Cyrin flexed his fingers through his gloves, trying to
keep them warm. If they went numb in this cold, he’d have a hard time using
them, and that would be unfortunate when he was holding onto a rope, only
halfway down a drop between two walls of ice, and still over a hundred feet
from the bottom.
The advice on climbs was to never look down, but Cyrin
had never understood the paralyzing vertigo that non-climbers described when
faced with a fall. A rapid and panicked heart was often mentioned too, but
theirs had only ever raced with excitement at the thrill, and so they could glance
below them without a thought of how high up they were as they clambered down.
There was no wind down here, only the bitter chill of
so much ice around him, which detracted slightly from the adventurous mood. At
least Cyrin didn’t have to worry about being blown off. He’d climbed in enough
storms before, and he’d learned the hard way how it felt to crash into the side
of a building because the rope he was holding on to had started swinging like a
pendulum in the wind. After that, they had started checking the forecast before
a job. Despite that experience, he wouldn’t have minded a gust to blow the hair
of his face when he faced downwards.
His heist partner, Mireya, was glancing up in that
same moment and taking the risk of removing a hand from her own rope to wave at
him. With a slight smile of amusement, Cyrin wrapped their legs around the rope
tighter so they could return it safely. Mireya was smaller and lighter than him,
and had more experience climbing, so she’d outpaced him by a couple body
lengths. She grinned widely as she waited for them, a teasing spark gleaming in
her eyes. Cyrin caught up to her in a couple seconds, stopping alongside her
and raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Bet that you can’t go faster,” Mireya said in a
sing-song voice, just like he thought she would.
Cyrin laughed, their breath clouding in the cold air. “Can’t
go faster? I could go at terminal velocity, but not for very long.”
“I don’t like what that would involve, and you’d probably
make a crater in the ice below.” Mireya pointed downwards, leaning dangerously
far back as she did.
“I suppose it would make for a rather cheap funeral if
you didn’t have to bury me elsewhere, but I’d hope that my death would at least
merit a budget.”
“We did pay twenty each in museum admission to the Permafrost’s
Fall,” Mireya pointed out. “They only charged us for the half above, because
that’s where we’re supposed to be, but technically the two tickets were on our heist
budget.”
Cyrin rolled their eyes. “Thank you for pricing my worth
as equal to a pair of sneakers.”
Mireya smirked, shaking her head. “Give or take. So, are
you accepting the dare or not?”
He blew on his hands, trying to warm them up again after
they’d chilled during their short conversation. “I could slide down, somewhat,
but it’s pretty cold and I’d hate to remove a few layers off my gloves just as
I get to the bottom of this freezer.”
“Congratulations, this dare has now upgraded to a
double dare.” Mireya leaned over and nudged his shoulder.
“You owe me a pair of gloves after this.” Cyrin let
out an exaggerated sigh.
He removed his legs from the rope and loosened his grip
slightly, which allowed to him to drop in a part free-fall, part slide as he
sped down towards the bottom of the ice pit. The gloves protected their hands
from what would have been a horrible rope burn, but they could still feel the
heat and friction from their palms moving over the rough surface so rapidly.
Cyrin waited until they were about fifteen feet away from the end before squeezing
tightly to pull the brake on their fall. He jolted to a sudden stop, his arms
aching from the force of it, before quickly clambering down the last of it and
jumping to the ground.
They glanced up when they heard a high-pitched squeal
of excitement to see that Mireya was doing the same, sliding down her rope at a
breakneck speed as her blue hair flew around her gleeful face. She waited even
closer to the last moment before stopping, her rope swaying wildly. She took a graceful
bow, pulling one arm to her chest as she held on with the other— then promptly slipped
on the ice when she climbed down.
“That was a great show, and an even better landing,”
Cyrin said innocently as they helped her up.
Mireya shoved him the moment she was on her feet, nearly
falling over again when he didn’t budge and she only pushed herself backwards. “Shut
up or I’ll make you an ice crater to leave you in.”
