The air from the newly revealed tunnel was colder than the outside, there was an unnatural chill present in the cave, Jonan felt it wrap around his neck like fingers of a ghost, urging both fear and awe.
Kedes handed him a torch, its flame flickering violently in the draft, casting strange shapes on the tunnel walls, behind them, the rest of the colony prepared their lights; they spoke as little as possible as they lined up together with solemn expressions.
Raerin moved to the front, his spear was raised in the air, and he gave a single nod that passed silently down the line like a wave, with a last look at the place, that they all have been born to, and lived for generations, they are now bidding it farewell with some hesitation.
The passage was slanted steeply, rock-hewn and slippery with water; the walls were streaked with radiant minerals. Every step of the natives resonated like drums in a cathedral, producing rhythms that seemed too intentional to be an accident.
