As Conleth stepped under the vines, and into the mouth of the tunnel, his footsteps rang out against the empty air, the old flagstones shifting softly under his weight, as the darkness of the chasmous passage soon encircled him, leaving little to be seen.
But a step further- and then there was light once more. Not the dim, waning twilight leaking from the tear in the earth above, but vibrant, oscillating, beaming light, as ancient symbols from ages long past sprung to life underneath the old stones, each one humming with newfound energy.
The figure raised out a bloodied hand, dazingly attempting to grasp the staff. Their eyes stared deep into Setara, blinking slowly.
“…Is that you, small one?”
Their voice rang out, like an old, rusted bell.
“How can you be here…in this place?”