Lyrth was terrified and did his very best to hide it. After sheathing Vendryck, the temporary joy that had come with a battle faded, and the fear and despair that came with this place doubled. The gigantic humanoid mass of darkness didn’t help much either.
He knew the giant of darkness floating before them had been Harry, but somehow they felt very different. Was this his true form? Or was it another being that Harry was the vessel to? Either way, it was clear that Lyrth and the others were very much at the mercy of these two siblings.
But strangely, he felt the tiniest bit comforted as he peered closer at the dark titan; still, Harry’s apparent signature color remained, crackling through the mass of black, and shining persistently out through the darkness being’s eyes. His friend hadn’t gone completely. At least, he hoped so.
Lyrth nearly jumped out of his skin when a powerful voice began speaking in his mind, "The gate is opened. Frost, step through first. Felix Orestika, you are next. Zolyrth Dustkarn, you may follow. The Icy shield will keep you alive, but jump quickly if you wish to remain that way."
He assumed Frost was Jennifer, because of the whole ice powers thing. But what about Rune? Jennifer soon answered his question, but it struck him as odd that the darkness being hadn’t addressed Rune directly as they did with him and Felix. His wonderings were interrupted by Felix jumping into the now dark, seemingly bottomless entrance.
Lyrth stared apprehensively down into the massive pit. He glanced back at Rune worriedly, wondering if it was a good idea to just leave him collapsed on the ground up here all alone. He resigned himself to sticking with the plan and reluctantly walked out onto the ice bridge. He tightened Vendryck’s sheath, praying it wouldn’t come loose in the fall, and jumped, squeezing his eyes as tight as he could.
Wind buffeted his face as he fell, somehow making him even more cold than before. He fell for so long that he acclimated to the situation, and opened his eyes. Not that it mattered much, since all he could see was pitch black. Suddenly, Lyrth felt himself slowing, as if falling into a million goose-feather pillows, until he came to a complete stop.
He attempted to look around, but his nightvision had not yet adjusted. Lyrth gazed in the direction he assumed was up, deciding to wait for the others before moving around at all.
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