Finally made it. Almost.

The Moon is right over the Abyss right now, illuminating the walls with a faint, bluish, eerie glow.

I'm currently dangling next to the Abyss wall, trying to work up my courage to drop down onto the platform that the staircase begins on.

The Abyss is really more than just a hole, it's like an entire world down there, if the stories are to be believed, I haven't actually seen it myself yet. I've only just now gotten to the most superficial layer of the Abyss, the Staircase. The Staircase does not protrude out of the walls of the Abyss, because that would make life a little simpler. Naturally the Abyss has to carve the staircase into its walls. It's these little things in life that cause the most pain.

I need to push off the wall and slide down the rope a little to swing down and into the staircase space, of course, I need to make sure to let go of the rope on time or I'll truly never go back to the Grimes.

And so that's what I do. For the most part.

My form was perfect. I pushed off the wall and slipped down the rope just the right amount. I swung over majestically and soared like a bird. Just, when it came time to let go panic wrapped around my heart like a noose around a neck. My stiff hands would not let go until forced them to open with the power of my will and my fear of death or worse, proving Hermione right.

I land with my feet half on the staircase platform and half off. The force of the fall causes my feet to slip and I fall into the Abyss, that is until the platform is level with my arms which slam into the cold rock. I let out a breath of relief and scrabble with my feet against the Abyss wall to pull myself back up.

I make it onto the platform with my underarms bruised and lacerated but at least I'm alive. I flop over onto my back and just breathe.

I hear a faint voice echo down the Abyss.

“You still alive Nikolai?”

I don't reply just yet for fear of vomiting all over.

The voice reaches my ears again.

“Nikolai, you better answer or i'll come down there and kill you.”

I smile at the absurdness of it all.

“No, I'm still alive. Get down here.” I yell up at her.

I pull out the Emberite out of my pack, since the moon doesn't give enough light to really look around.

I see the rope begin to sway as she starts to descend.

It probably took me around a half an hour to get down here. It should take her a bit longer. And now that my heart isn't in my throat I can look around a bit.

The first thing I notice is the detailed scenes etched on the walls. It's actually pretty amazing that, that, is the first thing I notice because the second thing I notice is the dead body slumped over, its back against the wall.

Now, normally dead bodies aren't surprising or particularly notable to the residents of the Grimes, we've been desensitized long ago. Bodies can often be found when taking a stroll through the Grimes, especially during the winter. The cold, the hunger, and that blade between the ribs. But none of that prepared me for this kind of death.

The body is drenched in blood and the skin is flayed. I can't even tell the gender because the face is practically gone and the chest completely caved in.

It's a miracle that this person was able to climb the stairs, oh hmm, yea, someone probably carried it up. Or something. Or maybe this happened up here. But, I guess it's not… messy enough for it to have happened here.

I get a bit closer to try to examine the body for some more details but the smell and the exceptionally detailed innards hit me in an almost physical blow.

Oh God, I'm going to--

I rush away from the body, closer to the edge of the staircase, and fall over onto my knees and start to dry heave.

One, two, - five dry heaves later I feel well enough to take a breath of musty air that doesn't try to kill me.

I plop down on my posterior, support my body with my arms as I lean back, turn my head up to the ceiling, and let out a long groan.

Maybe I should throw the body over into the Abyss before Hermione gets here and gets scared off. But then I'd need to get close--

I shudder as I suppress another dry heave.

Ah, nevermind. Just think lighter thoughts Nikolai, like that time you stole the Maroon Ring from Maslo, and planted it in the Edichhi gang. You single handedly started a gang war that ended five different gangs, child gangs, true, but still gangs. Jericho Edichhi, may the bastard rot in the Infernal Abyss, takes over MY favorite rooftop nook, steals my stuff and doesn't expect retribution? Hah.

Ah, those were the good ol’ days. This dead thing is nothing compared to what I've seen, I've seen wraiths prowl the streets during the Three Year Winter. I was there when Silvano beheaded Hendrickson the Bull at the banquet in the Crooked Castle, he was a shitty, unreasonable Under King, heck, I still have some of Hendricksons blood in a very expensive glass vial, somewhere, just in case he ever makes good on his final oath to come back. It's been three years and he hasn't made it yet, so I think we are in the clear.

