Garden Of The Abyss
Chapter 44 - Make The Choice
He didn't know what he was talking about until he stood up as well, looking forward at the massive cave entrance sitting ahead of them. It was impossible to see what was even past the first meter within the cave, hearing a faint cackling of embers from within.
"Uh, you've got this from here right?" Ren smiled nervously as he slowly backed away from the cave entrance, "Ah, my back hurts!"
Going inside that foreboding cave was the last thing he wanted to do. It set off every flag for him that screamed of imminent death. The darkness, the likelihood of devilish green monsters, the concerning silence--he wanted none of it.
"Get your ass over here," Tristan sighed, grabbing Ren by the back of his armor.
"Seriously...I don't think I'm up for this…" Ren tried to find a way out of this.
"Man, you're a pain in the ass, but I guess half of that is my fault. What I told you about goblins is true, but it was mostly meant for you to not underestimate them--and now it seems I've done the opposite. Goblins are scavengers, not builders. They adapt off of what humans leave for them. This forest doesn't even have any human settlements, only the occasional rookie adventurers passing through--so these goblins are as basic as they come, Ren. Even someone like you could handle the little freaks," Tristan sighed, ruffling his own hair.
A gust of wind howled from the stone cavity as if the cave was alive and breathing. All he could see was darkness waiting within the enigmatic cave, darkness which paralyzed him with fear.
"Can we at least...have some light?" Ren felt his teeth chatter as he stood at the entrance.
Tristan looked at him for a moment before letting out an annoyed huff, stepping a few feet into the cave before snapping his fingers.
"Licht Minor," He spoke the incantation quietly.
Following his words, a small orb composed of white energy hovered above his hand, illuminating just enough space so that they could see their immediate surroundings. It seemed to be light magic, contrasting the man's gloomy appearance.
--Meinhard...didn't he say light was one of the rarest affinities? I sensed dark magic from Tristan before...does he have both? Just what kind of guy is he? Ren watched the ball of light like a moth to the flame.
"Hurry up, would you?" Tristan called back to Ren.
"Right--!" Ren nodded his head and stuck close to the man.
The air was damp and musty inside the light-absent cave, the scent of smoke was somehow diminished as the smell of wet stone entered his nose. Water dripping at a rhythm against the stone, the distant cackling of flames, and the pair's cautious yet brazen footsteps were the only sounds to be heard.
He no longer dared to speak, as he feared even the sounds of his short breaths would alert whatever was lurking within these caverns. All he could do was match Tristan's pace, sticking close behind him like a frightened child to their parent, as he served as the boundary between light and dark.
Another step taken--they both paused as they stepped into a puddle of warm liquid. Looking down, Ren nearly let out a yell before Tristan swiftly covered his mouth. They had stepped into a pool of crimson liquid, now noticing that the gray walls of the stone cave were now dyed red with the same essence.
"If I move my hand, you'll stay quiet, alright?" Tristan whispered into his ear.
He nodded his head as his eyes trembled at the sight of the pools of blood that surrounded them now. The sight of such obscene scenery dyed in the liquid of life brought upon memories he seldom wanted to remember. It was the same as the manor on that day--a sight he tried his best to burn from his memory. Tristan slowly moved his hand away from Ren's mouth, regaining his breath.
It was hard to tell just how vast the space was within the cave, he was sure that they were traversing an almost narrow corridor previously but now it seemed to be an expansive cavern, filled with little nooks.
--This is it. I'm going to die, aren't I? Ren trembled, gripping onto the sleeve of Tristan's coat.
The man didn't object to it, trying to act as if he didn't notice the boy desperately keeping close to him out of primal fear. An acrid smell now hung in the air--the smell of death, like a slaughterhouse. Tristan looked down as his foot nudged against something solid yet squishy, his eyes meeting with the sight of a human body so mutilated it was barely unrecognizable as human, almost a blob of red chunks strewn across the damp ground.
"Keep your eyes up--keep them on my back if you have to," Tristan whispered.
