The tension hung in the air as he strolled slightly behind the woman, mostly because she had claimed to have coincidentally seen the depictions of the runic tongue from his relic somewhere in the dark pathways which in itself seemed too good to be true, but also because he didn't know how safe it was to roam through those halls. Before they began their journey into it, he had questioned her of how she had gotten there in the first place and according to her, she was chased by a beast so large that its body scraped along the walls of the pathways and In her haste, she noticed an entrance to the dark paths just like the one they found themselves in front of and ran through.
The beast that pursued her though, refused to step into the darkness. If her description was correct the beast that chased her would be the same one that he encountered, and it sounded like for some unknown reason it was afraid to step or slither into these halls.
If he was right, she had either come across the same monster he had unleashed in which case he felt a tad guilty. Or she had encountered another one altogether and he had something serious to worry about. He had enough on his plate with the Gila, but with those scavengers roaming about the chances of him surviving this trial just plummeted drastically. The mere idea of encountering those beasts roaming the halls of the pathway was enough to send a shiver down his spine.
Which meant that with his safety in mind, to him at least, this was the best and only option he had. Because in this place he didn't have to worry about unnecessarily large or fast monsters suddenly appearing. He had placated that issue, but he had another problem quickly arising, with each step he took his body grew weaker and weaker. It had now been days since he late had something to eat and the effects were showing themselves. He tried to focus on the path ahead, but his mind wandered to the gnawing hunger in his stomach.
The young cynic kept his distance from the woman, carefully hiding his expression as they continued down the winding halls, but it only got harder and harder, but in an attempt to keep his clam, Mathew's thoughts drifted to the depictions they sought. What secrets lay hidden within those words? What purpose could they have, and what reason do they have for being on his relic? He didn't understand them, so he wondered, would he be able to find answers if he just stared at them? Or would they only uncover more questions?
The uncertainty gnawed at him, much like his hunger but he pushed forward non the less.
***
Nearly an hour flew by and Mathew could feel his energy waning. He had pushed himself to the limit, and couldn't go on much longer, but made sure to keep pace with the woman.
"Hey, when are we going to get there?"
"Just be patient, will you? we're almost..."
Suddenly, a faint, growl echoed from a distance. The woman raised a hand, signaling them to stop. Staring at her trembling body, Mathew leaned in and whispered into the woman's ear.
"Do you think it's close?"
The woman twitched at the sound of his voice, her jaw tightening as Mathew's breath brushed past her ear. Shifting her weight ever so slightly away from him, she shaped to shove him away, but she held herself still, knowing that even the smallest noise could possibly put them in an inescapable situation.
Her lips pressed into a thin line before she turned to scan the dark path ahead.
"This way."
Luckily, as they roamed the dark halls the two did not encounter whatever it was that made that sound, and after another hour of carefully manoeuvring, they finally reached their destination. Before them loomed a colossal stone arch embedded into the sturdy wall. The sheer size of it was overwhelming. Like with the room before, the young cynic felt the sense of something watching him grow even stronger.
"I thought you said it was on a wall?"
The woman stepped forward cautiously.
"This is a wall. Just, a very large one."
That wasn't of much consequence to him right now. What mattered to Mathew was that like the woman said, above the door, Mathew found symbols that looked identical to the one on his lantern as well as an image depicting it.
Mathew's eyes traced the carvings.
"Looks... welcoming," he whispered sarcastically, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
But what could all this mean? Was his lantern some kind of ancient artifact related to this place?
Raising the lantern of avarice, he inspected the symbols inscribed on it and compared them to those carved into the arch. He didn't know how he knew, but as similar as they were to those carved onto his relic, they were not identical. For every similar stroke inscribed on the lantern, there were two extras carved onto the stone. Did that mean they said different things? Or were they two different parts of a message?
Mathew leaned closer to the arch and on closer inspection he noticed that the material used in making the arch was different from that of the surrounding walls. It was made up of a jet-black, glassy yet strangely metallic material. Its surface was perfectly smooth and full of lustre, and the closer he got, the more the flickering light from the lantern illuminated its surface.
'What is this material? It's almost… like a giant chunk of... metallic-glass.'
Captivated by its beauty, he reached out and touched its icy cold surface. Tracing the symbols with his fingers and feeling the cold sting his palm. The method used to engrave the markings was unclear. At a glance, one would think that it was carved into the arch using some fort of tool, but after looking over it himself, he noticed ridges within them. The texture reminded him of a piece of molten slag he saw once after a fissure break. The piece of metal was scorched by the fiery breath of a Voidspawn and reduced to its liquid state, Slag. If that wasn't enough, there were scorch marks around some of the runes.
