Shuffling and scraping. Scratching and clawing. A momentary pause. Light shines through a hole, and a bloodshot eye peeks through, searching. It retreats. Chipping. Cracking. Wood shatters, and golden sap spews. Cursing. Clutching. Stumbling. Darkness. Silence. Harsh, rasping voices, whispering.
“Is it finished?”
“I… I think so.”
“Who’s going to check?”
“I sure an’t going, I almost got consumed last time. Again”
“And now you know how to avoid it better.”
“Not happenin’. Next time, sure, but not this one.”
“Karpen, you’re the most-”
“I said no, Rynon. Do you want me to leave?”
A sigh. Silence. Waiting.
“Fine then. Jonard, you go.”
“Why me? I just joined!”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“You're new. Expendable.”
“I have my uses!”
“Then show them to us.”
A groan, and a hacking, wheezing cough.
“Fine.”
The lamp flickers to life again, revealing a group of cloaked figures huddled together. A small, scrawny silhouette, thinner than almost all the rest, peels away from the rest and steps towards the drying pool of sap. They break off a piece of bark and start poking at the walls, probing empty tunnels that still contain vestiges of the golden liquid. After a few minutes of examination, they turn to the rest of the group.
“It cleared itself out with that burst. We should be fine.”
One of the figures picks up the lantern and makes their way over to the gap in the wall, steps over the new patch of salt, and looks around. The light illuminates a vast cavern, filled with interwoven branches as large as tables. Golden sap drips from the cracks that mar most of them and flows from the gaping holes that populate others, all of it being drained through the numerous gashes in the floor. The figure pushes back his cloak, revealing a gaunt, bony face, the skin seeming to cling to his skeleton. His voice is a wheezing gasp that sounds like a whisper, yet is clearly heard by the others.
“We are close, I can feel it. The seed’s song grows louder.”
Another figure makes their way into the cavern. Their hood seemed to contain an empty void that consumes all light, giving no glimpses of who they could be. Their voice is a harsh, grating sound, clawing at the ears of those who hear it, though no one flinches.
“Are you sure it’s not just the acoustics of this place? Even you, with your meager voice, could be heard from ‘cross the room.”
“The seed’s voice is not a physical thing, Karpen. If you were more willing to receive its gifts, then you would know this.”
“Gifts? Do you mean those curses you foolishly accepted with open arms?”
“The blessings it has bestowed upon us may be hard for your simple mind to grasp, but they are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened.”
They continue bickering, their voices filling the space. The group shows no interest in their argument, spreading out to investigate the new place they discovered. One of them hangs back, staying near the jagged gap that marks the entrance. Their hood falls, showing a small, almost childish face. They glance at the two arguing periodically, flinching whenever one of them raises their voice. Eventually, one of them breaks off, throwing their hands up in the air.
“If you want to live in ignorance, so be it! The seed will determine whether or not you are worthy when we find it.”
“Ignorance is bliss, or so I’m told. I do not intend to shatter my mind into pieces trying to comprehend the secrets of the universe.”
They separate, and the gaunt man heads toward the timid figure huddling by the wall. They speak, their voice a timid squeak, sounding small compared to the harshness of Karpen.
“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually, Rynon. He just hasn’t seen the miracles the seed can do yet.”
“He’s set in his ways, Jonard. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“One can hope.”
Rynon chuckles.
“All we have is hope. Come now, let’s help set up camp.”
