An inner tremor shook the group. They examined the corpse, they were looking for blood, bite marks, and anything that showed why he died other than dehydration and starvation. Arthur looked at the raggedy tissue around his torch for an instant, slowly vanishing into microscopic sparks.
Other than the man's two bulging eyes, they found no damage, no trace of struggle nor red blood. It was long dead, rigid, and blue veins decorated his torso up to his mouth. One of the thieves who wanted to examine the corpse further came over it. Pressing against his torso, only an awful bone-crushing sonata resounded.
A faint smile appeared on Arthur's face, the flickering light of the torch shook all the shadows around them and enhanced the thieves' discomfort when the shadows engulfed in the smallest ripples, highlighting his joy.
"It's down here. And this guy just encountered this cave's defense mechanism." He said with confidence, no one missed how bloodshot were his eyes.
Again, he was right, the only explanation for the thief's death was magic. Although his lack of sadness and surprise at the discovery propelled their theory, they were now afraid to back up. The first step he took toward the depths was stopped by an order. Those words were more powerful than tips and advice that reminded him of Uther's only gifts.
"Tell us who you are, blue blood."
He slowly turned his head and ended his motion in a tilted position. "Who do you think I am?"
A distorted voice that could only suit an older visage gave off a strange illusion that the entire world had shrunk to the few meters separating them.
The air became breathable only once he asked another question. "What do you think you're holding?"
Every finger wrapped around daggers tightened while those who held a bow lowered their weapon in an attempt to look for an answer. Shyly, one replied.
"A sword...?"
Despite the fact the man was two heads taller than him, Arthur stomped the ground before kicking the man's hand.
Arthur waited for the clinging of the weapon to stop before using the manly voice anew. "Trash! This is but a scrap of metal! A dead weight you've been carrying down here to threaten me!"
With his torch, he showed the same endless black slate that surrounded them. "Look at where you are! If something lives here, it needs but a sneeze to kill us all! And look at you! Proud warriors holding grounds against a defenseless kid!"
He pointed at the man with a crooked back, then at the one with a prosthetic leg. "If it was a mission for me to go here, don't you think I would've gone with hundreds of mages instead? You are here because no matter what happens, in the end, you'll be big winners. Bring Bast my body if I die here, she'll handle the situation."
His cyan eyes merged with the now blue flame that lit the wide path. Another weapon rose toward his chest, he couldn't tell if it was out of fear or faulty convictions, but he gave his deadliest glare to the hesitating woman.
"What in the nine circles of hell makes you think you are doing the right thing?"
As soon as he realized the depths of his own words, he pursed his lips in disgust and spat the wild words that came to his mind while biting his tongue in the process.
Reduced to a whisper, his voice went back to the normal one. Hearing his father's words itched the boy to no end.
"Just like you, I'm here, and I'll continue until I find what I am looking for. I'll come back once I lay my hand on the treasure." He said, passing down his torch to the man. He winked at Jaya, who was as confused as the others before putting his right hand against the right side of the tunnel.
She understood too late to stop him from running away in the darkness.
By brushing his hand on the smooth wall of the cave, he was sure to find the only exit of the one-way labyrinth.
He ran, and once all sources of light were gone, he wasn't able to tell if his eyes were open or closed. He moved forward, caring only for the sound of his hastened breathing and footsteps vanishing into nothingness.
He couldn't hear the thief group anymore, he was much faster now that he relied solely on his other senses. The ceiling was too high for the stalactites to scratch his skull, the path was covered by a thin layer of dust that helped him not slip and his shoulder now free of its burning burden could rest.
It took him some time to realize it was one of the best parts of his journey since he couldn't see the ghost anymore.
'For the better.' He thought as he started to lose track of time.
He soon reached another hour of in-depth stroll and his knee failed to support him, so he leaned against his 'favorite' wall and examined his body, blinking by reflex and locking his eyes onto nothingness.
The boy was starving, he had been fasting because he acted faster than he could think, and his many runaways caused him stomach cramps stronger than any he felt until now. In the dark, his imagination multiplied tenfold, which was mainly thanks to the lethal dose of sulfur he was inhaling.
Gauging distances was confusing, even to touch his limbs or soothe the tornado squeezing his organs from the inside. After what seemed to last an eternity of agony, he stood up and stumbled upon a corpse just a dozen meters farther. Not the one the group found already, a new one he soon recognized.
His hands ventured on the rough curves in front of him until a hit pushed him away. "Fuck off, I'm not dead..." A faint whisper echoed.
"Jaya? What happened?" He asked about the diminishing life.
"I got lost, like the others." She replied, now reaching for his touch. How can you still stand...?"
A gurgling cough made the thief choke for a while before Arthur decided to reply. "Why can't you? We parted ways a few minutes ago, and again, I walked straight forward."
As he did with Bast, he let the tip of his fingers venture on the woman, her cheeks and eyes were sunken, her lips were dry, and he was certain that death was sitting next to them, awaiting to take Jaya with her.
"After you left, we lost someone, he simply vanished as if he never existed, we found him like Looney, dry dead. We failed to find the exit before we ran out of fire, and soon it became food. We fell, one after the other. Why you... Have you found it?"
