Enter Abyss

Chapter 31; Outcasts.

There wasn't a crowd this time-- Galen said there never was. They didn't like watching those being thrown to the Abyss.

Thus, it was only the guards who walked Archer and the king to the edge of the kingdom, where the eternal darkness crowded like a heavy wall against the faint glimmer of light from their lanterns.

"This is madness!" Archer yelled, "Galen is your king. He has served you faithfully all these years!"

But the guards stayed silent, none of them even bothering to look him in the eye.

"Archer..." Galen whispered, his voice hoarse, "Please stop... It won't make things better."

They walked for a bit longer, coming to pause at the very edge of the blackness. Peering through it, Archer could not see even two paces infront of him-- the darkness so resolute that it echoed the feeling of comlete nothingness, as if the world simply ended right there.

It was then that the guards shoved them uncerimoniously forward and Archer lost all sense of direction.

No longer could he see the lanterns they had carried. It was as if they had been snuffed out completely, leaving not even a speck of light. He peered around, trying to catch sight of Galen, fear clawing its way up his throat. Wildy, he whipped around, calling the king's name until he felt a hand grab him weakly on the shoulder.

"Archer?"

"Blimey, Galen, I thought I'd lost you..." 

"Keep close. I can see slightly, but not by much. Here, take my hand, I'll guide you."

Feeling up to his shoulder, Archer quickly found Galen's hand and tightly lacd his fingers through the king's own. Then, with shaking steps, he let him lead them through the pitch darkness.

At first, it was rather slow going-- Archer could see nothing of his feet, or his hands, or Galen's form-- and he would only take slow, hesitant steps, always afraid he would trip and fall into some large hole and be stuck there forever. Soon, however, they began to pick up the pace, and once or twice Galen lit a magical fire in his palm which made it possible for them to see one another. Nevertheless, it was too weak a flame for them to make out any of their surroundings and it drained Galen's energy too fast, thus, for most of their journey they walked in darkness.

"Where are we going?" Archer asked suddenly, his curiousity still managing to spark in the midst of their current situation. 

Galen answered after a slight pause. "I haven't the faintest idea. There is nothing for us here but death."

"Then why bother?" Tears pricked at Archer's eyes, and he brushed them agrily away with an invisible arm. "If we're going to die then why are we still walking?"

"Because I have hope. A foolish hope, but hope nontheless. I do not think my Ancestors intended for me to die here, nor you."

"But even if we do survive, we can't go back."

The king was silent. So much so that Archer thought he was having trouble breathing until Galen spoke once more. "Even if we can't, we must. My people need me--"

"Your people betrayed you!"

He felt Galen squeeze his hand slightly. "They are lost. Confused. They think my brother will offer them freedom, but I know of the armies of the surface world-- of the armies your mother told me of when my brother was too busy training to listen. Nay, I listened, and I know. I know that if my people go to war, they will be slaughtered. And that, dear friend, is why we must go back."

Archer sighed, blinking in the nothingness. "When? When will we go back?"

"The moment I think up a plan."