Truly a guardian of the dark, but that was an advantage. One the boy immediately recognized could work in his favor.

As the rockface turned and curved, the walls spreading open and contracting without much pattern, the creature struggled to keep its legs apart. At times it was forced to adjust its posture, forcing the beast to choose one side of the Ravine to run on until it contracted once more. Those previous changes in the terrain kept it at bay, giving the boy a chance. The boy only had to keep his hand on the wall and run. So long as he didn’t trip, he clung to the idea of having a chance. No longer did he worry about gaps in the floor or the potential of falling into another pit. He would rather fall to his doom than be eaten, or worse.

All was fine for a while. However, the Ravine wasn’t kind. The darkness never thinned. The chill never waned. The beast never slowed. The stone wall never gave way to a cave or a hole or anything. Nothing changed. Just his level of fatigue. No matter how much he willed for something to happen, there was no end to the chase. The creature maintained its distance with fair confidence, while the boy only tired the further he went. The heat of his adrenaline faded, his strength sapped away by the icy air he had been sucking into his lungs.

He began to have difficulty breathing, and the cramps he felt in his legs became almost crippling. He couldn’t stop to drink water and his stomach had already burned through the calories those two sandwiches had provided. His rest had done little to replenish his energy from the climb down and the last burst of energy he had from his body dumping its reserves out of fright had been spent. His running slowed to a jog, then to a stumbling gallop, and then finally to a slow walk. When he could go no further, the boy collapsed onto his knees. His arms shook, his legs throbbed with pain, and his head swirled as oxygen deprivation set in. The pitiful chase came to an almost abrupt end. One he didn’t quite agree with.

The creature, however, also paused. The boy heard it stop behind him. He felt it loom over him, its massive presence pressing down on his back. The boy gripped the wall and the floor, his knees digging into the rough dirt as he struggled to think of his next step. The creature lingered in place, watching him from its distant perch. Not taking a single step closer than where it was at. The boy heaved for air, fighting against death with every struggling wheeze he could muster. The boy listened, waited for the inevitable death that was waiting for him, and stared ahead of himself out of sheer defiance that this was the end.

Even as his body failed him, he clung to the hope that the door was only feet in front of him. That, maybe, if he took another step, he might bump into it. Yet, if he was to believe that there truly was a door, then he had no doubt it would be at the end of the Ravine. It wouldn’t be in the center, floating in the middle of nothing. No, it would either be along the wall in some cave or carved into the very edge of the Ravine- like the entrance to a dungeon or cavern. For it to stick straight out of the ground randomly made absolutely no sense. Now that he thought about it, it truly was foolish of him to believe in such a riddle. The old man was just some senile elder thankful for the free coin.

Aside from the lack of any way out, what was more concerning was the fact that the beast maintained its distance. The boy had been kneeling there for quite some time, hacking and coughing while trying to maintain his consciousness. He was still alive. Still not eaten. The boy looked back at the yellow eyes, those unblinking eyes that radiated power and filled him with fear. They floated there in the black, hovering, watching. Waiting. For a second, the boy wondered why it was just sitting there looking. However, then he realized why.

Why would it fight him, when it could just wait for him to die? There was no need to waste precious energy when he was going to keel over anyway. That fact made sense. The boy would perish here. He had little food, a limited supply of water, and no way out. Even if he tried to climb, the beast could just swat him down or kill him before he climbed out of reach. The boy had no apparent weapons to fight back with but there was always the uncertainty of combat. Thus, the beast picked the safer choice- the long game. The boy hadn’t fought it yet and as long as it kept out of reach, it risked nothing. Not to mention it probably didn’t need to eat very often anyways. The boy could only imagine how often the creature actually came across something edible down here, if it even needed to eat in the first place. The boy might just be unlucky and the creature could be a type that lives off magic entirely. Hunting could just be fun for it.

After finally gathering his breath, he let out a long sigh. He grit his teeth and rose once more to his feet. If he was going to die, then he would be defiant until the end. His knees wobbled and his muscles cried for more time to rest. Yet there was none. The sand in his glass had run out. He planted a hand on the wall and pressed on. The beast moved slowly at his back, stepping along with him and causing small pebbles to drop noisily behind him. Oddly enough, now that the boy knew he wasn’t alone in the black, he felt comfort. Even if the thing which gave him the company would likely feast on his corpse.

