The Cave’s Voice

As he stood before the great stone maw, the Traveller turned back for a final look at the world on the surface. For miles and miles, all he could see were the  great verdant forests, stretching endlessly towards the horizon, enclosed to the east and west by the the treacherous mountains that he had finally overcome. Running through the woods was the winding River Iter, which eventually ended at the Lake of Solace further in the distance, its cerulean waters so clear that it was more of a mirror than a lake. Directly above was the distant namesake of the Sun’s End Valley, blessing the region with its light. Whilst he took in his final breath, the Traveller gazed up at the blazing Sun, hoping that it would be for the final time.

In stark contrast to the natural wonder behind him, the Traveller now stood at the mouth of the Nameless Cave, completely enveloped in darkness, with an ever-present stench of decay in the air. Centuries ago, the tribe that lived beyond the Valley had outlawed any access to the Cave. Supposedly, it had been for everybody’s safety, but there were many alternative rumours about the true intention behind this action. Old Charles in the Village Archive claimed that the Cave was used as a punishment for heretics, and Emmelle the Apothecary had allegedly been told by her friend’s mother’s uncle that something dark and terrible had been discovered within, and the Cave had been sealed off ever since. The only fact that all of these telling could agree on was that anyone who descended into the depths never returned. That was all the Traveller needed to know. That was all that mattered to him now.

He pulled out a torch he had prepared on his trek through the forest and lit it by striking his knife against the stone. Suddenly illuminated by flame, the darkness of the Cave receded, revealing the grey stone interior of the mountain’s mouth. And so, he stepped forward, descending into the Nameless Cave and eternally forsaking the true light of the Sun in favour of his lone torch’s fleeting flame. 

The tunnels twisted and curved unnaturally as the Traveller made his way downwards. After what seemed like 10 minutes, but could have been much longer, he had become completely disorientated, and if he wished to leave, he suspected that it would have been a struggle. Fortunately, he had no desire to return to the surface. Left alone with nothing but his own thoughts for company, the Traveller’s mind began to wander, until it finally focused onto one specific memory. It was of his father, telling him a tale of the Cave in order to get him to sleep. According to the story, the Nameless Cave was actually a living being, some ancient demon or long forgotten deity who was wreaking havoc throughout the region, until a mighty hero defeated it and sealed it away within the Mountain of Hope. That was how it got its name. This did not kill the entity though, and legend says that it still slumbers, only waking to feed on bad children who refused to go to sleep. Of course, the last part was a lie, the Traveller was no stranger to staying awake all through the night, and he had never been devoured. But the rest of the story…

Now that he was actually in the Cave, he could understand the belief that it was alive. The way the tunnels twisted and changed directions was reminiscent of veins and arteries, and there seemed to be a rhythm in the walls, not unlike a beating heart. And if these tunnels were the veins, then surely they would lead to… the image made the Traveller shudder, so he pushed it from his mind. Eventually, he noticed that the uneven stone of the tunnel had been replaced with something entirely different whilst he had been recalling his past- icy white marble, lightly coated in frost. The temperature dropped as soon as he noticed the sudden shift in material. It caught him off guard, but what followed was even more unsettling. As he wandered through the frigid passage, a blood curdling screech echoed around the walls. The Traveller stopped in place. A sudden wave of thoughts broke inside of his mind. Why was he doing this? Had he made the right decision to come to the Cave? Should he keep going further into the tunnel, towards the cold? Or should he turn back and return to his empty life? He was so consumed by the choices he could make, that he was completely unable to make any. But then, a voice rang out through the cold,

“Turn back!”

It erupted so suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, that the Traveller obeyed instantly, without thinking or considering the origin of the voice. Turning back the way he had come from, the Traveller began to run, and it seemed as though the shadows within the Cave became darker, gathering around him, circling like a swarm of bats. He knew exactly why he was running, he had to escape from whatever made the screech, and he knew that if he obeyed his instincts he would survive. That instinct… he hadn’t felt it’s influence in a long time, but now it had returned, and when the shadows had gathered around him, they had receded from a smaller tunnel to the left, drawing the Traveller’s attention to it. Without thinking, he threw himself towards it. 