I sigh and get back up. This time I don't bother looking at the body, though I do keep catching sight of it in the corner of my eye. Instead I take a closer look at the engravings.

The engravings look rounded, there are no sharp edges -- weathered, that's the word. Strange how that is, how would they even get weathered here, there's almost no wind or water here and it's only been two months since the Abyss opened.

Abyss’s are weird, does this Abyss care whether people get cut on sharp edges? Does it care about anything? Is it even sentient? If it's not then why would it form images that tell a story onto its walls?

It's like the Abyss wants people to touch and feel the engravings.

The engravings seem to begin the story at the corner of the platform furthest from the staircase.

I walk up to the beginning of the story and put my hand on the engravings. They feel smooth and oddly warm, as if someone was just touching the wall. I run my hands across the twists and turns in the rock face in wonder.

They depict a human figure walking through different landscapes, through fields, through mountains, forests, deserts. There are other people in the engravings, wandering eternally, always bent and crooked, wiggley and wavey, never straight-backed like this figure.

I keep moving, following the story with my hand still trailing along the wall.

The figure--

A man surely, any story worth telling is about a man after all

I smirk when I think of what Hermione would say in response to that.

--seems to reach a valley surrounded by mountains taller than the sky.

The figure makes his way down to the valley. The engraving seems to show that this valley is different. The engraving of the valley has swirls and lines radiating outwards.

Seems like something a child could draw, but when on this wall it seems to be filled with a great dignity, something grand and wonderful.

The engravings depict the man in the center of the valley amidst a maelstrom emitted from an orb.

Further along the wall the man fights against the maelstrom to get to the orb, and the maelstrom fights back. Wind and fire, earth and rain, lightning and thunder, until finally the man beats the storm and lays hands on the orb.

The engravings go on down the staircase.

I really want to move on and look at them, but I know if I leave without Hermione she'll get me down the Abyss the fast way.

And so I reluctantly let go of the wall and go back to the swaying rope.

In what seems like no time at all I hear Hermione right above. I get as close to the edge of the platform as possible and see her silhouette against the light of the moon.

I open my mouth to explain to her how I got down, but then she suddenly launches with the rope, slides down the perfect length, and I suddenly realize that she's going to slam into me if keep standing there like an idiot.

I dive out of the way directly to the side and see her release as the rope bends around the lip of the platform's ceiling. The rope acts like the swings at the Fringe do, it launches Hermione in a convex arc and she releases at the end of the arc and does a backflip then lands in a perfect T stance. Well into the platform I might add.

A fucking backflip?

“What the actual fuck Hermione.”

“What?

She gives me a confused look

“A backflip?” I have to shout to show the absurdity.

“Well how else was I supposed to get down?”

I'm silent for a while as I stare at her.

“What?” she asks again.

“You could have asked me how to get down. I would have told you to simply swing the rope to me so that I could hold it while you get down.”

“Oh I see, you're mad because I didn't ask for your help. Well I don't need your help, Nikolai.”

How did this become my fault. Women!

I mentally shake my head. While blankly staring at Hermione.

“Men! You always think you need to protect or help us--”

I suddenly get a tingle run through my body as Hermione suddenly stops ranting.

“Nikolai, is that a dead body?”

A moment of silence punctuated by the wind whistling at the top of the Abyss, then I begin to mutter.

“Well, yeah, it's not like it's my fault it decided to just die there. I mean, its like it's trying to ruin the full Delver experience. You can't expect me to be at fault? I didn't kill it, I just found it there…”

And at the point I realize she's not even listening.

“Wow, Nikolai did you see those etchings?”

She completely forgets about the horribly mutilated dead body right in front of her.

Residents of the Grimes are insane.

I don't respond because she's obviously not going to listen to my reply.

“This is amazing, look, it's like it's telling a story. Do you even understand what this means? The Abyss is telling a story, Nikolai! What we could learn… ”

She almost begins to salivate and I completely understand her.

