Round 223

The cavern's temperature plummeted the moment Merrin stepped away from Seraphine's firelight. The chill bit through her leathers instantly, raising goosebumps across exposed skin. Her breath fogged in the sudden cold as she moved deeper into the gloom, torch held high against encroaching darkness.

The sound of rushing water grew louder with each step, guiding her towards the source. She'd heard it before—the ominous promise of a pit trap or worse lurking just ahead. But Varikka was down there somewhere, and Merrin wasn't about to abandon her friend to whatever waited in those depths.

She rounded the final bend and saw it: a massive underground lake stretching out before her, its surface disturbed by something large moving beneath. Skeletons littered the shores like warnings, bleached white in the strange bioluminescence rising from below. And then she saw them—the eyes. Dozens of them, glowing faintly in the water's edge, watching.

Merrin froze mid-stride, heart hammering. This was beyond what she'd signed up for. Her fingers tightened around the iron bar, knuckles whitening as she calculated her next move. The cold was already seeping into her bones, hypothermia a distinct possibility if she stayed too long in this freezing air.

She took one step back, then another, mind racing. Couldn't stay here—too exposed, too vulnerable. But leaving Varikka meant abandoning her to whatever had made those sounds. The guilt tasted bitter on the back of her tongue, but survival instinct screamed louder.

The water's surface broke again, closer this time. Merrin didn't wait for a third disturbance. She turned and ran back towards Seraphine's light, heavy footsteps echoing off the stone walls in her wake.