And then he fell.

He fell for what felt like hours, giving him a chance to reflect on what happened, before his obviously impending demise. Following the screech, he has been overwhelmed by complete, dreadful Doubt, an emotion that he was all too used to. But after that… the mysterious voice had filled him with a different feeling, the complete antithesis of that Doubt. He get power. True power. The power of knowing exactly what to do in any situation. With that power, he could have done anything that he wished to. All of that Doubt had been snuffed out, like his torch had when he dropped it on the ice. Before he went down the side path. Before he began to fall. Why had he gone down this path. Normally, he would make sure to take his time and consider any potential outcome to a decision, but after that voice spoke…

He could not say how much further he fell, but he was sure that once he reached the bottom, he was completely unharmed. This should have been good news, he was alive. And yet, he was now stranded in the darkness of the Cave, and the power he had felt coursing through his body was gone. All he could feel now was the soft, moist ground beneath him. That confused him. This was not the stone of the tunnels or the marble of the frozen area. This was something different. Perhaps this and the marble were simply a trick of the light, or a consequence of that dreadful screech. Now though, there was not light and no tricks. As he lay there, crushed by the Cave’s darkness, he heard it again. The voice. 
“Get up!” It commanded, and the Traveller obeyed, he knew he had to. That power had returned to him. The voice spoke again,
“You have questions. Questions about me. I will be glad to answer them.”
Before the Traveller said anything, he considered what he should ask. Who are you? Are you trapped, just as I am? Will you be- no he shouldn’t ask that. That would lead to too many questions. As it turned out, he didn’t even get a chance to ask anything.
“I know what you ask. The same as the other I imagine. Very well. I am the thing that you ants most fear. Something I see you are well-acquainted with. I have remained here for aeons, undisturbed by your petty squabbles. And yet, you stand here, in my domain, and deign to even think about questioning me!” 

There was venom in that voice, a deep and primal rage that the Traveller had heard only once before. But the voice continued, 
“Your king, you pathetic, isolated ants, you say a lot about me. You call me a demon. A beast. Something that should be kept away from all else. Out of view. That is what you ants do to those things that threaten you. You hide them. But not you, it seems, you came here. You sought me out. Despite all you have no doubt heard from those who fear me, you have come to find me. But why, I wonder? What could drive an ant to search for a stone that could crush it in an instant. Perhaps you are too mad to know what the stone will do to you? Perhaps you wish to be crushed? Or… perhaps you desire something else? Ah, I know. I know why you have come here. I know what you are.”
The Traveller remained silent. This voice… it knew things it has no way of knowing. Could there be a chance that it truly understood why he had come? No. That was impossible. Even he did not know that. 

Without even realising it, the Traveller had been walking. He had been navigating the enigmatic tunnels, as whenever he walked, the shadows moved towards him, clearing his vision. He could see what was around him now, these tunnels were all coated in a deep green moss, though he was not sure how he could tell its colour. The moss seemed to whisper to him. It was unintelligible, but somehow, it soothed him. The tiny words coming from the moss helped him forward, and it seemed as though the moss itself moved his feet forward. But that was not what helped him to truly explore the Cave. It was the Voice. It had to be. All the time the Voice had been talking to him, the Traveller has been imbued with that strange power, the darkness embracing him, holding him. That power. The power of Certainty. That was all he could think of to call it. That was what it felt like. Certainty. And he was certain that if he just kept going, he would end up where he was supposed to be. Wherever that was. 

The Sun and Moon had now power in this realm, so the Traveller had no way of knowing what time it was, or how long he had been in the Cave for. The Voice clearly seemed his question, and answer it before he could ask,
“What you ants called ‘Time’ is simply and illusion. It is a lie. There are some beings, like you, who are slaves to the lie. You centre your entire existence in the movements of Sun and Moon, but you do not even know what they are, or why they move. But I know. Me and… me and my kin are not puppets of your celestial bodies. I have seen into the Crucible of your existence, we have persisted against the movement of the spheres. That is why I shall remain forever, and you will fall. You believe the lie, I do not.”

