COF 2: The Soul Spells

13 | Cochraim (I)

Cyrdel gasped as he bolted upright. His eyes opened to a strange landscape. He knitted his eyebrows as he reoriented his skewed glasses. That's an abundance of plants in one cave. The cavernous ceiling enveloped a collection of bushes, short trees, grass, and vines that reminded Cyrdel of the terrarium he built using dyed clay when he was five. Was Ravalee still holding on to it?

He pushed himself up, dusting his coveralls of whatever dust that stuck to him on his way here. Where was he anyway? He looked around, noting the carpet of magrora clinging everywhere from rocks, trunks, and even the walls and the ceiling of the cave. Somehow, an image of his mother's wing flashed in his head. It was a treasure trove of rugs as his mother was known to fancy them.

The thought of his drove a pang of guilt and dread in Cyrdel's heart. He had to hurry. He began moving forward, passing by sempervivum bushes that reminded him too much of Percester. Details blurred from his periphery as he ran towards the exit. Wait, did he even know if there was an exit?

He shook his head and forced his legs to go faster.

You are inside Cochraim's bosom, a familiar voice rang into the cavern, stopping Cyrdel in his tracks. He stepped back, craning his neck at the ceiling. That's where the voice came from, right? Cochraim lies at the end of this cavern. The test is whether you can get to it alive.

Cyrdel wrung his hands on his coveralls, hoping the fabric would absorb the moisture pouring from his skin. "Why?" Cyrdel crossed his arms. "What could possibly kill me in there? Isn't this a safe passage?"

The voice chuckled. Should he go along? It sounded like an amused laugh and Cyrdel was anywhere but near that. Do you know why almost none seek the Dead's guidance? The voice asked.

Cyrdel knitted his eyebrows and shook his head. "Look, Mister Voice," he felt strange about talking to empty air and calling it Mister Voice. "Just tell me what to do and let's be done with it."

You dread the test, Mister Voice noted. Do you know what's waiting for you at the end?

Nira's bottoms, Mister Voice was harder to figure out than Ravalee's mood swings. "Why don't we just start?" Cyrdel rubbed his hands together before stuffing them into the pockets by the hips of his coveralls. "Where's this Cochraim?"

Start by continuing in the Path laid out in your feet, Mister Voice advised. It will become clear as you journey deeper.

As if a light from a lamp snuffing, the voice quietened. Cyrdel exhaled through his nose and kicked at a random bush. Thanks for nothing, Mister Voice.

He sighed, casting his eyes into the darkness and mess of leaves beyond. Onward, it was.

He walked for about an hour, which was an empty assumption. For all he knew, he was walking for a whole day and his people had died already. He dug the timeteller off its place in one of his pockets. He knit his eyebrows. That's weird. The gears were still working when he left Depandes.