2. Mazituz

TWO

"No, not here," I mutter to myself. "But I was certain it was here."

I maneuver slowly over the rock wall, letting my claws click against the bulges and grooves. The rocks are almost a natural extension of my own body as I move through and among them. My eyes have attuned themselves to the darkness, its embrace comforting me like a close friend.

Many creatures cannot pierce the veil of darkness. They remain unable to see or navigate through it. They burn fires to light their paths, unaware that their lights drown in the damp recesses of the caverns. They don't understand the monsters that thrive in these passages. There are creatures far uglier than me in these stone halls.

As I squint, I almost can't tell where my gray skin separates from the rough stone walls around me or from the darkness that envelops me.

"Something must have shifted my marker."

In my vision, wading tentacles extend from my face as always, moving in harmony with the dull wind that courses through the caverns. I ponder how other creatures survive without them.

For me, they are a manifestation of my deepest thoughts, showing me emotions before they emerge fully formed in my mind. They are a companion, showing me truths I don't want to admit to myself, exposing the secrets I keep hidden in the deepest corners of my consciousness.

I remember an ore deposit that I marked, an indicator of a treasure to retrieve from within the stone.

I could not have lost it.

These caverns have fully revealed themselves to me through solitude and strain alike. Every shifting of the rock sounds in my mind, every falling stalactite and pained scream ringing in my ears. I feel every chasm and every crater as though it were part of me.

Beyond the caverns surrounding me, the ocean pulses rhythmically. Its every movement reverberating. Even here, I feel my connection to the ocean, a home outside of my home. I taste the brine in the air… feel the cool breeze around me.

I've heard of a world beyond even the caverns of the depths and the oceans above me, with a burning, fiery orb that hangs high in the sky. I cannot join that world. I must linger forever in the darkness. Those of my kind who have seen the surface have found it coarse and irritating, if they even survived it.

But to feel warmth – to let heat surround me, guiding me through these lonely passages. That is a feeling I covet.

Placing my claws against the harsh, unworked stone, I allow the caverns to recount their story.

"Tell me," I say. "Who has hidden my treasure from me?"

Feeling the indentations and pores of the solid wall, a story forms in my mind, identifying a small tremor in the passage of the tide. My eyes trace the tremor's force to my undersea environment, my eyes falling upon a small pool several feet away from me.

"But of course," I say aloud before reaching into the pool.

The moisture entrenches my arms, my eyes squinting in the darkness to see the slight shimmer at the pool's basin. I clutch a jagged mineral, pulling out a heft of jewel-embedded rock. It shines faintly violet with slight sparkles of ruby and sky blue.

There may perhaps be hints of ore in this gemmed rock sample. I hold it near my eyes, the dampness of the pool brushing my already moist skin. I see a sliver of silver, confirming my suspicions.

In my momentary focus, I hear the screams and clinks of the elven city above, mixed with applause and the sounds of wheeled carts over rock. Regularly, I try to stifle the noise, concerned for the implications of unrest these utterances imply. A small civilization bathed in blood also exists in the confines of these caverns.

Perhaps if the associations were more positive, I might try to link up with the denizens of this other realm. I could breach the isolation among these cavern walls, finding solace in the company of another being.

I long to find somebody who understands the silence as well as I do… who has had to find companionship between moments of unrest and interaction… whose thoughts, pronounced aloud, bring sanity in a realm of uneasy stillness.

"But no," I lament aloud. "I am not like them."

Their flat-faced, pointy-eared visages reflect terror from my form. To them, I am a strange other being, brewed in the craters of the earth by some malevolent entity. The tentacles I consider my companions are frightening appendages to them, heralding some dark, ambiguous end. I am the nightmare that comes to them in their slumber, visiting them between their victorious shouts or the metal grinding of their chains.

I am not fit to be among them. Not suited to witness their ways. The trajectory of my life has divulged that deep truth to me, and my wildly spiraling tentacles confirm it.

Another faint shimmer reaches my eyes, caught in my peripheral sight, and my eyes befall a milky white orb in the corner of the pool. I set down my stone, placing it securely against the rock wall before retrieving the pearl from the water.