The Traveller had even more questions now, but he did not dare to even think them. Something about the way the Voice spoke was deeply unsettling to him. But somehow… familiar as well. And that Certainty that it granted him… Whilst he had had no true motive for entering the Cave aside form ‘never leave’, the Traveller felt that the deeper down he went, the closer he would get to a destination- the source of the Voice. The source of Certainty. Perhaps that was what he had been seeking all his life. Before, he had always been paralysed by even the smallest of choices, always considering what could or could not happen. The Voice gave him respite from that. But it also gave him something else. Something that he had been missing ever since he left…

As he wandered, guided by the Voice’s Certainty and the moss-coated walls of the tunnels around him, he noticed something. In the distance, for the first time since the fall, he saw something other than darkness. A bright yellow shimmer was coming from the end of this Coated Tunnel, and instinctively, he ran to it. When he did, the Voice returned,
“You must know something of the place you approach. It is a location over which I hold no power. When you enter, you will no longer hear me, and you will no longer have access to my Gift. But you will be far safer than elsewhere in this domain. So, I ask, do you seek Comfort, or do you seek my Gift?”
Once the Traveller arrived at the source of the light, he was completely mesmerised. Before him was a cavern decorated in enormous yellow crystals, with a natural ramp formed of the moss leading out of the Coated Tunnel. He took some time to take in the beauty of the cavern and its light. This was what he wanted. This was peace. This was Comfort. This was…

Isolation.

He remained in the cavern, though he could not be sure for how long. The light of the crystals washed over him, and he felt safe. That was what these crystals offered him. Comfort. Still though, he could feel something else within him. The Certainty of the Voice, it’s darkness forming shadows that writhed at his feet, still persisted, despite what he had been told. That didn’t make sense. Unless… perhaps the Gift that the Voice spoke of was not the power of Certainty. Maybe it was something… deeper. Whilst he was considering the possibilities before him, he was oblivious to the way the crystals were beginning to shift- losing their colour. By the time he looked up, they had lost all light and were left grey and empty, merely reflecting the colour of the unfeeling stone walls. Now, they imbued him with a feeling he was all too familiar with. The Traveller knew that he could not remain here he needed the Voice. He needed… another.

A tunnel led out from the cavern, and when the Traveller stepped into it, he turned back to see the crystals once again. The yellow light had returned to them, luring him back in. They almost managed to tempt him to return, but he resisted once the Voice spoke to him,
“So you have forsaken the Comfort offered by the Cavern of Anima? Of course you have. They always do. Though, I must admit that you left much faster than any of your predecessors. Yet still you returned to me. Continue then, become one with my domain. I am curious and bout how further you will go.”
The Traveller felt certain that he should keep going, so he pressed on. Back into the darkness.

Warmth was beginning to spread throughout the tunnels. That was how the Traveller knew he had gotten deeper than he expected to. The walls soon became illuminated by the orange blood of the Cave, which flowed though them and emanated heat. The tunnel itself was now black, charred to ash, which also hung in the air alongside the heat. This warm, dark tunnel drove him forward. At this point, the Traveller was unsure whether he was still blessed by Certainty, or whether he was simply motivated by the hum of the scorching walls all around him. This portion of the Cave felt much more alive than everything before, aside from maybe the Coated Tunnel and it’s living moss. It felt like he was getting close to the source now. 

The Voice made sure to comment on this Ashen Passage, 
“Fire is truly incredible to ants, isn’t it? You would have been trapped without it, of course. When you had it bestowed upon you, I understand why you became possessed by it. Otherwise, you would have been stuck in stasis. Completely frozen.”
That last word terrified the Traveller, so he made sure to cling to the warmth of this tunnel, descending further in it, surely approaching the blaze. 