He only grinned, which earned him a dirty look that quickly
turned into a matching smile.
Cyrin directed his attention to the space that they’d
landed in, the underground half of the Permafrost’s Fall. They’d both done
their best to learn about it, and at the very least, they had a decent
understanding of all that could be known about it. The fortress and touristic
site they’d paid access to was already a masterpiece with its carvings and
artwork in the stone walls, and Cyrin had spent some time admiring it while
they’d waited for the museum to close at night, but the real treasure was down
here, at the bottom of a frozen drop that almost no one ventured into these
days.
They’d managed to put together a bit of information
about it, from hearing stories, doing their research, and even listening to the
audioguide in the fortress above. It was time to find out if five centuries of
this location being untouched had erased the depth of the knowledge somewhat.
At first glance, Cyrin decided that what they’d heard before
seemed to hold up. The ice walls they had climbed between created a wide
hallway with a slight curve to it, so he presumed it would wrap around to form
a full circle. There were non-electric Flare lights lining the sides, glowing a
blinding white color, so it was nearly as bright as day in a place that had
never seen the sunlight. And just through the inner wall of the circular hallway,
there was a gallery of the greatest magic artifacts in Aphirah, sitting untouched
for centuries.
“There should be a shield door somewhere,” Cyrin said,
starting to walk in the direction they were facing, since which way they took
didn’t matter.
“That’s what everything said,” Mireya said, following just
a step behind. “And there should also be—”
A dark shape slid out of the wall just a few feet
ahead of them, and Cyrin stopped so suddenly that Mireya bumped into them. It
took a few seconds for him to recover from his surprise.
“Like I was saying,” she said, unusually quiet.
“Right,” Cyrin said, keeping their voice as even as
they could. “That would be our Bane.”
The Bane drifted a little closer, having no legs that
he could see. It was shadow-like, a deep smoky gray with wisps that he could look
through if he tried. The Bane stood upright like a human, and he could easily
make out the shape of a torso, arms, a neck and a head, but the resemblance stopped
there. Long claws lined the ends of its fingers instead of nails, and it had
the face and ears of a jackal. Cyrin was expecting to see a hungry expression,
or even a curious one, but it only stared back at them with a neutral mask. Its
mouth opened slightly, revealing sharp teeth and fangs, before it turned and
floated away behind them, leaving them alone.
He let out a small sigh of relief, and Mireya did the
same a moment later.
“So, what we heard is true,” Mireya said, glancing
back at it. “They only attack us when we try to leave, and mind their own
business until then.”
“Right,” Cyrin confirmed. “We’ll have a little while until
we do that—”
The Bane turned around, staring at them with its dark,
soulless eyes.
“I mean, we’re not planning to go anywhere,” Cyrin said
hurriedly.
Mireya nodded frantically. “We’re staying right here.”
The Bane hovered there for a little longer, continuing
to watch the two of them, before the magical Projection turned around again and
continued moving away. They waited until it had gone around the curve before
relaxing again.
“I don’t like those,” Cyrin said.
“Me neither,” Mireya said. “Hopefully we can fight
them off. Do you think you’ve got enough magic for it when the time comes?”
Cyrin took their MagicBox off its spot on their belt and
snapped it open. A pure white ball of magic the size of their fist filled the compartment
inside, sparking and crackling with power. He closed it back up. “If I’m
careful with it.”
“Being careful. Well, that’ll be a challenge for us.”
Cyrin glanced up at the opening they’d climbed through,
far overhead. He smiled to himself. “Why don’t we give it a shot for once?”
you definitely had my interest from how much you actually planned beforehand. You definitely have a larger grasp on your project than I do with mine >.> whoops
that and I love you and your writing so figured I'd come to check it out and give you my first RevMo review 
I loved the characters you've introduced, and you started right in the action as well, which I thought was great.
Points: 39220
Reviews: 227
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