A Dreamer's Worlds

Quintessence Keeps its Mystery (Part 5 of Eyes of the World)

 The cave was as dark as expected, but I had my lantern. The automaton didn't seem to need the wavering flame; its eyes glowed softly, giving it light to see by. I let it lead, figuring that it knew where it was going. I certainly didn't, but I'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

There wasn't any sound in the cave. No birds, no scavengers, just my soft steps and the heavy footfalls of the automaton. Moss grew on the walls and floor. If I reached up, I could feel it dangling from the ceiling.

The cave was well used; a path cut through the moss on the floor and I did my best to follow it.

The cave went downward, and soon I could hear the trickling of water making its way down with me. I swung my lantern about, nearly hitting the automaton but revealing a small stream.

I followed the stream up to where it flowed from the wall. I stuck my fingers in it, grateful for the cold, clean water. The automaton watched me, the copied. Its bony fingers brushed against mine and fought the urge to jerk back.

"Can you feel how cold it is?"

The automaton didn't respond for a moment, but soon shook its head.

"I suppose that's a good thing. It's getting chilly."

And it was. The clothes I'd gotten on the ship weren't warm enough for this. Still, we continued into the cave. It soon leveled out, the stream ending up a pond I had to jump across. The automaton merely waded through.

The cave didn't last forever, though it certainly seemed to. Eventually the cave opened up to a surface, and I had to stop for a moment.

I stood upon a cliff, looking out into a gorgeous rainforest. The trees stretched, higher than they had been when I'd arrived on the island. More spread out, too. A train could have snaked its way across the ground with ease. From my vantage point, I could see a massive waterfall dropping from a wall to my left. Its froth nearly covered the lake it created, but I could still see it and its shore from up here. The water looked clear, though I couldn't confirm that yet.

I could confirm that vines drooped from the trees like Christmas garland. Some fell to the ground, and ivy grew over every wall.

This was a place of life. I'd never seen anything so verdant, so brightly green and I couldn't imagine a more beautiful place.

Even so, I shook myself out of awe; I needed a way down. The outcrop I was on didn't seem to connect to anything else, but the ivy was certainly a tool I could use.

I tried to see if I could support my weight, but I was worried. What if I fell? From this height, death was certain.

So I stood at the edge, occasionally reaching for the ivy but shying away.

The automaton likely tired of my fear and pushed past me. It grabbed onto the ivy and swung itself onto the plant. It held.

With a long, deep breath, I followed my companion. The climb wasn't hard, but it was nerve wracking. Every glimpse down showed me that falling meant certain death, and I was by no means ready to die.

Slowly and carefully, I made my way down to the forest floor. When my feet finally touched down on the soft grass, I sank down and thanked whatever force had helped me down.

A bony hand rested on my shoulder. Perhaps I should thank the automaton, who'd brought me here and then guided me down to the forest floor.

So I did.

"Thank you." I told it. It cocked its head at me, air hissing through its jaw. When I returned home, and if the automaton returned with me, I would do my best to find parts to repair it. Where I would get those parts, I wasn't sure, thinking I would just figure it out. I never did, but that's in the future.