Cian fell freely through the air after he leaped out of the passage. He panicked until he saw the massive, circular pool of water waiting below. The water embraces him—its coldness stings his body as the fall plunges him deeply into the pool. He moves his arms and legs to halt his descent and kicks to swim to the surface. As he breaks through the water with a loud gasp, he can hear similar noises around him. Cian glances at each of his companions to find them breathing heavily; otherwise, they appear to be fine. He then notices that the trembling has stopped, before surveying their surroundings and seeing a large cavern with a bridge connecting one side. The trestles of the bridge are long and hefty-looking, and they dip out of sight into the pool. Its walkway appears wide enough for a horse-drawn cart, and the only concern is that there are no handrails. A naturally occurring rocky ledge runs along the left side from where they came. It is roughly several meters long, and this is where the bridge is connected. Following the bridge's path, on the other side of the cavern, is what he thinks is an entrance to another passage. Fortunately for them, leading up to the rocky ledge, there is a constructed scaffolding with three levels and ladders connecting each level. The third level is a short pier, not that far for them to swim to.
“Who built this?” Keegan asked, having swum closer to Cian. “Was it your people, Wukong?”
Wukong joined them but kept his eyes on the bridge. “It is possible. The authenticators could have contracted Noctua to build the bridge for them. However, this does not appear to be their work. They are prideful, and their engineering will reflect this; while this bridge is sound, it is not professional.”
“Whoever built it did us a favor, and it must mean ahead is the way out,” Cian says optimistically. He swims toward the pier with a revived vigor in every stroke of his limbs. He is about to reach the wooden planks, his hand stretching out to grasp the ledge, when there is another series of tremors. The tremors reverberate across the water, and Cian tells the others to hurry up and get out. All three of them are drenched but safe on the flat surface of the pier. They do not attempt to climb the scaffolding, lest it fall due to the quaking earth. The dock is where they are safe for now, and Cian uses the time to study the water. Something had the hairs on the back of his neck rise, making his muscles tense.
The trembling ceased, but Cian did not withdraw his gaze from the pool. As in the passage, glowing algae grew in the cavern. The algae covered the walls, scaffolding, bridge, and just underneath the water’s surface. The light allowed Cian to see a dark shadow rising, causing the water to ripple. Then, the surface broke—a mound of water rising before falling away to reveal an Abaia Eel.
Abaia Eels are found across the oceans and are adapted to both warm and cold climates. They are the only eels that can grow to twenty-four meters long and weigh up to six and a half metric tons. Their mouths are full of sharp, pointed teeth, and they have an additional set in the back of their throats. Due to their nearsighted vision, they hunt through vibrations in the water, and despite their size, they can prove to be stealthy. Looking past their more monstrous features, Abaia Eels are considered beautiful due to their iridescent skin, which mimics the colors of a rainbow.
Cian cannot comprehend why an Abaia Eel would be here. Lake Kai is a freshwater lake that does not connect to the ocean. It should be impossible for the eel to survive the lack of salt content in the water, not to mention there would not be ample prey for it to feed on. These eels feast on Titan Gourami, a fish large enough to satisfy their hunger, and Cian knows none live in Lake Kai. It makes him wonder if the eel had to adapt or die; there are apparent signs of stunted growth, which does not say much, as it is still massive. Whatever the reason, the creature is there and has come seeking prey, the trembling or their swimming having called it to the surface.
“No sudden movements,” Cian whispers. “If we keep soft-footed, we won’t attract its attention.”
“They have a keen sense of smell, Idiot,” Wukong admonished. The boy’s hand inches toward the sheath on his back, preparing to withdraw his nodachi. “Even with our dip in the water, it can scent us.”
As if to prove Wukong correct, the eel swivels its head in the children’s direction and makes a clicking noise by grinding its teeth, an unsettling sound that echoes off the cavern walls, deep into their bones. The eel then glides through the water, deliberate in its movement, and Cian finds it eerie that such a large creature can creep so silently, not even causing a ripple in the water. It is obvious the eel is trying not to startle them, hoping to strike before they move, but contrary to Wukong’s belief—Cian is not that moronic. “If it can smell us, then what we do doesn’t matter! Climb as quickly as you can!”
The children forgo the ladder and simply scale the side of the scaffolding, their movements quick as they reach the second level. They do the same for the first level, reaching it just as the eel bears down on them. The boys scatter as a giant open mouth snaps at their previously occupied space. A cacophony of aggressive clicking fills the cavern as the eel attempts to scent them again, allowing the children to make a direct line for the bridge. They ran maybe ten feet across the bridge before the eel made another strike at them. The bulk of the eel ramming into the bridge causes the structure to shudder, causing Cian to become unbalanced. He falls prone, indirectly saving himself from the eel’s bite as it had chosen him as its target, which, unfortunately, put Keegan in the direct path of the creature. Cian calls out to his brother in warning, and Keegan responds by jumping just as the eel's jaws are about to clamp down on him. It was a life-saving reaction, but what Keegan had not anticipated was landing on top of the eel’s snout.
