Chapter 66 ~Pit~ l
"Well, I thought I was the rigid one," Bella mused, her voice returning to its soft, teasing tone.
Acacia crossed her arms, raising a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Bella merely chuckled and shrugged, leaving Acacia to ponder.
The small boat sliced through the water, a silver ribbon unspooling beneath the bright, sunlit sky. The river, a perfect mirror, reflected the gentle sway of the houses built along its banks.
Acacia leaned against the wooden railing, the cool breeze, a soft caress against her face. Her gaze drifted over the people on the shore, their lives unfolding in quiet vignettes. A woman tended a small, fragrant garden suspended over the water; a child chased a wooden toy boat, its tiny sail catching a breath of wind; a group of elders gathered on a communal porch, their voices a low, comforting murmur. Each figure was a fleeting brushstroke in the vast canvas of the early afternoon.
Bella sat opposite her, knees drawn up, watching the same silent ballet of daily life. The river carried their boat with an almost dreamlike slowness, allowing them to absorb the hushed rhythm of the city's edge. It was a world woven from water and wood, where laughter carried easily across the calm surface, and the scent of cooking fires mingled with the damp earth.
"It's like watching a painting come to life," Bella whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. "So much… quiet beauty."
Acacia nodded, her eyes tracing the path of a lone bird soaring over the rooftops. The boat drifted closer to a bustling dock, where the murmur of voices grew, punctuated by the rhythmic creak of ropes and the splash of oars. The river, which had held them in its gentle embrace, now nudged them towards the vibrant energy of the land.
With a soft bump, the boat docked. The servant helped them out, and they stepped onto the solid ground of the cobblestone street. The air immediately changed, thick with the scent of spices and a distant, lively hum. The market beckoned, now fully alive with its promise of stories and secrets.
"Shall we explore before I disappear for a few months?" Acacia asked.
"Yeah," Bella nodded, adjusting her prosthetic leg before standing fully upright.
"Let's go here; lots of noise, probably a market," Acacia decided, leading the way down a winding path. They walked, noticing some stares, but Acacia ignored them.
"We might even find some souvenirs for the others," Bella added.
They soon emerged into a busy marketplace. Vendors called out, hawking their goods, while buyers weaved through the throng. The sun, warm but not harsh, casts golden light across the cobblestone streets. Colourful awnings stretched over stalls offering everything from exotic spices and shimmering silks to strange, sweet fruits and enchanted trinkets. The air was thick with the scent of cinnamon, woodsmoke, and the unmistakable, syrupy sweetness of sun-dried nectar pears.
"I will say this again," Acacia commented, looking around. "This place is deceptive. It feels like the world isn't in chaos at all."
"Yeah, so... normal and busy," Bella agreed. Still, news seemed to travel fast, and Acacia could feel it in the subtle shifts of movement around them, the quick glances that lingered a moment too long. Yet, the market was alive, and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt like peace.
"Ooh...look at that one!" Bella exclaimed, her finger tracing a vibrant woven mat that depicted gods and monsters in stylised loops and swirls of deep purples and coppery golds, dancing through a chaotic landscape.
Acacia raised an eyebrow. "Very dramatic."
"Exactly!" Bella grinned. "Stylish, too."
"We have different ideas of stylish," Acacia shrugged as Bella reluctantly let go of the mat. They continued their journey, meandering past baskets piled high with shimmering herbs that glowed faintly with embedded magic, and racks displaying Lalan-style robes embroidered with constellations. Children darted through the crowd, playing tag with a bouncing orb of light that giggled as it ricocheted off walls and heads.
An older woman, seated behind a stall laden with glass figurines shaped like birds and mythical beasts, waved them over. "New faces! Would you like a blessing charm? On a discount for outsiders today."
Bella stopped, her eyes drawn to a delicate charm: a crescent moon with tiny feathers dangling from its curve. "This one's pretty."
Acacia held back, observing the woman carefully. "What kind of blessing?"
"Protection from wandering eyes," the woman said with a wink. "And bad dreams. Some say the god of moonlight weaves through them both."
'Yeah, right,' Acacia thought, squinting at the woman. Out loud, she offered a small smile. "They look lovely, but we have no money."
"Maybe next time," Bella said with an apologetic smile as they walked away. "We really should've gotten some money from Edwin."
"You're right," Acacia agreed, holding her hands behind her back.
As they moved on, the crowd subtly parted around them, the whispers now more distinct. A group of vendors spoke in hushed Lalannese, their eyes flicking towards Acacia.
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"I'm starting to think we're the entertainment today," Acacia muttered under her breath.
Bella leaned in, her voice low. "You are. The outsider with god-fire in her veins. You're basically a walking prophecy."
"You don't get to pull out, Mrs. Lover," Acacia replied in a low tone, grinning as Bella's face turned grim. "You're just as famous as I am here."
Acacia stopped walking suddenly when she felt a small tug on her wings. She slowly turned her head to see a boy with short black hair and wide, incredibly curious eyes. He held a small cage containing a tiny feathered creature, an impossible blend of bird and cat. Her gaze drifted down to his feet, which were resting on her wing's hem, and her left index finger twitched.
"Do you mind?" Acacia asked.
The boy snapped out of his trance and quickly stepped away, profusely apologising. Acacia furrowed her brows at the rumpled state of her wing's hem. Pulling her wings free, she dusted the sand off them, then arranged them over her shoulders like a cape to keep them from dragging on the ground.
"It's fine," Acacia murmured, once her wings looked acceptable.
"Who's your little friend over there?" Bella asked the boy with a reassuring smile.
The boy looked up, startled but not afraid. "It's called a mirji. They sing when danger's close, and his name is Kir." He nodded.
