When the Darkness Falls

Sairen, guided by the Senior Mage and the Priest, walked toward the place where the dome had previously been. Since they would soon need to move again, the dome was folded up and the etheric formations were carefully erased, leaving no trace behind. Sairen still did not know exactly what this group of people wanted from him, but he was already preparing to improvise. Under the watchful gaze of a dozen individuals, Mearin led him to the spot where, presumably, the missing person was last seen.

— He was standing here at night. When the next shift came to replace him, he was gone, — said the Senior Mage.

Sairen listened attentively, then, frowning slightly, asked:

— You say it was at night?

— Yes. What's wrong with that? — Mearin replied with surprise.

— We're underground. How did you determine it was night?

The Senior Mage looked at him in puzzlement:

— By the clock, of course.

Sairen thought for a moment, then nodded. He still didn't know how to escape under the scrutiny of so many people, but he was trying at least to buy a little time to think everything through.

— And at approximately what time did your friend disappear?

Mearin frowned:

— Is that really important? I thought you would just find him through clairvoyance.

Sairen, without hesitation, lied:

— I can't waste energy scanning everything randomly, right? I need specific data. For example, an exact time — so I can focus on that exact interval.

The Priest was silent for a moment and then said:

— That… makes sense.

"Excellent, it seems to work. These idiots believe everything I say," thought Sairen. "I'll lead them on a false trail, and when the chance comes — I'll escape."

Mearin paused, then answered:

— Somewhere between two and three in the morning.

Sairen nodded "thoughtfully," putting on a serious expression.

— And what was his name? What did he look like?

Mearin hesitated, but still answered:

— His name is Fenar. A tall man with short hair. He wore a gray cloak and carried a spear.

Sairen paused a little and bent down toward the ground, examining the slab with a serious face. At the same time, he was feverishly devising possible escape routes. He barely "saw" anything, but that wasn't the point.

Suddenly he stood up sharply.

— I see his tracks. He moved in that direction! — he pointed sideways, toward one of the side passages.

Mearin and the Priest exchanged glances, then turned to the others:

— Gather up, we go together!

Sairen was taken aback. At first he wanted to say, "I could bring him to you myself" — and run away at that moment. But realizing that a blatant protest might arouse suspicion, he decided to change tack.

— Wait, there's no need for everyone to gather, — he said quickly.

Mearin frowned:

— We can't split up now. We need to stick together. What, could there be a problem with that?

"Of course! How am I supposed to escape if you all surround me?" — Sairen screamed inside, but outwardly said calmly:

— If there are too many people, the trail will get mixed up.

The Priest shook his head and replied:

— That makes sense.

"Good old man! Help me convince them!" — Sairen mentally praised him.

— Mearin, we can go in a group of three. Let the rest wait here.

The Senior Mage paused, squeezing his lips in displeasure, but did not argue:

— Fine. Then we should hurry before anything happens.

"Damn, what the hell… you two volunteered?!" — Sairen seethed internally. But on the outside he gave no hint of irritation.

— Are you sure? It would be more reliable if you stayed here. Someone else could go with me.

— It's all right, youth. I'm confident my people will be fine, — replied Mearin.

Sairen barely caught himself from grimacing. He looked away slightly, as if in thought, and said calmly:

— Fine. Then we should hurry.

He was about to take a step forward when suddenly his stomach clenched and growled betraying him. No wonder — he hadn't eaten in over a day. Hesitating for a moment, he said:

— But first… might I ask in advance for something to eat as payment for the work?

The Priest raised an eyebrow, rummaged in one of the cloak's pockets, then threw a fairly large paper bundle at Sairen.

— Here, this will settle your hunger for the time being.

Sairen did not hesitate. Unfolding the bundle, he saw a rectangular mass — looking like dirt, dense and dark. But the smell… the smell was unexpectedly sweet. It smelled almost festive.

He sniffed it cautiously, then took a bite. His eyes widened in surprise.

— Hell, it's delicious! What is this?

The Priest smirked:

— Look at you… rejoicing over a bar like a loyal dog.

Sairen didn't take offense. He simply continued chewing. How could he resent someone who gave him such delicious food — especially when he was leading them by the nose?

— Maybe we should go now? — Mearin said irritably.

Sairen nodded, slowly swallowed a small piece, wiped his fingers on his trousers. He rolled the bar into the wrapper and put it in his pocket.

— Now I'm ready.

The group moved toward a narrow passage. The etheric light of the lantern cast long, distorted shadows on the walls, and the uneven path kept changing direction, leading somewhere into the distance. Sairen mentally praised these catacombs for their tangled, winding corridors. It increasingly felt to him that these were not natural labyrinths, but a vast anthill with countless tunnels and chambers.

Several times he changed direction at random, leading his two escorts astray—yet they never fell behind.

Soon he noticed a fork. Thanks to his special vision, he saw it all sharply. Two of the passages led downward, while the third turned to the right.

