Whatever trifling denials came out of the stranger were forgotten as the land split open. Steeling herself, Setara took a side hop to her left and then prepared to launch towards the stranger, if they did not get up and move. If the stranger gets up to flee the land collapsing beneath themselves, Setara will try to get to the side they’re on and in front of them to prevent escape. If they make no attempt to save themselves, then she launches herself directly at them.
It was not weapon first, though in such circumstance appearing as a savior was out of the question. Yet even still, she came at the stranger in attempts to help get them on their feet. Or at least push or drag them so that they would not fall into the growing maw beneath them. Making sure to only touch or grab at the cloak, rather than their body.
Fodgen froze not knowing where the new source of sound was coming from until he felt the ground shake. He dropped to his knees to steady himself.
Yelling out wouldn’t do much, it certainly wouldn’t help the situation. So he moved to stand as the city continued to tremble . Hopefully this would keep him out of any incoming stampede…
Conleth clapped his hands over his ears and stumbled, the shifting of ground finally knocking him to his feet. There was a precipice directly beside him; he did not notice it until the ground at the edge began to shift, and he barely scrambled away in time to avoid getting swallowed.
White as a sheet, he scrambled past Fodbgen and-
…Okay, fine.
“Move!” Conleth grabbed at Fodbgen’s wrist and attempted to drag him away from the growing crevasse. However, despite his strength, he was also very small, and any real effort of Fodbgen’s part could easily lift him off his feet if he really wanted to.
The ancient stone beneath their feet groans, and pieces begin to slide deeper into the schism, as the dais wobbles dangerously against the brink. The wind beneath whips up, stinking of sulfur and dust, and a deep drop. As Conleth wrestles with Fodbgens wrist, and as Tebor’s vision finally sharpens into focus, the dais topples
Into the deep dark.
As Setara attempts to grapple the stranger, the crevasse widens, and the remnants of the road begin to topple inwards, and soon, as she seizes the strangers cloak, they feel the ground gives way, the air starting to pick up, as they turn their gaze down below to the hungry darkness below, and
Conleth’s fight with Fodbgen’s arm quickly turned into Conleth holding onto Fodbgen’s arm for dear life as the world suddenly turned upside down. The dais, that massive structure that seemed so immovable, was now flipped up like a plate and tipped down into the impossible darkness beneath it.
In what most certainly seemed like his final moments, Conleth did not long to see his parents, who had been unable to attend the ceremony. He did not wish for the opportunity to right any wrongs he had committed, or attempt to reach out in prayer to any of the gods for help. There was only one thought that crossed his mind as the void consumed him from all sides.
Why did the crowd gasp at me? What did I do wrong?
In the moment of critical action, when room for thought is small, how does the mind react? For Setara, words were not allowed to remain inside. Her body moved on instinct, her thoughts forced out of her mouth. She told the stranger to rise, to move. Anything along those lines as she grabbed them and get to safety. And when the earth betrayed her, when it pushed her down into the beast below, there was one thing mind and body forced her to do – she screamed.
What sounded like a “NO!” burst from her throat. The kind of devasting lost, the kind one might scream when they just failed. But defeated loss transitioned into terror of final moments. A first cry of death sure to follow.
In desperation, she let go of the stranger, flailing about. Trying to get her staff between to points and wedge itself. Maybe even forced it into the nearest wall of earth to stop her fall, or at least slow her decent. But as the maw widened, there was no way to save herself or anyone. Only void remained. All she could do was fall.
Even still, she forced herself to look up. To see what sky remained visible before she was buried and could no longer gaze upon its beauty. But when she looked, she did not find the comfort of the moon or sun. There was only the comet, watching her death with ravenous delight. Yet - past its victorious and gnashing grin, barely in sight, the black canvas of space still remained. A void, not unlike the one she now descended. And in final hope, turned back to face the darkness and cried out a prayer.
“Your servant is here, please hear me my lord!
Swaddle me in your darkness,
cradle me like a newborn in your arms.
The roots of the mountains come to chain me,
the earth to keep me prisoner, bound from your work.
Claim this void as yours and I shall cling to you.”
Fodbgen upon being sent plummeting delivered a collection of choice vocabulary befitting that of a stable boy.
He grabbed Conleth and wrapped around him as he made the sudden realization that they weren’t just tripping, and were indeed plummeting into the unknown. Hopefully this would at least save the boy from cracking his skull open.
The only sound that greeted her in her cry was silence, the whipping of the wind as she and the stranger spun out of control, falling as the air clawed at their faces, stung their eyes, howled through their ears, as the echo reverberated through the cracked chasm they fell through.
