Queen Of The Ventils

XLVIII

This is the song I used in the big fight. It comes in a little later, but feel free to listen to it while you read!
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I took a deep breath as I stood outside the cave. I didn't have anybody to back me up now. Zephyr and Aquarius with their mates had left to try and talk to the other Ventil tribes, and Ela and Cephas had left early on to better scout out Ramos' potential plans. My friends and sister may have been waiting down in the dark for support, but I knew; it was all up to me to make the Earth Ventils see reason. This is fine, I told myself. I'm fine, I can do this. I'm not alone. I'm okay, I can do this. I'm not alone.

Maybe if I repeated that mantra enough my brain would start to believe it.

I stepped inside, instantly feeling the influx of magical energy. My hair returned to its natural shiny black color with a magenta sheen, and my eyes flashed a brilliant pink. Instantly, my soul felt rejuvenated as the constant flow of magic filled my veins once more, arcane power pulsing in every pump of blood throughout my body. However, I felt like a stranger in my own body as a dark lock of hair fell across my vision; as if here I was the imposter, and the outside was my true home. I didn't have the time to sit and ponder my fear, however. I had a duty to fulfill, a new pack to protect, and I was going to see my sacrifice through to the end.

As I descended down the all-to-familiar tunnel, the familiar scent of wet stones and petrichor permeated my nose. I pushed past the curtains of moss and ivy growing in the tunnel sloping down, down, down into the underground, cutting through the earth in unnaturally perfect circles human hands could never replicate. I stepped around the occasional stray animal bone and arrowhead, being careful to not catch my protruding bits on the debris and alert anyone to my presence.

My friends soon came into view a few moments later, Cephas and Ela hovering by a curtain of moss and moonflower that would open up into the main area of my den. "It is time," Pythia hissed, golden eyes glowing like ichor in the darkness. Ariadne nodded her agreement, and Cephas peeled back the layered curtain to reveal the familiar cavern larger than anything I ever had or would see.

My den was spectacular; there was no getting around it, it just simply was. An enormous abyss lay behind the natural barrier of flora, so cavernous and dark a creature unaccustomed to living in perpetual darkness would be rendered blind, were it not for the gentle glow of gigantic flowers and clinging vines dotted around the bottom and creeping up the smooth and gently-sloping walls, along with the vision lights—now known to me as pixies, as my friends had called them—buzzing near the top.

It was a 300-foot drop to the bottom of the cavern, with a gently sloping path curling around the edges to provide safer access to those without wings and to the hundreds of personal dens through dark holes embedded in the walls. Peering out into the darkness and letting my senses adjust to it once more, I could see where the path would end and open up into an even larger cavern where the Arenam lay. I could hear the echoing voices of thousands of Ventils below me, the volume amplified by the acoustics of the cavern and the quiet the space entailed; someone must be challenging Ramos for the title of Alpha, then.

I shivered with horror at the idea of my brother and Alpha in the same line of thinking, but had no time to dwell on it. Meloetta was waving to us from further down the pathway, ducking halfway into a den as we came down the walkway. 

"Are you ready for this?" Ela asked the moment we were out of sight, amber eyes glowing with concern in the dark. "I have to be," I said, head ducked down towards the ground. "I don't have a choice. I need to face him; it's the one chance we've got."
"Then we must go."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and I looked around the many faces there, desperate to memorize every detail of my friends. The many shades of oranges and reds in Meloetta's hair, the color of fallen leaves in the height of autumn. The way Pythia's hood fell across her head in such a manner she had no need for hair. Ariadne's gentle smile, the small peek of fang over her bottom lip. Cephas' crazed mane of orange hair, unable to be flattened, mottled skin forming patches of tan and creamy white. Ela's golden eyes framed by endless green braids, holding the experiences and passions of a Ventil much, much older than she appeared to be.