Cian thinks his brother will be flung off, but he watches as Keegan thinks quickly and unsheaths his sword to plunge it into the creature's flesh. Keegan holds onto the handle for dear life, using it as an anchor. His actions cause the eel to snap its jaw multiple times in protest before it violently shakes its head to rid itself of Keegan. Not fond of his brother's situation, Cian attempts to get the eel’s attention. He hollers loudly at the creature, waving his arms around in what he hopes is a tempting display. When it continues to ignore him, Cian decides to take drastic measures. In one fluid movement, Cian gets his knife and runs the sharp edge against the palm of his hand. Blood seeps out from the wound, spilling delicious droplets, and Cian waves his hand again to spread the scent. His plan works; the eel gives him its undivided attention. Without further pause, the creature lunges forward, and Cian braces himself to jump as Keegan did. Only he does not need to. Before the eel could get at him, Wukong stepped in front of Cian, bringing up his sword to block the attack and then striking out with a series of slashes.
The eel reels back from the pain, blood coating the shimmering skin of its jaw. It lets out another round of clicking, but then something peculiar happens. The eel’s head begins to wobble like it is too heavy to keep up, and its clicking becomes almost lazy in sound. It acted as if it were dazed or tired.
“What did you do to it?” Cian asked, his words holding a tone of wonder in them. He knew Wukong was an exceptional swordsman, but to wound an Adaia Eel so quickly was quite the feat. “I did nothing. You have your brother to thank for that,” Wukong replied, pointing at Keegan, who discarded an empty syringe and pulled out another to inject into the creature.
Although Keegan carries a sword for battle, his favored weapons are poisons and toxins. The Cornucopia contains many books about various plants, insects, and animals that secrete substances to incapacitate their prey or deter predators from harming them. Keegan had ensured that he familiarized himself with every book he could read. He then began experimenting with different combinations to create products he was satisfied with. His research was so extensive that he had even created antidotes with medicinal properties, which the tribe of Halo began to use in their healing methods. He invested so much time in the poisons to compensate for his lack of skill in combat. His concoctions allow him an advantage against the most adept fighters, and there is only one who can match his prowess—everyone else can only suffer the effects of whatever he injects them with. The eel is no different.
It is a testament to Keegan’s ingenuity that his poisons are effective enough against a giant animal like an Abaia Eel without worrying about them diluting as they spread throughout the body.
After Keegan empties his last syringe from his pouch, the boy jostles his sword free from the eel’s flesh and leaps off it. He lands with a roll on the bridge, and Cian goes over to see if he is okay. “Did you kill it?” Cian asked, helping Keegan to his feet. The boy shakes his head. “I don’t know… I used every syringe and then created another wound to pour all my vials. All that seems to have done is disorient the beast.”
“That is well enough,” Wukong said. “We must leave while it is incapacitated.”
Cian helps Keegan to his feet and then shoves him forward as they begin to run. They retreat down the bridge, and Cian takes the rear to keep an eye on the eel. The creature was still dazed when it slowly sank back into the water. Either Keegan had killed it, or the beast had gone unconscious. No matter the outcome, it brought relief to the children that they would be safe, seeing as they passed the halfway point of the bridge. It was not much longer until the end was mere meters away, but they could not celebrate.
The eel shoots out of the water like an arrow cutting through the air, nearly touching the cavern's roof before falling back in line with the bridge. Cian reacted quickly and did a double-handed push against Keegan and Wukong, sending them far ahead while he jumped backward. The eel came crashing against the bridge, splintering the wood from the force of the impact, and it cut through the structure, separating Cian from his companions. For a terrifying moment, each half of the bridge wavered from the destruction, seeming almost as though it would collapse, but eventually, it stopped moving. This left Cian alone as the eel recovered from the fall, lifting its head to peer at him as its bloody jaws opened and snapped.
“Leave without me!” Cian shouts to the others. Keegan and Wukong could escape, and Cian would rather face the eel alone than keep them in danger. His brother, on the other hand, has contradictory thoughts. “You can’t hope to fight that beast on your own!” Keegan calls back, the hand gripping his sword turning white. Cian grits his teeth as the eel’s teeth begin to click excitedly. “We can still work together! If we synchronize our attacks, that might give us an advantage!”
If they were fighting on land and not dealing with water, the eel’s natural territory, then Cian would have considered Keegan’s words. Their environment is not ideal, and as talented as he and Wukong are, they will surely make mistakes that will cost them. “Wukong, take my brother and leave,” Cian said, his body going into a hunched position. He has a plan that he prays will work because he wants what he says next to be the truth. “All of us will survive—just have faith.”
