The plan has already formed in my mind before I have time to completely process it, but I know it will work. Working at the same place, on the same shift, for eight months means it’s not too hard to know how to sneak in. The only issue will be ensuring no one recognizes me, that I seem like just another disciples of Dark heading to the group chambers.
Even though they’ll be empty.
The nighttime chill is still heavy in the morning air when I step out of my apartment and into the near-empty streets, the unsettling time of day when the sky is just brightening and everything is bathed in gleams of early-morning sun and sparkling dewdrops. It would be peaceful, calming, if it weren’t for the recklessly stupid thing I’m about to go do, for the bleariness of my mind from lack of sleep.
It’s rare for me to be up this early – my work at the Temple doesn’t start until late afternoon, and I never have anything better to do but lay at home until I have to leave. But today that changes, the thrill in my stomach a mix between paralyzing fear and exhilaration. I’ve never done something like this before, but I’m more than ready.
People have just started to emerge from their homes by the time I reach the Temple, moving my hood up to cover my face. I thought long and hard about if I should fake something as my Attribute, but Dark really doesn’t have many physical skills related to it. Mostly, they can see spirits, or have excellent vision, or something not easily revealed.
“This would be so much easier if I was in Light, or Fertility,” I mutter, both Deities gifting practical Attributes, like art, or photography, or skill with animals.
Thoughts aside, I tug my hood down just a little further to completely disguise my face in shadow. In a different life, I might say it was a blessing that the person working in the Temple today was new, that I’d never met them, but I don’t get blessings. No, this is luck, and chance, and the fact that I made my plans around my knowledge he would be on shift.
Warm air envelops me as I tread into the sweet-smelling air of the atrium, incense just lit. There are few people walking around, some disciples of Vast leaving and bright red hair standing out like a flame from behind the front desk. The new hire looks young, probably still in school, and waves kindly at me as I approach
“Hi there! What can I do for you today?” As if it isn’t obvious, I think, somewhat cruelly. But his smile is bright and genuine, lighting up his face, and I find it in myself to hold me tongue.
“Dark, group chambers. Please,” I add as an afterthought. He nods and starts leading me down the halls, and it feels like torture to act as if I haven’t walked these same halls a million times before, shown people to the same room I’m being led to. He steps aside from the grand door with a flourish, waving me inside.
“No one in there right now, you’re an early riser. I’m sure people will be trickling in soon though!” He gives me one last smile, a small salute, and walks away back down the way we came.
Closing the door behind me as quietly as I can, I press an ear to it before rushing back to the centre of the large space. The curtains in the group chamber… there. Taking hold of the bag I dropped, I’m quick to push them aside as I reach the far side of the cold, dimly lit room. My heart beating in my ears, I search the ground for something, anything different from the rest.
I’m starting to think it’s all a bust before I find it, fingers running over a slight ridge in the tile, further pushing and prodding revealing a crack I can just slip my nails into. Pulling up, the slab of stone grates away with a sound much too loud for my liking. Stomach in my throat, I peer down. The hole is wide, could probably fit me and then some. It continues deeper and deeper, shrouded in darkness.
Darkness in a passage hidden by Dark chambers. Of course. But at least I thought ahead. Some rustling away in my bag yields the flashlight I shoved in there a few hours before, batteries freshly changed and ready for something just like this.
But just what I’m doing, I’m not sure.
Are you seriously going into a dark tunnel underneath the Temple? For all you know, it could be a maintenance tunnel. Sewer access. What the heck, Enna?
Groaning, I shove my head in my hands. What am I doing? I don’t know what I’ll find, if find anything at all, it could be something horrible and deadly for all I know. But I can’t help but feel I have no choice, something inside me feeling pulled towards the gaping chasm.
Are you serious? Yes. So you’re actually doing this? Yes.
Well, I can’t stop you now.
I guess not.
A faint clicking behind me snaps me from my own thoughts, watching in horror as the door rattles. I don’t have a moment more to think, and in the next instant I’m enclosed in darkness, pulling the tile back over my head as faint light from the hall floods into the room.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
My heart beats erratically, in time with my racing heart. I crouch there a moment, hearing confused voices from above. I lean forward carefully, shifting so one foot is forward. I turn on my light.
Or, I try to.
Oh, oh no.
Sinking down, I sit heavily. My light is above me, rolling around on the stone I just haphazardly pulled back into place.
Nothing you can do about it now.
I guess not.
Reluctantly, I start to move forward. I don’t know how much the dense floors will muffle my movements, so I try my best to move still and silently through the darkness. Slowly but surely, I can tell the floor is curving downwards, and keeping one hand on the rounded wall it almost seems as though it’s moving in a deep spiral. Deep, deep underground.
