My boots waded through the shallow stream as I led the way, Starlight Grace in hand.
The caverns leading from the well were far more extensive than the alchemist had suggested. As I directed the tip of my sword into the darkness, its light caught against surfaces so high that I had to stretch my neck to see them … but not the tunnel bats that'd made their homes against the stalactites in this vast underground system.
Their eyes peppered the resounding darkness like red stars against a bleak sky. But while the sheer quantity of tunnel bats that'd made their home here may ordinarily have been cause for alarm, I had other concerns on my mind.
Namely, that the water was extremely unhealthy for the integrity of my boots.
They were hand crafted by royal commission for outdoor endeavours, yes, and could reliably step on mud, ash, saltwater and the hopes of the poor, but this wasn't a downtrodden farmer I was stepping on. It was … water.
Mossy, slimy water that dampened the colour of my boots.
And that was even worse than losing them.
The moment my outfit no longer matched, I'd have only two choices. Find a new set of clothes, or use Starlight Grace to conjure enough light that I could irrevocably damage the eyesights of everyone around me.
And right now, I was missing my wardrobe.
“Did you know that tunnel bats are blind?” said Coppelia, humming as she skipped behind me like a girl playing in a pond. “Those bloodthirsty, murderous eyes? Yep, they're just for show. They actually glow even brighter during the day. Of course, you never see them since they're usually sleeping.”
I glanced up at the litany of red dots, neither perturbed nor comforted by the thought that none of them were actually gazing back at me.
Rather, I simply could not take them seriously in the slightest.
“Bats.” I sighed. “Barely inside, and I can already see this cavern hasn't a speck of originality to it.”
“Eh?”
“It's like peering into the mind of a decrepit baron and seeing his wildest fantasy come to fruition.”
“Barons dream about bats?”
“The ones who have not received an invitation to attend a soirée in years, yes.”
I sadly shook my head.
For all their teeth, wings and claws, bats occupied a different category in my mind than heralds of the night.
To some, they were low-tier monsters fit for training new adventurers and soldiers. To me, they were a fashion statement. And a poor one, at that. Far too many nobles sought to decorate their middling towers and keeps with bats of all varieties, hoping the time-tested mystique would somehow mask the very public decline of their family lineage.
It never did.
The irony, of course, is that any noble house's fall from grace was due to this lack of familiarity with contemporary home design. Why, I had no doubt that if this cavern were put to auction, irrelevant nobles would paw at each other to make this their new villainous hideout from which to plan the usurping of my father's throne.
“Well, if you don't like bats, what about strangler crabs?”
Coppelia pointed ahead of us. A pair of deathly black pincers were briefly sighted, before they disappeared to a chorus of scuttling movement.
“Uninspired,” I replied.
“Decrepit barons stopped using them as pets ages ago, huh?”
“What? No, they still do. They simply taste awful as well.”
“... You've eaten strangler crabs before? The monster variety? Not the, 'Hey kids, Papa's going to teach you about fishing today,' kind?”
“Bland and flavourless. With a mucous-like texture. Highly do not recommend.”
I shuddered as I recalled the scene. There were many things I wanted for my 7th birthday. A horse-drawn carriage in the shape of an open seashell. A choir of my playmates singing my praises for being born wealthier than them. A fireworks display of me sitting cross-legged on a throne while laughing down at the assembled masses ...
Well, actually, I did get all of those things.
But I also got a buffet of the most strangest crustacean. What's more, it was still moving. And it's pincers were very sharp, indeed.
And that's the story of how I survived my 19th assassination attempt, aged 7.
The strangler crab tasted terrible afterwards.
“And water slimes … ?” queried Coppelia, pointing at a particularly reflective section of the wall. “Have you ever … ?”
Upon closer inspection, the shimmering of movement could clearly be seen, as could the mucus trailing behind. Only by purposefully directing my sword away could the form of the water slime be viewed, still partially aglow from the light as it half-crawled, half-bounced away from us.
I stopped, then set my frown directly at Coppelia's inquisitiveness. Predictably, she was already looking highly amused even before I gave my response.
“... Gastronomy was in a highly experimental phase at the time ...”
“It sounds like you've quite a robust palette.”
“Robust, no. Black, yes.”
Sadly, the world of gourmet dining wasn't built on stability. It was on constantly sprinting so that the quicksand wouldn't envelop you. And sometimes, those competing had no time to run. They simply had to leap.
Hence … Steak au slime was invented.