After Cian speaks the last words, he rushes to the side of the bridge and jumps off with the eel in relentless pursuit. Cian catches himself by stabbing his knife into one of the support beams underneath, narrowly missing the eel’s gaping maw. The eel corrects its miscalculation and swerves for another attack, something Cian expected it to do. He frees his knife and jumps between the trestles—his movements precise, and the threat of being eaten if he slips at the forefront of his mind. Cian guides the eel to weave through the beams in a disorganized pattern. He crisscrosses, then moves up and down, entangling the creature further in his trap. Once satisfied, Cian goes outside the trestles and climbs up one of the beams to get onto the bridge. The eel attempts to follow, its head still free and moving, but it fails when it lunges at Cian. Although it can move its head, the same cannot be said for the rest of its body, the trestles acting as a snare. Cian triumphantly smiles as he hears the angry clicking from the eel.
The smile slips when he turns around to see Keegan and Wukong standing on the other half of the broken bridge. “I told you to leave!” Cian disgruntledly shouts.
“Your brother did not want to abandon you,” Wukong countered.
“We didn’t want to abandon you,” Keegan corrects,
There is an argument on the tip of Cian’s tongue, but before he can spew it, the bridge underneath him tilts sharply to one side. Rage-filled clicking emanates from underneath the bridge’s floor as the eel tries desperately to break free from its confines. The eel thrashes wildly, each shift of its body rattling the support beams until one breaks off. Its tail comes free and splashes into the water. “You need to jump!” Keegan said, and he did not need to tell Cian twice. The boy takes a few steps back to give himself a running start and puts away his knife before charging down the bridge. He has to perform quick footwork because the ground shifts beneath him. Cian maintains his balance, and when he reaches the ledge, he pushes off with one leg, launching himself into the air. Despite the vast distance and the eel’s unintentional sabotage, Cian lands gracefully just behind his awaiting companions. “We have to go before that thing breaks free!” Cian said, sprinting forward the moment he landed on the bridge. He does not even wait to see if the others are following him. They are—and together, all three run down the rest of the bridge and reach the open passage at the end. There is an audible groan, followed by a violent splintering sound, before a loud crash is heard behind them.
—————
They move deeper into the passage, wanting enough distance between them and the eel, although it cannot fit through the opening. The three boys stop to rest only when the sounds of furious clicking become distant. Cian slumped against the nearest wall and peered around him at the new passage they had just entered. Unlike the previous passage, this one is smaller, allowing only two people to walk side by side comfortably, and the roof is low. Had they been adults, Cian imagines their heads would be on the verge of scraping the roof. The same algae illuminate it, but the algae are sparse, offering less light than they have grown accustomed to. The other difference in this passage is that it follows a gradual incline, which further encourages Cian’s opinion that they must be getting close to escaping.
“What do you think? Will there be another eel at the end of this passage, or will we face something different?” Cian asks jokingly. “Maybe a shark?”
“I want to know if the authenticators had to face that monster as well,” Keegan says, re-sheathing his sword before slumping against the wall near Cian. “Unless that thing came after they explored this area.”
“Someone must have released it here after the exploration,” Wukong said. The boy wipes the blade of his nodachi on his tunic to rid it of the eel’s blood before he sheaths it. “That is the only explanation I can think of. A newborn Adaia Eel measures seven meters and is hard to miss. They are also vivacious, even at a young age, hunting with abandon. My people would have documented it if one had been here. A saltwater creature living in refreshing water and somehow thriving is not to be overlooked. I assume someone transported the eel across land and freed it into the lake. It must have gotten caught in the same underwater whirlpool and swum down the river into the pool we crossed. For what reason that person released it, I do not know.”
Cian became thoughtful, but eventually, his exhaustion from encountering the eel cleared his mind, so all he could think about was resting. “How about we rest here for a bit?” Cian suggested, already slinking to the floor to lie down. “Whoever brought the eel here might have brought another animal with them. We’ll need our strength if we hope to stand against it.”
“I’m with my brother,” Keegan says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Instead of responding, Wukong rested against the opposite wall, sitting cross-legged on the ground. He brought the sheath of his nodachi forward, angling it in his lap so that he could rest his head against it. By this point, Cian had lain on the ground and was sound asleep. Keegan, meanwhile, mimicked Wukong’s stance before falling asleep as well.
—————
The children rested for a good two hours before waking. Upon returning to consciousness, they met about how to handle the current passage. The primary issue they faced was that this passage lacked a river with fish alongside it. Since Cian had neglected to count the passing days, he was unsure how long they had traveled. This passage could be the final stretch of their journey or be miles more. Ultimately, they agreed to keep walking until they could no longer walk. They would be taking every step in faith, trusting the Lord would allow them to see open skies again.
