“Well, we made it back!” pronounced Brown, slapping Wünder on his back.

“Yeah, we did!” affirmed the latter, looking back at the hole they had just crept through; they had returned to where they had originally been with Reynolds and Elysia.

“And now, we have no idea of where that bastard Reynolds may have gone off,” complained Brown, looking ahead of himself with a serious glint in his eyes.

Wünder kept quiet, as his brother took long strides forward, to wind himself up further, after the lengthy crawl-and-run they had just had. Wünder himself felt his legs trembling as he remembered the coldness and darkness of the tunnel just behind him, and the creatures they had left behind.

Upon agreeing to wait, Wünder observed his brother, as the latter ran a lap back to the natural vents they had passed through to enter the mines, and then came back, saying:

“Let’s go this way!” he pointed towards the opposite side of which Reynolds and Elysia had probably passed by. “This route is a shortcut to the latest borders we’ve mined to. We can make back our way searching for Elysia there. Should turn out fine even if they went far or close.”

Wünder agreed, and the two brothers started walking. Needless to say that the scene of the cave was a bit dreary to Wünder’s eyes, now that he had been through danger in it. Both brothers were equipped with a torch, and Brown took the lead.

Still, Wünder more or less looked forward to the cave exploration. The roof of the cave was all black, while its lit walls were a blend of gray and black, gleaming almost yellow with the shine of the torches. The tunnel was somber - hazy - and the footsteps of the two individuals resounded with thuds while they made their way through it.

The tunnel continued on endlessly, shadows invading the spots where the torches’ lights couldn’t reach. From Wünder’s perspective, it seemed like a monotonous road, unwaveringly remaining the same at each new torch they reached, each checkpoint they made.

The walls revealed veins of silver, and at times gold while they proceeded. But these were mostly nothing more than scraps - mere layers which solely added color to the walls, muddying them, or sprucing their surfaces to provide a silvery shine.

Wünder thought that the tunnel much resembled the old church in the village. The walls looked rough-hewn with the rocks, and the air at times smelled salty while they proceeded. This was no surprise, for this cave was reputed to have lots of minerals in its depths, the prime one of which was table-salt deposits.

Brown told Wünder that these were to be found in the lower levels of the cave, and he spoke of a stream surging from the insides of the cave whenever it was spring time, and that it rained a lot.

At a few intervals, stalactites could be found in the tunnel, some even joining with the ground, and there was a few amounts of alcoves - barely large enough to fit in a dog - and entrenched spaces where the miners had focused on digging.

A few spades and pickaxes could be found in some of these alcoves, and some buckets trailed along dug up gravel, abandoned for perhaps another day of working. Wünder felt bummed at the fact that he had to abstain from handling these pieces of instrument, as much as his curiosity was piqued when Brown mentioned discovering one or two jewels while he had been mining.

After about an hour or so, Brown said. “Think you can keep going, Wünder?”

“No worries, brother, I can.”

“Good,” Brown averred, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

Wünder felt somewhat tired, and his legs were growing limp, but he would rather not tell his brother about that. His hands were sweaty - cold sweat dried on the back on his shirt - and Wünder felt like he was breathing stagnated air.

While he contemplated making small talk with Brown to keep himself invigorated, Wünder suddenly heard a roar ahead of him. His brother stopped, and then bade Wünder to wait before slowly creeping forward.

Wünder did wait, and it took his brother less than one minute to join him back.

“The path ahead seems to have collapsed.”

“What should we do then?” Wünder asked, shifting the hold of his torch to his left hand.

“I don’t know. We’ve made it to all the way here. It may still be feasible to find a way through all the fallen rocks. However, it’s going to be dangerous if we resort to going through that. We should probably retu-”

The wall on their left cracked loudly.

“What was that?” Brown asked, looking behind him.

His brother looked at him in silence, and then, another crack appeared on the wall, before it blasted off, all the rocks from it rushing outward like projectiles. Brown dragged his brother forward, and watched the rocks slam on the right wall of the cave, trudging thunderously as they made contact with each other and rolled down the ground.

Brown kept to the corner of the right wall, before hearing another crack, and rushed forth to keep clear as another segment of the wall was destroyed. In the aftermath of it all, Brown found that both his path ahead, and that of retreat had been closed off.

He breathed hard, recovering from the shock of the events which had unfolded in front of him, but then heard a ruffling sound, and then a roar. Wünder peeked at the inside of the cracked wall, lifting his torch up.