It did not last.
“You've … eaten all these things?” said the alchemist, staring at me in wonder. “Incredible! Although you appear very refined, in truth, you live off the land as much as even the most seasoned adventurer, don't you?”
I had a feeling that this woman was perhaps grossly misinterpreting how I came to be fed steak au slime.
Naturally, I nodded and accepted the praise.
“I … I suppose, by definition, yes, I certainly have lived off the creatures of this land!”
I gave a small cough and hurried ahead, valiantly ignoring both the creeping darkness and the sight of Coppelia hiding her laughter.
“I hope we find what we're looking for,” said the alchemist, somewhat absent-mindedly as she trudged along behind us. “Although right now, I'm mostly hoping that nothing worse than a water slime appears before us.”
Coppelia's sigh practically echoed around us.
“Now, if this was Ouzelia, what you just said would pretty much guarantee something dreadful will be waiting down here.”
“Huh?”
“Rules work differently in the Northern Realm. The power of stories is prevalent in every facet of life, but most often when we're courting jeopardy.”
“I … I see! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invite peril.”
“Oh, it's fine. Peril makes things more fun.”
“What?”
“What?”
The clockwork doll and the alchemist blinked at each other, each wearing vastly contrasting expressions.
Their conversation ended.
… For a short time, at least.
“Hmm, the water slimes aren't biting, are they?” said Coppelia cheerfully. “Shame, I imagine they're pretty hydrating. Great if you find yourself in a desert. They're like a bouncing oasis. Never tried one myself. I prefer green or sweet things. But I'm feeling adventurous!”
I shuddered to think that she'd willingly consume a water slime. And yet I couldn't bear to warn her against the taste. The memories were too painful to recall.
That aside, she did raise a fair point.
“Why have we not been attacked yet?” I asked, turning my light around the tunnels, only to witness the scuttling form of another strangler crab already moving away from us. “I was led to believe that monsters attacked indiscriminately.”
“Most monsters do,” replied Coppelia. “But weak monsters have a unique flight instinct. It's the only way to survive in a cruel world full of murderous adventurers. They're exceptionally good at identifying powerful threats.”
I raised a querying eyebrow at Coppelia.
“Do they detect your absurd level of physical strength and flee from it, then?”
In response, Coppelia grinned and turned to the young woman walking closely behind us, her wide eyes constantly darting in all directions.
“Hmm, who knows? Maybe our alchemist is secretly super strong?”
Marlena … Marina blinked in surprise, then rapidly shook her head.
“Um, I'm not sure why they're not attacking. But I do have a monster repelling potion in my satchel. Maybe they can sense it … ?”
“Well, whatever the cause, we should take full advantage,” I said. “My attire is at risk enough without water slimes further dampening it.”
I received fervent agreement from our alchemist as we trundled along, free from attacks by the inhabitants of this cavern.
Buoyed by the lack of opposition, we pressed on through the cavern until we entered a smaller chamber filled with a central basin of water. Here, no tunnel bats plagued the ceiling and no strangler crabs tried to give me flashbacks, but that didn't mean there was no life.
It was, in fact, teeming with it.
Long strands of wet greenery blanketed the walls almost like a net, the strands and leaves interwoven like a circus of green as it stretched out from the pool of shimmering water.
“My … how peculiar!”
Unless my studies of horticulture were very much mistaken, this was seaweed—or at least something similar. But these weren't the bedrocks near a shoreline or the wooden joints of a dock that the weeds found themselves clutched against. It was a chamber deep beneath the earth, devoid of even the shallowest hint of the sky or saltwater.
This basin of water was either connected to more than a regular reservoir, or these seaweeds were a unique new variety!
“What a magnificent amount of life,” said the alchemist, her wide eyes taking in the tapestry of green. “It appears to be … well, weeds. But to be found underground is remarkable!”
I nodded, sharing the appreciation. I spun around while pointing the tip of my sword towards each wall in turn.
“Either they don't require sunlight to grow, or they're able to survive long periods without access to it. But how would they come to be here, I wonder?”
Suddenly, the alchemist gasped.
“Wait—look! Look where you just shone the light! Keep your sword away for a moment and look!”
I did as asked and peered away from where I was directing Starlight Grace.
Only then did I notice the glittering in the darkness.
It was like hundreds of jewels lighting up where the light had receded, as though having absorbed the radiance from my sword. Stepping closer, I leaned in and spied to my surprise the clear crystalline spines.
