Cursed Odyssey

Day 8:

"Arthur… You sure you know where you're going?" Gwynn's voice buzzed like a fly.

"This is the tenth time you ask the same question! Just trust and follow behind me…" Arthur groaned.

"I think we're close…" Skylar, bringing up the rear, kept her tone hushed. Her eyes darted around the mine, taking in every crevice, every shadow.

The mines seemed extra dark that day, but that only made the crystals' blue light shine brighter.

'The place of shattered crystals on the day of eight flickers…'

To reach that spot, the path they took ensured the fewest eyes were on them.

"You sure this is the right way?" Gwynn asked once more.

"For the last time… Stay quiet and follow! What's with you? You seem a little too excited…"

"Oh ho ho! Just you wait…" Gwynn replied, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this…"

It was then, they saw it…

It was said once upon a time, there was a large crystal protruding from the ceiling, where one day it fell and created a hole within the wall. Out of all the places, that place seemed ideal—

There was no doubt whoever made this riddle was unnaturally cunning.

Not only was it a riddle only few knew, it ensured those who did come were those truly experienced within these mines.

A hidden alcove, tucked away behind a particularly large boulder. The entrance was a small hole in the wall, nearly invisible to the untrained eye.

Slowly, they all approached… People were already waiting inside—

One by one, they stepped inside. Eyes flickered, assessing the newcomers. Young and old teens, each figure was a survivor. Though some looked melancholic, most had a gaze akin to a honed blade. Their silence was not peace, but a predator's lull before the kill. It was as though they had stepped into a den of beasts.

Arthur sat down, unphased by the glares, while Skylar's presence seemed to shrink like a rabbit among bears— But Gwynn, the bearer of most the ire, somehow kept his normal presence through those looks that burned like fire.

Among those sitting, they noticed a familiar, covered face— Samsara sat cross-legged, her presence, as usual, a silent enigma. She acknowledged the trio's arrival with a slight nod, her gaze lingering on each of them for a moment before returning to some unseen point in the distance.

A heavy silence descended upon the group. The air was thick with unspoken questions and reservations, the prisoners eyeing each other warily.

They all awaited the voice, perhaps even a miracle…

Arthur took a moment to settle his gaze—

At first, these people appeared hardened, but upon closer inspection, he could see it clear as day. The fear… The apprehension… The gnawing feeling of unknown possibilities, and not knowing what came next. Arthur knew it all too well, like a hand caressing at one's heart, pulling and tugging at random intervals. Its grasp was ever-reaching, all-encompassing, yet Arthur seemed unfazed.

However, that calm would not last for long—

Out of the crowd, he saw a lone figure standing.

The air in the room completely changed— Confusion and bated breaths.

The figure stood on a nearby rock, his head glancing from above like a king looking down at servants as he spoke in a powerful hush…

"Friends, comrades, fellow prisoners! I come bearing good news, so listen closely! I am the emissary sent by the voice… His name is ****, and I was appointed as your new leader… So from now on, you are to obey my every word!"

They all sat, gawking in silence…

It was long, an eternity before it was broken—

The emotions those words provoked were visceral, to say the least…

"Is this a joke?" A confused boy muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Those words were the key that opened the ensuing floodgates…

"Get down from there, you delusional runt!"

"Emissary? For who? The circus?"

"Don't test me little shit! You're disrespecting the demi-god! I otta kill you for this blasphemy!"

"If we're abandoned because of your stupidity— I'll-"

A wave of scorn washed over him – mocking laughter, disbelieving whispers, and insults hurled like stones.

"Gwynn… Stop embarrassing yourself and come down here before I strangle you…" Even Arthur couldn't hide his cringe, concealing his face.

"Please, Gwynn, come down…" Skylar pleaded common sense with him.

Yet in the face of such mockery, he seemed uncaring; after all, it was naturally to be expected.

