Rex sat cross-legged on the smooth stone floor, the soft glow of bioluminescent vines above casting gentle patterns across the cavern. Around him, a group of small fish children laughed and darted between the shadows, splashing water droplets in every direction. They twirled and spun in circles, shrieking with delight, occasionally weaving around Rex as if he were part of their game. For the first time since the disaster, he felt something like calm. The joy of children, so simple and pure, was infectious.
He glanced at his guide, the beautiful Dumrakar woman whose white gown shimmered faintly under the glowing lights. "So… what do you do here when you're not showing outsiders around?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light and teasing, hoping for some playful answer.
Her gaze, however, turned sharp and piercing. She let out a scoff, tilting her head slightly as though his question had been almost foolish. "Dinner is ready," she said tersely, her voice cool and controlled. With a fluid motion, her gown flowed behind her as she walked away, leaving Rex blinking in mild surprise at the abruptness. The elegance in her frustration was impossible to ignore.
The children, oblivious to Rex's moment of embarrassment, had gathered into a circle beside him. They eagerly dug into the simple meal set before them: farmed fruits and vegetables alongside chunks of hunted monster meat, grilled over small bioluminescent embers. Rex joined them, tasting the smoky, rich flavor of the meat and the fresh, crisp farmed foods. Laughter and chatter surrounded him, a stark contrast to the dark depths he had recently endured.
As the children ate, Rex's attention drifted to faint whispers coming from a nearby hallway. Curiosity prickled at him, and he slowly rose, moving cautiously toward the sound. The murmurs were hushed, deliberate, words chosen carefully. His instincts screamed for him to pause, and just before rounding the corner, he froze.
There, standing in the shadows, were Master Varrun and the chieftain. They spoke in tones low and urgent, yet steady, heavy with concern.
"I'm telling you, trouble is brewing in the valley," Varrun said, his voice tense, the gleam in his silver eyes sharp. "The creatures of the deep are moving in unusual formations. Something is gathering, and it isn't ordinary. A new presence—powerful, organized—is looming over the eastern section."
The chieftain, calm and measured, waved a hand dismissively. "Do not worry, Master. We have survived far worse. The valley tests us constantly, but it is nothing we cannot handle. You overthink."
Varrun clenched his jaw, his fingers brushing the spear at his side. "I have never felt such a shift, not in my years of hunting and training. This is different—"
"Enough," the chieftain said, tone final, and turned, leaving the matter unresolved.
Rex's pulse quickened. He stayed frozen, absorbing every word, every shift in the master's posture. The weight of their conversation pressed down like the very depths themselves.
A soft, amused voice whispered behind him, startling him so sharply that he nearly stumbled. "Listening in, Rex?"
He turned, and there she was—his guide, the beautiful Dumrakar woman, arms crossed, a judgmental smirk tugging at her lips. The hint of playful exasperation in her expression made Rex flush. "I—I didn't hear anything," he stammered, waving his hands uselessly.
Her smirk deepened, and with a soft shake of her head, she walked past him, the folds of her gown flowing like water. "Come on. Dinner won't wait," she said lightly, yet with authority, leading the way back to the circle of children.
Rex hurried after her, heart still racing, the whispers of the deep valley echoing in his mind. Whatever was gathering out there, it was real—and for the first time, he sensed that Dumrakar'uun's peace might not hold forever.