“Hey…” The boy called out in a soft voice, coughing hard as the cold nipped at his throat. He paused in his death march to look back at the creature. The eyes remained still. Unanswering. “You… Are you the Guardian of this place?” He asked, staring at the eyes. The boy had heard of such beasts or creatures. While he had never seen one outside of picture books, he had always been curious. However, the likelihood of it talking back was slim to none and he doubted it could even respond if it wanted to. Most creatures of its kind could only understand Magic Language or Demon Speak. He knew neither. When he didn’t get an answer or see any kind of response from the creature, he huffed and continued to walk.

“Guess you aren’t. I’ve never seen a Guardian or any kind of monster for that matter…” He coughed, wheezing faintly as he struggled to breathe.

“My Dad once said that Guardians weren’t all mean or bad.” Ignoring the possibility that the monster didn’t understand him, the boy continued to speak. If he was going to die, then at least he’d try to get something out of this trip. Even if it was an imaginary friend. “My Dad was an adventurer, you know… He wasn’t around much and he left me with my Auntie when he was gone. Whenever he came home, he’d share a few stories, hang around long enough to find another job, and then he’d be gone again. He left two years ago. Haven’t heard from him since. He said I was old enough to live without a deadbeat like him, but I wonder if it was just an excuse.” The boy paused, stopping for a moment as he looked down.

He remembered his father’s face clearly- the large bearded grin, his burly chest, and thick arms. The mixed scent of alcohol and sweat, with the faint scent of a woman’s perfume stained into his clothes. The boy was young, but he wasn’t a fool. His Auntie scolded his father often about that smell.

“He warned me to never become an adventurer. Always said it was dangerous and didn’t pay much, but he still told me stories and brought me strange objects- relics of the places he had explored.” The boy reached to his neck, his fingers finding a thin rope. Dangling from it was a white stone. It looked much like a long white fang.

“My father said that this was a stone instrument used by an extinct race called the Ulnoc.” The boy turned around and held it up towards the golden eyes, letting the creature see it- if it even cared. The pale white object had a thin, cone shape, with small carvings of people and a language he couldn’t read etched into its sides. “He said the Ulnoc were a race similar to Elves, but a lot smarter… And a lot more peaceful.” The boy returned the artifact into his shirt and frowned. “He said it was a good luck charm little kids carried with them to ward off bad spirits. Funny, isn’t it? Really works well against creatures of your size.” The boy let out a faint chuckle, wincing as his lungs throbbed.

The boy looked up at the yellow eyes for a moment, quietly peering into the sixteen dots in hopes of some kind of response. Of course, getting none, he shook his head and let go of the relic. The boy just turned and continued to walk, trudging forward through the Ravine. He started counting his steps again, kicking rocks as he went along. He wondered what number would be his last.

“My dad told me he had found a Guardian in some ruins he and his friends had found. It was an intelligent creature that could communicate. Rather than fight, the Guardian said it was there just to ensure no one evil came for the Ulnoc treasures. After seeing the type of person my father was, it had deemed them worthy, I guess. So, in exchange for spreading the knowledge of the Ulnoc’s existence, the Guardian let my father and his friends take a few relics.” The boy’s right hand clawed at the rock wall. He gripped the stone and his head drooped as he squeezed his teeth together. Frustration set in. What did he think was going to happen, climbing down into this place? Especially after hearing all of those warnings from other passing Adventurers and even his father telling him never to even get close to the Ravine.

“I guess I was hoping you might be the same. Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” The boy stopped once more, then turned around to face the creature. His hands curled into fists as he sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to die here! I just wanted to see if the floor of the Ravine existed!” He shouted, his voice booming through the space. His voice thundered into the nothingness around him. He could hear the pained emotion in the echoes.

“They all told stories! Stories of great things down here! Of beautiful fairies, of beautiful waterways! They told me that there were animals and beautiful lights! Crystals that glowed in the dark! Gems that you could see yourself in!” As the emotions leaked out, the boy began to sob. He dropped to his knees and then slumped to his side with his back against the wall. He pulled his knees into his chest and coughed as his eyes squeezed closed. Cold streaks of tears began falling into his clothes as he trembled against the rock.

“I just wanted to be like my Dad and see more than sand, but I’m no adventurer… I’m just a runt, a stupid kid with stupid dreams and stupid hopes…” The boy dropped his forehead against his knees and continued to sob into the void, letting his tears and nose run freely as the steps of the Guardian finally began to close in. It seemed his time was up. The boy squeezed his eyes together and drew into himself tightly, his legs and arms trembling as he shied away from the inevitable pain.