The air starts to develop that earthy, stale smell, similar only to the scent of gardening and pavement after rain. My hair starts sticking to the back of my neck, clinging to the water dripping down on me from above. My eyes have faintly adjusted, but I’m still able to see little more than small rocks beneath my feet. I’m no longer afraid to make noise, so deep underground it’s impossible to be anywhere within earshot of the Temple. Or anything else, for that matter.
The ceiling starts heightening as I descend, walls moving further apart from each other. The dampness is in the air now, and I can stand at full height with my arms and legs completely spread out, fingers just brushing the concrete. Soon enough the floor evens out and it’s no longer descending anymore, just moving forward.
On, and on, we prevail.
On, and on, weary traveler,
Don’t let these trials tug you down,
Keep your feet planted on the ground.
The song comes to mind with little thought, an old verse from some epic about the ancient Deities and their original disciples. We sang it one year for a school production, before our Connections – or lack thereof - became more prevalent and separated us into sections. I haven’t sung in years, preferring to avoid the strange looks I recieve when it becomes clear I’m not Gifted in it. My mother was, though. Her voice sounded as clear as the water I hear now, tumbling and crashing with a natural rasp and rawness that couldn’t help but draw others in to listen.
Wait.
Water?
Blinking once, twice, trying in vain to see further, I strain my eyes to catch a glimpse of whatever is waiting for me ahead, the rushing water I heard.
There. It’s clearer now, the crash of water against rocks, surging forward. I move forward with renewed purpose, feeling the ground through the toes of my shoes for water seeping through the fabric. A rock sends me stumbling forward, and glancing down, the lines are smudgedly visible through the dark. Searching forward once more, I confirm that yes, it is getting brighter. The horizon glows, though ever-so-slightly, with a pale shine. At a slow sprint now, the light grows until I can clearly see the walls, floor, the tunnel in front of me, straightening until I can see the source of the water, a crashing river moving onwards at a rapid pace, parallel to the path in front of me.
Stepping further into the light, I see a point where the walls fall away, crumbling until it reaches an open cave, green moss hanging in vines from the side of rock walls and glistening with river spray.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, taken back by the hidden beauty hiding here for years, decades, untouched, undisturbed by the influence of our society. This was here all along?
It strikes me that this must be what the Deity who came to me must be talking about, this hidden oasis beneath Dark, the Temple, everything.
That doesn’t make sense, the nagging voice in my head chimes in. An all-powerful Deity appears to you, just to tell them about some scenery underground?
And the passageway, too. It doesn’t make sense: someone obviously knows this exists, created a twisting tunnel just for this? There’s not a sign of human interference anywhere.
No, it doesn’t make sense. All that fuss, for this? It can’t possibly end here. Moving further into the opening, I scan the walls for more entrances. I run my hands over the rock, search for the roots of the moss, but nothing. Everything here is natural, and I’m getting nowhere. Except for the light.
It was total darkness, for however long, until this mysterious cave. Where is the light coming from?
I scan the room again, this time searching for the source of the encompassing light that bathes me in soft light. There. The base of the river, the river that’s running in the opposite direction. An incline. But it can’t possibly be coming from aboveground, I’m too deep underground, and this light is pale, cold, not warm like rays from the sun. The angles are too close, the way it reflects makes me think it’s nearby to the curve in the water. It feels almost… artificial.
Could it be?
The walls are soaked with water from the river, so there’s no climbing it, no hope crossing the river to get a better look. It’s impossible to swim against the current, so that leaves a single option. Throw something.
It seems barbaric, I know. But the amount of problems that can be solved with a solid throw would surprise you, so I go back down the tunnel aways, and find the heftiest rock I can find. It’s only the size of my closed fist, and not very heavy, but it will have to do. As long as it doesn’t shatter on the rock wall, it should hopefully bounce off further and hit whatever the light is shining from.
And if it fails, well, I’m none the worse for trying.
With a final bounce back and forth in my hands, I heft it in my right, and throw.
My aim isn’t as good as it used to be when I did stuff like this every day, throwing stones or small sticks are imaginary targets for fun. But some part in me must remember it, because while I’m off from my original target, I still manage to hit the wall in a good enough place that it ricochets as I intended, clattering back once, twice, until I hear a shattering crack!
The light flashes out, and I’m left in darkness again. My night vision has been destroyed, so I blink hard as I wait for my eyes to adjust again. The gravel crunches under my feet as I try to regain my bearings.
My bag. It’s just over there, I know it is, even if I can’t see it. Taking small, timid baby steps, I shuffle my way over. I crouch down to feel for it with my hands, spreading them out against the rough ground. Something sharp punctures my palm, and I jerk back, momentarily off-balance. Leaning back down to fix my wobbling posture, I feel cold envelop the fabric of my shoe, grappling for purchase. I’m still leaning, body out of control, only able to take one quick breath before plunging into the icy current.