— The trail ends here. I think we should split up and search the tunnels, — he proposed in a serious tone.

Mearin and the Priest frowned. It seemed they suspected something.

But the Senior Mage still said:

— That's unnecessary. I can check them all at once using a spell.

"What?! No, you mustn't do that!" — Sairen panicked.

— Wait! What if you wipe the trail away? We'll lose the path if you disturb the ether here.

Mearin frowned and coldly replied:

— Are you sure you can figure something out, clairvoyant?

"Christ, has he really suspected something?"

Mearin, gripping his staff, began to cast. Sairen could see the etheric lines in the air merging together, forming a complex formula. As soon as the spell activated, an almost imperceptible layer of ether spread in all directions — like ripples on water. Bouncing off the walls, it continued deeper, penetrating all three passages.

"So that's what the spell was yesterday… Could it be some kind of search formula?" Sairen thought.

Suddenly, Mearin's tightly closed eyes snapped open. He declared in surprise:

— I have found him! Let's go immediately!

— Okay, then… wait, what? — Sairen managed only to blink foolishly, watching the Senior Mage's retreating back.

The Priest with his rifle next to him frowned, looked at Sairen, and said:

— Well now, you do have strong abilities…

For a second, Sairen thought he detected resentment in the Priest's tone—but he paid it no mind.

"What the hell?! Who did he find?! I was just walking at random!"

Under the Priest's intense gaze, Sairen forced a smile.

— Ahem, I will receive payment for my assistance, right?

Since I can't escape, at least I can go along and get paid, then whatever happens next. With these thoughts, Sairen followed Mearin deeper into the passage.

After walking for about five minutes, he saw the Senior Mage freeze in place as he shone the lantern on the path ahead. Following his gaze, Sairen noticed a narrow shaft leading down into a large chamber below.

What lay at the bottom startled him.

In the depths lay many large stones of strange shapes, arranged carefully. Several smaller stones lay close to a larger one. There were countless such clusters, all set in order at equal distances like statues.

On one of these "statues" lay the body of a man, completely motionless.

But as Sairen looked more closely at these formations, he noticed something odd. Each "statue" had a dozen smooth, long sticks. From this angle, the entire composition looked like a giant dead ant… many, many dead ants.

— This is… — Sairen began, his face paling.

— Fire ants. This is a fire ant crypt, — Mearin interjected.

The Priest, who had approached with Sairen, noted:

— Ants are very social creatures; they carry their dead into separate chambers and place them carefully apart from one another. An impressive sight.

Something clicked in Sairen's mind, and he asked:

— Wait! You mean this is a damn huge ant nest, not underground catacombs?! — he asked in disbelief.

Mearin and the Priest both looked back at him in puzzlement.

— Didn't you know? Why do you think ancient labyrinths are called anthills? — asked the Priest.

— How could I have known?! — Sairen muttered.

He had intended to escape through the depths of these catacombs and follow the ether currents to the exit. But now he had to rethink his plan.

"What if I run into one of those things while wandering alone?!"

Mearin, noticing confusion on Sairen's face, asked:

— So you really ended up here by accident?

Looking at him strangely, Sairen replied sarcastically:

— No, damn it. I just decided to take a walk through a massive anthill for fun. I had nothing else to do!

The Priest waited a moment and asked:

— Then how did you end up here?

Sairen irritably recounted everything that had happened to him: how a rebellion had flared in the mines, how the ether threatened to bury them underground. How he escaped into the abandoned passages and wandered until he came across Lance's group. He simply omitted the unnatural nature of his eyes, lying about possessing clairvoyance.

"I didn't start this clairvoyance bullshit—now it's your problem to sort out!"

Deep inside him, resentment still lingered. But partly he concealed the truth out of suspicion toward them.

— So that man wasn't lying to us, then, — Mearin murmured knowingly.

— In any case, we still don't know what happened to Fenar. Can you determine how he ended up here? — he asked Sairen.

Flustered, Sairen glanced at the body below. Upon closer inspection, he saw a thin etheric trail extending from the back of his head. Pausing for a second, he decided to answer with half-truth.

— Someone forced him to come here. But who or what it was — I don't know.

Mearin frowned but still nodded:

— Thank you. Thanks to you, we have found him.

There was restrained sorrow in his voice.

— His death will not be in vain. We will uncover the secrets of this place at all costs.

— That's all well and good... but maybe you could deliver me to the exit first? — Sairen asked.

— First, we must complete our investigation. Don't worry. Even though you're infected, as long as you're useful, I'll help you, — replied Mearin, calling the ether into motion.

Thin lines merged into a pattern in the air, forming a spell. The wind whirled, descending into the pit and lifting Fenar's body into the air.

Sairen watched, entranced, as the spell gently placed the body on the ground before them.

"Damn... his control over ether is sheer madness..."

It was incredible to see how the formulas in the air reconfigured, changing the path of the flight with surgical precision.