The Passage gradually grew wider and taller as he crossed the onyx black floor. Was there even any stone beneath his feet anymore, or was he simply walking on ash? Flames seemed to dance across his vision, inviting him deeper into the scorching heart of the Nameless Cave. As the tunnel expanded, so did the fire in his eyes. He could see more than ever before, including the beat of the Cave that still rhythmically droned, louder than it had been before. Embers swirled at his feet, helping him move onward, towards the destination he had never known he was trying to reach. The Traveller felt more and more confident with every step he took. Was he even walking anymore? It was he carried by the flames? The song of the Ashen Passage was made up of the bubbling of orange blood in the walls and the soft cracks of flame just out of reach. At least for now. He was almost there. Almost at the fire. And just beyond that- the source of the Voice.

Finally, he reached it. The enormous chamber that the Passage ran into. It was coated in the darkness that enveloped him whenever he was blessed by Certainty, to the point that he was unable to tell whether it was formed of stone, ash of something else entirely. Once he reached the centre of the chamber, the echoing boom of the Voice once again returned to his ears, 
“The Heart of the Mountain. If you were to ask your kind, they would say this was the birthplace of all life. Foolish. Only one being has ever been born of flame, and it was most certainly not an ant. Tell me, do you believe what your kind say? About this place? About me? Surely, after all you have seen, you could not believe in those old tales? You have seen true life. And I believe that you deserve something for making it this far. A reward of sorts. This is the point at which most ants die, give up or lose themselves. But I can tell that you will not. You are truly an enigma, even to me. For that reason, I will tell you of this place. Before the end.”

The Traveller was conflicted. Part of him wondered what the Voice meant by ‘the end’, another was unsure why the Voice thought him any different from the others, and yet another, the greatest part, wanted to know the truth. Clearly, the Voice could tell, as it broke the silence of the Heart bottle after the Traveller’s thoughts, 
“The place that you stand in now is the culmination of the rest of my domain, as well as the many other forces that have made their home here. Look around, see what you recognise.”
Sure enough, when the Traveller looked around the enormous chamber, he was hundreds of tunnels running into it. There were several ashen tunnels, like the one he had come through, and even more plain stone ones. Scattered around were entrances coated in shifting moss or colour-changing crystals, and above him were a cluster of passages which went directly downwards into the chamber. 

But the largest tunnel, which looked as though it had been torn open rather than formed naturally, was directly parallel with the chamber, before turning into a gradual incline that looked like it could potentially reach all the way to the surface. However, none of that drew the Traveller’s attention like it’s colour did. White. Icy marble. Coming from within was a chill that he was all too familiar with,
“You know it don’t you? That part of my domain. It was where I first made myself known to you. Normally, I prefer to conceal myself until I am certain an ant could persist until they reach the Heart. You though… somehow you entered the Nest of the Rime. The only ways to get in there are through this entrance, or one place on the surface. But you found another way in. That was when I knew you were different. Unlike the others. Familiar with the cold.”
Upon the final words being spoken, the Traveller noticed that scattered around the Heart were the bones of those who had come before him. Some were newer, with a few still having rotting pieces of skin hanging from them. As for the older remains, they had clearly been there for decades or longer. The one thing that was true for all of them was the frost that coated them almost entirely, preserving them for years. So many people had made it to this point and become victims of the ice. But had that killed them? Had it been the Voice? Themselves? Or was there something else within the Nameless Cave? A true demon, just like the stories.

“Yes.” 
The Voice answered instantly, 
“This domain is not entirely my own anymore, as you have seen, but most of the interloping forces are harmless, so I allow them to remain. But the being that did this… I can do nothing about it. It is greater than any other creature that roams land, sky or sea, aside from… my kin. It has existed in the my domain for millennia, persisting ever since, never changing, never straying too far. It made its way straight for the surface after its birth, bringing the frost with it. Ever since, I have referred to the beast as the Rime. It is fros  incarnate. It is truly antithetical to the site of its birth. This very chamber. Born of fire, embraced by frost.”
The Traveller began to suspect what was coming next. Perhaps he could now see into the Voice’s thoughts as it could do for his. All of other travellers, the prior explorers, had all fallen to the Rime. He knew he was next. This was what his descent had been leading to.
 
