“We’re too late.” Mera’s lips pushed together until they blanched.
A hushed pall fell over the room.
From the back, Nordamen choked out, “Thank you for trying, Alora.”
His lips curved in a forced smile, while tears tracked down his cheeks. Likewise, teary-eyed, Graely put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. Even with her shield in place, Alora’s emotions were overwhelmed to the point of crying.
“Wait. I have an idea,” Alora said, wiping her face and sniffing. “If he can still feel pain, I think I can find him. I’m going back in, and I need somebody to poke his feet with a pin or something. Or, it doesn’t have to be pain—you could tickle his feet instead. I just need him to feel something, because that’s the only thing I know how to do.”
“For how long?” asked Markaeus, standing by Bardamen’s feet, looking like someone told him he could eat a whole pan of cinnamon rolls by himself.
“For as long as I’m gone.” Alora gave Kaevin a grin and a stiff kiss before she went back.
There. He’s feeling something. No, it’s gone.
Oh, it’s a tickle... No.
There... again... It’s gone.
Ow! A pinch. That’s better.
It’s gone again.
Wait... Here’s the problem. I feel it. It’s like an open drain in the bottom of the silo. Just a small hole, the size of my finger. That’s why it stays so empty. I just need to plug up this drain.
She floated down to the hole. It had seemed small, but as she probed, the hole grew. Bigger than her finger. Bigger than her hand. It sucked against her like the drain in a bathtub. She twisted in the darkness and laid her body across the hole, finally stopping the flow.
But she was trapped. She couldn’t move.
The feelings began to collect above her. A tickle. A poke. Another poke. More and more.
It didn’t hurt, not really. But the feelings grew heavier and heavier, compressing her lungs.
More feelings. A pinch. A sharp poke.
The pain was moderate, but the weight was overwhelming. Like slow suffocation.
I need to think. I need to stay calm.
She panicked. She screamed.
Kaevin! Kaevin!
She felt nothing. No fear, no pain, no connection with her soulmate whatsoever.
Bardamen! Bardamen!
Nothing. She was dying.
Bardamen! Help me! Please!
How could the feelings be so heavy? Surely she could throw them off. Dig her way out.
Thrashing in the soupy pitch black, she tossed some of the weighty feelings to the side. But something even heavier settled on top of her.
A lifeless body.
Bardamen.