Kin of Jörmungandr

Ceph and her team stood at the ledge of the unreasonably deep pit. Behind them, down the hill, the Mercenary Order's local headquarters stood before the city beyond; a staunch defender of the people from the beasts from below.

Well, from most beasts.

Kalma's Pit was daunting to look into even for a mercenary as experienced as Ceph. There was just something about not knowing what might lie in the dark that latched onto one's instinctual terror. But she had already resolved herself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The hesitation in Hirsh's voice was obvious. "I find it unlikely that serpent will ever listen to us… assuming we somehow even come across it."

Ceph didn't bother turning her eyes from the darkness below when she answered. "Absolutely. The Henosis army won't linger on our borders forever. That snake was intelligent; if we can just get it to work with us, then not only can we survive this war, but achieve victory."

Ceph didn't need to turn to feel the doubtful gaze he was giving her. Instead, she continued. "Too many amongst the pact nations have given up all hope of victory. They would have themselves integrated into the Empire as long as it meant their survival. I despise that. Even if the chances are slim, I am going to do what I can to assure our victory."

Hirsh was doubtful, but at least Albin remained impassive. The albanic stared down into the darkness, not with Ceph's determination, but a lazy nonchalance. The attitude irritated Ceph. Usually, she would appreciate the white-haired man's quiet nature, but right now, it felt too much like he was treating this whole situation far too easily. He was arrogant. Albin was no Telum or Glaus, so he had no reason to be.

And that's what annoyed Ceph; she was continually comparing her new teammates to those she lost. Those that died while she survived. It was an unhealthy habit, she knew, but each small action they took seemed to trigger her irritation.

The volan duo were far worse in that aspect. Even now, their nervous chittering grated at her ears.

"It's not too late to back out, right? I never would have joined the Order if I knew it meant going underground," Tavi said.

"Who ever thought this was a good idea? The underground is fine, but do you know how deep Kalma's Pit is?! I don't want to be stuck hundreds of kilometres beneath the surface." Fay's voice joined the other volan, equally as fearful of the dark depths they were to plunge.

Ceph rotated the eyes within her torso, hiding the snarl of anger at their cowardice. "If you are unhappy, go speak with Remus. He's the one who sent the order."

Ceph felt a tinge of guilt that she quickly quashed. If she backed down from this mission, then they would have no reason to go, but Ceph couldn't give up on this, so these two would have to follow them into a volan's least favourite location; the subsurface.

Of course, if they truly wanted to, the two could refuse to follow. They'd likely be penalised, then shipped off to the front lines, but it was an option they had. Ceph wished they would. If that was the option they took, then she would have two less people to worry about while searching for that powerful serpent that could kill any of them in an instant if she insulted it.

Wasting no more time to ponder and lose herself in thought, she sprung forward and fell into Kalma's Pit.

It was hardly the first time Ceph had fallen a great distance — most mercenaries had to be able to handle it if they were to climb the Titan Alps… well, before they collapsed — but she knew this would not be any normal fall. Ceph was expecting to fall for hours.

Instead of delving into the natural discomfort of losing earth beneath her tentacles, she relished in the rushing wind and spun to watch the rapidly shrinking background of a red ash-filled sky.

Ceph was unsurprised to see Albin gaining on her. He wouldn't have waited more than a few seconds to dive after she had. The other three… well, if they didn't back down now, then they only had a few minutes. She wasn't about to wait around once she reached the bottom, and the longer it took to jump, the more impossible it would be to catch up.

Light faded, and soon the distant walls of the perfectly vertical tunnel were difficult to see even with a strained eye. From a pouch beneath her tentacle, she brought out a small tube of glass. Tapping at the inscription of one end, the torch filled with fire hyle. The flame in a jar illuminated her surroundings; a whole lot of nothing. Its light wasn't enough to see the walls, but it let Ceph see her limbs again… and any creatures that might try to attack while she fell.

Unlike the large caverns beneath the Titan Alps, there was no need to remain in the dark here. At least, the column itself was safe. Whether using light was safe at the bottom of the pit, they'd need to discover for themselves; few had explored the depths. Efforts to map the lower tunnels were met with failure, and the lengthy journey to return to the surface meant the Order were unwilling to allow mercenaries to descend while a war was so close to erupting.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Ceph let the tube of light to float out before her, adjusting her speed to match. As enjoyable as the feeling of wind rushing past her was, she needed to remain alert. She hadn't become a Beith by being unwary. Well, she became a Beith because of politics, but that was besides the point. This was an uncharted area, and the deeper she fell, the more likely she would face some beast ready to strike at her.

As an hour passed, nothing had struck, but her eyes continued to dart through the dark for anything the light might reveal. You could see many a creature through the reflection of the light in their eyes, but that was not a rule. Just as many creatures didn't have eyes.