“Child…” A deep, raspy voice filled the space and the boy froze. That wasn’t his whimpering or his thoughts.

“....Child…” It repeated, beckoning for his attention. The boy slowly turned his head upward, toward the sound. A large figure hovered over him, less than a few feet away- the beast was just out of reach of his fingers. The sixteen yellow eyes were so close he could see the black outlines of small rings within them.

“...Will you not walk further?” The voice asked. From the direction and the sound of chittering, the boy recognized that it was coming from the creature. It struggled to speak in his language but it was doing quite fine for something of its size.

“Why should I? There’s nothing here but rock! There are no gems or crystals…” The boy pressed his lips together and stared down at the ground. He kicked a few rocks from around his feet and sniffled. “They all lied to me… Every one of them.”

“You are right. There are no gems. No crystals. No jewels or treasures. There is neither water nor animal here.” The creature took in a noticeable breath as it paused.

“Only I remain in this place. Like you, I was lied to. Trapped by Adventurers within this pit and cursed to eternity within its walls.” The creature lifted itself up, its eyes retreating into the dark before its legs began to lower it to the floor. The boy listened as the large body came down from the wall. It settled in front of him, its heavy mass settling on the ground before it spoke once more.

“I have searched for a way out for centuries, only to be thwarted by magical barriers and a Gate which opens only for the worthy.” The beast heaved and breathed, seeming to struggle with its words. Human language must have been difficult. The boy could only imagine what lengths it was going to so it could speak.

“You do not belong in this place, Child. You came here on a whim, seeking a beauty that does not exist. The fire of your life is far too bright to be snuffed out over such foolishness.” The beast let out a deep chuckle, and the boy could hear chittering- likely its jaws tapping together as it laughed.

“I have seen many like you, but all of them came with far worse intentions. Since I have been in this place, only one has succeeded at The Gate.” The boy stared at the beast. In that moment of pause, the old man he’d seen came to mind. Was he the one? That could be the only explanation.

“Then… is there a way out?” The boy said, his eyes opening slightly as the faintest glimmer of hope appeared before him. The beast shifted, its eyes dipping slightly in the motion of a nod.

“I know not where it leads, as the Chosen Man never returned to this place. I cannot guarantee your safety, your freedom, nor can I guarantee that it will accept you. And should you fail, I cannot help you out of this hell.” The beast shifted, and then the eyes rose off the ground. “But, I can guide you to it.” There were several heavy clicks and the rocks around the space all shifted as the creature returned to its raised posture. The boy stared at the eyes, then lowered his head.

The creature remained quiet, likely waiting for a response. The boy sat there, thinking, mulling over what to do. He had come this far, hadn’t he? He would die if he did nothing and while he didn’t quite trust this creature, what did he have to lose? If it had nefarious intentions, then it would kill him either way. But, it had given him a chance. A choice. How could he dare to call himself an Adventurer if he didn’t at least try? Because that’s what Adventurers did. Until the very end, they did whatever they could. Right, Father?

After a few more moments, the decision was made. The boy’s hands spread and he grabbed at the wall. Slowly, painfully, he forced himself once more to his feet. The air licked at his nearly numb legs and pain coursed through his body. This would be his last gasp.

“P-Please… I… I want to try!” The boy shouted, clenching his fists at his sides as he stepped away from the wall. Both determined and desperate, he had no other option.

“Spoken like a true Adventurer…” The beast hissed and then the eyes lowered again. The boy suddenly felt something brush against his stomach- a strong, hard, hairy limb. “Climb onto my back. I shall bring you to The Gate.”

After hesitating and taking a few extra seconds to let his brain process what was happening, the boy nodded before slowly climbing up the limb. It was long and stiff, the hairs tickled at his exposed skin. Yet, it was oddly warm as he clawed up the carapace onto the beast’s back. He found a small space to sit in just behind its head and he gripped what felt like a gap in its hard outer shell. Once he was settled, the beast began to walk. The fangs of the creature chittered and a faint heat began to radiate from its shell. The boy shivered as the warmth thawed away at the ice in his bones.

“Do you have a name?” The boy asked after the beast began its trek. The beast lifted off the ground and its feet stretched up into the space between the walls again. Nimbly, it began to navigate the Ravine’s maw.