It was a sight that would burn the memory of whoever looked upon it. Due to his high aptitude for dark magic, the man was well-accustomed to seeing in the absence of light as if it was normal. Beyond the light he provided for Ren, he could see what the cave bore.
The cave was vast, littered with blood and guts from unknown origins. Soon--footsteps became audible from around them, echoing off of the cold stone. He quickly whisked away the light spell to keep their existence hidden.
--Those footsteps held no sense of urgency. They weren't heading this direction either--I don't think they saw us. Tristan thought to himself.
Ren was left in total darkness, unable to see even an inch in front of his own eyes as he clung onto Tristan's coat as if his life depended on it. The man knew this situation was a ticking time bomb for Ren--deprived of sight and filled with fear, but as much as he wanted to try and reassure him, any noise would make itself heard far and wide in this echo chamber.
The footsteps became more frequent and soon, closer. Ren felt his own sanity waning as he was forced to stand in total darkness, listening to the steps draw near helplessly.
"Screw this--time to let loose," Tristan snapped his fingers.
The light spell returned, bigger and brighter--illuminating the entire cavern that they stood in. They were surrounded by a group of goblins, who were wincing at the sudden burst of light. Each of the creatures was no taller than an elementary student, with skin as green as grass and yellow irises honed on their targets. They wielded poorly crafted weapons--short swords, daggers, wooden clubs, some of which didn't seem to even fit their body.
Tristan summoned his abyssal magnum into his hand, aiming it towards the center goblin, still stunned by the flashing light.
With a pull of the trigger, the gun roared out--releasing a powerful shot that reverberated through the cave, causing Ren's ears to ring. As he looked up with his hands over his ears, the goblin that once stood was now nothing but red mist hanging in the air.
"Sorry about that, didn't have any time to warn you," Tristan apologized to Ren without turning.
"Nevermind that--there are more coming!" Ren shouted, hardly hearing his own voice through the constant chime in his eardrums.
The gunshot seemed almost like a rallying call--summoning in a plethora of the green creatures of malice. Now that the cavern was illuminated, he could see all of the small entrances that made the cave more like a labyrinth. As powerful as he believed Tristan to be--the numbers are daunting.
Tristan continued to pull the trigger without hesitation, blowing the creatures away individually--never missing the mark. However, as one fell, it seemed two more arrived.
"We...we should just make a run for it!" Ren pleaded.
All he could do was stand there and watch as the man fought the incoming horde, struggling to even stand as his legs gave in to the encroaching fear.
"If that's what you want to do, then fine," Tristan stated, sliding the cylinder of the magnum out before reloading the gun with bullets formed out of thin air.
"Really--"
"That is--if you want to live your life as someone privy to the actions of others. If you want to live day to day with the fear that if something decides it wants you dead, you're helpless to that choice--then run. I won't stop you. However--if you want to stand against that current spiraling you in, then fight," Tristan continued to blast the goblins away without flinching.
"But...I can't fight. I'm weak. It's like you said...I'm helpless to that choice," Ren lifted his hands, watching as they trembled uncontrollably.
"It's your choice to be helpless. It's by your own negligence for your own life, thinking that running away would somehow lead to a longer life, only to mold yourself into someone unable to stand up to adversity. It's also your choice to stand up and fight. You're the only one who can make that choice--not me or these goblins," Tristan glanced back at him.
"I…"
"If you want to live another day, then run. If you want to live a long life, then fight. Make the choice, Ren. Use that blade of yours and sever the thread that ties you to the flow--forge your own destiny, right here, right now."
Those words pierced him, resonating within him as if words from the gospel. "The Flow", it was something he was quite familiar with throughout his life. It was a concept that entrapped those like him--those who led mundane lives, devoid of purpose. He constantly let his actions be dictated by the influence of others, doing everything he could to remain "normal" in a mundane world.
He unsheathed his sword, gripping the handle tightly--his forearm doesn't hurt anymore, he noticed. The goblins grew closer with each wave, battling with sheer numbers over Tristan's limited chambers. There was little time to make a choice, if he was going to run, he had to do it now--if he was going to fight, he had to do it now.