Hermione moves to put her hand on the wall but suddenly stops herself.

“Touching this would be blasphemy.”

Cold sweat pours down my back.

I definitely did not touch that wall, I didn't even think about it.

“Look Nikolai, the Abyss is telling a story about a person, It must be a woman, oh, and that orb! It must be the origin of the Abyss.”

How'd she connect the orb and the Abyss? Must have been explained in a lesson I didn't spy on.

Her face gains an enlightened look.

“Huh, I guess the story is about the Abyss after all. The Abyss must be a male, only men are conceited enough to carve their own story into a wall. I mean if I were to tell about myself I'd just create a book 'written' by an ancient, long dead, philosopher explaining me and then letting it be found. ”

“Hermione, shut up. You don't insult an Abyss, while inside an Abyss. Especially the kind of Abyss that tells story's.”

Realization dawns on Hermione.

“Oh. That's right. ”

She flusteredly pulls on her shirt then looks up at me, “Well, what are you waiting for. You have the Emberite. Go. I wanna see what happens next.”

“We don't have time for that, we'll take a closer look on the way back up” I say as I walk to the staircase.

“Hmm, I guess. The faster we go down the faster we go back up.”

I can hear the regret dripping from her words, and I feel it too, though it's about bringing her with me. I would have had more time to look at the engravings without her.

I start on the long way down with Hermione trailing behind me.

———

After hours of walking, jogging, running, and even falling, which elicited copious amounts of laughter from Hermione (and a grand amount of pain from me), we finally made it to what seems to be bottom of the staircase.

I finally walk out of the murderous stairwell (I swear there was a trick step) with great big bruises all along my arms and ribs.

So far the Delver experience isn't stellar.

Hermione is still smiling.

“What are you still smiling about?”

“Oh nothing.”

She puts her hand over her mouth to cover the still obvious smile.

“I was just thinking that the Abyss is truly amazing. It's wise decision to make the staircase spiral around its perimeter, essentially putting a wall up to stop a fall, well, it probably saved your life.”

I pointedly turn around and ignore her.

I then realize that's foolishness. And so I sigh and turn back to face her. And I speak as seriously as I could.

“There was a dead body up there Hermione.”

The smile fades off of her face as she's not stupid, no matter how daft she pretends to be.

“I know. We’ll have to be careful, the only thing I could think of from the lessons that could do something like that is hobgoblins.”

I nod.

“Seems like the people that were here didn't expect to find Abyssal Constructs. They were just ordinary fools.”

“So you think there was more than one person here as well?”

“Well duh, Abyssal Constructs don't go near the exit of the Abyss. The Aether thins as you get closer to the exit of the Abyss. They can't go near here with experiencing something similar to what we would experience if we stayed in an Aether saturated environment for too long.

“Ah, Aether sickness, bleed’n from everywhere, nausea, then eventually a death filled with agony as everything breaks. Did I get it right, Mom?”

“Oh yeah, you got it right, and that's why we will only stay on the surface level, and for no longer than this night. The younger you are the more sensitive to the Aether you are, and thus more susceptible to the sickness.”

“So if anything, run here. But yeah, because no Construct can get over here, there had to be someone else to carry that guy up. I've no clue why though. He was obviously going to die.

“Maybe he was a friend?”

“A friend? In the Grimes?”

“Aren't we friends?”

She blinks.

“I guess we are, aren't we. But don't expect me to drag your dead body back up there.”

“What if I was still alive, like he probably was?”

She stays quiet this time.

Why did I say that.

She contemplates for a bit before slowly answering

“I would kill you.”

I nod

“Good. You can trust me to do the same.”

She nods as well.

The Abyss is wonderful and cruel, beautiful and horrendous.

“Alright enough of that Nikolai. Focus on making your big discovery.”

“Yeah.” I say with a sigh.

“The surface level seems to be a cave system. That's one of the more dangerous type of floor.”

The Abyss walls are filled with tunnel openings. All different sizes and shapes, some just little more than cracks in the wall.

“Well let's get started then.”