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14

Past best forgotten,
Forced back upon later days,
As a dire warning.
- Rasakūn.

Much to Tuccé's chagrin, as sweat puddled in the small of his back, Yurivno fell to the floor, crossing her legs while pulling out sheets of paper from her bag. She intended writing notes at a time like this? With a pool of lava below, skeletons glaring with mocking eyes from alcoves and a darkness surrounding them that felt altogether far too dark? He threw his arms up in despair.

"What are you doing? This isn't the time!" He looked to White Eye for help, but she slumped against the wall, cradling her walking stick to her chest, shaking her head. "We're not here for a history lesson!"

"But, I need to record this. The scholars in Tarkar's Bridge would never forgive me." Head dipped, Yurivno began scribbling upon the paper, looking up at the paintings every-so-often. "They're flat, so I can't take rubbings. What if something happened? What if this precious story became lost again?"

"They've lasted thousands of years, they'll last a little longer." Uncertain what to do, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You have to choose, Yurivno. Record all this, or complete what your father began. It's too hot down here to play around. If I knew your father, he would have got that key by now."

At mention of her father, Yurivno stopped her furious scratching upon the paper, the words little more than illegible scribbles to Tuccé. Her tail flicked once, then twice. She looked up at the paintings once more before folding the papers and returning them to her bag. As Yurivno stood, the old woman stood, as though connected by some invisible string.

"I'll come back. The history of my people is here. History no-one knows about." As though it pained her, Yurivno turned away, her head lowered. "Though, how we'll be able to reach the key through this heat, I don't know."

Her back straightened as she returned to the task in hand. Tuccé could not imagine how she felt. The history of his homeland, of Villeta and of Orususk, the Shining City, Empire of the Sun and Moons, was well documented. Everyone knew that history, though Tuccé never took the time to study it. Or think about it.

To have a history revealed that had become lost in time, for a race that had languished in slavery for so long, the urge to learn it must border on desperation. Especially for someone as bright and inquisitive as this Kannai girl. He felt a little guilty at pulling her away, but his desire to find the ancient Kannai city, and its gold, overcame any empathy he may feel for Yurivno. They needed that key.

They continued following the sloping path until it began to flatten out, at the very bottom of the shaft. The heat had become almost unbearable and it prickled the parts of Tuccé's skin not covered by clothing. To the side, White Eye also looked uncomfortable, though, for her, a slight twist of the lips seemed about as much emotion she felt willing to show.

How Yurivno felt, with that thick, golden-yellow fur of hers, and her clothing, Tuccé couldn't imagine. He hadn't seen her take many drinks from her water flask since they had entered the catacombs and he didn't fancy having to carry her if she collapsed of dehydration. Without asking, he dipped into her bag, removed her water flask and shook it in front of her face.

As though distracted, she took the flask, drank a little and handed it back without looking. Tuccé sighed, returning the flask to her bag. Yurivno had seen something else that had caught her eye. A podium, of some kind, that sat in the centre of the path that led towards the bridge over the lava flow.

"Volcanos right next to villages, rain seasons that last weeks and lava flows beneath cities. This island is nothing but disasters waiting to happen." Muttering to himself, he took a drink from his own flask. "I'm going straight back to the mainland, after all this. At least I only have to worry about wars there."

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