Cian led the march up the steady incline, followed by Keegan and Wukong. As they walked, he noticed the diminishing glow from the algae. The passage became darker as the light source eventually petered out due to the algae not growing past a certain point. They were in complete darkness for quite a while, their fingertips tracing along the wall as a guide. They kept going until Cian saw a new glow of light up in the distance, except this glow was a different color than the algae’s. The glow ahead was a softer yellow, and it seemed to dance like the flickering light from a fire, and that thought had Cian giddy. Fire meant people, and people meant the end of their underground trial.
“There is light ahead,” Cian whispered to the others, stopping them from progressing. “We'll practice caution this time around.”
They act smarter, keeping their steps feather-light and walking on the balls of their feet to create less noise. Slowly, they inch their way forward—the way ahead growing brighter. Eventually, they make it to the end of the passage, and Cian studies the new cavern before crossing into it. The cavern is irregular in shape; its roof is high, its floor uneven but cleared, and torches are mounted to the walls in a scattered fashion. Speaking of the walls, the one on the far left has a short, chiseled stone column in front of it, holding something minuscule and shiny. The wall on the far right is a chaotic mess of hay, blankets, piles of books, papers, and a cauldron that stands over a flameless mound of wood. The most prominent piece is the wall in front, which has a triangle etched into the stone with worrying dark spots at each point of the triangle. Besides those details, Cian could see no other opening anywhere—this was it.
“It's empty,” Cian says, walking into the cavern. “I don't— This can't be it?”
“We must have overlooked something,” Wukong said as he followed. “These torches were not placed by themselves. Perhaps there is a hidden doorway here or in the passage we came from.”
“We did have to go through pitch darkness at one point,” Keegan points out. “Maybe we need to return and run our hands along the walls?”
Cian nodded at Keegan's suggestion because it was the most logical course of action. Judging by the makeshift bed and other items, a person lives in the cavern, and he cannot imagine anyone willingly living underground without access to the surface. “Let's return. We're wasting enough time here,” Cian tells them. He turns and stops short when he sees a grown man hanging off the back wall. The man has his legs drawn up, holding his knees with one arm while the other holds onto a handle protruding from the wall. The man pulls on the handle and dislodges it from the wall, revealing that it is a handle for a knife. He then drops down, crouched, blocking their only means of escape.
Cian had been afraid of the eel. They would have paid with their lives if they had not been mindful of its ferociousness. His fear was a healthy one, reminding him to be respectful of the creature's power. This was different. What Cian felt coursing through his blood as he looked upon the man, turning it icy, was not fear. No—what Cian felt was soul-wrenching terror.
His skin is a rich olive color, sun-kissed as if he spent most of his time above ground and not under it, as would be inferred. His eyes were almond-shaped and sharp, and their crimson color burned with wild excitement. His beard was trimmed nicely, accentuating the strong and angular shape of his jaw. He is dressed in simple robes that do not bear the colors of a particular tribe or insignia, marking him as a clansman, although there is also no clan insignia to behold. The robes are fitted around the chest before flowering at the bottom, showcasing the man's lean stature. The man's thick and slightly wavy hair cascades over his shoulders, part of it tied in a neat bun to keep it from covering his face. Its long length reaches his waist, and there is a pleasing sheen as it catches the light of the torches. Such beauty, black as obsidian and void of purity, is the hair of someone who practices sinful cultivation—a demonic art that separates one from holiness. Their souls are stained by whatever means will defy God, and they are not to be trifled with. The tribe of Nemesis has always captured anyone on the verge of obsidian. They are responsible for preventing the world from breaking out into another war. Then how was it that they overlooked this man? How was it that the authenticators never turned him in? Unless…
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Cian is unable to finish his thoughts because the man charges them. On instinct, the boy grabs his knife and raises it in time to parry the man’s attack—their eyes locking, giving Cian a glimpse into the man’s unhinged nature. The speed at which the man moved was almost otherworldly, and Cian had to ground his feet as his legs threatened to buck under the pressure applied by the man. Up close, Cian can see the man’s blade is a thing of brutal elegance. It features a single-edge blade with subtle ridges that hint at a specialized forging technique, designed for both cutting and endurance. Its tip is angled into a clip point, making it ideal for piercing and slashing. Along its spine ran a slight serration—just enough to tear through rope or flesh, as is the likely intention of the man. The metal is stained with remnants of what appears to be dried blood, similar in color to the spots on the back wall, making Cian wonder how many victims this knife has seen in its lifetime.