--These things are nothing compared to that wolf--I can do this. I can.
"Uh, you've got this from here right?" Ren smiled nervously as he slowly backed away from the cave entrance, "Ah, my back hurts!"
Going inside that foreboding cave was the last thing he wanted to do. It set off every flag for him that screamed of imminent death. The darkness, the likelihood of devilish green monsters, the concerning silence--he wanted none of it.
"Get your ass over here," Tristan sighed, grabbing Ren by the back of his armor.
"Seriously...I don't think I'm up for this…" Ren tried to find a way out of this.
"Man, you're a pain in the ass, but I guess half of that is my fault. What I told you about goblins is true, but it was mostly meant for you to not underestimate them--and now it seems I've done the opposite. Goblins are scavengers, not builders. They adapt off of what humans leave for them. This forest doesn't even have any human settlements, only the occasional rookie adventurers passing through--so these goblins are as basic as they come, Ren. Even someone like you could handle the little freaks," Tristan sighed, ruffling his own hair.
A gust of wind howled from the stone cavity as if the cave was alive and breathing. All he could see was darkness waiting within the enigmatic cave, darkness which paralyzed him with fear.
"Can we at least...have some light?" Ren felt his teeth chatter as he stood at the entrance.
Tristan looked at him for a moment before letting out an annoyed huff, stepping a few feet into the cave before snapping his fingers.
"Licht Minor," He spoke the incantation quietly.
Following his words, a small orb composed of white energy hovered above his hand, illuminating just enough space so that they could see their immediate surroundings. It seemed to be light magic, contrasting the man's gloomy appearance.
--Meinhard...didn't he say light was one of the rarest affinities? I sensed dark magic from Tristan before...does he have both? Just what kind of guy is he? Ren watched the ball of light like a moth to the flame.
"Hurry up, would you?" Tristan called back to Ren.
"Right--!" Ren nodded his head and stuck close to the man.
The air was damp and musty inside the light-absent cave, the scent of smoke was somehow diminished as the smell of wet stone entered his nose. Water dripping at a rhythm against the stone, the distant cackling of flames, and the pair's cautious yet brazen footsteps were the only sounds to be heard.
He no longer dared to speak, as he feared even the sounds of his short breaths would alert whatever was lurking within these caverns. All he could do was match Tristan's pace, sticking close behind him like a frightened child to their parent, as he served as the boundary between light and dark.
Another step taken--they both paused as they stepped into a puddle of warm liquid. Looking down, Ren nearly let out a yell before Tristan swiftly covered his mouth. They had stepped into a pool of crimson liquid, now noticing that the gray walls of the stone cave were now dyed red with the same essence.
"If I move my hand, you'll stay quiet, alright?" Tristan whispered into his ear.
He nodded his head as his eyes trembled at the sight of the pools of blood that surrounded them now. The sight of such obscene scenery dyed in the liquid of life brought upon memories he seldom wanted to remember. It was the same as the manor on that day--a sight he tried his best to burn from his memory. Tristan slowly moved his hand away from Ren's mouth, regaining his breath.
It was hard to tell just how vast the space was within the cave, he was sure that they were traversing an almost narrow corridor previously but now it seemed to be an expansive cavern, filled with little nooks.
--This is it. I'm going to die, aren't I? Ren trembled, gripping onto the sleeve of Tristan's coat.
The man didn't object to it, trying to act as if he didn't notice the boy desperately keeping close to him out of primal fear. An acrid smell now hung in the air--the smell of death, like a slaughterhouse. Tristan looked down as his foot nudged against something solid yet squishy, his eyes meeting with the sight of a human body so mutilated it was barely unrecognizable as human, almost a blob of red chunks strewn across the damp ground.
"Keep your eyes up--keep them on my back if you have to," Tristan whispered.
It was a sight that would burn the memory of whoever looked upon it. Due to his high aptitude for dark magic, the man was well-accustomed to seeing in the absence of light as if it was normal. Beyond the light he provided for Ren, he could see what the cave bore.
