Caius opened his eyes, but for several moments he could not remember where he was. Cold mist drifted across his face, thick enough to obscure everything beyond a few paces, while the steady roar of rushing water echoed through the darkness. His body felt heavy, every muscle aching from the plunge and their violent journey down the subterranean current.
He slowly pushed himself upright and took in his surroundings. He was resting on the rocky bank of an underground river, framed by towering walls of dark stone. Strange, ancient formations vanished into the gloom above, their damp surfaces reflecting the faint, ethereal light of the cavern. The dark water churned beside him before disappearing into the shadows.
There was no sign of Sereth.
Caius immediately checked his gear. His clothes were soaked through and his skin was bruised and scraped, but his weapons were intact. Reaching behind his back, his fingers brushed against a familiar hilt. Nightdancer was still bound to his side.
Relief washed over him. He drew the short sword just enough to confirm the blade was undamaged, marveling for a brief second at the resilient elven steel. After sheathing it, he touched his hand to his chest and checked his father’s storage ring. It remained secured on his finger.
He closed his fist around the band, and an ache sharper than his physical injuries hit him. The ring brought Cullum back to mind. In an instant, the memory of the courtyard flashed before his eyes: the looming shadow of the warlord, his father’s brave final stand, and his own raw scream as the axe fell.
Caius forced the image away. He could not afford to break down, not here in the dark. Right now, he needed to find Sereth.
He called out into the gloom, but only a hollow echo returned. Stumbling to his feet, a wave of exhaustion made his knees buckle. He braced himself against the cold rock wall, waiting patiently for the dizziness to pass before closing his eyes to summon the Eye of the Loom.
Far Sight took hold, and the darkness yielded.
The cavern transformed into a web of glowing mana signatures. Caius swept his perception outward, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to drag him under. Most of the faint lights were distant and unfamiliar, but then, farther down the bank, he caught a distinct rhythm.
It was a familiar core, weak but present.
Opening his eyes, Caius set off along the water’s edge. Every step was a battle against his trembling legs. His wet clothes clung to him in the freezing air, and the slick stone offered little footing, but he kept his gaze fixed on the faint pulse of mana ahead.
Eventually, a dark shape took form against the gray rocks.
Sereth lay motionless near the churning water. Caius rushed to his side and dropped to his knees, checking for a pulse. The dark elf was breathing, though his shallow gasps and bloody tunic warned of deep injuries. His left arm was twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Sereth," Caius called softly, but received no answer.
Knowing the damp chill of the water would prove lethal if the injuries did not, Caius looped his arms beneath Sereth's shoulders and began to haul him toward higher ground. It took every drop of his remaining strength. Sereth was far heavier than he looked, and Caius slipped multiple times on the wet stones, skinning his hands in the process. Still, he refused to let go until he dragged the dark elf onto a dry shelf of rock.
Leaving Sereth to rest, Caius searched under the nearby rock overhangs until he managed to gather a handful of dry, sheltered branches. Returning to the ledge, he labored over the kindling until a tiny flame took hold, feeding it steadily until a warm fire crackled between them.
He stripped off his heavy outer coat to dry beside the flames, sitting close enough to absorb the heat. For the first time since their terrifying plunge into the abyss, the tension in his shoulders began to ease.
The cavern was strangely peaceful. There were no battle horns, no clashing steel, and no cries of dying men, only the continuous rush of the river and the gentle popping of wood.
An hour passed before Sereth stirred. His hands twitched, and his dark eyes slowly opened to stare up at the jagged ceiling. After a moment, he turned his head toward the warmth of the fire.
Caius looked over from his spot by the hearth. "You're awake."
Sereth pushed himself up onto one elbow, a sharp breath escaping his lips as his eyes darted to his bow and gear, which Caius had neatly stacked nearby. Reaching for his left shoulder, the dark elf winced. "My arm."
"It's broken," Caius said plainly. "And your ribs, too."
Sereth closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. "The fall."
"We hit the river," Caius replied. "It saved us."
Reaching into his storage ring, Caius retrieved a small, refined pill that his father had packed among their supplies. He held the small sphere out toward the elf. "Take this. It's a healing pill."
Sereth accepted the medicine without hesitation, swallowing it down. Despite the pain, he slowly pulled himself into a cross-legged position, straightening his spine.
"What are you doing?" Caius asked. "You need to rest."
"I am meditating," Sereth answered, opening one dark eye. "Sitting around feeling pity for a broken arm will not set the bone."
Caius almost cracked a smile.
Sereth closed his eyes and regulated his breathing. Through the Eye of the Loom, Caius watched in awe as the dark elf channeled the medicinal energy from his core, guiding the flow of mana directly toward his shattered arm and cracked ribs. The magic worked in tandem with Sereth's body, knitting muscle and bone back together at a visible pace.
Hours slipped by in quiet routine. Sereth remained motionless in his deep trance while Caius tended the fire and dried their gear. By the time the dark elf finally opened his eyes and broke his posture, the color had returned to his face.
"I have recovered enough strength to move," Sereth declared, testing the fingers on his mended arm. Pain clearly lingered, but the bone was set. "The pill did its work."
"Thank you," Sereth added, looking directly at the young master.
Caius shook his head, looking down at his lap. "I didn't save you. We washed ashore together. I just dragged you out of the damp and started a fire."
A quiet, rare chuckle escaped Sereth's chest. "Is that all?"
"Yes."
Sereth looked out toward the dark, misty water with a subtle smirk. "Then I suppose I owe the river my thanks."
Caius offered a weary look, but Sereth simply closed his eyes to resume his quiet recovery.
They sat together in the warm ring of firelight as the vast darkness of the subterranean world pressed in around them. They had no map for the tunnels, no knowledge of where the current ultimately flowed, and no guarantee that Krag'gath's forces had given up the hunt.
Yet, against all odds, they were still breathing. For tonight, that was victory enough.