“Arcana crystals,” I remarked. “Now, this truly is a boon.”
It was the crystalline mineral prized among mages, and in turn, shopkeepers. The light absorbent crystals which were a crucial reagent in the crafting of mana potions, a lifeline for mages at risk of suffering from magical burnout induced nausea.
Though by no means rare, it was practically unheard of for a mineral deposit to be discovered so far from the eastern mountain ranges where so much of our mining industry takes place. A discovery such as this needed to be properly documented, and the size and quality of the deposit surveyed.
A rush of excitement coursed through me as I tip-toed from glimmer to glimmer, assessing each shine with a rudimentary appraisal that could glean nothing other than the fact that this was a precious opportunity.
Nor was I the only one to spot this.
“Gosh, what a magnificent sight!” exclaimed the alchemist, her eyes almost shimmering as much as the precious crystals. “Arcana crystals. Here of all places. Beneath Rolstein. I never thought such a thing was possible!”
I nodded. I didn't think so, either. But that was mostly because I never gave Rolstein any thought whatsoever.
“A precious find, and worthy of a dismal climb down a dilapidated well.”
“I had no idea … in all the records I've seen of Rolstein's history, no mention has ever been made of arcana crystals.”
“Ohhohoho! Rejoice, for where there are precious reagents, there are profits, and where there are profits, there are taxes to be reaped!”
“... Huh?”
“T-Taxes … as in, taxes to ensure the building of new roads and watchposts, to ensure the security and economic prosperity of this new opportunity!”
Yes, indeed! The Miner's Guild will no doubt wish to claim rights to any mining operations. But in exchange, Rolstein and the kingdom will receive a share of the proceeds.
If there's a sizeable deposit to be had, then this could become a wonderful opportunity for the lowlands as a whole. Diversification of the local economy was a rare and precious opportunity.
“Indeed, but any merits are a matter for the future,” said the alchemist, her excitement visibly tempering. “My concern is still the present. And so before we turn these precious fields into a mine, I'd first like to know if it can be saved. The starflower ...”
“There's no starflower.”
My blunt assessment caught the alchemist by surprise.
She said nothing, and so I provided my reasoning with an additional spin of the chamber.
Seaweed, arcana crystals, and the granite walls to which they clung. There was no sign of a fabled starflower, nor an exit from this chamber. Our journey had been linear. Had we missed a path in the darkness? If so, we'd need to backtrack in order to find it. Otherwise, this was the end of this jaunt, though it was by no means unfruitful.
“M-Miss Juliette ...”
Then, the alchemist's timid voice called out to me.
I knew what it was before I finished turning around. The bright glow being emitted by my sword was no longer the only source of light within this small chamber.
To my astonishment, a single flower was gleaming from a crevasse opposite the water basin. Even from a distance, its details shone in the darkness like the moon on a clear night, each petal radiating with the intensity of a flickering flame.
It was a single flower, and yet if it were to be placed in the sky, I had little doubt it would be the light that drew stargazers and sailors towards it. The beauty was mesmerising. So much so, that I almost failed to question why it was now gleaming for all the eyes in this chamber to see.
Almost.
“The starflower,” whispered the alchemist. “It's … It's here … !”
“I-Indeed, it is … !”
I was astonished.
The starflower. It truly was here. But how?
Its nature meant that simply missing it with my sword was impossible. Its radiance matched Starlight Grace. Did it function similarly to the arcana crystals, and was now reacting to the light? Yet I was always under the impression that a starflower's strength was in its undying glow.
Why, it was almost as if something covering it had been displaced. But nothing but walls of rock were present around the starflower, with each damp surface covered in arcana crystals and soggy seaweed.
And nothing but walls of rock was still here … even as it moved towards me.
Brruuuuuummmmmmmmmmm.
A deafening rumble resounded throughout the chamber. The surface of the water basin shook violently, while bits of the cave fell around us like the beginnings of an earthquake.
That sound could've been the precursor to a landslide. But I realised as the sound went on that it was more than that. It was a bellow. The very land made manifest and sentient with rage.
A living roar from a creature with no vocal chords, yet had no difficulty resonating with the earth.
It was, after all, a monster born of it.
Brrrrrruuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm.
The shadow of a massive stone golem jerked alive, shaking off rocks and dust as it woke from its slumber.
And I knew immediately from its movements that it was feeling deeply inhospitable after just waking up.
Why, it reminded me of myself.