The cave was vast, littered with blood and guts from unknown origins. Soon--footsteps became audible from around them, echoing off of the cold stone. He quickly whisked away the light spell to keep their existence hidden.
--Those footsteps held no sense of urgency. They weren't heading this direction either--I don't think they saw us. Tristan thought to himself.
Ren was left in total darkness, unable to see even an inch in front of his own eyes as he clung onto Tristan's coat as if his life depended on it. The man knew this situation was a ticking time bomb for Ren--deprived of sight and filled with fear, but as much as he wanted to try and reassure him, any noise would make itself heard far and wide in this echo chamber.
The footsteps became more frequent and soon, closer. Ren felt his own sanity waning as he was forced to stand in total darkness, listening to the steps draw near helplessly.
"Screw this--time to let loose," Tristan snapped his fingers.
The light spell returned, bigger and brighter--illuminating the entire cavern that they stood in. They were surrounded by a group of goblins, who were wincing at the sudden burst of light. Each of the creatures was no taller than an elementary student, with skin as green as grass and yellow irises honed on their targets. They wielded poorly crafted weapons--short swords, daggers, wooden clubs, some of which didn't seem to even fit their body.
Tristan summoned his abyssal magnum into his hand, aiming it towards the center goblin, still stunned by the flashing light.
With a pull of the trigger, the gun roared out--releasing a powerful shot that reverberated through the cave, causing Ren's ears to ring. As he looked up with his hands over his ears, the goblin that once stood was now nothing but red mist hanging in the air.
"Sorry about that, didn't have any time to warn you," Tristan apologized to Ren without turning.
"Nevermind that--there are more coming!" Ren shouted, hardly hearing his own voice through the constant chime in his eardrums.
The gunshot seemed almost like a rallying call--summoning in a plethora of the green creatures of malice. Now that the cavern was illuminated, he could see all of the small entrances that made the cave more like a labyrinth. As powerful as he believed Tristan to be--the numbers are daunting.
Tristan continued to pull the trigger without hesitation, blowing the creatures away individually--never missing the mark. However, as one fell, it seemed two more arrived.
"We...we should just make a run for it!" Ren pleaded.
All he could do was stand there and watch as the man fought the incoming horde, struggling to even stand as his legs gave in to the encroaching fear.
"If that's what you want to do, then fine," Tristan stated, sliding the cylinder of the magnum out before reloading the gun with bullets formed out of thin air.
"Really--"
"That is--if you want to live your life as someone privy to the actions of others. If you want to live day to day with the fear that if something decides it wants you dead, you're helpless to that choice--then run. I won't stop you. However--if you want to stand against that current spiraling you in, then fight," Tristan continued to blast the goblins away without flinching.
"But...I can't fight. I'm weak. It's like you said...I'm helpless to that choice," Ren lifted his hands, watching as they trembled uncontrollably.
"It's your choice to be helpless. It's by your own negligence for your own life, thinking that running away would somehow lead to a longer life, only to mold yourself into someone unable to stand up to adversity. It's also your choice to stand up and fight. You're the only one who can make that choice--not me or these goblins," Tristan glanced back at him.
"I…"
"If you want to live another day, then run. If you want to live a long life, then fight. Make the choice, Ren. Use that blade of yours and sever the thread that ties you to the flow--forge your own destiny, right here, right now."
Those words pierced him, resonating within him as if words from the gospel. "The Flow", it was something he was quite familiar with throughout his life. It was a concept that entrapped those like him--those who led mundane lives, devoid of purpose. He constantly let his actions be dictated by the influence of others, doing everything he could to remain "normal" in a mundane world.
He unsheathed his sword, gripping the handle tightly--his forearm doesn't hurt anymore, he noticed. The goblins grew closer with each wave, battling with sheer numbers over Tristan's limited chambers. There was little time to make a choice, if he was going to run, he had to do it now--if he was going to fight, he had to do it now.
--These things are nothing compared to that wolf--I can do this. I can.
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