While the Wandering wizard talked, the Archmage’s spell slowly wore off, giving space to small talk, rumours and speculations. Nearly everyone exchanged few words between their friends and companions, with exceptions being the Litch – who had no one to talk to, and the Archmage – who would never choose to gossip when he had the opportunity to listen to a story he had never heard before.

  “You think his story will be better than the Litch’s? That fucker certainly has something nice behind his bones, maybe he can even retell some of the ancient fairytales?” Ekta asked her sister, hushly. They were lying together on a big sofa, close to the Archmage’s place, so, they had to be very quiet.

  “Maybe? I guess, so far the Lich certainly has a high chance to top him. The Wizard is meticulous in his storytelling, but I would say that up to now, even our story is much better. I can’t decide until he finishes though.” The Witch-Sister replied. When whispering, she turned around on the sofa, as her robe got tangled in an uncomfortable way.

  “Hmm, I still regret that he didn’t talk about his duel with the dragon… Also, why did he never mention his sword? I thought he was good at handling it…” Ekta, the Knight-Sister, really hoped to hear about the famous duel of sword and sorcery – and maybe, challenge the Wizard to one of their own. Without the sorcery part, of course. She looked at Sekta questioningly.

  “You really think people like us bother to carry such a burdensome piece of metal around? Gaftel doesn't need a sword to battle a whole squad, Ekta. He is a master Wizard, not some novice who needs a sharpened stick to fight in close quarters.” Sekta replied sharply, as if disgusted that her sister would even consider something like that. Her voice was much louder than before.

  “What about you? You would sooner choose a nightclub over grimoires than beat a whole squad.” Ekta smirked.

  “Pfft! That’s because I am worrying about your safety dear sister. Powerful spells are too risky to cast in the presence of such a fragile lady like you.” Sekta laughed.

  Prodigy Twins no longer talked in their hush tone, and the Archmage noticed. “Ekta, Sekta – quiet.” He ordered, bringing their squabble to a sudden halt.

  In very late autumn, when the snow had already started to fall in some regions and the travellers on the roads became scarce, I got a job from Count Sardoix, a wealthy noble from the city of Harvoi to search for a rare plant, called “Starfish Blue”.

  Putting aside the weird name, the flower, which is used in concoction of high-grade alchemical brews, is rumoured to be most commonly found in the highland meadows of Far-Garrad. A land mostly hostile to humans, ruled by the orcish warbands on the surface and dwarven fortresses below the ground.

  Far-Garrad rarely has any snow, and vegetation generally survives the winter between the hills, hidden from the deathly winds. That’s why regardless of the coming winter, I agreed to the commission, believing that finding the flower would be a matter of a few barters with the local humans, and maybe a confrontation with an orkish warband freshly banished from their ex-settlement.

  Oh how wrong I was.

  First of all, the weather turned out to be much more aggressive than I thought. Despite the lack of snow and generally dry surroundings, the wind was aggressive and cold beyond reason. Poking a head from beyond the hills’ even for a moment felt as if entering a deep dungeon connected to the Icy Hells. I moved only in the shadow of meadows, which while giving me the opportunity to search closer for the flower, rendered me blind to the dangers further away.

  Secondly, the ground was incredibly hard, as if it were a rock. At first, it was nice, a stable foothold for me and my horse, rarely slippery and never too squishy – but soon I found out that it was a curse in disguise. Nice to walk, hard ground – proved to be a formidable foe in any and every daily task, from getting the tent up to preparing the hole to get the fire going.

  At last, the meadows are incredibly barren, with nearly no wildlife in sight. Or rather, the life that prospers there is too small and elusive for me to find, most of the time. I had to be on the constant lookout for animals, else I would die of starvation. The only one happy was my horse, who had plenty of food around.

  When I arrived in Far-Garrad, I immediately headed for one of the few human settlements in the whole area – Kaploristorti, a small fort surrounded by possibly only agricultural land I saw the whole time I was there.

  The people there were lovely and happily took me in for a few days. They rarely get travellers and take delight in stories similarly to the Archmage. There, I gathered as much information on the surrounding areas as I could, they even knew where the “Starfish Blue” was found most commonly – but for that information, I had to to pay. Fortunately, while I didn’t have any of their local currency, they agreed to trade for a few minor enchantments.

  That’s also when I heard them talking about another traveller, who asked for the same things a few weeks ago. They seemed concerned, as the woman hadn’t returned yet, even though the place she went to had no way back other than through Kaploristorti. I didn't pay much attention to that at the time though.