It was almost as if a beam of concentrated heat had been used to melt the stone. He was lost in a storm of thoughts as he contemplated what the runes, and the methos of their engraving could mean. He wasn't some sort of archeologist and neither did he have an interest in the history of the maze, but he did however want to live. And if he was to do that, he had to find a way out.
"Okay, let's see if I can make sense of this,"
Squinting at the symbols. He began to mutter under his breath, trying to piece together a crude translation. Attributing similar characters to that of the language he was familiar with. But as he continued, frustration began to creep in. The more he analyzed the runes, the more they seemed to elude him. Now and then he would find a string of the, that was all A's or just a nonsensical mix of different letters.
"Why isn't this making sense?"
Scratching his head, he grew increasingly frustrated. Time quickly passed, and eventually, the woman, who had been silently sitting by the arch and watching him work, finally spoke.
"Do you have to any idea what you're doing?"
As he was lost in his stupor of thought, however, he just ignored her. The woman shifted slightly, her expression a mix of irritation and impatience.
"I've been sitting here, waiting for ages. I'm tired, hungry, and your muttering is starting to get on my nerves."
A silence hung between them for a few moments, the woman stared at Mathew, anticipating a reply. Soon, his lips parted, and her eyes shone with expectation. A sliver of hope ignited in her chest that he was about to give in and take them back to the safety, or relative safety of the well-lit pathways. She couldn't stand being there for another minute. But the words to escape his lips, not only drowned her in despair, they confirmed his madness.
"They just don't add up."
It wasn't an insult, nor was it a reply to her earlier question, nor was it even directed towards her. In fact, at this very moment, he was so engrossed in whatever it was he was doing that he had forgotten she was there. Staring at him with a contemptuous gaze, she sat back, rolled her eyes, brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and muttered under her voice.
"Unbelievable,"
Remaining oblivious, Mathew focused entirely on deciphering the runes. The woman huffed and groaned, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as her irritation bubbled. For her time felt like it was dragging on forever in the lightless void they found themselves in, but for Mathew, time felt like it was flying by while he worked tirelessly to at least try to make sense of the runes. Despite his efforts, though everything he had tried failed.
"How long do you plan to keep this up?"
"As long as it takes."
"Oh, so you speak?"
"Of course I do."
"Well, you've just been staring at those runes like they're going to magically tell you something. It's not working!"
And again, the deafening silence fell. Even more time passed, and Mathew made no strides in deciphering the runes. He glanced to his side and saw that the beautiful woman had long fallen asleep. Glancing back at the arch, he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. He opened his mouth wide and let out a loud yawn.
'Was I that tired?'
Looking back at the woman, he turned and walked towards the wall opposite her and sat down. Resting his head against the cobblestone wall, he closed his eyes for just a moment, hoping to gather his thoughts and regain some lost energy. The coolness of the stone felt surprisingly comforting, drawing him closer to the edge of consciousness.
With the lantern of avarice at his side, he sat there watching the lantern steady light cast gentle shadows around the eerily dark path. The silence enveloped him, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to drift, thoughts of the runes fading into the background.
He began to wonder what he would do when he returned home. The first task would be finding out what happened to his mother's corpse. But if his guess was right, since she was a nameless slum dweller, her body would be cremated and dumped away. The thought of his mother's remains being treated in such a way filled him with rage.
The fact that she was a nameless slum dweller, would be the reason she would not receive a proper burial filled him with a deep seeded hate for the system of the world he lived in. He couldn't dwell on that though, he had a mission. But he couldn't afford to dwell on that anger now; he had a mission to complete, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He had to prepare. And the first step he would need to take was obtaining knowledge. Knowledge about not only the inner workings of his world and society which often felt like a labyrinth of corruption and indifference. He needed and wanted desperately to understand the societal structures that had failed his mother. But more than that, he needed to delve into the mysteries of Ygdrassil. It was a nexus where Heralds spent most of their time and obtained, power that could change everything. And before seeking that knowledge, he needed to strive for that very same power. The power to be able to protect himself and achieve his goals. The power to carve a path through the darkness that is the life of a human.
As he gathered his thoughts, a sense of determination washed over him. He would not allow the world to dictate his fate any longer. With a final glance at the lantern, the woman, then the arch, he steeled himself for the journey ahead.
But life wasn't so simple. Not for a Herald.
Suddenly, while sat on the floor only moments away from falling asleep, he felt a tremor in the ground.