I was thrown into the darkness with a stale roll of bread. It took me a long time to find where it had landed in the dark, and I devoured almost all of it. With more than a little willpower I was able to set aside some for later, since I didn't know when the next time I'd be fed again was.

My mother. DuVarick knew her. So was she from the Winter lands? Or was it something else? And why did he have such a problem with my existence? And what about me was a trick that King Baeleon would want to kill me for it?

And where were my friends?

I sighed, the thoughts chasing each other around my head and making my headache. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes, rubbing my palms over my sore temples.

I let out a slow breath, the same one I let out when meditating. It was probably so ingrained in my now that I would always do it. Regardless, it tipped me into the habit and I took a deep breath.

Back in my cabin I went. At least in my mind I could see where I was, unlike the darkness that surrounded my physical body. I tilted my head back, and breathed.

One... Two... Three...

I pulled my fraying magic into myself. A few more stray wisps of fire floated around my little cabin and I gathered them up before sitting on the rug in the middle of the room.

One... Two... Three...

Things were still different. Ever since my seal was lifted and my magic flowed everywhere things seemed off. Distorted. New. Even in the cabin in my mind my senses picked up on things I hadn't been able to before. The fire I could feel and touch and move when I was meditating was sharper. Clearer.

Experimentally, I tried to hold it in my hands. With a little concentration, a light flickered to life in my palm. It didn't burn me, and it didn't feel hot, but it felt heavy as though it had a physical presence I could hold and carry around. I couldn't remember if this is what the fire felt like when it was burning on me in the crater, but the sensation was fascinating now that I had time to really pay attention to it.

I played with it in my hands for a while. Still breathing to keep myself meditating in the cabin, but it was so second nature by now that I could start to do other things while I was in the little cabin in my mind. Maybe if I wanted to learn more about myself and my fire, I was going to have to do it on my own.

I willed the fire brighter, which worked a little. I practiced making the flames rise higher and burn low. I tried to get it to float above the ground or off of my hand like Eberon, but I never could manage that trick. Besides that, this was all in my mind and I wasn't able to get this far in the real world yet, but maybe the practice would help.

I was just trying to get the fire to burn higher but narrower like a pillar in my hand, when I heard the clicking. Only here, it was so loud. It was alarming to hear when I was safely in my cabin, and I dropped the flame which sizzled out and I was nearly jarred out of the cabin.

I focused on my calming breaths while the clicking continued. It had never gone on this long.

As I stabilized myself in the cabin and the clicking finally stopped, I dared to peer outside the door. It was still open from the last time I was here and Puko had come to visit somehow, so I was able to silently walk out without any creaking doors to open.

Would the door in my mind cabin creek? I shook off the confusing thought and peered outside.

I was still surrounded by a grassy field. A light breeze fluttered through the air and the sun shone brightly overhead. But in the distance I could feel two specks of... light? Energy? Magic?

The white one was much closer than the other, but it seemed to be crying out in pain. Not with a sound, but with a feeling somehow. But I couldn't quite pinpoint where it was to help it, so I had to turn my attention away.

The other spark was black. It was a smoldering ball of hate and despair, and it was so very far away. But while it should have been a faint feeling from where I stood, I could feel it just as easily as I could the white spark.

The clicking though, it rang through my clearing so clear and loud. But it echoed and I couldn't point out it's precise location, but I definitely had a general location.

I ducked back into the cabin and looked behind the door where I would keep an axe. There wasn't one, but with a little focus, one appeared and I took it with me to investigate.

Back out the door and through the grass I headed where I thought the clicking was coming from.

As I grew close, a yellow presence began to form. It was shapeless, and as it seemed to recognize that I was there, the clicking stopped.

If the white spark was pain, and the black spark was hate, then this formless yellow aura was curiosity.

It came closer, and I took a step back, drawing my axe up.

"S-stay back!"

The yellow presence didn't seem to be able to talk. Instead it sent feelings toward me. First I felt it's amusement. There was no laughter to be heard but I could feel it in the air. Then it wanted me to wake up.

"Wake up?" I asked, knitting my brows together. "I'm already awake."

There it was again. Wake up...

"Be gone from here! I don't know what you want, but I can't wake up if I'm already awake. This is my place, you need to leave!"

It... sighed? And then I was slapped by something. Hard.

My eyes flew open. My real eyes. Blackness surrounded me. My ears and nose couldn't pick up any presence around me. I brought a hand up to the cheek that had been slapped, expecting to feel a sting but it was fine. No sting, no swelling, no sign of being hit at all.

