A flicker of anxiety danced in my chest, the unsettling notion that the vines might turn rogue and strike while I was at my most vulnerable. Yet, they remained docile, as if respecting the fragile truce between us. Biter clung to me, its blossom resting gently on my head, leaves curling protectively around me. We ventured down the winding stone staircase, the dim light fading into an oppressive darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly before us. An air of foreboding enveloped us, the steps of the adventures echoing like a heartbeat in the silence, as if we were willingly walking into the gaping maw of a slumbering beast. The knowledge that the dungeon itself was alive only deepened our collective anxiety, a reminder that we were not merely explorers, but prey in a world that thrived on fear.
Flickering yellow flames from the torches illuminated the abyss, their light barely piercing the veil of darkness, enough to guide the cautious but not enough to lift the oppressive gloom that hung like a shroud. I hovered silently in the upper recesses of the stairwell, a phantom cloaked in shadow.
At the base of the stairs, a sweeping archway beckoned, its swirling cerulean glow hinting at mysteries beyond comprehension. The adventurers faltered, caught in a moment of hesitation, until Max, with a determined heart, pushed through the throng, drawn to the portal's enigmatic allure.
"Okay, check it out! I'm gonna charge in first and if it's all good, I'll wave you in like a champ! This gadget? It's a locking thingy that some dungeons have! It stops those annoying mobs from jumping between levels! I've totally tackled this kind of thing before, so I got this!" said Max.
Max twirled the handle of his axe, a dance of defiance, before stepping into the undulating embrace of the azure portal. Moments later, his hand emerged from the shimmering veil, beckoning the others with an urgent flourish. Ryder's brow furrowed in doubt, yet he stepped into the unknown, followed closely by the rest, each one swallowed by the ethereal light. As the last adventurer vanished, I stepped through, the portal sealing behind me with a whisper, leaving only a stone-laden archway in its wake. A shiver of trepidation coursed through me as I gazed at the remnants of our passage, a sense of confinement tightening around my heart. The path ahead was now the only escape.
In a boundless space that felt both inviting and foreboding, we stood beneath an expansive sky, the sun's fading light draping the world in a somber hue. Before us lay a grand flower garden, its beds bursting with life, each petal a brushstroke of nature's artistry. Yet, encasing this beauty was a towering hedge, dense and formidable, its long thorns sharp as daggers, glimmering with a ghostly green fluid that pulsed with an otherworldly energy.
A winding path meandered through the garden, brushing against the archway and vanishing into the shadows beyond. This path, paved with luminous white bricks, emitted an otherworldly glow, casting an ethereal light upon the surroundings. At the heart of the garden stood a towering clock tower, its relentless ticking echoing through the stillness, the hands racing at an unnatural pace. Nearby, a grand fountain of alabaster stone gushed forth water, adorned with six exquisitely carved angels frozen in various poses, their robes intricately detailed. Beyond the clock tower, a sprawling maze of thorny hedges loomed, a labyrinthine challenge for the unwary. Perched atop the clock tower was a larger angel, its gaze fixed upon the maze, one hand gesturing toward its depths while the other clutched the tower's pinnacle. Flanking the path were formidable statues of mythical beasts: a lion with a scorpion's tail, its silent roar echoing in the air, a coiled stone serpent poised to strike fifteen feet in length, and a massive boar with spiraled horns, towering at six feet. Among them stood a slender woman, her skin resembling the gnarled bark of ancient trees, her hair cascading like the branches of a weeping willow. Her face, etched with sorrow and regret, bore the weight of untold stories in her stone-cold eyes.
"I propose we take a moment to dine here before we embark on our next leg," Ryder said, noting the serene atmosphere, which, despite the eerie figures, offered a view that was not wholly uninviting.
They ambled down the path, the hollow thuds of their feet reverberating against the stone until they reached a flowerbed with three benches lining the left side of the forked trail. They settled onto the benches, pulling out their food and water to enjoy a lunch break. At that moment, Herald noticed his bracelet was missing and deduced it must have fallen in the cave, which only heightened his resolve to escape the dungeon quickly to retrieve it. Meanwhile, Max shared some of his supplies with Harald, since he always packed extra provisions.
Armed with the missing provisions, I flew down the right side of the forked path and landed beside a colorful flowerbed. I grabbed my small canteen of water, using the cap as a handy cup. From my storage bracelet, I pulled out some dried meat and a piece of bread. I poured a splash of water onto the dirt at the flowerbed's edge.
"Alright Biter, hop into that dirt and soak up the water while I enjoy my food! Care to nibble on some of this dried meat?"
The tiny flower hopped off my shoulders and made its way to the soil, eagerly embedding its roots into the earth. Its petals swayed back and forth until it spotted a small green beetle, and with a swift motion, it lunged forward, capturing the bug in its mouth and swallowing it with delight. The flower wiggled its stem in pure joy, clapping its two leaves together as it absorbed every drop of moisture from the ground. Meanwhile, I poured another couple of capfuls of water into the soil while enjoying my meal and drink next to Biter.
Just a fleeting quarter of an hour had slipped by when the clocktower's chime echoed through the air, a hauntingly beautiful melody that sent shivers down their spines. They momentarily lifted their gaze from their plates, only to be drawn back to their meal. Yet it was the second chime, a mere fifteen minutes later, that truly unnerved them. As they looked up, the clock revealed that four hours had vanished since they began their lunch, and while a fast-moving clock might usually elicit little more than a shrug, it was the transformation of the sky that truly captivated their attention. The previously muted glow of the peculiar sky had transformed into a breathtaking canvas of sunset colors, even though the hour for twilight was still far off. A palpable tension enveloped the surroundings, thick and suffocating as if an enigmatic force was suspended in a breathless hush, waiting for the inevitable.
Coming Next Time: The Garden at Twilight