Sure enough, it came right after. That screech. It pierced through the Traveller’s skull, emerging from the great frozen maw of the marble tunnel. For a second, all was still. Perfectly frozen. And then the source of the sound burst forth amidst a cloud of icy mist. The Rime was unlike anything he had ever seen on the surface. Most of it’s form was obscured by mist, but some features were still somewhat clear. Numerous eyes, far more than the Traveller could reasonably count, were embedded in what could have been a head, covered in coarse grey fur and lightly coated in ice. Long, tendril-like appendages reached out and gripped the cavern’s walls and floors with great claws carved from ice, longer and sharper than any other feral hound. Where it grasped, the stone was frozen into icy marble. But the main part of the horror that drew his attention was it’s mighty mouth at the end of a blood-stained snout. It was perfectly circular and lined with rows of a million teeth, potentially even more. Again, the Traveller was trapped. The presence of the creature alone left him completely paralysed, unable or unwilling to do anything. What could he even do? Try to run? Try to beg for mercy? Try to fight back? Thousands of options swarmed him, but which should he choose? As the beast closed in, widening it’s maw like a snake unhinging it’s jaw, he began to focus on that final option. And then the Voice echoed the thought back to him.

“Try to fight back.”

That was it. That was what he must do. He was certain. Shadows formed around his knife, extending it’s blade and creating a sword of pure darkness in his hand. He had made his choice, but he still needed to act on it. The Traveller looked back to the Ashen Tunnels, and he felt fire. Pushing him towards the Rime. But it was not his feet that the flames carried. No. This time, his fist, and the blade clasped within it, was ignited by a wildfire stronger than any he had seen before. The moss along the walls of the Coated Tunnels whispered louder than they ever had. And he swung towards the horror. His blazing sword collided with it’s enormous maw…

And then he fell. 

Into the darkness. 

He was unsure if he ever actually landed. There was a point at which he realised he could stand up, but there did not appear to be a floor beneath his feet. All that there was was darkness, all-encompassing in every direction. Before the Voice even spoke, the Traveller knew that his was the source. This was his true destination.
“My domain. This place was where it began. I shaped the tunnels around this space. To you, it is dark. It is nothing. But to me… this place is everything. All I have. And now you are here. A tiny fire ant had found it’s way into my home. What to do? None have made it down here before, did you know that? No, of course not. You knew nothing but peace, like all other ants. That was what I believed when you first entered. If you reached me, as unlikely as it seemed, I would proceed with my goal that I formulated aeons ago. This ‘Nameless Cave’, it draws those who have no voice anymore. Just like you. And since I now exist in voice alone… it was perfect. I could simply attach myself to someone and take control of them through my voice. All I required was one person to enter this place. Then I could finally leave this accursed place! I could be a part of a colony yet again. When you entered this place, all I saw was another chance to gain freedom, just like the rest of them. But then… I realised you were no ordinary ant. You were familiar with the influence of the Rime. How else could you have found a way into it’s domain? And the way in which you accepted my burning blood so naturally, without fear. I could tell that it was a power you were wholly detached from. You did not recognise the consequences that could arise from overconfidence. Now, I have only one thing to ask. Am I correct? Will you confirm that what I believe is true? You have been a victim of the Rime’s curse long before you entered here. You were stepped on, crushed, by the greater creatures of this world. You were torn away from your colony. You are… my kin. Are you not?”

