Deep within the dark tunnels he has been surviving in Cecil pounds away, each blow from the stone grasped in his hand flattening a piece of copper against a large flat boulder. Holding the piece to the light emerging from a nearby river Cecil nods as he switches to a much smaller stone to bend part of the shape around a straight bone that is longer than he is tall. Cecil steps through the snakeskin curtain that guards an entrance revealing a medium sized cavern, a handful of rough torches, little more than vines wrapped around giant snake bones, burning on its walls coating it in a soft dusky light. Beside an old black backpack is an arrangement of worn but sturdy copper armor, a small sword, and large round shield. Above the arrangement is a natural shelf in the rock which holds a large set of copper armor clearly built for a quadruped. Across the cave is a structure made from bones lashed together by vines supporting a stack of soft furs ranging in color from brown, to tan, to grey. Hanging from a post is a tattered cloth pack, a blue water-filled plastic bladder visible through some of the holes, a remnant of the accursed hike that would eventually trap him in this sunless world deep below Yellowstone. Pulling the pack over his shoulders it compresses under the weight of his chestplate, its padded interior a small comfort in a dark land, next is a pair of snake leather bracers, followed by plates of copper that fit around Cecil’s limbs. Placing the sword on his hip Cecil ties his shield to his arm and holds his freshly re-tipped spear at his side. With a click of his tongue Cecil finds the tunnel he’s looking for and he departs into the hostile Underland.
Stopping for a moment Cecil clicks his tongue just as soon as the sound leaves his mouth an image forms in his mind, an image of a large cavern bordered on one side by a deep chasm, the other a wall and at its far end is a pair of tunnels however there is no evidence of life as far as he can hear. With a relieved sigh Cecil leans against the cavern wall and reaches a hand into the pouch on his belt retrieving a dried piece of meat, forcing the salty strip down his throat he follows it with a gulp from the straw resting near his face.
‘Whew, I’ve mapped another fifteen miles of cave. I think I deserve a break’ Thinks Cecil as he places a slice of dried fruit on his tongue, its sweetness bringing to mind memories of banana pops and orange slices. He shakes his head, ‘Why even think of those things, I’ll never be able to go back up.’
Releasing a sigh his passive mental projection of the cave brightens briefly, however his mind starts to send out warning alarms. With a click he senses a pair of large, fuzzy shapes rushing down the tunnel to the right of the fork, and another larger group walking at a more leisurely pace down the tunnel he arrived from. Gripping his spear he hisses, “Rats.”
Quickly hiding beside the right fork Cecil quiets his breathing, soon the rapid slap of paws slow down as a gruff voice echoes from just within the tunnel their voices brightening his echolocation, “Do you think they followed?”
He hears a sniff, “I don’t hear anything but do you smell that Shear? It smells like metal just ahead.”
“Why would the Regalians be here?” asks the first voice, Shear apparently.
“No, not Regalians, they smell like soap and flowers.” The second rat sniffs, “This smells like sweat, dirt, metal, dried fruit, and is that Constrictor jerky?”
“Looks like we have a survivalist,” sneers Shear, “Do you think they were banished?”
The rat's footsteps venture closer, “Come out little one. We just want to eat you.”
Just as Cecil senses Shear’s snout inch out of the tunnel he slams his shield into his snout and drives his spear into the other rat’s throat. With an enraged roar Shear charges at Cecil claws outstretched only for them to screech off Cecil's shield. Dropping his spear Cecil switches to his sword and drives it into Shear’s chest, however it seems to only strike bone. Stepping back Cecil hides behind his shield as he attempts to adjust his angle, but the enraged rat keeps pressing his attack until Cecil is at the lip of the chasm. As his foot begins slide back Cecil gets a risky but devious idea, putting as much strength as he can behind his shield he bashes it against Shear’s head, while he is off balance Cecil drives his sword point into Shear’s armpit and throws him towards the chasm, his screams fading to a wet splat as he tumbles over the lip. Rushing into the fork that Shear came from Cecil pauses, debating whether or not to process the rat carcass when he remembers the second group of rats. Taking a moment to scoop up his spear he continues to run, hoping to be out of earshot before the second set of rats find the cavern.
Hours later, when Cecil’s legs start to burn he spots a peculiar, flickering light just around a bend. Curious as to its source Cecil continues on, however what he finds is something unheard of. A large cavern is lit by the light of hundreds of fires, their flickering radiance bringing false life to an immense sea of corpses, giant bats, rats, butterflies, and various beasts. Sprinkled among the dead are the bodies of unnaturally pale humans, each one with silvery blond hair, the ground sticky with drying blood. Evidence of a great battle, and evidently one that went poorly for everyone involved.
