Hall of Games [ REWRITE ] | The Varya Chronicles #1

Chapter Thirteen

Media: Derek

Music of the chapter: Toil and Trouble, Audiomachine

The wind rustled past her ears as she let herself fall. There was a small 'squelch' when she landed on her feet. Cadence dug the point of her boot into the moist ground. She had anticipated a watery-landing, and the wet ground caught her by surprise.

"Okay down there?" Arik said from above. Looking up, Arik's face was a black blur, given the depth of the well.

She gave him a thumbs up, then realized it was complete darkness down there, he wouldn't be able to see anything.

"Yeah," she called back.

Someone pulled her to the side. Cadence yelped, almost punching Misha in the face.

"Don't stand there," she said. "Others will squash you."

Right after Misha had finished her sentence, Arik plopped right down on the spot where Cadence bad been standing a few seconds ago.

"Someone strike a damn light," Arik said. "I can't see anything."

"On it," Feathers said. Sparks flew as the flint struck against rock, and the first breath of light latched onto the white, oiled cloth wrapped around a stick.

Cadence blinked the initial blindness of the sudden light out of her eyes before focusing on her surroundings. The well was narrow from the top, but it gave way into a wide chasm at the bottom. Frogs croaked at them, while leeches poked their heads out of the cracks in the wall, seeming to give the intruders a good look from top to bottom. Algae had claimed the right part of the well where the water was concentrated at the most, then gradually died away as it reached a stretch of tunnel on the other side of the well.

Feathers and Mara were the last to land. Mara brushed back several loose ginger curls stuck to her forehead.

"Well, through the tunnel, I suppose?"

Arik nodded. His face appeared more hallowed under the ghostly flicker of the torch. "The tunnel will cover a good stretch of land within the Hall, and when it finally ends, it would be in a ditch outside the Hall gates. This is where the good thing comes to."

He handed the torch to a Feathers, sank down on one knee and swung his backpack over.

"These would keep our identities safe, and no one would question our presence in the city."

Arik pulled out a bundle of masks, just like the ones Patrols wore. "I have exactly five here, take your pick."

"Whoa," Misha said. "I didn't even think of that. Where do you even get this?"

"I made them," he said. "Craft and smithing class, remember?"

"Yeah," Misha said. "Worst experience of my life."