And then? Everything went black.
…
It must have felt like an eternity before Setara’s vision cleared, but as it did, it wasn’t where she may have thought she was.
An image came into focus, smudged lines narrowing into sharp points. Her hearing soon followed, the sound of soft metal ringing in the air. The air smelled faintly of lavender. She was in a small room, not unlike one suited for a child. In a corner was a bed, empty with its covers in a mess, with shelves lining the walls, stuffed with toys and books. There were stars engraved into the walls and the bottoms of the shelves, blocks and stuffed animals littering the floor, and small trinkets and chimes hanging from the ceiling by silver string.
The wind screamed in their ears as they all plummeted downwards, tumbling down, down, down, down. Dusty air and rocks rained down. At the speed they now were traveling, surely they would go splat against the rocks below, their bodies shattered against the unyielding ground-
Thump.
They landed softly, a bit roughly at most. The smell of dust and sulfur faded to sweet fragrances. When the daze of the landing cleared, they found themselves laying in a massive pile of sand and flowers, soft to the touch.
They were in a massive cavern, the walls covered in flowers and vines, the ground coated in sand, with even more flowers sprouting from the ground, outstretching to soak in the new light from the tear in the earth above. A large tunnel lay ahead, covered up with even more vines and ivy.
Conleth very much detested being manhandled in such a fashion, especially by someone who couldn’t see how much he detested it. However, no amount of hatred for Fodbgen’s protective measure could out-muscle the terror of falling to his death inside a black void.
And then the calm.
The splendor of the place quickly overtook any remaining terror at his sudden landing, delicate flowers inexplicably sprouting from golden sand which sent delightful odors up his nose without his express permission. The moon far above gave the room a white glow that made it seem ethereal; that somehow, despite falling beneath the city he called home, he had landed in the treasure room of the gods.
However, this revelation was very short-lived, as his struggling to get his head out from under Fodbgen’s arms reminded him how indignant he was at his circumstances, and he tried as best he could with the little leverage he had to push against Fodbgen’s chest and break free.
“Let go of-”
His protests suddenly died off.
Perhaps the blind guy had noticed it far sooner, perhaps not. Conleth certainly noticed it now, however, and only after he had rather loudly ordered Fodbgen to relinquish him. Someone else was here.
For an extremely brief moment he was very happy the irreverent drunk had tagged along, that he might be used as bait or a distraction. Whoever this humming stranger was either had the least amount of sense in the world to completely miss the terrifying earthquake that had ripped apart the land above… Or was complacent in it.
Setara blinked several times as the room came into focus. And then blinked several more times as she stared at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Where…am I? Was I not…am I on the floor? She wondered.
Her head rolled side to side, taking in her new surroundings before looking back up at the ceiling. No her-shaped hole up there. Wasn’t she falling? When did it stop? Not through this building it seemed. Though how was there a building beneath the city? Unless none of that happened?
Am I alive? Setara now wondered, slowly lifting up one of her arms. Turning it over, seeing if she felt any pain, strain, or see anything weird before lifting her other arm and doing the same. If everything felt and looked correct, she proceeded to poke and prod herself for any sign of injury. Lifting herself carefully off the floor into a sitting position.
“Hello?” She asks in an unsure and quiet tone before following with an indoor volume of, “is anyone here?”
From her sitting position, she looked to see if her staff was anywhere nearby. And the stranger! Where was the stranger? She tried to see if they were in the room at all.
Tebor felt the ground give way as gravity won the day, dragging him into the darkness. The sound of rushing wind overwhelmed his senses as he fell, causing his mind to race.
There was no sense of dread as he fell, no fear of the unknown … just images - memories frozen in time of his family, his childhood friends. Then came a flood of memories from earlier …
His regretful performance after being offered a second chance.
The looks of horror and shame at his behavior.
The belittling glances from the others that were chosen.
Shidris … although for the life of him he couldn’t understand why he was thinking of her at this moment - he wasn’t particularly fond of the woman.
The comet …
That blasted comet.
Tebor hit the ground, the sudden stop snapping him back to reality and knocking the breathe from his lungs. His chest heaved as he desperately tried to regain his breathe.
Some dist and debris fell near him, causing him to shuffle away from where he landed. He pushed back through the sand and flowers until he felt he was a safe distance from the falling detritus; then with a groan stood and dusted himself off.
He looked around, stunned at what he was seeing. It caught his by surprise. He didn’t focus too long of the scenery, his eyes catching movement in his periphery. Not too far from him, he noticed a child - one of the chosen from earlier, and the blind guy too.
“Hey!” He shouted, making his way toward them, taking the time to look toward the ceiling of the cavern to avoid any more debris. “Are you two okay?” He continued with a cough.
