Devouring Hollow Hearts || ONC'24

》Chapter Thirteen《

Loose gravel cracked underfoot, accentuated by the soft echoing drips of spring rain and stale air.

Dailes' golden eyes pierced through the cavern's shadowed light as he stayed one step ahead, monitoring their surroundings.

Despite her deep breathing, Chyrie continued to tear her gaze from the burnt remains of clothing and scattered bones. She thanked the gods for every empty tunnel as they passed, praying above every star they might not find a shallow grave with half-rotten bodies.

The smell left little to the imagination. Sulfer rent the damp breeze, accompanied by dried blood and wet dirt.

Her stomach turned.

Chyrie could only stare in horror as Dailes examined several pairs of remains in the darkness, sniffing at there cast arms to check for weapons.

"This way."

A small mercy that he only wished to speak in her mind.

She followed him left, into a dead end where the darkness swallowed them whole and her heart shuddered.

Laying across the rubble were glistening bones of white, still clothed in armor despite the worn garments, and reaching for a moss covered sword.

Tears prickled in her eyes as Dailes moved to nudge the sword closer to her.

Instead of grasping the weapon, Chyrie knelt down beside the mummified face of a solider. A man. Her heart crumpled with the dust lining his jacket and blew away like fresh ash.

Her fingers reached out to test the remains, to feel around for identification of sorts, but she only found the metallic plating of his pommel. The emblem was only given to the royal guard.

Whomever lay here, she'd known or seen.

Chyrie felt a tear break loose down her cheek as she shifted even closer, knocking the dried skeleton over.

The dirt pile broke behind them, shaking the walls of the tunnel.

Dailes bit into the silver weapon and dragged it into her lap. "Let's go."

Her limbs froze in place, refusing her.

Dailes shoved himself between her legs and lifted her from the cavern floor.

Chyrie swallowed past the heartbreak, now mixed with guilt as her drakeling carried her through the cavern like a faithful steed. They would need more tools if she was going to complete Anryth's challenge.

After entering a new cavern, she slid off Dailes' back and started brushing through the remains of her people.

She found several items–from picks, to tongs, and an older ax. A sack of leather for her to strip and reform into grips. Gauntlets for her wrists if she needed the extra protection.

Chyrie started carrying them to Dailes' back when a metallic crack snapped through the air.

His tail had come down upon a broken mine track, lined for carts to use and stripped the metal right from the ground. He then lowered himself to wedge under the bar and heat it, his fire curling over the steel framework.

Managing to snap the grating and cart track, Dailes rammed his body into the trail beneath him and ripped the beam from the floor.

She'd stared in awe at his genius, watching him rip raw material from the ground and find a way to carry it back to the forge.

Chyrie felt the ground beneath them shake as the track dislodged a wooden beam supporting the mines ceiling. Her legs locked up again as dirt started raining down from the splitting wood and groaning filled the air.