Without any further words, Gwynn simply raised his hands to the ceiling and—

"...I am ****... Gwynn Felt is my chosen emissary… Listen and obey… "

"...My power is yet limited, so he shall convey my word…"

"...To deny him… is to deny me…"

The voice, impossibly clear, echoed through the hidden chamber. It was the same chilling whisper that had sent shivers down their spines in the mines. Terror twisted the faces of those assembled. Arthur's jaw went slack, his eyes fixed on Gwynn with a mixture of dread and a horrifying realization.

In an instant, the atmosphere took a 180— all went quiet, no one dared speak a word, even one of apology… No matter how many times they've heard it, that voice held an unusual allure and mysticism… Something that was real, yet should have never existed…

Gwynn seemed amused. There was no doubt he stirred this chaos on purpose, yet even he seemed shaken from the presence of the voice, despite his elevated status. Nevertheless, this stunt he pulled seemed to give him even more authority, and he decided to capitalize on it:

"This is no time to waste! Our meetings must be swift, we don't wanna draw unwanted attention. Our goal is clear – to map out every inch of this prison! Patrol routes, guard shifts, any weakness we can exploit! Only then can **** grant us the way to escape!"

As Gwynn ended his initial speech, Skylar caught something at the corner of her vision…

She could not help but think—

'Was that really you?'

____________

"HEY!! WHERE WERE YOU!! These rocks certainly won't mine themselves!!" Rayah roared at the melancholic approaching boy.

"I have no excuse…" Joseph lowered his head and knelt as though expecting punishment…

…

…

But nothing came—

Instead, Rayah let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with a weariness that seemed to go beyond mere physical exhaustion. "Just... get to work," she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "Mine the crystals and be quick about it. I don't have the energy to deal with your incompetence today."

"Understood…"

_____________

That night passed like any other.

In a single day, Gwynn had accomplished more than he expected. Not only did he set up an entire chain of information, he also made secret codes and messages, along with ways to ensure no information leaks and traitors along with identifying them.

He'd have liked to say it was all his ideas, but it was in fact mostly Arthur's plans and suggestions that made it all work.

Wide awake in the Darkness, Gwynn turned to his side, where Arthur slept not too far away and whispered.

"Hey… Arthur… You awake?"

"No…" He responded. There was silence, then he finally answered. "Okay, what is it now, oh powerful emissary?"

"You gonna come to our next meeting?"

"And why would I do that?" He responded.

"Huh? Well, you were a big help… And—"

"You're getting it all wrong… I came today out of sheer boredom and curiosity… I don't care about escaping in the slightest… That's just impossible…"

Gwynn's eyes went aghast, even after all he's heard and seen, he still thought that? Had it been anyone other than Arthur, Gwynn's emotions would have been far different.

"Up to you, I guess…" Gwynn shrugged.

"Now, if you don't mind… I'm gonna go to sleep… So stop bothering me…"

"Your loss… Just don't blame me if lord **** condemns you…" Gwynn rolled his eyes.

"Go to sleep…" Arthur responded…

Their chatter stopped. Gwynn rolled back to the other side of the floor. He tried to sleep, yet he couldn't… He awaited a response from the voice…

How did he do? Was he a fit leader? What was the next directive?

Doubt and apprehension buzzed in his brain, like a white static noise he could not escape from no matter what he did.

He lay wide awake on the floor in a cold sweat, his heart beating like a drum, his stomach lurched so deep it felt non-existent…

Time seemed to crawl still, before, in the most inconspicuous of times… He heard it…

"...Gwynn Felt… You have my praise…"

"...You are my emissary, truly. Yet I am unable to gain information out of you…"

"...The only way is through the weakest soul within the prison… One that could be easily read…"

"...From this day forth, you shall relay all information to Zephyr…"

H… HUH!? Gwynn's mind spurred… Zephyr!? Why him of all people!? he questioned almost in protest, yet he dared not do so out loud…

I— I must do as… commanded…

"In addition… be wary of a particular guard… Urslan, Arcanist of Flames… Information pertaining to him shall be top priority…"