Coming to his aid, Keegan and Wukong attacked with their respective swords, intending to land a series of slashes across the man’s back. The man shifts, switching places with Cian, which causes the other boys to redirect their attacks to the ground to avoid hitting him. Cian does not appreciate being made a human shield, so he retaliates by snapping his leg back for a brutal backward kick. The man’s blade blocks his heel, and Cian attempts to counter by jumping and twisting his body to send his leg into a forward kick. Again, the man’s knife thwarts his attack. At least Cian managed to distract the man, leaving him open to an attack of opportunity from Wukong, who came in low to swipe at the man’s legs. Keegan, meanwhile, aims high, his sword's trajectory taking it on a path to the man’s neck. In one fluid maneuver, the man flipped Cian back, giving his knife the freedom to deflect Keegan’s blade while he jumped over Wukong’s. The man then focuses on Keegan, overwhelming the boy with a flurry of attacks from his knife, eventually knocking Keegan’s sword out of his hand. The disarmament of his sword left Keegan stunned, allowing the man to grab him by the shoulders and bodily throw him against the back wall.
When Keegan’s back touches the stone, he does not slide down it as expected; instead, he becomes attached to the wall. Then, the boy begins to panic when the wall seems to come alive; pieces of it detach and wrap around his wrists and ankles like stone shackles. Cian’s lips parted slightly in awe at the spectacle before he quickly returned to the present. He attempts to free his brother from his odd confinement, but is blocked by the man fighting off Wukong. It was as if the man purposefully directed the fight with Wukong to impede Cian, not that it mattered, because it encouraged Cian to rejoin the fight and worry about rescuing Keegan later.
As much as Cian and Wukong are seen as enemies, always on opposing sides to see who is best, they are remarkable when they work together. Perhaps it is because they have learned the other’s techniques from their constant sparring. However it came to be, Cian could read Wukong's movements and plan accordingly. Likewise, with a simple nod, Wukong comprehended Cian's intentions. This familiarity allows them to become a force to be reckoned with as they bear down on the man. Of course, this is not to say the man has trouble countering the children's attacks. When Wukong came in with a spinning strike, the man caught the long blade with his own. Even as Cian tries to capitalize on the opening created by Wukong, the man's hand is too swift. It strikes Cian as uncanny how the man predicts what they will do because that is how it comes across to him. He would think it is the man’s combat instinct, but there is a sloppiness to some of his movements—mistakes that Teacher Barnabus would scold a student for making, yet the hand wielding the knife moves with a seasoned grace. The man fought like a contradiction, and he was winning.
Wukong soared overhead, moving in for a downward slash while Cian distracted the man with a frontal assault. At least he thought he was distracting him, but the man surprised the two boys by flicking his wrist and sending the knife up to push Wukong’s sword off course. The knife then ricocheted and struck Cian in the thigh. Cian’s knees buckled before his legs gave out underneath him—the blade of the man’s knife embedded to the hilt. White-hot, agonizing pain traveled up his leg, causing the boy to cry out in anguish. It had cleanly sliced through muscle and sinew, and the pain clouded Cian’s senses—his weapon clattering to the ground. The commotion caused Wukong to look over, and he failed to defend against the man's grasping hands. The man grabbed Wukong by his robes, bunching up the fabric in his fist as he wrenched Wukong off his feet. He then hurls Wukong toward the wall where Keegan was shackled—Wukong’s sword flying away in the process. When Wukong’s back hit the stone wall, pieces of it came free to bind him in the same fashion they bound Keegan.
Their situation spiraled out of hand, and Cian knew he was his party's last hope. He grabbed the handle of the knife in preparation for wrestling it free from his thigh, but when he slid the blade, the serrated portion snagged at his flesh. A new wave of pain overcomes Cian, forcing him to shut his eyes and grit his teeth against it. He is faintly aware of Keegan's voice shouting his name and does not understand why until a kick to his head knocks him over. The man stands above Cian, grinding the heel of his foot into his head as a bubble of laughter escapes him. Then the man speaks.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” the man says, voice clear and soft with emotion. “Hundreds of offerings, countless perversions of my soul, all for this moment. My ascension will be glorious, and you will know how much worse than the Five Founders I should have been!”
Cian made a sound of protest as the side of his head was pushed against the ground. He felt panicked by his unwanted position and the man's words. “It will have to form a pact with me. I'm strong enough. I've cultivated enough. I bested the Lord enough,” the man said, proving Cian's biggest fear. “I am the inheritor!”
The man leaned back and laughed abandonedly, conveying his utter happiness. Such a disgusting sound, Cian thinks. He is going to kill them, and he is laughing. Laughing. This thought ignites a burning within Cian's chest. A new fuel that makes his heart race and numbs the area where he has been stabbed. With epinephrine surging throughout his body, he bends his leg toward his chest and grabs hold of the knife lodged inside him. He rips it out violently, blood splattering on the ground, and the wound seeping. Cian ignores it all as he stabs the man in the side of his leg, allowing him to taste the pain he caused Cian. The man staggers back, growling from the heat in his leg and affording Cian the time to stand to his feet shakily and hobble toward his companions. Along the way, he grabs his knife, and upon reaching Keegan, he uses the handle to hammer away at the boy's stone shackles. The stone crumbles around Keegan’s wrist, and Cian moves on to the other when his hand is free. No sooner does he land the first hit than he hears the man speak again.
