Avina and Donolve slowly made their way down the tunnel. Donolve had one of his hands on the walls, feeling the turns and leading them forth. All Avina had to worry about was not stepping on Donolve's shoes and holding his hand.
At a corner, a spot of light finally showed itself. It was conspicuous in the darkness, being the only vibrancy in an area where the color black was an underestimate.
When they made the turn, the world was finally enshrouded in light. Truthfully, it couldn't be said to be enshrouded. If enshrouded was comparable to the day, then their destination was only hinted with light. It was a warm, flickering light from the comforts of a couple of candles lining the wall.