As he approaches the two, he offers his hand to help the kid to his feet, and offers to help the blind man as well.
Depending on the reactions of Conleth and Fodbgen, Tebor will respond accordingly …
“Humming?” Tebor turns toward the sound, moving between the two others and the source of the noise. He stood silently, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, a feeling of trepidation growing steadily in his gut.
Her staff lay discarded in the corner of the room, apparently untouched by whatever brought her here.
And the stranger?
The door’s handle slid open with a click. A small wisp of cold air stung across Setara’s face. It swung open, to reveal a tunnel to a frozen landscape.
A trail of flower petals and soft footprints in light snow led out into the frozen tundra.
There was snow as far as the eye could see, wreckages and statues strewn across the white surfaces.
The sky was dark and gloomy, with clouds roiling in the distance. There was no sound, save for the wind and snow. The cold washed over her, burrowing its way 'neath her skin to her bones.
Long, twisted shadows coalesced underneath the long-dead brambles of ancient trees, which stood like weathered markers against the pale white snow. The barren wasteland beckoned to her.
The humming continued, but became intensified, no longer just a sound, but a sensation, a reverberation upon one’s own body. It remained at the same pitch, neither becoming louder nor softer. The vines began to shake, as Conleth feels his hand become warm. If he were to gaze upon it, he’d find it encased in phantom-like manifestations, coiling pieces of energy and heat. The same is to be said for Tebor, his own hand becoming hot, now swarmed with flames and swirling smoke. And as Tebor approaches the entrance to the tunnel, the vines glow a soft white, and slowly part, revealing a long, winding tunnel with cracked flagstones, leading deeper into the darkness.
When the door opened, Setara leaped off the floor and stood ready, waiting in attention. The instant the cold gnawed on her frame, however, her stance was broken. She shivered, hugging herself, waiting a few seconds for whoever opened the door to come inside. When no one appeared and she noticed the trail, Setara grabbed some of the sheets from the bed for warmth and then her staff.
When did it snow? She wondered, now even more confused as to where she found herself.
“Do you not know one should announce themselves before opening a door?” Setara called out, staring into the wasteland.
She came to the door and grabbed its handle, looking around to see if anyone was hiding behind it. The cold demanded she reseal the door and try to regain warmth inside. But as she looked at the foreign landscape, she felt that tugging again. The same from before with the chalices. Should she trust that again?
Looking back into the room, there was nothing else. She couldn’t stay in one small room forever. And if the stranger wandered out in this place, she had to find them. Maybe they knew something.
With a deep breath, Setara went out into the snow, closing the door behind her. She tried to figure if she could recognize any of the statues, but otherwise moved forward. Trying to follow the stranger’s path or any sign of where to go.
Fodbgen paused as if realizing the sudden change in circumstances before letting the young child go his own way. Then he sat up slowly, “I don’t suppose anyone sees my cane?” he asked politely as if nothing had happened at all.
“I think I might need it,” he said as he stood to his feet, keeping care not to hit some unforeseen ceiling as he stood.
Conleth rolled out from Fodbgen’s grip and made several almost inaudible noises of complaint as the swords at his hips smacked against his knees. Not so much the pain of flat metal against bony joint as much as the humiliation of it and the entire circumstance.
He had barely gotten onto one foot when Tebor suddenly reasserted himself and made Conleth doubt his previous enthusiasm at his presence.
“Would you-” He held a palm out in irritation, trying to find a nonverbal way to tell the eloquent Tebor to go jump in a lake. A deep lake. Preferably with very heavy shoes on.
And then the hand he stretched outwards started glowing.
The humming started to really affect his nerves. Going from one internal and undefinable force to another without any explanation or time to catch his breath was already scary the last four times it happened - once with the string, then with the voice, then with the two voices, and lastly with the time-stopping ground-shaking sky-tearing soul-wrenching end of the world.
As Conleth drew his open palm back towards his body, gazing at the unnatural and ethereal symbols surrounding it, he felt his mind begin to go numb. Not very much, but just enough that he could tell it was happening. This was all too much. Too, too much, and the humming was getting louder.
No, not louder. More. The humming wasn’t just a sound anymore, he… He was a conduit for it. He would’ve dwelled more on the mater had he not felt his acuity succumbing to the constant force in real time.
Tebor’s approaching the vines brought them to his attention, as they parted as if expecting him. He glanced around the delicate room for some sign of Fodbgen’s cane, as he suspected the blind guy would not leave the cavern without it.