“A name…?” The creature paused. Its body seemed to vibrate as it thought. “Long ago my kin called me Chul E’tana or Black Exile in your tongue. We are not given names like your kin. We are given titles when we achieve great things or return from battle. I earned mine when I lost my family and was left behind to die.”

“I’m sorry,” The boy frowned and gently rubbed at the fuzzy shell beneath him. He hadn’t expected such an explanation but the faint trace of sadness in the words resonated with the boy.

“That sounds… terrible.” As they walked, the boy stared down at the silhouette of the beast. After contemplating whether he should ask his next question, he took the chance and opened his mouth. “Do you hate them? Those that left you behind.”

A harsh question, but one he felt he needed to ask. His father had abandoned him and that certainly was a sore spot. The boy wondered if the creature felt the same. He was answered only by silence. The beast rumbled beneath him for quite some time. When the boy suspected he may not get an answer at all, the rumbling stopped.

“I did. For a long, long time, I despised them all.” The beast let out another rumble, its fangs chittering for a few breaths. “But time has made me wiser, has made me more understanding of their decision. I learned to survive in this place and how to fight. I became my own strength. Exile is a word of power to me and I carry it like a prideful scar. I am Chul E’tana, and my kin will fear the name on the day I return to the surface.” The beast let out another deep chuckle as it walked, likely enjoying the thoughts of terror it would bring upon those that had left him behind. Should it ever be freed, that is. At that moment, the boy had an idea.

“What if…” The boy started. “What if I can get you out? What if the Gate opens for you, too?” Where he expected some kind of surprise or joy, he was met with laughter. What was funny?

“The Gate has denied me, Child. I have tried many times. Even when the Chosen One passed through. He had said the same to me, but I am unworthy.” The beast sighed and chittered. “Unworthy and abandoned here in the dark. Eternity is all that awaits me. To atone for my sins, I will at least provide you a chance. One that I do not deserve anymore.”

Recognizing the feeling of acceptance, the boy couldn’t help but clench his jaw and stare down at the large body beneath him. The creature had done the same thing he had. It had come into the Ravine, become unable to leave, and accepted its fate within the maw. Only it had survived down here. Likely for far, far longer than the boy could ever imagine. The boy could only wonder how painful that must have been. How lonely the creature must have felt. To have been abandoned and left to fend for itself, then trapped in this kind of place. Truly a sad tale of a life.

For the remainder of the ride, he sat in silence, thinking of a way to help the creature. While it was big and scary, Chul had been cast away just like the boy had. Their stories were far different, but he felt empathy. His chest tightened at the idea of being able to walk free while the creature remained behind. There had to be something…

“We are here…” Chul E’tana rumbled, cutting the boy’s thoughts as he lowered slowly to the floor. The long cut of the Ravine stretched onwards off to the right, but they seemed to have turned into some kind of cavern within its depths.

The boy couldn’t see where they had come from or where they had turned, but the heavy steps of the beast echoed a lot louder in the confined space. As Chul E’tana walked into the cavern, marching diligently into the maw, a faint blue began to radiate off the walls. The boy could finally see again, somewhat. Even more so as they moved around a curve and that faint blue filled the boy’s eyes. On the other end, a massive door that was carved into the rock was brightly illuminated by pulsing blue veins in the walls surrounding it. The sigils on their flat sides maintained a solid blue hue only growing stronger as the two approached.

Because of the light, the boy could finally see the beast beneath him. An Arachkin. Chul E’tana was a sturdy, massive black Arachkin with a thick black coat of fur covering his exoskeleton. In several places near the ends of the long limbs, the boy could see scars and marks where adventurers had likely tried to cut into the hard shell. There were burn marks, arrowheads lodged into several locations, and there were even cracks in certain places. Whether those cracks were from age, battle, or a lack of nutrients, the boy did not know. He knew he should have been scared of such a sight. Instead, he was in awe.

Chul E’tana stopped a safe distance from the door and then lowered his body down to the floor. He let out a faint coo, ushering the boy to come down from the perch. During their trip, the heat radiating from the Arachkin had helped thaw the boy’s limbs. Moving was much easier and the rest from sitting helped rejuvenate his body a bit. His legs were still sore, but he found it much easier to climb down from Chul’s back now that he could feel his fingers again.