Mere meters from him appeared the jaws of a monster, and its eyes glowed red. Brown swiftly grabbed Wünder, and made a break for it, heading towards the left, seeing as it was their only escape route.

The monster growled lugubriously, and made a terrible wheeze. And it stamped a talon at the front of the two brothers, cutting their path. It opened its cavernous mouth, showing its ferocious teeth, before Brown drawled. “Get under, Wünder!”

Wünder mechanically ducked, the monster’s teeth snapping at the air above him, and they got smothered by the throat of the beast. “Now! Let’s get away by passing under its leg!”

Wünder followed his brother’s orders, speechless, feeling a huge draft of wind as he went under the monster’s body. They entered a huge room, which had torches lit at far ends of the left and right, on the front.

They kept running, as the monster moved its body, and started charging in pursuit, rapidly gaining on them and opened its jaws, about to prowl upon them anew.

Just when it was a foot from them, its movements stopped, and a tremendous hiss was heard, before silence ensued, and then the monster gave a mighty roar. Brown and Wünder kept running, following the light of Wünder’s torch, and they suddenly felt the room growing hot; Brown looked behind to find the monster breathing fire upon them, and he prayed that it would not reach them.

“That’s a goddamn dragon!” he exclaimed reaching the end of the room, and waited for Wünder to catch up. The monster kept roaring, and breathed mightily throughout the room, and each time Brown thought the flames would reach them. Wünder spotted the exit to the room, and they bailed outside, stopping to survey their surroundings.

“Well,” Brown panted,” we seem to have no room for alacrity today.”

“Where did that creature come from, brother?”

Brown took a sharp look at his brother, “That’s what I would like to ask too, Wünder.”

They rested against the walls by the entrance leading to the dragon’s chamber. “It’s pretty hot,” remarked Wünder.

“You bet. My throat feels so parched.”

“It must be hard for you, brother. You’ve been mining since early morning and now you got dragged into something this dangerous.”

Brown mellowed his eyes, and smiled bleakly. “You shouldn’t be worrying about me, brother. We are both stuck at the moment.”

The dragon kept roaring behind them, illuminating the wall, and bathing it in hot blasts of air. Wünder’s ears grew numb while he rested. He brought his hand to it, and felt something sticky. Upon examination, he found that it was blood.

Brown peered at that, and said. “Can you hear me from both ears, Wünder?”

“Well… My right ear feels a little numb.”

The dragon roared anew, fiercer than ever.

“Could someone make that dragon shut up? Even I would have my voice grow hoarse if I screamed so much.”

“You sound as if you are a dragon yourself, brother.”

“You know that I’m not,” Brown chuckled.

Wünder laughed a bit as well, though it felt a bit forced.

“It’s really hot, right?”

“Yeah…”

Brown stood up, and asked for the torch. After taking a look at the dragon’s room, Brown examined the passageway they had found themselves in. The first end he chose balked abruptly at a wall of granite. Brown examined the wall, finding a rusted pitcher lying at its foot, and a spade as well; he lifted the latter, and reversed the pitcher, checking to see whether it contained any substance.

As for the wall of granite, he gave it a few bangs with the spade, and pressed his ear close to it, hoping to catch some air draught behind it, but with no luck. He concluded that neither could the wall could be broken, and nor did it seem likely for another path to be right behind these walls.

Brown came back to Wünder. “This side seems to be a dead-end. Let’s continue ahead. I’m sure that this place doesn’t exist by some mere hazard.” He flung the spade upon the side-wall for effect.

“Where did you get the spade?” Wünder asked, standing up, and dusting his clothes.

“It was lying around somewhere about the dead-end. I guess it should come in handy for protection.”

“Protection? You think we may find some more lizardmen, brother?”

“No,” Brown looked ahead, while his brother matched in with his footsteps. “It’s just for protection.”

“I see,” Wünder replied, his voice sounding dubious. “What about the pitcher?”

“Might just come in handy. I’ll show you when I find something else.”

Wünder was puzzled, but nodded nonetheless. “Okay.”

While they walked, they encountered stairs - stairs which sloped downwards. Brown paused, inspecting the walls about them for any clue of where they could be, but it was futile. They started climbing down the stairs; it sometimes broke off, sometimes had missing steps, and veered sharply to the left at a certain point.

The path continued on for about half a league, before Brown and Wünder came across a crossroad.

***

“There’s nothing more inept than cowards,” muttered Oregon, clobbering about the throne room. There was no one else in the room, and he winded himself up in a foul mood. “Those damn lackeys of Demesne! They dare goad me to this extent. They even destroyed my precious mediums of the Orgon Seer!”

