This is Part 17 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.
The air was damp and oppressive. We continued downwards in silence. Although the way was dark, a slight luminescence was emitted from the rocks, meaning the blackness wasn’t quite so black, but the going was still difficult.
I hated the Otherworld. I didn’t like the Isle that existed on the edge of it, but it was far more amenable than the subterranean kingdom of The Bull.
Finally, the stairs stopped, and we reached a vast cavern. An underground gorge was a better description, the sides linked by The Bridge of Despair. Why it was named thus, I never found the courage to ask.
We crossed the bridge, still without a word being uttered. Perhaps Arastia was mad that I accepted her suggestion of enchanting her, so I might learn the truth – or at least, some of it.
The bridge was long and high up. I was thankful when we reached the other side. But only for a moment.
Something was waiting in the shadows.
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge # 17 | I’m a wee bit over the word count this time round, at 164 words, but I really couldn’t find anything else to trim…