In its perfect blank surface, I see faint echoes of my full reflection. The distorted image that ravages my mind corrects itself as I hold the pearl level against the rock wall, seeing myself as I truly am.

My tall form has long legs and strong arms for swimming. My tentacles both help me cut through the water and find my way when walking through the dark cavern I reside in. They surround my arms, my most efficient means of digging through these heavy rock walls.

The white light of the glowing pearl produces its own natural luminescence, easing my soul. Its shine fills the void, highlighting the emptiness around me.

I am alone in these halls. There are no judgmental stares cast upon my semblance. No screams of terror at the hint of my presence. Here in these caves, it is only me standing alone gripping a pearl and a pretty rock.

I close my eyes, letting the surrounding world leak in, feeling the noises and the roars of the creatures and the objects in the distance comfort me.

A scream unlike any I've heard penetrates my ears. It doesn't ring hollow, and it's not devoid of empathy. It's not hoarse, shallow, or judgmental, and it doesn't carry fear in its echoes.

Instead, in my deluded state, I feel its yearning. It longs to transcend the depths, finding warmth in the cool, dripping caverns. It seeks to discover something more than the cold iron of the cells or the wandering wheels of the commercial mining carts.

I let the comfort wash over my form, bringing sustenance like the quenching tides.

Sighing and retrieving my treasure, I carry a pearl in one hand and a gem-coated ore in the other. My legs carry me over the rough rocks, and the darkness around me lifts, the luminescence of the pearl overshadowed by the shining environment I'm now emerging within.

All around me are treasures.

They bring a light into my life unlike the harsh glow of the sun… something cooler and more restrained.

Along the walls of my cave-like den are pearls that shine not only white, but crystals that glow with every conceivable color, and fungi. Together, they assemble to form a nightscape, a glowing tapestry of lights like what I've heard pave the sky above. Its light forms a guide for me, reminding me always where I've established my home among the dark passages of the caverns.

Around me, I smell the briny currents lurking just outside my home, their waves rushing even more insistently. Where once it was background noise, it becomes a beckoning call, overpowering my senses.

The world beyond me has grown far more violent. I hear the walloping tentacles of undersea monsters and the rickety swaying of ships taken adrift by restless currents. On the lichen shelf, I correct one of my relics which looks out of place, letting its cool shape comfort my yearning claws.

Outside my realm is a tumultuous universe, much less quiet and much more populated. I imagine there are more beings outside my seclusion than there are thalluses of fungi. I open my eyes wide and then begin to squint as the light around the cavern overwhelms me.

The treasures around me all represent temporary connections, retrieved from strangers in passing, or from subterranean creatures like me. None of the bonds were permanent like the walls around me, but they all left me with a physical object to be held, a fragmented piece of history reminding me that my solitude is transient.

I step outside my enclosure, letting the darkness take hold, and I hear the dissonant whispers of the elven city more clearly. I step back within it, and the wandering horrors of the oceans become clearer in my mind.

Within my home, I smell salt and brine, but outside it, I smell blood and iron. Together, they present me with a choice.

Here in the subterranean caverns, I have safety and predictability, but beyond it, the comforts of companionship loom, if only I can overcome my deepest insecurities. The tentacles ever-present in my vision whip wildly, reminding me this isn't a choice and that only in these caverns can I find the assurance of my continued existence.

Letting the darkness envelop me once more, I close my eyes, allowing the world outside to breathe in. I stretch my long legs. My heart beats with the tides and the chains alike, every falling rock and muffled conversation adding to my senses. I can almost form a full picture of the strange world.

My heart fumbles slightly, perceiving the chaotic environment which has for so long been a danger.

I suddenly emit a low growl, and my tentacles still, their erratic fear becoming calm sadness.

I long to feel touch, the warmth of another being reinforcing my existence against the cruel seas of unpredictability. My heart emits a calm melody, unheard by the beasts I've become familiar with.

Would somebody ever hear its rhythm? Will somebody ever breach this perpetual loneliness?