Acacia felt Behemoth stir around her neck and she flicked his skin with her finger, making the reptile stop instantly. The mirji blinked its large amber eyes at Acacia and let out a low trill, almost like a purr.
"I think she likes you," the boy said, raising his cage.
Behemoth hissed instantly at the cage, making the boy and the mirji flinch.
"Behave," Acacia said in an unamused tone.
'He was so calm. What is wrong with him?' She rubbed her temple.
"What's that?" The boy asked, pointing at Behemoth.
"A petulant animal," Acacia responded, grabbing Behemoth and yanking him from her neck, feeling his nails scratch her skin in the process. She held him up to her face and glared. Behemoth's hissing slowly stopped, reluctantly.
"You should go. It was nice to meet you," Bella said, patting the boy's head. He bowed in appreciation before scrambling away with his cage. "What's wrong with him?" Bella asked Acacia.
"I wish I knew. He bites when he's happy, sad, or angry," Acacia replied, placing Behemoth on her other hand, watching him curl around it. "You're lucky I can't put you on a leash yet, just wait until you get bigger."
They moved on, deeper into the bustling market, past an alley that smelled faintly of sulfur and paint. Graffiti decorated the weathered wall, a single eye etched above a crudely drawn mountain. Acacia paused, a frown creasing her brow.
Siran, who had been quietly following behind them, finally spoke. "A symbol of how our mountains always watch over us."
Acacia and Bella gasped in surprise, backing away from him. Acacia placed her hand on her beating heart, her eyes wide as she stared at him up and down.
"Since when?!" Bella demanded, leaning against the wall.
"The wall has been painted—" Siran began calmly.
"Not that! When did you follow us?" Acacia interrupted, her gaze narrowed.
"When you left, the king asked me to assist, so I came to find both of you. Luckily, I did," Siran explained, unperturbed.
"Why are you all so weird?" Acacia muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her eyebrow.
"Please, refrain from... quiet assistance," Bella said, and Siran nodded.
"Anyway, why is it drawn so ominously though?" Acacia asked after she calmed down, gesturing to the graffiti. "If it's a symbol of protection... shouldn't it be more... soothing?"
"We have many histories with the mountains," Siran replied, his voice even. "Great moments, and horrible moments. They watch all of it, benevolent and unforgiving in equal measure."
"Right. Very comforting," Acacia muttered, though she continued to study the symbol. There was a raw power to it, even in simple lines.
"So, what's next on the grand tour of Lalan's delights?" Bella asked, nudging Acacia playfully.
Acacia finally tore her gaze from the wall. "... I want to see this Pit with my own eyes. Get a sense of what I'm walking into."
He paused for a moment before he spoke. "And I can guide you to a vantage point overlooking the Pit. It is... a sight."
Acacia raised an eyebrow, a spark of interest replacing her earlier annoyance with his stealth. "Lead the way then, Siran. Just try not to materialise out of thin air every time you have something to say."
Siran merely inclined his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and began to lead them deeper into the bustling market, away from the ominous graffiti and towards the promise of new discoveries.
Siran led them away from the bustling market, the vibrant noise slowly fading behind them as they ascended through narrower, quieter streets. The air grew cooler, thinner, hinting at elevation. Soon, the last houses gave way to rugged, wind-swept terrain, the ground becoming more uneven, patched with hardy, low-lying shrubs.
"It's just over this rise," Siran announced, his voice carrying clearly on the wind that began to whip around them.
As they crested the jagged, rocky ridge, the world seemed to fall away. Before them lay a colossal, gaping chasm, an almost perfect circular void carved into the earth. It wasn't merely a hole; it was a wound, a geological scar that plunged into unimaginable depths, its edges ragged and dark. Even from this distance, an unsettling hum seemed to rise from within it, a low, resonant thrum that vibrated in Acacia's very bones.
The air above the Pit shimmered with an unseen energy, distorting the light, making the distant bottom appear to writhe. No natural light reached its true depths, there were no visible structures, no discernible pathways leading down, just the sheer, terrifying drop.
"That's… quite a hole," Bella murmured, a tremor in her voice, her prosthetic leg seeming to brace itself against the dizzying sight. Even she, accustomed to oddities, was taken aback by its sheer scale and malevolence.
Acacia stood at the very edge of the ridge, her gaze fixed on the abyss. The wind tugged at her clothes, threatening to pull her closer, but she stood firm. The ominous hum grew louder, a discordant symphony that spoke of ancient power and things best left undisturbed. It was not the wholesome power of growth, nor the clean force of destruction. This felt… different. Corrupted.
"So, this is where Ramiel stayed, huh?" Acacia said, her voice barely a whisper against the wind's howl. There was no fear in it, only a profound, almost primal curiosity. Her wings, typically a comforting weight on her shoulders, felt oddly restless, subtly twitching as if sensing the currents of power swirling within the Pit.
"They say it shows you what you truly are," Siran explained, his voice low. "It strips away everything you think you know, everything you hide. No one has ever returned except Ramiel."
"Why would anyone be willing to enter that?" Bella shivered, her gaze still fixed on the gaping maw of the Pit.
"People are foolish," Acacia replied, her voice flat. "One person survives, and suddenly everyone thinks they're the exception."
'Especially since the one who survived was no ordinary person,' she thought, staring down into the abyss that seemed to pull at her, drawing her in the more she gazed.
"Thank goodness you have wings," Bella said, shaking her head. "How else would you get out?"
"We have preparations for that," Siran answered smoothly, "but they won't be needed in your case."
"Let's head back," Acacia finally said, tearing her eyes from the mesmerising depths. "At least I can mentally prepare." Siran nodded and began leading them away from the Pit, guiding them through a discreet, less-travelled path until they re-emerged into the familiar, bustling market.