The Firmament Saga: Book I: The Rains of Sorrow

Chapter 17: Earthen Memories

Chapter 17: Earthen Memories (Lou)

Around 20 days after entering the tunnels

Lou turned the last meager piece of bread around and around in his fingers, mushing it into a ball. He sighed, looking around him at the lights above. The endless, unblinking waves of Lux stretched endlessly into the horizon. He looked down, his gaze falling over Thyrian. The man was slumped against the wall, his fingers in his hair. He looked like he had aged quite a significant amount in the past few weeks.

"Do you want this bread, Thyrian?" Lou asked. He had stopped using the honorific 'master' after Thyrian had respected Lou by calling him by his actual name.

"No," Thyrian grunted. "You need it more than I."

"But you haven't eaten for days," Lou protested. "Why are you giving me all the food?"

"Because you're younger than I," Thyrian answered, "And more enduring. If anyone should survive this tunnel, it's you."

"Good point," Lou admitted. "But I don't want you to die."

"Shut up and eat," Thyrian countered. "Now."

Lou wasn't in any position to disagree. The meager pieces of ration bread did barely enough to fill his stomach, and he probably would starve if he shared it with Thyrian. He popped the bread into his mouth and chewed, rolling it around his mouth. It tasted like old boots, made worse from the sweat and mustiness of spending days in a bag.

"Where are those, and I quote, 'caches of supplies,' that you said were located in this tunnel?" Lou asked. "Stories don't feed us."

"I don't know," Thyrian admitted. "Nevos told me just that they existed; he didn't tell me anything about their location or anything."

"Nevos is weird," Lou said.

"Yeah," Thyrian replied. "He told us the truth, but I don't understand him. What are his motives? Where did he come from? Where did he go?"

"I don't know," Lou said, swallowing the last of his bread. That was the last of all the food Thyrian had put in his pack, and Lou was frankly surprised that it had lasted this long. Of course, if only one person was eating, the food would remain uneaten for significantly longer.

"Let's go, Lou," Thyrian said, standing up. "Maybe we can find the caches if we move faster."

"Good idea," Lou agreed, standing up. He watched Thyrian sling his pack over his shoulder, then began to continue walking. Lou followed close behind, rubbing his forehead.

Eight or so hours later:

The tunnel abruptly... ended. Lou stood next to Thyrian, looking out in front of him. It continued on normally for another thousand feet or so, then stopped at a wall made of the same shiny material as the rest of the tunnel. As he scanned the wall, he could make out an open doorway, extending into darkness. Thyrian checked his compass, but it had been broken at some point along their travels and now spinned and sputtered aimlessly.

"Do you suppose that's a cache?" Lou asked.

"Only one way to find out," Thyrian said. Lou looked at his eyes, and saw that they were lit up in excitement. Hope began to surge through Lou. Maybe there was food, or bedding, or just plain old safety.

They walked to the doorway, which was the size of a regular door. There was another doorway on the opposite side of the latticed walkway, but that one was closed. Thyrian took a deep breath and walked through the doorway. Lou quickly followed.

If the shiny walkway had been alien and unusual in construction, the vast, square room behind was all that, albeit very grandiose and beautifully constructed. The floor was made out of polished grey stone, and was around 200 by 200 feet wide. The ceiling stretched hundreds of feet into the air, its top almost hidden in darkness. They were in a central atrium, with dozens of floors of wide balconies connected by ramps stretching up into the distance. The balconies and ramps were made of shiny metal, but the walls were made of stone. Each level had dozens of small doorways leading in and out, but only four were on the ground floor, one on each side of the room. Each door had a sign with some sort of squiggly writing on it and a crudely rendered stick figure doing something on it.