He stomped his giant foot against the wall, making the air ripple with the succinct sound of a crack. The wall, in effect, displayed a line, which zigzagged up to the height of the knees of Oregon.

Oregon kicked the wall again, and engaged in this action repeatedly, until he grew bored of it. “Enough, I’m growing hungry now.”

Oregon narrowed his golden eyes, and considered the mushrooms at the right end of the room, which were in the same appearance - purple stalks and green caps - as they had been in the previous room where he had talked with Demesne’s agents but he shook his head. “Some meat should now be in order.”

He trundled along the left side of the room, and peeked into the entrance there. The place reflected in his eyes was filled with golden statues, artifacts of all kinds, including swords and armors, and lances, as much as golden plates and chalices.

His eyes fixed upon the small chest of gems that the woman back then had offered to him. It was a petty addition to his collection, but it was still a worthy one. Oregon nodded with satisfaction, and made his way to the south of the room, and eventually exited the room, entering a cavern which was shaped in the form of a birdcage.

There, flowed a giant stream of gold, protected by the creatures which served as the mediums of the Orgon Seers. The roof was at about ten meters from the ground, and it looked like nothing more than a dark point from the ground. The place had over half a dozen entrance points, three of which included the route of the stream flowing about the center of the room.

The stream came from the north-west and broke into two parts, much like a slingshot, and had a bridge of gold right at its middle. At its other side, there seemed to be hoards of statues. Oregon swiftly crossed to the other side of the stream, watching the golden substance glimmer with warm eyes.

Once across it, he took up the various statues of bears, wolves, and deer, studying them with the utmost interest. The stream flowed on, a pleasant sound of rushing gold to Oregon’s ears. Such a stream could not exist outside of the Taitanus Mountain - there was a relic which the giant possessed, which he bathed into the river, and from whence, the water of the stream adapted the properties of gold.

“Bland,” commented Oregon, looking at the statue of a bear. “Lame,” he commented, looking at the statue of a sheep, “half-baked, pathetic, monotonous!”

None of the statues appealed to him. The ground was strewn with bits of golden ores, with some silver added to it; they greeted his lambent feet as sedge would a sedulous promenade.

The room was pervaded by not only the sound of rushing gold, but welcomed the cacophony of miners working on the statues as well, panting and heaving as their tools clinked and cracked through the cooling gold to make it meld together into a statue. At the far left of the room, a furnace brewed; around the half-circle of the room facing to the right, golden crystals were propped up, emitting golden rays which were strong enough to light up the entire room, save for the dark spot at the top of the roof.

Oregon lifted another statue, and his eyes finally brimmed with satisfaction. What he was observing was the sculpture of a dragon, albeit not as detailed as the sculptures of the wolves and bears.

Oregon carefully placed it on the ground, beside a set of human statues, each life-sized. The Orgon mediums stared at each of the statues, and slowly, they transformed into the very objects they were seeing.

“I see we are quite busy here,” mumbled Oregon jollily. Soon, his attention came upon a bony creature with ruddy cheeks and hollowed-out eyes. “Oh, Bot! Happy to see you back!” he exclaimed, and then in a more conspiratorial tone, “how about it? Did you prepare a juicy meal for me?”

“Oh, but I did Master Oregon! Let me ask my servants to come forward.”

“Sure, sure. I’m just so famished. Why didn’t you come earlier?”

“I was looking for the right meal, master.”

“I suppose you would. Well, what do we have here?”

Under the expectant gaze of Oregon, two wooden dolls carried a human figure to him. It was a figure tied to wooden poles, its hands and legs tied up, while a piece of cloth had been used to muffle it. And it had long hair, as well as an angular face. If it were allowed to grow up, it would surely develop into a fine creature - that’s what Oregon thought.

The figure in question was a girl, and her appearance was no different from that of Elysia. “That’s not all that appetizing, Bot. I need them more chubby, you know that.”

“I’m most aggrieved by your discontentment, Master Oregon. This was the best one I could find. Should I perhaps…”

“No need,” Oregon chastised, flashing his teeth. “I’ve been so ravenous that I could even gobble you down, Bot.” Oregon laughed. “I’ll heartily eat the ones which have yet to be escorted here.”

“Understood, Master Oregon!”

“Indeed…”

Oregon waited for the wooden dolls to untie the girl, and seized her, as she hollered, and screamed with blood-curdling intensity. Oregon smiled obscenely, and chomped upon the poor girl with avidity.