My boots waded through the shallow stream as I led the way, Starlight Grace in hand.
The caverns leading from the well were far more extensive than the alchemist had suggested. As I directed the tip of my sword into the darkness, its light caught against surfaces so high that I had to stretch my neck to see them … but not the tunnel bats that'd made their homes against the stalactites in this vast underground system.
Their eyes peppered the resounding darkness like red stars against a bleak sky. But while the sheer quantity of tunnel bats that'd made their home here may ordinarily have been cause for alarm, I had other concerns on my mind.
Namely, that the water was extremely unhealthy for the integrity of my boots.
They were hand crafted by royal commission for outdoor endeavours, yes, and could reliably step on mud, ash, saltwater and the hopes of the poor, but this wasn't a downtrodden farmer I was stepping on. It was … water.
Mossy, slimy water that dampened the colour of my boots.
And that was even worse than losing them.
The moment my outfit no longer matched, I'd have only two choices. Find a new set of clothes, or use Starlight Grace to conjure enough light that I could irrevocably damage the eyesights of everyone around me.
And right now, I was missing my wardrobe.
“Did you know that tunnel bats are blind?” said Coppelia, humming as she skipped behind me like a girl playing in a pond. “Those bloodthirsty, murderous eyes? Yep, they're just for show. They actually glow even brighter during the day. Of course, you never see them since they're usually sleeping.”
I glanced up at the litany of red dots, neither perturbed nor comforted by the thought that none of them were actually gazing back at me.
Rather, I simply could not take them seriously in the slightest.
“Bats.” I sighed. “Barely inside, and I can already see this cavern hasn't a speck of originality to it.”
“Eh?”
“It's like peering into the mind of a decrepit baron and seeing his wildest fantasy come to fruition.”
“Barons dream about bats?”
“The ones who have not received an invitation to attend a soirée in years, yes.”
I sadly shook my head.
For all their teeth, wings and claws, bats occupied a different category in my mind than heralds of the night.
To some, they were low-tier monsters fit for training new adventurers and soldiers. To me, they were a fashion statement. And a poor one, at that. Far too many nobles sought to decorate their middling towers and keeps with bats of all varieties, hoping the time-tested mystique would somehow mask the very public decline of their family lineage.
It never did.
The irony, of course, is that any noble house's fall from grace was due to this lack of familiarity with contemporary home design. Why, I had no doubt that if this cavern were put to auction, irrelevant nobles would paw at each other to make this their new villainous hideout from which to plan the usurping of my father's throne.
“Well, if you don't like bats, what about strangler crabs?”
Coppelia pointed ahead of us. A pair of deathly black pincers were briefly sighted, before they disappeared to a chorus of scuttling movement.
“Uninspired,” I replied.
“Decrepit barons stopped using them as pets ages ago, huh?”
“What? No, they still do. They simply taste awful as well.”
“... You've eaten strangler crabs before? The monster variety? Not the, 'Hey kids, Papa's going to teach you about fishing today,' kind?”
“Bland and flavourless. With a mucous-like texture. Highly do not recommend.”
I shuddered as I recalled the scene. There were many things I wanted for my 7th birthday. A horse-drawn carriage in the shape of an open seashell. A choir of my playmates singing my praises for being born wealthier than them. A fireworks display of me sitting cross-legged on a throne while laughing down at the assembled masses ...
Well, actually, I did get all of those things.
But I also got a buffet of the most strangest crustacean. What's more, it was still moving. And it's pincers were very sharp, indeed.
And that's the story of how I survived my 19th assassination attempt, aged 7.
The strangler crab tasted terrible afterwards.
“And water slimes … ?” queried Coppelia, pointing at a particularly reflective section of the wall. “Have you ever … ?”
Upon closer inspection, the shimmering of movement could clearly be seen, as could the mucus trailing behind. Only by purposefully directing my sword away could the form of the water slime be viewed, still partially aglow from the light as it half-crawled, half-bounced away from us.
I stopped, then set my frown directly at Coppelia's inquisitiveness. Predictably, she was already looking highly amused even before I gave my response.
“... Gastronomy was in a highly experimental phase at the time ...”
“It sounds like you've quite a robust palette.”
“Robust, no. Black, yes.”
Sadly, the world of gourmet dining wasn't built on stability. It was on constantly sprinting so that the quicksand wouldn't envelop you. And sometimes, those competing had no time to run. They simply had to leap.
Hence … Steak au slime was invented.