“I was denied my ascension then, but I won't be denied again!”
“Free Wukong after!” Cian instructs Keegan, placing the knife in his free hand. The boy turned away, and his eyes landed on Wukong's discarded sword, which was a bit away from him. He rushes for it, and when he nears it, he drops to avoid an attack from the man, sliding across the floor and reaching the sword. Once Cian's hand wrapped around the nodachi’s hilt, he stood to face the man. His leg is still bleeding. Cian is not looking forward to the second round.
—————
Keegan keeps glancing between his shackled wrist and his brother as he fights the man. Even injured on one leg, Cian fights fiercely, performing techniques that must cause him agony. It kindles Keegan's respect for his brother while also kindling his fear. He works vigorously to free himself of the last shackle, hearing the sound of steel meeting steel. When he finally breaks apart the stone, there comes a deathly silence before a smack, then an audible crack. Keegan looks up to Cian, who is sent flying across the room. He lands on the floor with a solid thump.
“You try patience I never had!” the man yells. He begins to walk backward and continues spewing words of ire at Cian. “I should have you whimpering in fear like the children you are! I'm the heir, and you will see it! My time has come, and it will acquiesce to my will!”
The man turns and hobbles toward the short pillar where something glistens in the torchlight. “Keegan, you must free me! You cannot fight him alone!” Wukong's voice echoed throughout the cavern. His words fall on deaf ears as the only thing running through Keegan's mind is how small Cian looks. His brother is curled into himself, clutching at his chest—the crack he heard must have been Cian's ribs breaking. Keegan cannot stand anyone bringing harm to his family, and now the man is planning something that will surely be worse. Whatever it involves is on the pillar; if that man wants it, so must Keegan. He moves without realizing it.
Although Wukong's pleading alerted the man, it still was not enough for him to plant his feet and block the sideways shove from Keegan. The boy had come at the man from the side where his leg was injured, providing him enough of an advantage to topple the man over. With the man falling to the floor, Keegan went to the pillar. On top, reflecting the torchlight, is a thin needle with a piece of thread tied to the end of it. This is what the man wanted? How can a needle and thread prove to be dangerous? These were Keegan's initial confused thoughts until he noticed something. As he stared at the metal of the needle, the shine coming from it felt like a lure. It called to him—a whisper against his ear, promising victory against the man. All Keegan must do is take the needle and use it. Before his hand can touch it, pain blossoms from his back as the man’s blade cuts through Keegan’s tunic and reaches the flesh underneath. Fortunately for Keegan, the cut is not as deep as it could have been, but that does not mean it hurts any less.
“Do not dare touch my inheritance, you filthy mongrel!”
Keegan has to battle against the pain as he wrestles with the man to reach the needle and thread. Their scuffle turns animalistic as they have forgone tactics in desperation to reach out for the shining item that promises them power. The man’s blade clashed against Keegan’s, and the boy only managed to hold his ground. Keegan never liked fighting with knives, but he does not let this impede him as he brutally attacks the man. The man will have the needle over Keegan’s dead body.
—————
“Cian! If you continue lying there like a beaten mutt, then your brother will die! Get up, you fool!” Wukong yelled. Cian had never heard Wukong’s insults sound so entreating and dread-filled. Wukong was a child who did not plead, which snapped Cian out of his pained, filed daze. His breathing stuttered as he moved his torso—the break grinding and pain flaring until white spots clouded his vision for a moment. He blinked his eyes and attempted to control his breathing. “Stand up!” Wukong continued to yell. Cian wanted to shout that his words were easier said than done, but he knew Wukong would say he was making excuses. The boy would be right. Cian needed to push through the pain he felt and free Wukong so that the man would have to face all three of them again. Only, as he moves to shove an arm underneath him to push himself up, he is stunned by an onslaught of agony.
“Did you not feel it, Cian? That dark shadow that passed over! They are fighting, Cian, for a conduit! If your brother touches whatever is on that pillar, he will not only die in the body, but also in the soul!”
A conduit… How could Wukong be sure there was a conduit in the cavern? Are they not all locked away in The Cornucopia? No, wait, two are said to be missing. One of them had belonged to Shiloh, but it was said to have been lost along with his body and Matriarch Davar’s quill. Had the book been right about a relic in the middle of Lake Kai, just not which relic it was? Then, Cian remembered the shiny object he had seen on the pillar. It had caught his eye because of how the torchlight reflected off of it, but when he realized what it was, he quickly dismissed it.
It had been a needle and thread.
That is Shiloh’s conduit Keegan is scrambling to get a hold of.