When it came to the beasts of the unknown, rules didn't apply.

Their objective was a perfect example of this. A serpent that could bend space as if it were paper. It had taken a while to figure out — and by mages far more intelligent than Ceph — but the creature shaped the world in confusing ways only seen along the Titan Alps… and the depths Ceph was heading.

It was hard to notice when those spatial distortions first began to appear. In the dark, they were more invisible than usual. Only by the odd glimmer of light from random directions — like momentary replications of the torch floating before her — did she know they'd begun to appear.

It was not long after, that a light appeared above. Steady and unwavering. Ceph and Albin would soon be joined by another of their team.

She watched carefully as the light grew brighter, certain that there was nothing to fear by its approach, but wary nontheless. Only when the distant echo of Hirsh's shouts broke the sound of rushing wind did she return her gaze downward.

She'd enjoyed the silence of her descent until now, but that was clearly about to change. Albin, despite her reservations, was at least not one for idle chatter. Ceph appreciated that, at least.

"-I get it, you love me. But can you two keep away from the spine; I'm tender." His words reach Ceph right before the khirig catches up… and shoots past her.

In the light of their torches, Ceph spots the two volans clambering within the mage's antler cage as if he were a kid's playground. Ceph simply watched as Hirsh finally pulled himself back in line with Albin and herself, while his two passengers realised they now had an audience.

Tavi was quick to spin around Hirsh's slender inner torso and place himself on the antlers over the man's head, acting like he hadn't been hiding inside the mage's cage. Fay was unbothered. She remained inside the protective bone growths as if it were the only place she should be.

For the longest moment, Ceph considered commenting. It seemed like they were taking this whole situation far more lax than she felt appropriate. But, she ended up simply breathing out something half way between a sigh and a groan. She didn't think it was worth the headache of telling them off.

"So, face anything on the way down?" Hirsh asked.

"No," Ceph said simply. "You?"

Hirsh shook his head. The action forced Tavi to move lest he be pinched between two antlers.

Hirsh had lit a torch of his own, but as a mage, that was not the only light on which he relied. A soft, translucent blue glow rose from the inscriptions winding his antlers. Looking close, Ceph could see the tiniest of shimmer that revealed the water he kept flowing over each line, ready to snap out at a moment's notice.

He may not have seemed attentive, but she really shouldn't have doubted him.

Ceph's torch suddenly disappeared. A shatter had everyone twist to the side, where a burst of flame momentarily spread out along the far wall before dispersing.

Ceph stared, uncomprehendingly, until she finally understood her mistake. "I'll… hold onto it from now on." From her pack, she took out a spare. She had two more after this, but losing one so early wasn't desirable.

Her torch had flown through a portal, and it's altered direction had sent it crashing into the far wall. From what she knew of these distorted regions — little that it was — it was like one point in space was linked to another. If something was thin enough to pass through one of these portals, they would reach the other side of the connection. But if something was wider than it, they would simply pass through without noticing it.

Of course, that rule seemed to disappear after a certain amount passed through. An arm could pass through easily enough, but then be unable to move further once it reached the torso. She'd seen that snake take advantage of exactly that.

The discrepancy between when a creature could ignore a portal, and when it struck it dead in place was not something Ceph could understand. It was not something anyone understood, as far as she knew. But just because they could make no sense of it didn't make it any less real.

As they continued to descend, the distortions only grew more dense. Their torches had gone from a source of light only strong enough to see each other, to a constantly shifting kaleidoscope spreading every way they looked.

They'd long since had to slow their descent. Hirsh's parachute of water was the only reason Ceph hadn't been torn apart the few unfortunate times she'd got caught on a distortion.

It grew difficult to trust their eyes. Often, they thought they saw something approaching, only for it to be a section of wall floating where it shouldn't be. Countlessly, Ceph saw both herself and the others in the distance, despite huddling near each other in order to avoid being separated… which they'd discovered was a very likely possibility down here.

Soon, their descent grew to that of a crawl — Hirsh carrying them down in a sphere of water that clung to the wall of the pit — so slow that Ceph didn't know when to expect to reach the bottom.

When the new Tsar of New Vetus had fallen down here with that áed, he'd apparently done so in only a few minutes. Sure there probably wasn't much air to slow his descent at the time, but there was no way he could have hit the ground that quickly with space this convoluted. No matter how strong the man was.

It had to be the distortions; they were thicker than they were back when Kalma dug this pit.

When they finally landed, they didn't see it coming. No, the column seemed to continue endlessly beneath them… until they fell through a wide portal and found themselves sliding along a solid surface.

Once everyone collected themselves from the experience, and Ceph looked up to find eight different Hirsh's around her, she decided then and there that there would be no carelessness down here.

"We will not be moving more than a metre from each other."