It did not last.
“You've … eaten all these things?” said the alchemist, staring at me in wonder. “Incredible! Although you appear very refined, in truth, you live off the land as much as even the most seasoned adventurer, don't you?”
I had a feeling that this woman was perhaps grossly misinterpreting how I came to be fed steak au slime.
Naturally, I nodded and accepted the praise.
“I … I suppose, by definition, yes, I certainly have lived off the creatures of this land!”
I gave a small cough and hurried ahead, valiantly ignoring both the creeping darkness and the sight of Coppelia hiding her laughter.
“I hope we find what we're looking for,” said the alchemist, somewhat absent-mindedly as she trudged along behind us. “Although right now, I'm mostly hoping that nothing worse than a water slime appears before us.”
Coppelia's sigh practically echoed around us.
“Now, if this was Ouzelia, what you just said would pretty much guarantee something dreadful will be waiting down here.”
“Huh?”
“Rules work differently in the Northern Realm. The power of stories is prevalent in every facet of life, but most often when we're courting jeopardy.”
“I … I see! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invite peril.”
“Oh, it's fine. Peril makes things more fun.”
“What?”
“What?”
The clockwork doll and the alchemist blinked at each other, each wearing vastly contrasting expressions.
Their conversation ended.
… For a short time, at least.
“Hmm, the water slimes aren't biting, are they?” said Coppelia cheerfully. “Shame, I imagine they're pretty hydrating. Great if you find yourself in a desert. They're like a bouncing oasis. Never tried one myself. I prefer green or sweet things. But I'm feeling adventurous!”
I shuddered to think that she'd willingly consume a water slime. And yet I couldn't bear to warn her against the taste. The memories were too painful to recall.
That aside, she did raise a fair point.
“Why have we not been attacked yet?” I asked, turning my light around the tunnels, only to witness the scuttling form of another strangler crab already moving away from us. “I was led to believe that monsters attacked indiscriminately.”
“Most monsters do,” replied Coppelia. “But weak monsters have a unique flight instinct. It's the only way to survive in a cruel world full of murderous adventurers. They're exceptionally good at identifying powerful threats.”
I raised a querying eyebrow at Coppelia.
“Do they detect your absurd level of physical strength and flee from it, then?”
In response, Coppelia grinned and turned to the young woman walking closely behind us, her wide eyes constantly darting in all directions.
“Hmm, who knows? Maybe our alchemist is secretly super strong?”
Marlena … Marina blinked in surprise, then rapidly shook her head.
“Um, I'm not sure why they're not attacking. But I do have a monster repelling potion in my satchel. Maybe they can sense it … ?”
“Well, whatever the cause, we should take full advantage,” I said. “My attire is at risk enough without water slimes further dampening it.”
I received fervent agreement from our alchemist as we trundled along, free from attacks by the inhabitants of this cavern.
Buoyed by the lack of opposition, we pressed on through the cavern until we entered a smaller chamber filled with a central basin of water. Here, no tunnel bats plagued the ceiling and no strangler crabs tried to give me flashbacks, but that didn't mean there was no life.
It was, in fact, teeming with it.
Long strands of wet greenery blanketed the walls almost like a net, the strands and leaves interwoven like a circus of green as it stretched out from the pool of shimmering water.
“My … how peculiar!”
Unless my studies of horticulture were very much mistaken, this was seaweed—or at least something similar. But these weren't the bedrocks near a shoreline or the wooden joints of a dock that the weeds found themselves clutched against. It was a chamber deep beneath the earth, devoid of even the shallowest hint of the sky or saltwater.
This basin of water was either connected to more than a regular reservoir, or these seaweeds were a unique new variety!
“What a magnificent amount of life,” said the alchemist, her wide eyes taking in the tapestry of green. “It appears to be … well, weeds. But to be found underground is remarkable!”
I nodded, sharing the appreciation. I spun around while pointing the tip of my sword towards each wall in turn.
“Either they don't require sunlight to grow, or they're able to survive long periods without access to it. But how would they come to be here, I wonder?”
Suddenly, the alchemist gasped.
“Wait—look! Look where you just shone the light! Keep your sword away for a moment and look!”
I did as asked and peered away from where I was directing Starlight Grace.
Only then did I notice the glittering in the darkness.
It was like hundreds of jewels lighting up where the light had receded, as though having absorbed the radiance from my sword. Stepping closer, I leaned in and spied to my surprise the clear crystalline spines.