  If I am to be honest, I was ripped off – but beggars aren’t choosers, and I definitely didn’t have many other options to pay them other than the enchants.

  Soon, I was once again on the road, or rather, between the hills. I headed for the best spot, according to locals – a plain surrounding a deep canyon.

  Travel there was worse than when I was heading to Kaploristorti, as the hills slowly became smaller and smaller, till none remained. Then, the worst experience of my life started.

  Frosty wind, cold, hard ground and even scarcier of animals – I had to hide behind my horse most of the time, just to walk. Safe to say, it was not comfortable. The plain around the canyon was massive, which didn’t help at all, but at least, I saw the deep gash in the ground all the way from the hills. It was enticing, getting me motivated to go forward. the flower was supposed to be there, hidden in the crevices where the wind doesn’t seep in.

  After two days of gruelling travel, surrounded by the faura of the steppe, I finally arrived next to the crack, spreading for hundreds of metres in length and tens in width. The crack was not lone though, as many assume, the canyon reaches hundreds of metres deep and like a web of cracks in a mirror, spreads in all directions.

  “Sorry! But what does ‘faura’ mean?” Some mage in the back of the crowd asked, evidently confused by the enlightened naming sense of Gaftiel’s.

  “Fauna and flora, – isn’t that obvious?” Archmage Kairon replied instead of the storyteller, as if the answer was evident from the start.

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  The curious mage looked at Gaftiel for confirmation, and seeing that the Wandering Wizard didn’t raise any objections, he apologised in a weak and quiet voice: “Sorry, but no…”

  The cracks on the outsides are always much shallower and get deeper as they near the web’s centre, like the shores of the sea. That’s where I entered, leaving my horse on the plain, where he had plenty of grass to munch on.

  Leaving my only companion behind, I have to admit I began to feel lonely, especially since the irrational fear of “a big spider will come from behind that crack” kicked in, inside the webway of aforesaid cracks.

  The first day wasn’t eventful, or rather, was boring. Nothing in particular happened, I walked, crawled and jumped between the cracks for more than ten hours, not finding even one “Starfish Blue”. Even though I was essentially wasting time, I actually enjoyed it very much, you all should go there sometime and explore those spaces, it's a very unique experience.

  The second day was the one where the adventure began.

  Leaving the horse once more alone on the surface, I immediately headed deep into the cracks as I already explored most of those closer to the surface. Only twenty minutes or so into the fissures, and I was already over 50 metres deep beneath the ground – my fear of spiders got more apparent as the light was slowly drowned by deep shadows and the walls got closer to each other.

  Finally, about eighty metres down and two hours after leaving the camp, I spotted a flower – very blue and very starfishy. That was the moment when I understood the biologist’s naming sense, the plant really was resembling a blue starfish, weirdly placed on an unnaturally thin stalk.

  Slowly, I walked over, nearing the shelf on which the flower grew. I only needed to jump over a small crevice, and the plant would be within my reach. But then, the ground below me parted.

  I lost my footing, falling into a deep hole that materialised itself below where I stood before. It was narrow, roughly carved and had numerous sharp corners on which my clothes got hooked and torn, not to mention numerous cuts and bruises I obtained as I fell down the twisting corridor, deep into the underground.

  After a minute or two, of distressed attempts at slowing down, I finally stopped on the floor of a large cave, covered in moss and stinking of rotten flesh. I looked around, even before gathering myself, and noticed numerous bones scattered on the floor, some cracked – mostly those which looked as if they were once legs – some whole, as if but licked clean by a dog, pristine white and clean.

  “They surely can’t compare to mine!” The Lich shouted from the ceiling, flailing his arms and legs proudly – and thus making the chains rumble against the rock ceiling like cruel drums. To be fair, no one present in the hall had ever seen bones as white and as well preserved over time as his.

  Archmage gave the boney-banshee a scornful look, then nodded at Gaftiel to return to his story.

  The cave I found myself in was clearly exploited by intelligent creatures, holds for torches and a clearly thought-out path through the cave led me to believe so. To see that though, I had to conjure a ball of fire, one of the most basic spells taught, useful to heat yourself up, or as in this case – shower the surroundings in light.

  After taking a last glance around the room filled with bones – by the way, none of them were humanoid, I think I forgot to mention that before – I slowly walked to the carved corridor somewhere at the back, as it was the only way to leave that I noticed.