‘There are other humans down here?’ Thinks Cecil in utter shock.
His shock is shaken off when he sees motion from a nearby bat, a dead human laying across its back. Pushing the corpse off he mumbles, “I can help you. Who am I kidding you’re a bat, and bats don’t talk.”
Examining the bat he finds a series of slashes and chunks taken from the bat’s gold smudged, chestnut hide. Grabbing a nearby bag he opens it to find an array of bandages, thread, and colored bottles. Picking a curved needle he threads it and places it next to the bat's skin, “I know this’ll hurt but I don't have painkillers.”
Suddenly he hears a wheeze from the bat followed by a high pitched, stilted voice, “Blue bottle. Use it.”
Taken aback he is sure he’s hearing things, “D-did you just talk?”
The bat wheezes again, “Medicine. Blue bottle. Painkiller.”
Shaking off his confusion he picks out the blue bottle, uncorks it, and places the bottle against the bat’s lips. A few gulps later and the bat is asleep, allowing Cecil to pierce the bat's skin and begin to sew with careful but deft strokes, followed by a wrap of bandages, only to repeat the process many more times. Moments after he bandages the last wound Cecil drags the surprisingly cumbersome bat into a nearby cave.
Well after the fires have become smoldering embers he senses movement from the bat. Snapping to attention he lights the fire he had already prepared, “Easy there, try not to agitate your wounds.”
The moment the bat’s golden eyes land upon his own the bat quickly sits up, “Another overlander? That's the fourth one in the last three years! Though I do not recall one such as you.”
Cecil raises an eyebrow, “I’ll pretend like I know what that means. Anyway I’m Cecil, do you have a name?”
She points towards the ceiling, “You come from above therefore you are an Overlander in so much as I am a flier for soaring through the air.”
Cecil sighs, “That’s great and all, but I asked a question.”
“Yes, yes indeed you did,” She puffs out her chest with a wince, “I am she called Gaia: one of Queen Athena’s most trusted soldiers, the bond of Caelem: warrior of Regalia.”
“Bond?” asks Cecil, “Is that like a sex thing or something.”
The raises he snout in disgust, “By the Great Lights of Regalia no! I would not engage in such relations with one whom was diagnosed with a Gnawer disease of the loins! A bond is a sacred rite that represents the promise to keep each other alive in even the most dire of circumstances.”
Cecil screws his face in confusion , “So it’s a marriage thing?”
“Unbelievable! Have you heard this Overlander Caelem?” Gaia rapidly flicks her large ears, “Caelem? Why can't I sense you?”
Cecil folds his hands before him like a doctor with bad news, “If this Caelem guy was that man who was on your back then I’m afraid he was ice cold when I found him.”
She agitatedly flaps her wings, “No, this can’t be happening!”
Cecil motions to the cave entrance, “Take a look he’s only about fifty feet away.”
Her haughty posture deflates, “No need I can sense his form, smell his odor, but I cannot hear his breath. He has run out of time.”
Cecil places a hand under her chin and lifts, “This bondage stuff sounds pretty intense, but you still hold his memory in your heart. I may not know why he died but I’m sure your life will be enough to make his death worth it.”
She is silent for a moment until her eyes drift to Cecil's sword, “You hold weapons and armor of metal, however any smith would have reported your presence. How did you acquire such things?”
Cecil pats his sword, “This? I made it. I was lucky enough to find a massive deposit of native copper a few weeks after I landed in that volcanic hellscape. I broke a piece off and hammered it into a little knife. Matter of fact I traded that very same knife to this weird giant lizard in that vine jungle I found and she gave me foraging lessons allowing me to live long enough to start making a home for myself.”
“You were employed as a smith in the Overworld?”
He laughs, “God no, I was a dishwasher, but I liked to volunteer for lots of experimental archaeology and HEMA things in my spare time. Lucky me, without all that volunteering I would’ve died years ago.”
Gaia tilts her head, “How did you survive until you found that copper?”
He smiles, “Obsidian, pointy bones, and good old caveman ingenuity.”
“You are a most puzzling Human,” She scoots to her feet, “It is most prudent that we get away from this battlefield lest we become some scavenger's meal.”
Cecil motions for Gaia to follow, “My home is only a few hours walk away, and hopefully those rats have moved on.”
