"I don't want to follow your orders," Ermos complained. "Shouldn't you be following mine? I'm stronger than you after all."
Mane turned to him sharply, his hands tight on his sword. "Say that again," he said threateningly.
"I'm stronger…?" Ermos said.
"Damn you," Mane ground his teeth together. He looked like he really wanted to cut Ermos in half there and then. It was likely taking all of his will power not to. But he remembered his promise and offered an alternative suggestion that would save his pride. "After we've finished with this cave, you're going to duel me and I'm going to show you just who is stronger."
"But we already fought," Ermos pointed out. "I beat you, didn't I? Pretty badly too."
"That doesn't count," Mane said firmly, "you landed a cheap blow."
Pash was quite sure that Mane was clutching at straws with that assertion. When they had first met, it was quite clearly a fair and even competition. Mane himself likely knew the wind his argument lacked, for he would not even look at Ermos as he declared that.
"Okay then, I'll fight you again," Ermos agreed, before wandering to the entrance of the cave. "It's dark in there, you know. I don't think we'll be able to see without a torch… Looks like we're going to have to go searching for a good stick."
"I came prepared for that, obviously," Mane said, taking his small leather backpack from his shoulder and flinging it to the floor. He took a glance at Pash before he rooted through it. "I would have thought with a bag that size that you'd be carrying something useful."
Pash bristled at that, but he couldn't think of anything clever to say, so he went red with embarrassment instead. He looked to his master for a moment, hoping that he would say something to defend him, but Ermos was peering over Mane's shoulder nosily, looking into his bag.
There were three torches in there, bound with an oiled cloth. Pash could smell the scent of the liquid even from where he stood. He heard Finger's whimper lightly and wander away. Clearly, it wasn't a smell he was fond of.
Along with the three torches, there were other useful things in that bag, like rope and canteens filled with water.
"Hold this," Mane said, holding out the torch to Ermos, whilst he went in search of something else.
Ermos grabbed it wordlessly, sniffing the rags on the end of it, confirming the same scent that Pash had.
A moment later, Mane produced a set of flint and steel and he turned back to the torch. Ermos held it a distance away from him as Mane worked up the sparks to light it. One strike was all it took. A cloud of lively orange sparks took to the air and the hyper-flammable oil was ignited immediately.
"Woah," Ermos had to hold it even further away from him as the flame burned so big at first. A second or two later though, and it had stabilized into something that was usable.
"I'll take it now," Mane said.
"Fine…" Ermos said reluctantly. For a split second, Pash had thought his master was going to refuse him, for that's what he normally would have done. But perhaps something Mane had said had resonated with him, and he'd decided to alter his attitude a little. Or maybe he simply realized that it would be bothersome to hold the torch after a while. It was likely the latter.
"Good," Mane smiled, enjoying that small victory. He snatched the torch from his hand, the flames flickering with the speed that he did so. "Follow me then, and stay light on your feet."
Into the cave they went, under the light of Mane's torch.
The first thing Pash noticed was the smell. Like the oil, it was overwhelmingly strong. There was a horrible dankness to it, but worse than that, there was an underlying scent of rotting flesh. It was all but suffocating. Pash gagged despite himself.
By the flickering light of the torch, they were able to see what was around them. The raw stone of the cliffs formed walls and droplets of water ran down them, pooling on the uneven floor.
Cobwebs grew up in the corners closer to the ceiling and white strings hung down from where larger webs had been torn apart. Pash thought that at one point – before the skeletons started going in and out – that the whole passageway would have likely been filled with webs.
It wasn't so bad for Pash, moving in that cramped space – even if his backpack was bulging – but for Mane, it looked to be more than uncomfortable. When the rocky passageway turned and twisted, his broad shoulders would get caught between two sections of rock and he'd curse, before having to turn himself and proceed sideways.
It really was like a natural sort of cave, for a while. Lichen grew up on the rock faces and insects complained as they passed through. The passageway was slanted down though and the longer they went along it, the deeper into the earth they went and the colder the air became.
At a certain point, Pash started seeing strange paintings on the walls. Black and faded and simple in their design. A three-pointed triangle for a man's head, then a simple square for his body, depicting him with a spear three times bigger than he was.
Those paintings grew in frequency and in complexity the deeper they went. Each painting seemed to be connected with the other, as though they were trying to tell a story. Pash wasn't sure what that story was, but it gave him the chills as he looked at them.
There was an image of a man on table, a knife through his chest, under a large and black sphere that Pash could only assume was the sun.
That was the last picture he saw before the natural cave system ended and they came upon the work of man.
A large hall sprang up out of nowhere. Even the roof went up high. It was terribly ancient and several stone pillars had been reduced to rubble inside of it. Seeing that made Pash feel uneasy. Those pillars will surely have had a purpose, and with them gone, the chances of the roof falling on them increased.
From Mane's torchlight, it was difficult to get the true dimensions for the room all at once. Everything was coated in shadow. With that lack of light, they didn't know which way they should go, or indeed, whether they should go anywhere.