The boy carefully slid off the Arachkin’s back and then took a few steps towards the shining blue entrance. He stared up at the massive doors and clenched his fists. The Arachkin hadn’t lied to him, unlike those from the surface. And for that, he was grateful. Chul had given him a chance, and he would do his best not to squander it. With that in mind, he turned back to face Chul E’tana, catching the sight of the spider inching back towards the darkness. Almost as if it pained him to be so close to the blue glow.

“Chul…” The boy called out, and the spider paused. “I’m… I’m Jake!” Jake shouted and took a few paces towards the creature. Chul’s fangs chittered as he lowered down into a dark corner, far away from the light of the doors.

“A boring title,” The creature let out a low rumble, a laugh. “Jake of the Humankin. This is where our friendship ends. Should your trial fail, know that you will perish here. Understand that I can help you no further.” Perish, also known as to become food. Jake understood what would happen if for whatever reason this trial ended not in his favor. If those doors didn’t open, Chul would eat him. Jake was the only thing the Arachkin could eat down here. But… there was always a chance. As long as Jake kept trying, he had to believe in that chance.

Jake’s fists tightened and he nodded, acknowledging that he understood. As Chul watched from behind him, Jake stepped up to the doors. A few meters in front of them a raised circular platform jutted out from the floor. On it, a sigil was carved into the rock. The carving matched the one on the doors. Jake stared at the marking for a moment as he quelled the racing thoughts. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He stepped up onto the platform and let the tension in his muscles ease. As he exhaled, he felt the weight of his body fade. The floor beneath him began to glow faintly, swallowing him up in a veil of light.

“Speak your cause and let Us be the judge of your heart.” A fierce voice full of power, one that was hard to discern whether it was male or female, echoed into his head. It drowned out everything else and sent a chill down his spine. Jake stood there, afraid and worried about what to do next. If he said the real reason he had come to the Ravine, would he be denied? Or should he lie? Maybe if he said something heroic and more fitting for a Hero he might be given entrance. He tried to think of something an adventurer would say, something a knight would say.

Except… All he could think of were the distant words of his father. Traits his old man had tried to instill into him when he was young, in between his stints of abandonment. He had told the boy to be kind, caring, and share with those who could not. The old man had warned him to never shy away from a fight, but to never instigate one. To be brave and bold when others may cower or hide. To take care of those he cared for with all he had, and to be tough and firm even when things looked bleak. Flimsy things to be shared from a man whose eyes were always on the next adventure, from a man who couldn’t even be a proper parent. Jake had listened, and Jake had learned. While his father wasn’t wrong in his teachings and Jake understood their meanings, that still didn’t make the leaving hurt any less.

Jake opened his eyes and found himself standing in a dark space, the air around him alight with a blue flame. Before him were two floating faces carved from stone. They stared at him, stoic, waiting for his answer.

“I’m here because… because I want to become an Adventurer!” Jake shouted, clinging to the one true desire he had in his heart. The desire to see grand, beautiful things. To make friends in far-off lands. To conquer battles that no one would ever believe! He wanted to experience the stories his father had shared with him, and he wanted to one day share his with a child of his own. Most of all he wanted to be a better man than his father ever could be. He wanted to show his Father that not only would Jake be a better Adventurer, but he would do it without ditching his own family for it.

The two faces floated there, silent, for a long time. The air crinkled and the blue lights flickered slightly. The sigil at the boy’s feet pulsed and the lights were pulled down into it. Jake watched as the lights danced within the lines of the stone until finally, they went out. Jake looked up towards the two faces as the black veil around him faded. They too disappeared as the doors remerged into his view. Where the two faces had been floating, the sigils on the doors returned.

“You may pass.” Whatever being was in his head spoke calmly, finalizing the decision. In response, the doors in front of him flashed brightly. The floor quaked as the heavy stone doors began to split apart. Jake recoiled, covering his eyes to keep himself from being blinded by the light. On each side of the doorframe, two large pits ignited with blue flames, as if acknowledging the result of the voice’s decision.

“Wait!” Jake interrupted the show, stepping to the edge of the raised platform. He stared into the light as it began to dim, hoping whatever within it was still there. And that it was listening. “Please! Let Chul through as well!” His plea echoed into the air, his voice cracking through the void.

“Boy…” The spider rumbled quietly at his back. Jake clenched his fists and stared at the lights, his eyes searching for something to yell at.

The lights dimmed for a moment, and all motion of the doors stopped.