Realising they had squeezed everything they could from the strange chamber, Edward and Elarien turned back the way they came. The cold greeted them instantly—sharp, unfriendly, and eager to cling to their skin as they stepped into the twisting tunnels once more.
They walked. And walked. And kept walking.
After a while, the passage stopped feeling like stone and began to feel like a loop designed to mock them. The wind hissed through unseen cracks, icy enough that Edward's fingers felt stiff even when he curled them into fists. Every turn looked the same. Every shadow made him tense, waiting for something—anything—to leap out and end their misery.
But nothing came. Just endless darkness and that constant, biting cold.
Eventually, after what felt like hours or maybe days—time had lost all meaning in this place—they rounded a corner that looked barely different from any other. But the moment they stepped through it, Edward's body went rigid.