Cian did not stay on the ground after the realization hit him. The boy’s mind cleared, and he stood, the broken ribs shifting. He did not dwell on the fact that one wrong move would send a bone piercing through his lungs. His priority was saving his brother, so the boy dashed to Wukong. Along the way, Cian spotted Keegan’s sword and grabbed it without stopping. Cian then ran at Wukong, maneuvering the sword in a quick series of slashes that cut through Wukong’s bindings. “Grab your weapon,” Cian commanded. “Keep my brother away, and I will handle the man.”
Wukong simply nodded at Cian, and together, they went to join in the scuffle between Keegan and the man. It is simple enough for the two boys to break the combatants apart and for Cian to direct the man’s attention to himself. As he did this, he heard Keegan’s audible protest against Wukong physically blocking him. “Move out of the way, Wukong! That man must pay for what he’s done!” Keegan demands loudly.
“Revenge is not worth the price of your soul!” Wukong argues.
“It is if it means he dies!” Keegan spits out. The venom in Keegan’s words almost causes Cian to stumble. He has heard his brother speak like this before and recognizes the seriousness of his tone. His brother intends to kill the man by any means necessary, and that is not something Cian can allow to happen. Cian urgently racks his mind for ideas as he fends off the man, and it is then that it occurs to him how heavily the man relies on the hand wielding the knife. As noted by Cian before, the man is a contradiction in his fighting. His knife-wielding capabilities compensate for his incorrect techniques, but it has never been more pronounced than in this moment. The wound inflicted by Cian has unbalanced the man’s movements, and more than once, he nearly sustains a hit from Cian’s sword if not for his reaction with the knife. If Cian is to win the fight, then he needs to ride the man of the knife.
Cian began aiming all his attacks at the man's arm. The man, of course, would parry all that Cian did, but Cian kept shifting angles. With each swing of his sword, Cian maneuvered so the blade would slide down the knife. He continued to perfect the attack until he hit it just right, and his steel slid against steel without glancing off. The blade of the sword traveled until it bore into the flesh of the man's arm, causing a deep gash that made him drop his weapon. This satisfaction from this small victory is short-lived because the man kicks Cian's sword out of his hand and then kicks Cian in his thigh. The pain Cian had been ignoring flared up to a whole new degree, but he persevered and dove for the man's knife. Once the handle is in hand, Cian spins around as the man runs past him.
During their fight, Cian had not successfully distanced the man from the pillar. Because of this, the man reached the needle quickly, but this did not mean Cian was not far behind. When the man grabbed the needle between his thumb and first finger, Cian grabbed the man by his shoulder.
Time seemed to stand still as an overwhelming atmosphere of malice swept through the cavern. It felt suffocating, and Cian's body reacted violently. He did not know whether he wanted to cry, fall to his knees in despair, or stay still, hoping that whatever was in the cavern would leave him alone. The worst part is the sudden silence. He could not hear anything—not his breathing or the flicker of the torches. It was as if he had gone deaf, but the sound returned, yet the foreboding shadow stayed. “It's here! Finally, a pact will be made. It's my time!” The man cried out. Cian blinked at the man's proclamation. What is with them in the cavern is an evil ready to be used by the first person willing to use it, through this man or Keegan, who redoubles his efforts to get away from Wukong's grasp. Cian understood what he had to do.
The boy has already been fighting through pain—what more is it to fight against fear? He rebukes it, condemning the shadows for trying to influence his body and soul. Cian's spirit bolsters, and the hand gripping the man's shoulder moves up to entangle his fingers in the hair near the scalp. He pulls the man's head back and, in one quick move, slit the man's throat. Blood spews out, covering Cian as the man drops the needle to clutch at his throat in an attempt to quell the bleeding. It is no use as copious amounts of blood flood between the man's fingers, and he gurgles in a choked breath. The man stumbles, knocking the pillar over before falling to the floor. There is one more second of a grotesque bubbling sound before he goes limp—his life coming to an end.
“You killed him,” Keegan says, his voice carrying disbelief. Cian could only swallow as he gripped the knife handle tightly, trying vainly to stop his hand from shaking. The clogging malic from before is gone, and the needle must have fallen somewhere unseen, for Cian does not see the glistening metal. At least, as he glances at Keegan, the other boy does not seem possessed with wanting to search for the conduit. He is more focused on the man's dead body. “Are you alright?” Wukong asked, and Cian nearly jumped. He had not heard him move; now, Wukong was standing before him. Wukong's face was impassive, but Cian could see unsettled worry within the depths of his crimson eyes. Cian never liked to worry anyone. “I'm a bit sore from carrying the fight, as I imagine Keegan is too. Besides that, I'm alright.”
Wukong narrowed his eyes. “I fought as much as both of you.”
