The Arcane Trilogy: Sins of the Past - Book 2

Chapter 25: Further Down the Rabbit Hole

Every slight wince, grunt or sharp breath that escaped from Caitlyn's perseverant form caused Vi to frequently look back to check on her partner. She would repeatedly receive a small flash of a smile of reassurance or a nonchalant dismissive wave followed by a small verbal confirmation that she was okay, but none of those attempts to appease Vi fully worked. They served only to soothe the young Zaunite with the knowledge that Caitlyn felt that she could make it to the next street.

Their progress since leaving the warehouse was slow, causing a fiery rift to burn through Vi. Every second they lost due to Caitlyn's damaged state increased the chances of her sister becoming lost to her forever, but the idea of pushing Caitlyn despite her wounds unsettled Vi just as much. As such, when Vi and Caitlyn were eventually able to rest their eyes upon one of the quieter access lifts that Vi had recalled from her childhood, the pair were both able to enjoy a brief physical and psychological moment of respite respectively. Vi was primarily pleased that none of Sevika's thugs rose to greet them when the rickety metal doors ushered them into their passage way back into the depths of the Undercity. After all, considering the weakened state that Caitlyn was in at that time, a fight was the last thing the pair needed, both for young Kirraman's physical condition and for Vi's sanity and confidence in the hunt.

Eventually, they found themselves being engulfed by the glowing green aura of Zaun as the lift slowly ushered them down into the encaged sprawling beast that was the Undercity. The lift grunted to an eventual stop, the metallic doors creeping open at a gingerly pace as metal scratched across metal. They were deposited out into a thin pathway that branched off into other small alleyways, with darkened, cold and lifeless buildings encasing the many walkways. The eerie quiet caused another uncomfortable knot to grow in Vi's stomach that would give all of the other knots that were already there some unwanted company. She felt as though a trap could have been laid and that they had both foolishly walked straight into it, but no such ambush occurred. That part of the Undercity was simply without life for whatever reason, with Vi unable to fully know why, with all of her guesses painting a bad picture for the future of the place that she once called home.

The paths that they had been following brought the pair to the first point of reference that Vi had been searching for. A huge path that dwarfed the width of the alleyways that they had been navigating since departing from the access lift. Vi's memories told her that the three major roads that led towards 'The Last Drop' were always busy and teeming with some form of life. Various stands, stalls and shops lining the walkways, beckoning all kinds of interesting individuals of varying moral codes. Unique forms of transportation zipping around, dodging and weaving through rivers of fisher folk with a nearly constant simmering bustle rolling through the vibrant streets.

However, a bleaker image presented itself to Vi.

The vibrancy was a distant memory, as a duller shade had fallen upon the Lanes, with most of the shops that inhabited the edges of the road all closed. The lack of the once usual bustle emphasised just how wide the path really was, which drew Vi's attention to the few groups of figures that were present.

Off in the distance were a group of heavily armed thugs, some of which were holding rifles that didn't possess the rough edges and mismatch of materials that were often synonymous with anything that was crafted by the ordinary Zaunite. Amongst their ranks were several unarmed individuals, but from the distance that Vi was observing them from, she couldn't tell if they were willingly travelling with the armed thugs or were being forcefully escorted. However, she could see a crate of shimmer that was being pushed around, due to the purple glow seeping through the cracks of a crate.

Turning her gaze down the other way, she spied the familiar sight of 'Jericho's', but the hulkingly large figure of the star chef could not be seen. The stall was silent, the lights that once illuminated the chopping cleaver sign were extinguished. Even the cleaver itself laid still, as if the shop had died and resembled nothing more than a skeleton.