Chapter 44: Listless

The forest loomed around me, its dense canopy casting eerie shadows that danced in the dim moonlight. My head throbbed relentlessly, a painful reminder of the ordeal I'd just endured. I struggled to piece together the fragments of my memory, trying to make sense of the chaos that had brought me to this desolate place, as my eyes slowly flickered open.

Cliff had arrived just in the nick of time. We'd clawed our way back to the surface, leaving the underground labyrinth behind, but the horrors I'd witnessed lingered, etched like scars on my soul.

At some point I had passed out.

My eyes felt heavy, I felt the last visages of my stamina burn like fodder from just maintaining minimum consciousness. It was a bizarre feeling. Every ounce of energy had been drained from me, leaving my body numb and unresponsive.

As I laid there, the weight of exhaustion pressed against me like a leaden blanket. My eyelids drooped, threatening to fall close once more, but I fought to stay awake for just a little longer.

As I slowly spread my faltering consciousness throughout my limp body, it was heavy, a strange weight pressing down on me. I struggled to shift my head and noticed the single piece of blanket laid across me.

It was a simple piece of cloth but felt like the weight of a massive boulder against my body.

It was a bizarre sensation, my body was entirely drained of all energy. Maintaining consciousness was a struggle. My head continued to throbb, the pain like a muffle sound in the back of my mind.

I struggled to focus a thought. My mind was slow and murky, forcing my thoughts and sense of awareness into a stagnant and muddy mess. The numbing sense of pain from my whole body served as my only insight to being alive.

My thoughts were a haze, my vision even more blurry. It shook and flickered, threatening to dissipate like a fog.

As I slowly spread my my sense into my surroundings, it was then I noticed the flaming hearth by my side. The fire cast a warm orange glow against my face, the tongues of flame flickered and licked against the air, forming an intricate pattern. The dancing flames crushed and burnt their fodder to ash, the cracking of burning twigs filled the otherwise serene ambiance.

"You're awake." The voice broke through my disoriented 

And there, on the other side of the fire, was Cliff. He offered a smile, but I could sense that it was a veneer, a facade to conceal something deeper. There was an unease lurking beneath his brown eyes, visible in the way they mirrored the somber dance of the flames. Cliff was trying to hide his worry.

"I was sure you'd be out for a couple more hours until we got back."

"You've really been through a lot, huh," he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. His fingers tightened around each other, and I glimpsed a restrained storm of emotions swirling in his gaze. The Cliff I remembered from the chapel, the one whose sheer presence had compelled me to awaken, resurfaced in my memory. I wanted to ask him about that, but the motivation and strength to do so eluded me. My body and mind remained unresponsive.

So I just lay there, my bleak eyes locked with his, holding it in a gaze, and the ensuing silence grew increasingly uncomfortable.

It occurred to me that this was the first time Cliff and I had been left alone together like this. Despite living under the same roof as a family for some time, we'd never engaged in a one-on-one conversation. It felt especially strange to me—this man was now my father, even though he was only a few years younger than I had been on Earth. Five years had passed, but the strangeness lingered in every aspect of my new life.

As these thoughts drifted like a gentle draft through my mind, I noticed Cliff's face contort uncomfortably. 

"E-ehem," he cleared his throat. "You passed out as soon as we left that strange cave. I thought it was just exhaustion, the weight of the whole day finally catching up to you. So, I decided to let you rest and set up a temporary camp for the night."

"But I didn't expect you to wake up so soon. It was the same back at the chapel. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through, but you held out, son." This time, a genuine smile crept onto his lips, his pride in me unmistakable.

The smile on Cliff's face, though it appeared warm and reassuring, pierced through my heart like a jagged spear, a cruel reminder of the one haunting truth I could never escape—I had held on with all my strength, but I couldn't save that innocent little girl.

Cliff silently observed me with a peculiar expression. My frustration must have made it to my face, it seems.

I gathered the strength to speak, the muscles around my throat were tight and sore, my resulting voice hoarse and grating.

"Don...what about Don and the others?" The well being of the kids had always been on my mind.

At that time the tunnel collapsed, as the tunnel crumbled around us, I found myself locked in a silent exchange of glances with the others, an unspoken connection forged in the face of impending disaster. The cataclysmic collapse unleashed a symphony of quaking earth and thunderous chaos, a visceral manifestation of our vulnerability. In the aftermath, I clung to the memory of my harrowing descent, haunted by the chilling specter of what might have befallen them had fate dealt a different hand.

Cliff's response hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. He hesitated for a few lingering moments, his eyes lost in thought.

"There were no signs or traces of them when I scoured the labyrinth. And trust me when I say I did," Cliff finally admitted. As I leaned in, absorbing his words, I could feel an unsettling lump forming at the back of my throat, my heart growing heavier with each passing second.

"Oh," I managed to mutter, my voice barely a whisper.

"But," Cliff continued, trying to inject a note of optimism into the tense atmosphere, "that could also mean they managed to get out."

Desperation clawed at me, but I clung to his words like a lifeline. "Other than me, the village guards dispatched a search party led by Leon's father, Ridge," Cliff explained, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'm sure Don and the kids made it out safely and are now with Ridge and the rest of the guards."

His words provided a flicker of hope amidst the darkness of uncertainty that enveloped.

A sigh broke from Cliff's lips as he got up and walked over to where I lay, the flickering flames of the hearth casting a gentle glow on his rugged features. His disheveled hair framed his face, and his eyes held a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

"Well," he said, his voice soft and soothing, "You should rest for now and think of it later when we get back. I'm sure Don and the others are safe, and are definitely worrying more about you."

As he spoke, Cliff slowly and gently tucked me in with the same brown cloak he had shown up in earlier. The warmth of the fabric enveloped me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

Cliff paused, his gaze locking onto mine. His dark brown eyes glistened with a somber light as he reached a hand for my face, caressing it gently. From his touch, I could feel his sense of worry, remorse, and relief washing over me like a gentle wave.

"Rest well," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, "It's all finally over now."

His words lingered in the air, soothing and reassuring. I felt my eyelids grow heavy as weariness weighed me down. My thoughts began to slow and drift away.

'It's all over,' I thought, the words echoing in my mind.

Feeling the heavy lids of my eyes fall closed, everything went blank, and before long, I was fast asleep.

As soon as I did, something strange happened...