“Arcana crystals,” I remarked. “Now, this truly is a boon.”
It was the crystalline mineral prized among mages, and in turn, shopkeepers. The light absorbent crystals which were a crucial reagent in the crafting of mana potions, a lifeline for mages at risk of suffering from magical burnout induced nausea.
Though by no means rare, it was practically unheard of for a mineral deposit to be discovered so far from the eastern mountain ranges where so much of our mining industry takes place. A discovery such as this needed to be properly documented, and the size and quality of the deposit surveyed.
A rush of excitement coursed through me as I tip-toed from glimmer to glimmer, assessing each shine with a rudimentary appraisal that could glean nothing other than the fact that this was a precious opportunity.
Nor was I the only one to spot this.
“Gosh, what a magnificent sight!” exclaimed the alchemist, her eyes almost shimmering as much as the precious crystals. “Arcana crystals. Here of all places. Beneath Rolstein. I never thought such a thing was possible!”
I nodded. I didn't think so, either. But that was mostly because I never gave Rolstein any thought whatsoever.
“A precious find, and worthy of a dismal climb down a dilapidated well.”
“I had no idea … in all the records I've seen of Rolstein's history, no mention has ever been made of arcana crystals.”
“Ohhohoho! Rejoice, for where there are precious reagents, there are profits, and where there are profits, there are taxes to be reaped!”
“... Huh?”
“T-Taxes … as in, taxes to ensure the building of new roads and watchposts, to ensure the security and economic prosperity of this new opportunity!”
Yes, indeed! The Miner's Guild will no doubt wish to claim rights to any mining operations. But in exchange, Rolstein and the kingdom will receive a share of the proceeds.
If there's a sizeable deposit to be had, then this could become a wonderful opportunity for the lowlands as a whole. Diversification of the local economy was a rare and precious opportunity.
“Indeed, but any merits are a matter for the future,” said the alchemist, her excitement visibly tempering. “My concern is still the present. And so before we turn these precious fields into a mine, I'd first like to know if it can be saved. The starflower ...”
“There's no starflower.”
My blunt assessment caught the alchemist by surprise.
She said nothing, and so I provided my reasoning with an additional spin of the chamber.
Seaweed, arcana crystals, and the granite walls to which they clung. There was no sign of a fabled starflower, nor an exit from this chamber. Our journey had been linear. Had we missed a path in the darkness? If so, we'd need to backtrack in order to find it. Otherwise, this was the end of this jaunt, though it was by no means unfruitful.
“M-Miss Juliette ...”
Then, the alchemist's timid voice called out to me.
I knew what it was before I finished turning around. The bright glow being emitted by my sword was no longer the only source of light within this small chamber.
To my astonishment, a single flower was gleaming from a crevasse opposite the water basin. Even from a distance, its details shone in the darkness like the moon on a clear night, each petal radiating with the intensity of a flickering flame.
It was a single flower, and yet if it were to be placed in the sky, I had little doubt it would be the light that drew stargazers and sailors towards it. The beauty was mesmerising. So much so, that I almost failed to question why it was now gleaming for all the eyes in this chamber to see.
Almost.
“The starflower,” whispered the alchemist. “It's … It's here … !”
“I-Indeed, it is … !”
I was astonished.
The starflower. It truly was here. But how?
Its nature meant that simply missing it with my sword was impossible. Its radiance matched Starlight Grace. Did it function similarly to the arcana crystals, and was now reacting to the light? Yet I was always under the impression that a starflower's strength was in its undying glow.
Why, it was almost as if something covering it had been displaced. But nothing but walls of rock were present around the starflower, with each damp surface covered in arcana crystals and soggy seaweed.
And nothing but walls of rock was still here … even as it moved towards me.
Brruuuuuummmmmmmmmmm.
A deafening rumble resounded throughout the chamber. The surface of the water basin shook violently, while bits of the cave fell around us like the beginnings of an earthquake.
That sound could've been the precursor to a landslide. But I realised as the sound went on that it was more than that. It was a bellow. The very land made manifest and sentient with rage.
A living roar from a creature with no vocal chords, yet had no difficulty resonating with the earth.
It was, after all, a monster born of it.
Brrrrrruuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm.
The shadow of a massive stone golem jerked alive, shaking off rocks and dust as it woke from its slumber.
And I knew immediately from its movements that it was feeling deeply inhospitable after just waking up.
Why, it reminded me of myself.
