Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

Episode 50: Wrings The Wings: Part 9

It was as if the very air around Fheniz thickened with the weight of the unknown. The plateau, which had once stood as a natural barrier between the familiar world and whatever lay beyond, now seemed to beckon him into its mysterious depths. Every step he took down the uneven terrain resonated with a sense of purpose, driven by the gnawing emptiness within him. Fheniz was used to the monotony of life, but today was different. Today, the world as he knew it had been obliterated, and he was determined to escape the ruins left in its wake.

The descent down the opposite side of the plateau was treacherous. The rocks were loose and jagged, but he pressed on, his bare feet and hands scraping against the rough surface. Fheniz didn't care about the physical discomfort; his mind was a storm of thoughts, each one pushing him further away from the world above. As he maneuvered his way down, something caught his eye—a wide gap in the side of the plateau, an opening that seemed out of place in the rugged landscape.

The crack was vast, much larger than any fissure he had encountered before. The earthquake must have caused it, he reasoned, but there was something unnatural about it, something that stirred his curiosity. "Not like anyone's waiting for me at home," he muttered to himself, as he cautiously approached the opening.

The darkness within was inviting, a void that seemed to promise an escape from the chaos and despair that had consumed his life. With a deep breath, Fheniz stepped inside, letting the shadows envelop him. The temperature dropped noticeably, the cool air brushing against his skin like a whisper. It was pitch black, and his eyes struggled to adjust. He felt his way forward, his hands brushing against the cold stone walls as he navigated the unknown.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him gave way, and he found himself sliding uncontrollably down a steep incline. For what felt like an eternity, Fheniz tumbled through the darkness, his body buffeted by unseen forces until he finally hit the ground with a painful thud. "Oww!" he exclaimed, the sound echoing through the cavernous space.

He lay there for a moment, catching his breath. The darkness was comforting, soothing even, as if it was absorbing the pain in his body. But Fheniz knew he couldn't stay there forever. With a groan, he pushed himself up, wincing as he felt the bruises forming on his body. The silence was absolute, and for a moment, he simply sat there, letting the quiet wash over him.

After what felt like an eternity, Fheniz decided to explore the space he had stumbled into. He took a cautious step forward, and as he did, something underfoot clicked. A split second later, the entire chamber was flooded with light, revealing a sight that took his breath away.

Above him, suspended from the ceiling, was a massive chandelier, its 800 flames flickering to life in unison. The light it cast was warm and golden, chasing away the shadows and illuminating the grandeur of the space around him. Fheniz stood in awe, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight before him.

The chandelier was not just an ordinary fixture. It was a marvel of engineering, with intricate designs and mechanisms that hinted at a level of craftsmanship far beyond anything Fheniz had ever seen. The chandelier was connected to a series of wires and pulleys, each one carefully arranged to ensure that the flames lit up in perfect synchrony. It was clear that this was no accident; someone had gone to great lengths to set this up.

Fheniz looked down at the floor where he had stepped, noticing a faint outline of what appeared to be a switch embedded in the stone. The switch was connected to a series of wires that snaked their way up the walls and into the chandelier. Whoever had designed this had done so with precision and intent, but the question remained—who, and why?

As the light filled the chamber, Fheniz began to see the details of the room he was in. It was a vast hall, with high ceilings and walls covered in an ancient language that he could not decipher. The symbols were intricate and strange, their meanings lost to time, but there was something about them that felt important, as if they were telling a story that Fheniz was meant to understand.