The class came to an end, and the students began asking him all sorts of questions. 'Where the stones were found', 'How they gave the holders power', 'What happened if a stone was destroyed'. For most of these, Luma didn't have an answer. And this ticked him off.
He took pride in the fact that he was at an instructors level when it came to the stones, which made him realize that even they would not be able to answer these questions. The elders had done a good job at making sure these questions were nipped in the bud before the youth got to their rising. But now that they were put in front of him again, he was curious, deathly so.
What exactly was so dangerous about this information? Was it really being kept from everyone for the good of the tribe, or was it that they feared the tribe would become something else... something more, if they were to partake of it.
"What about whisperers? What stones do whisperers hold?" someone asked, snapping Luma out of his daze.
He took a few moments to process the question.
"The whisperers?" he whispered to himself. He'd been taught that the whisperers were not like other inferi, they did not need crutches like the stones to use the gifts of the sun. They were the chosen few to who the sun had given authority to voice it's word.
However he had a theory.
He gave a side glance to the watcher before smiling.
If the elders mean to keep secrets from us, then I will share ideas of my own, he thought to himself, before turning to look up at the sun.
"Hmm, you know, they say the whisperers don't hold any power stones, and that the sun itself has given authority to them," he said. "So I suppose they hold the sun," he said.
Silence descended over the class.
A student hesitantly raised their hand.
"Yes?"
"The sun? How can anyone hold the sun?" she asked.
Luma shrugged. "It's right there," he said. "If we hit it with a pickaxe, I imagine a piece of it will break off, much like any other power stone."
A few student's gasped, another few raised their hands excitedly, while most of them stared at Luma as if he had killed their parents.
The watcher grabbed Luma by the collar of his tunic, twisting his skin underneath. "I warned you," she hissed in his ears.
"This class is over," she announced to the others. "Remember, that he is still young, and has not learned everything about the stones," she continued, before looking down at him. "It is not uncommon for people to make up lies when they do not know the answer to something."
With that he was dragged out of the class like a piece of buggage.
"What about the tunic!" a few of the students shouted. "You promised you would tell us."
However Luma found that he could no longer speak. The breathable cloth over his mouth had become warm all of a sudden, and his lips had been numbed.
Once they were back to the cavernheart, the watcher let Luma go. One wouldn't have guessed that she was this strong from her slender frame.
"So where are you taking me now?" he asked, noting that streaks of orange had begun to consume the sun, meaning that it would be night soon.
"Keep quiet," she snapped, before touching her stone eye.
Luma took a seat on the ground. He had accomplished all he'd wanted to do. If he could get the youth to question things around them, then perhaps more of them would notice the injustices against them when their rising came. And perhaps less Guzla's would die without punishment.
As the watcher spoke with the chieftain, Luma stared at all the different people walking up and down the cavernheart. Tunnelers, healers, labour workers checking in on the statues around the area.
But those that fascinated him the most were the wandering merchants. They stood out because of their clothing. Unlike the different colored cloaks the people of his tribe wore, merchants were dressed in sand-brown layered robes, with long scarves wrapped around their heads so that only their eyes showed.
They rode wagons pulled by wylves, tamed terra beasts as tall as a full grown adult.
He'd been taught that they mainly traded water on behalf of the angels. Rare minerals found in the expiditions were given in exchange. Why they would want useless minerals for was a mystery to everyone in the tribe, however they were just happy to have a source of water.
But what are they using the minerals for? Luma thought. He felt like there was so much around him that made no sense, and it was those exact things that he was certain the elders had a play in.
The elders, huh?
"No. Chieftain find someone else. I have a child at home," Luma heard the watcher whisper. She had been straining to keep her voice down, but it seemed she was at her limit.
"Chieftain, I meant no disrespect, however—"
Luma stood up, suddenly interested in the conversation.
"Of course I am dedicated to my post, it's just—"
"Yes. Yes. Of course chieftain," she said, her tone more submissive now. " I understand. I will bring my report at first light."
Her hand dropped limply from her stone eye, and she turned to stare hesitantly at Luma.
With a sigh, "You will sleep at my place today," she said, before walking off.
Her place?
That was suprising. He had assumed he would sleep in a holding centre, or one of the prison accomodations. However he could not say that he didn't like the arrangement. After all, among the people of the tribe the watchers were by far the wealthiest.
Security was an expensive matter, and the rare few who could fill in that role were paid handsomely.
"Hurry up," the watcher shouted back, before starting into a half jog.
Luma picked up the pace, but found that no matter how fast he ran, he could not keep up with her, despite the fact that she didn't even seem to be exerting herself.
They ran into the production quarter —where tunnelers dropped of their minerals to be separated, indentified, and stored. The watcher seemed to be heading for one of the factories —stone structures covered in listener stones.
"Ah, shouldn't you slow down?" Luma asked hesitantly, "I don't know if you see it, but there's a wall over ther—"
"Hold still," the watcher interrupted, before lifting him by the collar of his tunic. She held him out infront of her, and increased her speed towards the wall.
She's gone mad! She's trying to kill me, Luma thought, fighting to free himself from her grasp. However her vyse was like iron, not giving him an inch, and all the kicks he landed on her felt like they had hit a boulder instead of flesh.
"Stop!" he shouted, closing his eyes right as they made impact with the wall.
"You can stop crying now," the watcher said, before dropping him.
Luma opened one eye hesitantly. "I'm... okay?" he whispered.
The scene around him was completely different from anything he had ever seen before. Structures made of smooth stone, and painted with various dyes stood all around him. The ground was covered in purple moss, and a cold blue sun was embedded in the cieling.
"Where— where are we?"
The watcher stared down at him, before looking out at the scenary.
"That information is secret."