Slowly I got to my feet. The cool air around me did nothing to help the goosebumps forming on my bare arms and stomach, but if I was being honest they mostly came from the eerie experience I just had.

Then I heard it again. The damn clicking.

Not as loud as it was in my head, but it was still there.

Clenching my jaw, I balled my hands into fists and took a step forward. Likely, if I went after this stupid clicking I would never find my way back to the door again without Brute or Asher coming for me, but knowing where the door was would do me no good if I went insane first.

Walking slowly in the dark, I found the ground to be relatively flat. I did have to avoid slipping on loose sand or gravel, but I was otherwise able to walk on my own. I couldn't pinpoint the clicking, but I could follow its general direction.

I kept my steps slow and quiet as I continued toward the clicking. Sometimes it would stop, but it would always resume again eventually. I would wait a few minutes for it to resume as it normally did, but if it looked like it would be a longer wait I would sit down.

During one particularly long wait, I thought about how many steps I had taken. I thought the dark cavern was only a few yards deep, but I had been dreadfully mistaken. Even with only walking a few minutes every so often, I had to have traveled much farther than that in only an hour.

I sat with my knees tucked under my chin, rubbing my palms on my upper arms for warmth. And then, it started again.

Up I went, walking once more to the clicking. My heart pounded the closer I got, and my stomach rumbled. I wish I had brought the rest of the bread, I'd probably never find it again, but it was too late to turn back now and I had little choice but to press on.

It went on like that for hours. It frightened me to think what else might be in such a cavern, but finding out now was better than finding out while I was asleep and defenseless.

My foot hit a pebble. A small act, but in the silent cavern it's noise would alert whatever was ahead of me to my presence. My stomach dropped as the clicking stuttered, interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

Someone was here.

"You can speak up now," a raspy voice called out. "I think you've followed me long enough for the both of us."

The voice was male, and it sounded like it didn't get much use these days. It sounded like Bryn when he would go out drinking and singing the night before and couldn't hardly talk the next day.

When my heart calmed down, I cleared my throat in turn. "Who are you?"

"Hm, telling you wouldn't do much good. Nobody would remember my name anymore. Who are you?"

"That's not very fair, you want to know who I am but you won't tell me who you are first?" I huffed.

After a pause, the voice answered again. "Alright, you got me there. I go by Nassir. Now, who are you?"

Nassir. It wasn't a name I had heard before, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"I'm Wren. What is this place?" I asked.

"You haven't figured it out by now? This place is a pit for lost things. If you are in here, then DuVarick doesn't want anyone to remember you."

Well, that seemed about right.

"So Nassir, is it you making that clicking sound?"

"Yes, it's how I get around without my sight," he said. "I make a noise, like the clicking of my tongue, and I listen for the bounces off the walls."

"Oh." I didn't really get it, but it was a better explanation than nothing. "How big is this place?"

"Depends what you mean by big. It is bigger now than it was when I first got here." Nassir made a shuffling sound, maybe something like sitting down. "So Wren, what did you do to get on his bad side?"

"I don't actually know," I sighed, sitting as well. "How long have you been here?"

"Who knows. Time passes differently when you live this existence of darkness. I'm sure it has at least been several years. A thousand maybe?"

He said it with such a casual grace, but my heart dropped at the implication of it. "A, a thousand years?"

"Mm hm. Perhaps more, perhaps less. I have no way to know for certain."

"So, so what is it you did to be put here?" I asked. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Oh I've committed no crimes. DuVarick is proud of his prison for criminals. You don't get sent to the darkness for crimes, you get sent to be forgotten."

"Oh, right."

"I am here because I am an artist," Nassir answered. "I did some carvings for the city. I don't know if those carvings still stand but when I was done DuVarick went to great means to make sure I could do no more such art for another King. He was determined to keep my masterpieces for himself."

"That's awful!" I said. "So he threw you in here?"

"Hm, among other measures, yes," he said.

"How have you lived this long? Do they feed you? Do you get water?" I asked. My throat had been dry for days. I'm sure as a human I would have died, but whatever sustained the life of something from the Wyldes must be a little stronger than that, and I was still here.

"I find food. There is plenty here if you know where to look. They may think I'm dead for all I know. They haven't come for me in decades, at least," Nassir said. "Would you like to know where the water is?"

"Yes!" I said, a little more eager than I had intended. "I mean, if you don't mind. Sir."

"Ahaha, you're a funny one, Wren. Come, I'll show you the water, the food, and the hole. It will be nice to have company for a time."

"The hole?" I asked.

"Ah, well it might be a hole, or a cave, or a window. Not too sure. More importantly, all this talking has made me thirsty. Follow me."

And so, I did.