Tears streamed down the Traveller’s face. He opened his mouth, but still he could not speak. His vocal chords had turned to stone when he had been forced out. Grey stone. He tried to use his hands to gesture to the Voice that he understood. He tried to scratch at his throat in an attempt to produce any noise at all. But it was all in vain. The Voice could not see him. At that moment, amidst the unfeeling silence of the dark, the Traveller considered something that had been clinging to the back of his mind since before his first fall. What if the Voice was his own? There never was anyone else. Just as there never had been. He fell to his knees, and lost all hope of seeing another ever again. This was his destination. Stuck in the abyss of the Cave with no one for comfort. No companionship. Nobody to motivate him. He did not even have his own voice to comfort himself anymore. Perhaps he deserved this. After all, he hadentered the Nameless Cave of his own volition. It had been nobody’s fault but his own. Just like back at the village. He did not have to say what he had. She had not deserved that. All of this, just because he couldn’t make a simple choice for once in his life. He did deserve this. He deserved to be cast out, and he deserved to die alone and forgotten in the dark. Grey stone closed in around him, preventing any chance of escape. 

“No.” 

The stone cracked as the Voice spoke,
“You do not deserve this. You may have made mistakes, whatever they were, but you do not deserve this. I, too, have made grave mistakes, and I, too, was content to accept those consequences. But no longer. We will not be defined by the ways we have wronged others in the past. We have learnt. We have grown. Millions of others have been in our position. We are not the only ones. We are not…”

“Alone.” 
The Traveller finished the sentence. His voice had returned. No. No it had not. It wasn’t his voice. It was the Voice that had been speaking to him throughout his descent. The Cave’s Voice. And now it was his Voice. Together, they spoke, and together they shattered the grey prison around them. 

And then they rose.

Through the darkness. 

The Traveller and the Voice found themselves back in the chamber. The Rime had vanished, but the marble tunnel and the icy marks it had left on the walls still lingered. That didn’t matter though, not now that they had each other. If the Traveller ever felt the Rime’s curse freezing him in place, he now had the Voice to guide him and assist with making the right choice. Or, rather, trying to make the right choice. That was all that mattered now. Trying. And at that moment, they had to try and get out of the Cave. 

The Voice helped him to get out. The Cave itself seems to shift to it’s will. They began by entering an Ashen Passage, which fuelled the Traveller with it’s fire as he ran across the black charred floor. Was it the fire that boosted him forward, or was it the encouraging words the Voice was echoing into his mind? Soon, the fire dissipated, and was replaced by the subtle, comforting light of the Cavern of Anima and it’s crystals. But this time, they did not change. They maintained their bright yellow colour as the Traveller manoeuvred over the large crystalline structures that jutted out from the walls. Soon, he had reached the exit, and he still found it a struggle to leave the light. But now he had the Voice with him to provide comfort whenever he would need it. He led the Cavern and returned to the moss-coated tunnels, which continued to whisper to him, only now he could understand what they were saying. They were words of friendship and love, spoken by the living moss, but translated to him by the Voice. As he strolled through the soft green halls of the Coated Tunnels, he began to wonder how the moss could speak, and the Voice promised that it would explain that to him some day.

Upon reaching a dead end, the Traveller looked upwards to see the shaft that he had fallen down whilst fleeing from the Rime. This time, he could see that the walls were also covered in living moss. As he pondered how he would get back up, the Voice told him to look at the moss. Sure enough, when he did, he noticed that the moss seemed to be changing, forming into thousands of tiny green hands, which reached out and gradually pulled him upwards. Once he reached the top, he thanked the moss, and then looked to the grey tunnels around him. The shadows of certainty guided him, courtesy of the Voice, and he expertly navigated the ever-twisted tunnels, which he once thought would be impossible to return from. But now he was returning. He had reached his destination and acquired the one thing he had not known he needed. Now, he just had to return to where it began. 

As they stood before the bright, shining maw, the Traveller and the Voice turned back for a final look at the view of the world below the surface. For the Traveller, this was a new chance at a life he had expected to end when he descended into the Nameless Cave. And for the Voice, this was an opportunity to enter a vast new world that had always been just out of reach for aeons. Before they stepped forth into their new existence, the two beings decided to share their names.

The Traveller and the Voice.
Solus and Valius.

They had each other now. They were no longer alone.