The path into Mythica's earthen world was a descent into darkness, lit only by faintly glowing moss that clung to the cavern walls like patches of starlight.
The air grew heavier with every step, filled with the earthy tang of damp stone and a faint metallic bite, like the breath of something ancient. It was the kind of place where murmurs seemed louder, and every drip of water resounded endlessly.
Agnos perched on my shoulder, his golden eyes gleaming faintly in the gloom. The small cat—who I had to keep reminding myself was a god—seemed utterly at ease, his tail flicking lazily.
"I don't like this," I muttered, my voice swallowed by the oppressive silence.
"Good," Agnos said, his voice soft but sharp. "Fear keeps you alert. Alertness keeps you alive. You'll appreciate the view later."
"Oh, great pep talk. I feel so much better now."
