II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 35 - Quarry

-Atlanta-

Her leg throbbed horribly, shivering in the infinite shadow of the tunnels, trying to ignore the chaos over her head on the surface where countless Zarkarians sought the intruders that Tret had signalled for. The upside to it was that none of them had a clue that it had to do with Atlanta, Dareon, or Lucan being the prophecized Dragon Vessels.

Sweat pasted her hair to her face, eyelids fluttering as she tried to keep as quiet as she could. The others could not know she was in pain, not now. Atlanta would never allow them to stop their progress for some flesh wound.

"How were these tunnels even made?" Dareon whispered under his breath to Menaleen, having somehow earned her trust and reason for casual conversation. The dimming flicker of their dying torch played across his freckles as he stared at Menaleen intently, her trying hard to hold his gaze.

"No one really knows for sure," she began, tapping her finger against the floor of the tunnel. "Some say that in the time of the Dragons there were many other beasts as well. Myth says there were Sand Serpents as big as wide as these tunnels, hard as stone and with teeth that swallowed earth. As such they were called Sand Eaters, or Sand Dragons. They were the ones who made these tunnels. Others say they were dug out by lost folk looking for shade in this desert, and decided underground would be best while they built a city on the surface. Others say these tunnels were always here, with no reason at all for existing."

"Then why keep the Wielders of the Old Blood down here?" Even in this darkness Atlanta could see him making elaborate gestures with his hands, as if he couldn't really form how he wanted to phrase any of his sentences.

"Well, I was told it was to keep them away from our eyes. I think the last time any Wielder was in these tunnels was when I was a small child, and I never knew for sure that anyone was down here." Menaleen shifted in the darkness. "Witches are a disgrace here, and many have tried to take them out of the breeding circle so we would never have their kind anymore. However, some Wielder children are born to normal parents. Many efforts were futile."

"But why are they a disgrace? I have an idea from what I've seen so far, but really, why are they a shame to this kingdom?"

Silence ensued for a moment, Menaleen pausing in thought.

"When I think about it, I don't understand it much. They were rejected because they were considered inhuman, as if cheating death with their abilities while at the same time being dubbed immoral and poisonous to us. Many of our forefathers..." She froze for a second after she said the word, jaw working as she rephrased it. "Well, there were many old men centuries ago that believed a mortal isn't living to his capacity unless he is born untainted and plain, and can grow to greatness with his efforts. Wielders are born with... Advantages. They can't become great, and are assumes as already at their peak, and are then deemed unrighteous and unworthy to life. But we don't kill them because we don't know they're Wielders until they're a little bit older, and when we discover it, we send them away instead rather than killing them off."

Dareon slumped against the tunnel wall. "That doesn't sound right."

"It doesn't sound right to me anymore either. It sounds cruel."

Atlanta tried not to roll her eyes as she shifted in her spot, clenching her teeth as she adjusted her position to better suit her wounds.

Perhaps she wasn't being as discreet as she wanted. Lucan stood from his spot closer to Dareon and Menaleen, and slid closer to Atlanta. She tried hard not to react when his knee bumped her leg, eliciting a weak gasp from her mouth.

"You're wounded," he whispered, ripping her attention away from the other two who were having a knowledge exchange.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious," she hissed, moving her injury away from him. "You're injured too, as I recall. Leave me to deal with my own wounds."