The cave was dark, or more accurately, dim. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of hard, pitted stone that whistled when the wind passed through. The place was damp; Evan could feel it. A cold draft filled the entire space. When he moved to the edge and touched the wall, he felt a thin layer of moss, strangely neat. The moss covering the walls and ceiling seemed arranged deliberately. There wasn't a spot where it was thicker or thinner.
For a moment, Evan thought, *What kind of lunatic would take care of moss in a place this dark?*
The sound of something falling behind him startled him. Instantly, he got into a defensive stance. His dagger was drawn in front of his chest, his legs bent—a combat-ready position.
"Ouch!"
Hearing the voice, Evan rushed back to the entrance. When he arrived, he was wide-eyed.
"What are you doing?" Evan helped Ezra stand. "Why did you follow me in? Didn't I tell you to stay with the horse or head home?"
Ezra rubbed her sore backside. This was the second time today that part of her body had slammed into something hard. She cursed silently. If only she had the money, she'd add some padding inside her trousers.
"Anyone can change their mind, and it looks like I did," she said nonchalantly, still in pain.
"But don't you have issues with this cave?" Evan asked cautiously. "I didn't force you to come. That's why I told you to stay up top!"
"You don't have the power to force me!" Ezra snapped stubbornly. "It's my decision. Do you think I came down because I was worried about you?" The girl smirked. "I just want revenge." But despite her words, Evan could see her legs trembling, slowly shifting in place.
"Are you sure you're not going to wet yourself?" That was actually Evan's real concern, the reason he had asked her to stay behind.
"No ...," she muttered. "I don't think so...." Her legs shook more violently.
Evan sighed. He wasn't sure whether to feel glad or sad about Ezra joining him on this exploration of the mysterious cave. But beyond everything, one thing was clear: Ezra was stubborn. That much he understood about the thief.
"Alright, I'll do my best to protect you."
They continued to explore the cave. It was dark, mossy, and damp. Evan was confused at how everything looked exactly the same since the moment he entered. The place wasn't pitch black, but it wasn't brightly lit either, just perpetually dim. He couldn't tell where the light was coming from. The moss, too—it fascinated Evan. It was arranged so neatly, so well-maintained, which seemed entirely out of place for plants growing in such a forsaken cave.
Noticing Evan's confused gaze as he marveled at the mossy walls and surroundings, Ezra, for the first time since their argument near the entrance, began to speak.
"This cave is always like this," she said. "Not too bright, not too dark. I don't know why. But my father and I once believed it was due to the magical influence of the Philosopher's Stone."
"You didn't even know for sure if the stone was stored here," Evan remarked, examining the cave walls. He tried to recall his academy lessons on wild plants, but none of his memories contained anything about a species of moss that could naturally arrange itself this neatly without care. He remained both amazed and uneasy. *Was it ghosts of the cave that tended to all this?*
"That's all I know." Ezra ran her hands along the stone path, then moved to the walls, inspecting the ceiling. After a moment, her face went pale.
Evan noticed. He followed her gaze, looking at the ceiling. Nothing was up there but the well-maintained moss.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He knew this had to be connected to her past experience here with her father.
Ezra closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm her racing heart while fighting the vision of fireflies dancing in her sight. For a moment, silence hung between them. Today, silence seemed to come frequently.
"Back then, right here, my father was torn apart by those cursed creatures." Ezra finally spoke after what felt like an eternity. "And he screamed at me to run. I had no other choice." She looked around again. In her vision, she saw her father crawling, bleeding profusely, with several six-legged lizards clinging to his back and legs. It felt like it had happened only yesterday. It was a nightmare.
"We've come far enough from the entrance. By now, we must be right beneath the river. Can you hear that?"
Ezra nodded. She could faintly hear the sound of water rushing overhead. It had to be the large river flowing above them.
"Will they appear here?" Evan asked, his voice tense.
"I don't know. This is only my second time here, and I can't predict anything."
But the cave answered their uncertainty.
Just after Ezra's voice faded, and the silence settled again, a sound came from deeper within. It was a scraping, like a spider crawling on thin paper. The sound was sharp. But both Evan and especially Ezra had no doubts—it wasn't a spider. It was something else, something far more terrifying than any insect.
"Evan...." Fear overtook Ezra's entire body. Without a doubt, she had now wet herself. Her pants were soaked, and the stone beneath her feet was wet.
"Damn!" Evan cursed, unsure whether it was because of the creature's presence or Ezra's accident.
He pressed himself closer to Ezra, shielding her. His dagger, which had been drawn since they first entered, was now held even tighter. But the tension was unlike anything he had ever felt before.
The sounds weren't only coming from within the cave. Slowly, over time, they started coming from the right, the left, and even from behind. Their faces grew pale.
There was a sob. Ezra began to cry. She clung to the back of Evan's cloak, hiding her face in it.
Evan sighed, irritated. In this situation, Ezra had become a burden.
From the front, deep inside the cave, glowing red orbs began to appear. Evan shuddered. This was a sensation he had never experienced before.
The orbs drew closer. When the light finally revealed what was behind them, Evan froze. His body trembled, though not as violently as Ezra's.
Six-legged lizards!
Their skin was pitch black, their bodies as large and long as full-grown crocodiles. They crawled slowly, jaws gaping wide as if to show off their gleaming golden fangs. Their tongues were forked, just like a snake's. But the most horrifying part was their heads—they were nothing like regular lizard heads. Evan would swear on his life that the heads were far more hideous and grotesque.
Though these creatures were called lizards, their faces resembled nothing of the sort—more like the head of a crocodile, but swollen and covered in boils. Their heads were covered in bumps, leaving only a pair of glowing red eyes.
"Are these the lizards?" Evan asked.
He felt a small nod against his back where Ezra was hiding her face.
His grip tightened on the knife, though it was growing slick with sweat.
"Hold on tight!" Evan ordered as he lifted Ezra, tucking her under his arm. "We're going to survive this, no matter what!"