As he stretched out his hand toward Conleth in an attempt to help him to his feet, Tebor felt the tone in his words more than the words themselves. He was used to his drunken actions bringing about such a response; but somehow the child’s short response cut him deeper than he expected.
He pulled back his hand, squeezing it into a fist - his knuckles cracking from the strain.
Yes, he had brought this upon himself; yet circumstances have changed. The ground just tore open like the maw of an ancient beast and swallowed them hole, and the first thing that comes to this child’s mind is disdain?
“What have I done?” He thought, annoyance and humiliation churning in his gut as he turned his attention away from the child and to the blind man.
Tebor glanced around, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness and saw no sign of the man’s cane.
As he was about to tell the man that he was unable to find the cane, he noticed something just out of sight. Turning, he noticed the look on Conleth’s face. He followed his gaze to his outstretched hand, an unworldly glow surrounding it.
The sight caused Tebor to step away. As he did so, he began to feel his hand grow warmer until the heat became almost unbearable. The sudden change tore his eyes away from the child and to his right hand, his fist glowing like the coals in a blacksmith’s furnace. He was stunned, unable to speak as his watched the raging flame roil around his closed fist; smoke beginning to billow from the small inferno.
He quickly shook his hand, not sure what to do. The pain of the flames subsiding as he realized that his hand was not being consumed.
“Curious” He thought as he pulled his hand closer to observe the fire as it danced around his fingers. As his heart began to calm from the initial sight, the flames began to calm as well - no longer an inferno, almost tranquil.
“Are you all seeing this?” He asked, not taking his eyes from the flames. (Tebor will respond accordingly to either Fodbgen or Conleth)
As he watched, he began to notice the smoke gently being pulled toward the entrance of the tunnel. His eyes drank in his surroundings, the fire giving light to the cavern like a lantern. Almost instinctively, he began to follow the smoke as it was pulled along by the air. He noticed the vines begin to glow and pull away at his presence. The light of the vines adding to the illumination of his surroundings, revealing the cracked flagstones making up the cavern floor and a long winding tunnel that appeared to lead deeper into the darkness.
Turning back to Fodbgen and Conleth, Tebor offers to help find Fodbgen’s cane.
Across the sand, buried in halfway, was Fodbgen’s cane. It was…in decent shape, at least. Scratched and dented by clattering against rocks, no doubt, but at least somewhat intact.
The tracks lead farther, deeper, into the icy tundra, as Setara pursued. They led towards…something. The statues faces were of those unfamiliar to her, their worn expressions garnering no recognition.
The cold was still ever-present, like pinpricks of needles on her skin. It almost felt like being in a dream…or a nightmare. The statues morphed into large headstones as she walked further, many blank, some etched like paintings.
And one headstone was larger than all the others, and its etching was more intricate, that of two figures clutching an object between them. Their heads were bowed, and they seemed to be together. But below them…was a shallow grave, with a hunched, cloaked figure, sitting inside.
Conleth sighed in relief, wading through the sand and extending his hand to grasp the cane only to recoil at the bizarre patterns surrounding it. With some hesitation, he reached for the cane with his other hand instead.
Conleth’s shoulders snapped to the sides of his neck and despite his most minimal effort to not turn back towards the drunk with an irritated expression, he did exactly that. The flames surrounding his hand gave Conleth both relief that he wasn’t the only one with something bizarre going on and disappointment that this strange and discomforting circumstance wasn’t unique to him and therefore special.
“I see it.” He muttered, angrily grabbing the cane and tripping himself up slightly when it didn’t effortlessly pull out of the sand. “Has it occurred to you that whoever’s humming might not like our being here?”
Finally drawing the cane out of the sand, he lightly tossed it in the general direction of Fodbgen and just assumed the blind guy would find it with little effort. “We have all done a good job at not dying thus far.” He ran a finger underneath his collar as he whispered, eyeing the ominous vines for a moment before waking towards them, hoping they would stay parted and allow him to pass down the deep, dark tunnel. “Let’s keep doing that.”
Setara studied the depicted figures and the object they held. If she couldn’t recognize them, she tried to keep them stamped in memory to inquire about them later. For the time being, she stood by the grave’s edge, looking down at the figure but ready to back away if needed. She tried to gauge if this was the same person from before.
“Are you well?” She asked, pulling the sheets around her closer. Trying to keep some movement going to generate warmth.
The cane hit him cleanly on the head and clattered to the floor, “Ow, well then, thank you for finding that I think,” he said with a sigh as he stretched down, picked it up, and gave it a twirl, “Hm, going to need to give her a good polish once we…”
He paused tapping the ground a few times, “Hm, where are we now. I’m afraid I cannot see in the slightest.”