From the Ashes- Chapter 1 (In which We Walk Around for a Very Long Time)
"Well, I think I can stand up now..." Saturos mutters after a few minutes, and slowly gets to his feet. "We should try and see if there are other ways out of this place."
I nod, and rise to my feet as well. "I think I've recovered just enough psynergy to light this place up," I say, snapping my fingers. To my immense relief, a small flame apparates in my palm, giving off a soft light. I raise my hand above our heads and survey the area as best I can.
The room we're in now is cavernous and damp. The only bit of light that we had earlier was coming from above us- a narrow pinprick of golden light. I shudder involuntarily. Were we further below the surface than I had originally thought? Cautiously, we move forward, stopping every few feet and checking around us.
After stumbling about for what seems like hours, we come across a narrow tunnel in the wall. Saturos looks at me as if to say something, but he doesn't speak. He just nods, and squeezes himself inside the passageway. I follow suit. The tunnel eventually branches out to the extent that we're able to walk side by side. The ground also appears to be sloping upwards, which is a good sign that we're at least headed towards the surface… I hope.
We walk in silence for a while, until the gentle slope of the ground ends, and a steep incline begins. Great, we're going to have to climb in our exhausted and battered states. This day just keeps getting better. Saturos offers to let me start climbing first, to which my reply is a sharp jab to his arm.
"OW! What was that for, Menardi?!" Saturos gasps, clutching his arm. I glare at him and point to my dress. "Yes, it's a lovely dress, Menardi," he says, (despite the fact that it is in poor condition at the moment) "but I don't see what that has… to do… with…" Saturos trails off as comprehension dawns on his face. "Wait, aren't you wearing leggings under your dress?"
"Yes, but I still don't want you staring at my butt, clothed or not," I reply. Saturos' face flushes red for a moment, and I think I hear him mutter something, though I'm not sure what it is.
"Alright then," my companion sighs, "I'll go up first." Saturos then starts to make his way up the rocky path, and I follow suit.
Our way up is slow and treacherous. Saturos now holds a flame in one of his hands, lighting our path. My flame is still glowing steadily. We're very lucky that this isn't a sheer cliff face, or we would have no means of climbing it with just one hand. Just when it seems as if we'll be climbing forever, the ground levels out. We both sigh in relief, only to wince when we look in front of us.
"Oh no," I groan, looking at the solid wall in front of us, "A dead end! Damn it…"
"Maybe not…" Saturos says, crouching. He points to a small hole in the wall, which is large enough for a single (but rather large) person to fit through. Saturos, having learned from the previous pain in his arm, volunteers to go first. Surprisingly, it's not long until he calls out, "It's clear!" I crouch down and crawl through the hole.
Once the other side, I brush the dust and dirt off of me. I glance around briefly. "Where do you think we are?" I ask softly, not wanting to disturb whatever creatures might be lurking in the darkness.
Saturos furrows his brow for a second, and then replies, "If I had to guess, I'd say we're somewhere below Lalivero."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because," he says pointedly, "I can hear voices above us—and they all seem to be talking about one thing-"
"--Sheba." I finish for him, finally picking up on the sounds coming from above us. Are we in someone's basement? My answer comes to me when Saturos stumbles over a few sacks of what appears to be grain lying on the floor. He catches himself, though, and we carry on.
Ahead of us, there's a heavy oak door set into the rock. Saturos tries the handle, but the door doesn't budge. "Locked…" he grumbles.
"We could always burn it down," I suggest.
"And draw attention to ourselves?" he says incredulously. "There's got to be another way, Menardi. Burning everything in our way isn't always the best course of action."
"You're no fun at all," I say, sighing. "Stand back, I'm going to try something else." Saturos eyes me suspiciously. "No, I'm not going to break it down. I'm going to pick the lock."
"What? When did you—how did you learn how to do that?" Saturos exclaims.
"Felix taught me," I reply. And so I begin picking the lock, and launch into a story that explains how this unusual skill came to me.
Three years ago, when we rescued Felix and his parents from a raging stream, we took the boy in and taught him how to fight. We knew we'd need a Venus adept, and while his father and that man named Kyle were experienced, Saturos insisted that he saw great potential in Felix. So, the boy became our student. Saturos trained him in battle, and I trained him in psynergy.
One day, when Saturos was done training him, he went to go study his psynergy with me. Unfortunately, all of my books were locked in the closet, and in a fit of adolescent rage, my little sister Karst had thrown the key into the river (boy, did I ever ground her for that one). Felix asked me what was wrong, so I told him of the circumstances. Then, to my surprise, he said it was no big deal, and that he could open the door for me. I was curious at first, but when he asked if I had a pin, I knew what he was up to.
While he picked the lock, Felix explained to me that he had learned this skill because Jenna would often lock him out of the house when he annoyed her, and he finally got sick of standing outside waiting for her to cool down. Before I knew it, the closet door was open and Felix was standing there with a smug grin on his face. I asked him if he would teach me how to do that, and he agreed to do so. That was one of the rare moments where we bonded a little.
Back in the present, I almost have the door unlocked. Just a little more, I think. When I hear a "click," I know I've succeeded in my endeavor. I crack open the door and grin. Saturos just shakes his head and smiles.
What awaits us on the other side of this door? It could be angry Laliverans. It could be a horrifying monster. Personally, I think I'd rather deal with the monster. Saturos and I nod to each other, and then throw the door open.
A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry that it's been a while since I've written anything for this fic. I had writer's block, like, really bad. That, and I've always been sort of picky when it comes to my writing. I'm not a perfectionist by any means, but I do like to make sure that my stories are at least readable.
Menardi: And why the hell are you writing from my point of view, again?
Me: Eh, I thought it would be interesting. The story seems to flow better that way.
Menardi: Ah. Well, as long as you don't muck things up too much, I suppose I won't have to kill you.
Me: Um, thanks?
I'm not gonna beg for reviews or anything, but it'd be nice to have some feedback. So, if you feel like writing a review, I heartily encourage you to do so. Also, don't expect the next chapter for a while, unless I have a sudden burst of inspiration. I gotta think these multiple-chapter-story-things through. Smell ya later, folks! (On a side note, don't you just hate it when authors end a chapter in a cliffhanger? Ah, but it garners interest in the story, I suppose.)