ted the caver

Heather stood at the outside of the blacksmith’s shop, her thoughts a total mess. She had elected to wait outside, letting Janus return the rope they had borrowed. The last thing she wanted to do was to explain to someone what had happened. And she knew that the friendly blacksmith would ask her questions of what she actually did with the rope.

The door creaked open, Janus coming out down the steps.

“Did he take it?”

Janus nodded. He looked a bit somber himself, as if the joy had been wiped from his face. That look alone made Heather’s heart ache, hanging her head as she shuffled along behind him.

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Heather could hear Janus making his way down the hole. She waited pensively, feeling quite alone. How far had Janus gone in? Would he be all right? What was making the glow?

She wished he could’ve taken a lantern with him. Heather didn’t doubt that he had a source of light to go by, but it would’ve put her mind in ease. Her mind was overthinking what could happen or lie in wait.

She paced back and forth a little, listening the best she could. After a moment she looked up back at the hole.

“How are you doing? Are you all right?”

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“What do we do now?” Heather asked softly. The question was mostly to herself.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who wanted to come out here.” Janus’ voice had a bit of scolding in his voice.

Heather’s cheeks flushed. “Just…thinking out loud to myself, I suppose.”

She straightened her posture a bit and went forward, coming to the edge of the well. It had aged, covered with a bit of moss and lichens. The mouth was six feet across, cobblestone cemented together. Heather gripped the mouth, looking over.

The well went down a ways, but she could make out a puddle reflecting light out on the bottom. The walls also seemed to narrow but didn’t match up with the dirt that was barely visible.

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