  I walked slowly in that narrow, damp, way – looking ahead and ready to smash any adversaries with my staff – which fortunately, survived the fall with minor scratches. The path led me through a few long but slim caves, covered in moss, stalactites and mushrooms which clung to all surfaces. Eventually, the way started to widen, slowly becoming part of a huge cave – then transforming into the bottom of an unbelievably deep crevice. At that time, the need for the spell vanished, as the midday sun shone slightly from between the cracks above, faintly and barely, but still.

  The crevice connected to the cave perpendicularly, as such, I had two ways to go – right and left. Two unknowns, hidden by twists and turns of the fissure, and both uninviting – as the light from above didn’t seem to reach there.

  I decided to go right.

  Soon, I had to summon the orb once again to ward off the darkness. But it unsettled me, as the crackling of fire seemed to hide noises from the deep – screeches and sharp scratches. Haunting voices of monsters seeking solace in the night far below Far-Garrad.

  I turned around, truthfully – I was scared.

  Weak from the fall, with torn clothes and numerous untreated cuts and bruises all around my body, I was not in a perfect state to face what may hide in the darkness. Not that I wanted to even know if those sounds were just some nightmares prepared for me by my paranoic imagination, or real sounds, torn from the throats of creatures that have a reason not to show themself in the light of the sun.

  On the way back to the sun-gazed crevice, I looked over my shoulders uncountable number of times – even sending my source of light away from me and walking backwards at times. When I saw the sun again, I was relieved, as if that was enough to make me safe.

  I stopped by the path towards the bone-covered clave, before heading in the opposite direction than I came from, hoping that the light doesn't abandon me once more.

  Fortunately, the gap widened as I went deeper, it was dark too – but not dark-dark – shady but still visible. There, the floor was much more polished, indicating that people walked through there often, and the walls had much less moss on them as if someone ripped it off from time to time.

  Deeper even, I walked next to a few tunnels similar to the one I came from originally, all with bone-filled caves on the end – like where I fell. I’d say the one in which I crashed was the biggest one, along with having the most bones of them all. It was also the only one with such a big corridor-cave leading to it.

  Leaving behind the bone caves, I continued down the tunnel – until I saw a faint, reddish light in the distance.

  Slowly, I crept over – with no spell as torchlight – towards the unnatural light ahead. Near enough to hear the flame crack, I hid in the shadow of the tunnel, gazing at a bigger opening. The cave was nearly circular, probably twenty metres in diameter at most, from three-fourths surrounded by crevices such as the one I came from. The last quarter though, was occupied by a solid, stone brick wall, in which a monstrous iron door was placed. Monstrous, as in terrifying in sight, as the runes on it shone spookily – it was small though, maybe reaching my shoulder in height.

  Next to the door, a humanoid curled into a fetal position with its back against the stone brick wall. Their head hung low, hidden under a big hood, as they stared ahead at the slim hand poking from the thick coat – from which a small wisp of flame flickered – magical.

  I decided to confront the stranger as soon as I saw them, they were in no less unfortunate situation, by what it looked like, but I couldn’t let my guard down just yet. Fortunately, I still had my focus, while the mage curled against the wall seemed not to, casting form hands.

  I approached slowly, with my staff in an outstretched hand, ready to reflect some spell or rock the stranger might have thrown at me. When I was relatively near – and the sitting mage hadn’t yet raised their eyes up from the flame – which as I think about it now, might have blinded them – I softly struck the base of my staff on the stone ground, and with as stern of a voice I could muster, I said: “Stay down, introduce yourself!”.

  Unfortunately, the mage didn’t consider my words or haven’t been able to discern their meaning. A small ball of liquid fire flung out of their hand, as they transformed the flame and threw it in a sling motion. As their hand was outstretched, I could finally realise if that was a Witch or a Wizard that I faced.

  I deflected the spell with my own – force wave – from the tip of my staff and sent it a few meters next to the slender-handed Witch. The woman was already on her feet, dashing in the opposite direction to where her deflected spell had fallen, but before she could muster the magic to attack me once again – I retaliated with force of my own.

  Smashing the base of my staff against the stone, this time loudly – I unleashed a wave of fire, that soon transformed into a cage of sorts. It blocked the Witch’s way, then surrounded her on all sides apart from where the stone wall was.

  “Stop! I am Gaftiel, a Wandering Wizard – And I don’t want to hurt you,” I shouted over the roaring flames. She managed to throw another fiery attack at me – which didn’t leave the cage – before she heard my plea for a ceasefire.

  Soon after she heard that though, she quietly uttered my name, then lowered her hood – And you won’t believe who I found in the deep caves far below Far-Garrad, in cracks where sun-fearing evil may lurk – it was She, Aurila of Bulrush.