Cian smiled—the expression not as lively as it could be, and neither was his joke. Wukong had not come from the fight unscathed. Just below his lip, running down to his chin, is a bloody gash. With the amount of blood smeared, Cian guessed it was deep enough to leave a scar. The wound on his leg surely will, and he had seen the back of Keegan's tunic torn and stained with blood. It appears that all of them will come away with a memento. “Yes, you did, and we survived, but we still have yet to discover the way out.”
“Could the triangle be a clue?” Keegan asked, tearing his eyes away from the man and joining the two. “You saw how it came alive. Maybe we can talk to it?”
The back wall moving on its own had been a detail Cian had not been able to digest. Their fight with the man had taken priority, so Cian had simply set aside the fact that a wall had moved. “Why not?” Cian responds. Their journey has been one bizarre encounter after another, so why would it not end with them speaking to a wall?
They try Keegan's approach, and nothing happens.
What makes the wall foreboding as it stands over them is the triangle. Cian now understands the dark spots at each point to be dried blood, ages old, as told by the discoloration. The man had claimed he killed hundreds, and Cian wants to believe that to be impossible for one person to accomplish. Even if it had only been a handful of victims, he could not fathom the needless bloodshed, yet the triangle is evidence of the sinful things the man did. Cian did not like it. He did not like that they were trapped underground, and he did not like that he had been put in an impossible situation that had him take another's life. The boy ached to feel the sunlight, to be as far as possible from the horrid place. Maybe it is because of his overwhelming emotions that Cian lashed out, striking the wall with the knife he still had yet to let go.
Cian had not been sure what hitting the wall would do. It had occurred to him that he could chip away at it since they had been able to break the shackles. Although digging their way out would take them who knows how long. They did not need to find out because the wall began to tremble when the knife embedded itself like it was cutting into butter. Cian had stuck it toward the lower part with an underhanded stab, and in the center of the triangle, pieces folded away to reveal a hidden crawlspace large enough for them to climb through.
“You stabbed a wall,” Wukong stated. His tone indicated his disbelief. “It worked, but I know you did not think anything would come from it.”
Wukong was correct, but Cian does not feel inclined to say so. Instead, he cautiously pulls the knife out and tilts his head when the opening does not suddenly close. “Who's going first?” Cian asked, his voice not bothering to hide how little he liked the idea. The crawl space can fit them, but does not allow them to go on their hands and knees. Should it narrow, it will force them to crawl along the floor, requiring much strength. He can foresee their struggle, yet their current theme still stands, and it does not matter how tattered they are. He prays none of them become stuck.
Before they climb into the hole, they tend to the wounds Cian and Keegan sustained. Keegan switched his tunic with Wukong’s to protect the wound on his back from dust that might fall in the crawlway. As for Cian, he stripped pieces off his trousers to wrap them tightly around his thigh and staunch the bleeding. His loss of blood made him light-headed, and then there was still the situation with his ribs. The surge of epinephrine from before was already waning, and the pain was returning, but Cian could continue even if his body felt stiff. After they had handled their injuries, they decided on the order of entering the crawlway. Wukong would go first, Keegan would follow after, and Cian would be last. Wukong is broader than the other two but is the second strongest, or comparable to Cian when he is not suffering from a stab wound. Should something happen as they crawl, Wukong is expected to escape without them and retrieve help.
“It is dark,” Wukong commented after lifting himself into the hole in the wall. “I hope you’re not scared of small spaces,” Cian said as he watched Wukong crawl further to make room for Keegan. “Respectfully so. One should never take traversing through tight passages lightly, especially when you cannot see where you are heading.”
“Well, respectfully, I’d appreciate it if the two of you would stop talking,” Keegan snapped. He climbed in after Wukong and kept his back low so as not to scrape it against the roof. “You shouldn’t worry, Keegan. You’re more lithe than we are, so you’re less likely to become stuck,” Cian said as a means of encouragement. His efforts earned him a sharp retort from his brother, but Keegan did not fail to move along, granting Cian enough room for his turn. Cian grabbed the edge of the crawlway with one hand and stopped when he brought up his left. The man’s knife was still securely held in his grip.
Wukong had broken his original blade. In all fairness, he had to if he did not want to be accidentally cut with it when wrestling with Keegan, but that had left Cian without a weapon. The other two boys were leaving theirs behind, not finding it feasible to crawl with them, so Cian chose to keep the man’s knife as he thought it foolish for them to be without any means of protection. His eyes focused on the fresh stans that marred the knife’s blade, then he looked over his shoulder. They had not moved the man’s body, having essentially ignored it in favor of figuring out their escape from the underground. Now that they were leaving, Cian could not help thinking about the man—about how he had readily used the man’s knife against him. It had left a bad taste in his mouth, making him wonder if it would ever go away. Cian blinks as he stares at the man’s body for the final time before pulling himself up, his jaw locking as the movement hurts his chest, but he succeeds and crawls after his brother.
