But the fifth tunnel—that one tastes like petrichor after a thunderstorm. That’s the primordial magic, woven into the fabric of this reality.
It’s delicious.
And my power wantsmore.
It wantseverything.
It pulls me through the fifth archway and down the tunnel. The air transitions from musty stone to plant life, sunlight, and clear water, carrying the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves. I shield my eyes from the rays of blinding sunlight shining through the open sinkhole when I finally exit the tunnel.
It’s fuckingbeautiful.
Trees with crawling roots and swaths of hanging plants drip over the edge, brushing the surface of the large crystal blue pool. Alcoves in the moss-covered rock teem with hanging flowers and bird nests. Large vines with green blooms creep from below the water, reaching for the sunlight.
It’s the closest I’ve ever come to paradise.
I never want to leave.
One day, I promise, I’ll come back here.
Today, I have to find my way out. Somehow.
My magic surges into the space, eager and curious, brushing over the stone walls like an extension of my fingertips. It delves below the water and soars to the open ceiling, tasting the rune carved into a large, flat stone in the center of the pool, just like it traces the invisible edges of the hidden staircase winding around the outer edge of the cavern. I follow the magic with my eyes and spot the hidden doorway behind a curtain of dense, green vegetation.
It’s effortless to imbue the rune with power, and I watch the staircase slowly extrude from the wall, step by step. With every scrape of stone, a thrill of triumph makes my pulse quicken. When the staircase is complete, I recall my power as I take my first tentative step, and grin.
I fucking did it.
I fucking?—
Missed the second rune activating until it’s too late.
My power tastes the foreign magic when it flares to life.
Is this part of the test?
I pause, trying to sort through the magical sensory input, and that’s when the enchanted vine strikes. I try to kick it off, but the sudden movement only makes it constrict even tighter around my leg as it climbs up my body. Thorns burst from the vine, sinking deep into my skin when I try to pry it off, and I cry out inpain and surprise. Blood wells from hundreds of tiny punctures, dripping down the thorns. I begin to panic—I can’t pull it off, movement makes it tighter, no talisman means no spell unless I want to risk exploding this entire place, the next best thing I can think of?—
When the vine reaches my waist, I hurl myself back against the wall, knocking loose a shard of rock. I scramble for it before it falls over the edge, grunting in pain when it slices into my palm. Turning the sharp edge outward, I try to saw through the tendril that’s trapped my arm to my waist as it creeps upward, but whimper when it only drives the thorns deeper. My wounds begin to burn, and a wave of dizziness makes my head spin as I realize they must have some kind of poison.
I don’t know what to do. I can’t?—
A rune. I could carve… a rune…
I’m thinking too slowly, moving too slowly as the poison courses through my bloodstream, unable to heal so long as the thorns are still in my skin. I start etching the first rune I can remember that might stop this fucking plant, but the frantic, uncoordinated movement pisses it off even more and I slip down the steps, throwing my arm out to break my fall.
I scream when the bones snap. Through tears, I watch as the piece of rock I was desperately trying to save myself with falls over the edge and plunks into the water. The pain becomes overwhelming, and I grit my teeth in agony, trying to control my breathing, but it’s useless as my vision fades, and the world goes black.
The first thing I feel is heat.
Tugging.
The vice grip around my chest falling away.
I desperately gasp for breath and cough violently on the ash and smoke, groaning when the movement jerks my broken arm.
My eyelids are pulled back as?—
“Roth?”