Her question switched intonation mid-way, since Arthur's voice was lively despite the rough state he was last time they parted ways, she switched the subject. Still, both were in denial, there was an overwhelming amount of despair animating the conversation.
"What's happening in this cave?" Arthur asked, forgetting that shaking his head was a useless silent reply in the dark.
"Lance, or... Whoever you are..." Jaya's voice was reduced to a tired breath. "It has been a week since we last saw each other..."
A splitting headache suddenly broke his focus, followed by a strident ringing in his ears. He felt the air vibrating against his cheeks, his throat burning down to his lungs.
She could hear him suffer, choke on nothing but air, but he was a meter away, lost in the abyss to her. The threat was invisible and the corroding symptoms affecting her now reflected on the boy, it was too late.
"The air makes us rot from the inside... The cave keeps us from going up, no matter what... We gave up the mission, Lance. We gave up..."
Grabbing his head like a madman, he shook his upper body left and right to get rid of the anomaly. His entire upper body slammed against the wall, triggering his old wound at the back of his head. The boy went from passive loneliness to a state of insane distress in under a minute.
Finally, a warm sensation dripped down his face, calling him back to his senses for an instant. Looking for Jaya, his feet brushed against the ground, he needed to ask the thief a question. His obsession to lessen the pain in his stomach grew with his panic much more than time.
'Of course, no. She has no food left. She has no idea where the others are. She wasn't staying here on purpose.'
She was nowhere. Gone without a noise.
The slightly salty liquid had a taste, it entered his mouth and revitalized his lips, enough for him to start losing control of himself. Once so often, as he walked, he sunk his fingers in his wound to give himself something to drink. Repeating his mantra, he pushed his body to its limits.
'None of them know how fantastic they are... Why despite being the leftovers of the kingdom, the rats that plague Tash... They have no idea how much they mattered to me.'
He counted his breath, he counted his steps, nothing but his fake rhythm helped him understand the time flow in the cave.
'They are important. Lovely beings, with true feelings.'
No doubt, it was abstract, and broken, and the many abnormalities he came across seemed to spare him from growing bored.
'Five thousand and seventy-eight.' He thought, brushing his hands on a new cold corpse he found. The hunger was overwhelming, but his determination wouldn't falter anytime soon.
'I got it. You were not able to survive. That's how mages are... Strong.' He thought, trying to repress every feeling of disgust churning his stomach. He lifted his hand mid-air and tried to conjure a flame as if the reason for his endless failure was finally defeated.
He copied every move taught by his mentor, to perfection, he tried to ignite a flame, to conjure wind that could lead him to the gates of hell, the most probable treasure to find at the bottom of the pit.
Before he could create something, gather any lonely magicule at the tip of his finger to manifest his talent, he coughed a mouthful of blood.
"Damn it!" He shouted, interrupting interminable hours of silence and giving his ears stimulation.
Slamming his fist against the ground, he blamed himself for his inability. "Not yet! I don't have what it takes, yet!"
His last act of violence landed on a half-soft matter, that pushed him to further let go of his humanity. He slammed his fist against the skull of the dead thief and did the unforgivable.
He let his instincts take over his mind and fed, for the first time, on uncooked food. He was thankful to not see anything.
Between the sound of the torn tissue and breaking bones, even his thoughts fell silent.
It was stiff, dry-aged. The absence of humidity down the cave prevented moss from growing but also moisture from appearing. The lack of oxygen did the same but affected the boy as well.
There was a clicking in his mind, a switch that shut off any way of thinking straight.
One entire day passed, doing the same activity, crawling in the cave while continuing his trial. This was no challenge, it was plain damnation and no matter how much he used his shoes, there was no whatsoever noticeable variation on the wall nor the ground. Not a sound other than his pained winces or his ragged breath.
Two days, five. Too much time to count, too much time to mind-pronounce the disastrous number of steps he had taken forward.
Each time he was tired, he blocked his arms around his legs near his favorite wall and fell asleep. It was his only way to ensure keeping the same direction.
He could still scent the many places where he had relieved his bladder, it was much more odorant than his meals.
His fingers ventured on his rib cage, they drew one by one the bones that were about to poke their way out of his inflexible skin. He had nothing left on his daily road. There wasn't anything left for him to understand when he would arrive, what meant the most was his unwavering will to not back up. To change the world.
He passed his hand in his hair, it had noticeably grown since Bast's haircut.
The sensation of the dried blood on his face crackling with each grimace became pleasant. The lack of stiff food helped his gums heal back around his teeth. After an indeterminable amount of time, he was nothing more than an empty shell.
A guttural sound exited his mouth, one eroded just like the cave itself.
It was his last breath, his last effort before falling to slumber.
"Aren't you growing sick of toying with me...?"
His body moved one last time without the help of his legs. It slammed against the dusty ground, there was no more energy to let the dirt enter his lungs and cough. There was no more blood to shed in his adventure.
Holding the part of his body that suffered the most under the experimentation table, he sunk his fingers under his solar plexus to touch his mageroot and make it react.
With the back of his hand, he lifted one of his eyelids and clenched his jaw in one last effort to conjure magic.
His iris suddenly shrunk under the blinding light.