Alright, so here I was… standing in front of a door that was way too big for someone barely five-foot-five. Ten feet tall, made of stone, carved with weird symbols that looked like they'd been scratched in by someone bored and insane at the same time.
And of course, me being the genius I am, I thought, Yeah, let's touch the creepy glowing door in a dark cave right after fighting goblins. Nothing bad has ever happened to people who do that, right?
The stone felt cold under my hand, almost like ice, and then… the ground shook. Not a little tremble like an earthquake drill back at school, no, this was the "if you don't start praying right now, you're screwed" kind of shaking. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the carvings on the door lit up, glowing faint green.
"...Well, that's new."
I took a step back, sword in one hand, torch in the other, my heart pounding like a drumline. Then the door started opening on its own. Slowly. Way too slowly.
And what greeted me on the other side wasn't treasure. Nope. Not a princess. Not some friendly old wizard ready to give me cheat skills.
It was… darkness. A hallway that seemed to swallow the torchlight whole.
I stared into it for a solid minute, debating with myself. Do I go in and probably die again, or do I sit here, eat imaginary popcorn, and wait for death to come to me instead?
Spoiler Alert: I walked in like dumbass
Heading inside, the first thing I noticed was the temperature. It wasn't freezing like outside the cave, and it wasn't boiling hot either — it was… weirdly perfect. Warm enough that I didn't have to shiver every two seconds, but cool enough that I wasn't going to sweat buckets. Basically, it was like stepping into a room where the air conditioner and heater finally decided to stop fighting each other. Honestly, kind of a relief, considering I was already tired of shaking like a chihuahua just trying to survive.
But the more I thought about it, the more suspicious it felt. I mean, when does anything in my life just conveniently go right? The answer: never. So the fact that I'd found a place with the "perfect" temperature, the kind that you only get when someone's messing with a thermostat, made alarm bells start ringing in my head. Either I just walked into some kind of monster's living room, or this was one of those "too good to be true" situations where you suddenly regret being alive.
Still, what was I supposed to do? Turn around and go back? Yeah, no thanks. So I kept walking, trying not to think too much about the fact that the air felt comfortable enough to nap in — because if there's anything I've learned so far, it's that comfort usually means danger is waiting right around the corner.
I should probably not be so dramatic all the time and stop overthinking every little thing. If I keep this up, I'll definitely get myself killed one day… oh wait, right. That already happened once. So maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and walk.
So I kept moving forward, step after step, aimlessly wandering through the tunnel. Honestly, it felt like I'd been walking for hours, even though it probably wasn't nearly that long. Time doesn't really make sense down here — no clocks, no sunlight, just me, my torch, and the sound of my footsteps echoing back at me like they're mocking how lost I am.
Eventually, though, I came to a sudden halt. The passage didn't end in a wall like I expected. Instead, it opened up into this massive hole that stretched from the bottom all the way up to what had to be the surface. At least, I think it was the surface — because way up there, way at the very top, I swear I saw light. Real light. Sunlight.
"Bingo," I muttered under my breath, grinning like an idiot. "That must mean I'm close to getting out."
But as I studied the huge hollow, I realized something else. The walls weren't smooth — they were jagged, layered, like the inside of some gigantic well. And up there, near the top, I almost missed it at first… but there it was. A bridge. Suspended across the gap, leading to what looked like a platform aligning with the light.
My stomach dropped. If there's a bridge, that means something built it. And if something built it… then something might be using it.
Hold on. Didn't I just say to stop overthinking? Yeah, well… old habits die hard. Or in my case, die once and come back stronger. Whatever. Point is, I needed to chill, but the thought wouldn't leave me alone. That bridge lined up perfectly with the sunlight above, so maybe — just maybe — that platform could move upward, like some ancient elevator, and bring me back to the surface. Honestly, that idea sounded a little too convenient, but hey, I wasn't about to complain if it worked.
Looking around my area more carefully, I spotted something carved into the stone. And not just random scratches — no, these were the kind of carvings that scream "I'm an ancient relic, please respect my history".
In the center was a woman. She wore a long flowing dress — probably white if I had to guess, though the stone didn't exactly come with color coding. Her hands were lifted, and it looked like she was blowing… wind? Yeah, wind. The lines etched from her lips stretched outward, flowing across both sides of the mural.
On the right side, the people there looked happy. Thriving. Wealthy even. They were standing tall, smiling, their crops and homes carved neatly around them. It was like the wind she breathed out gave them life, prosperity, and everything was sunshine and rainbows.
But the left side… the left was completely different. Behind the woman was something jagged and harsh — a mountain, maybe? And the people there weren't smiling. They were crumpled, hunched over, carved on their knees like they were begging for mercy. Their hands stretched out toward the woman, but unlike the others, they didn't look blessed by her wind. They looked… cursed.
I stepped back, torchlight flickering against the stone, my chest tightening a little.
"…Well. That's not ominous at all."
Turning around, my torchlight flickered against yet another piece of history carved into the stone. This time, though, it wasn't just pictures — it was words.
At first, I thought they were in some kind of ancient language, the kind of thing I'd normally glance at and immediately give up on, but… no. Somehow, I could read it. Like the meaning just slotted into my brain as if I'd studied this stuff my whole life. Creepy? Absolutely. Useful? Also yes.
The first set of words was jagged, almost desperate, like they'd been carved by trembling hands. It read:
"O' our great goddess of wind, hear the cries of those abandoned. Allow us mercy in your eternal storm. Bless us with the breath of your winds, so that our lands may not wither, our children may not starve, and our bones may not crumble into dust. Let us be carried by your powers, lifted from despair, saved from the silence that smothers us."
I shivered a little. That was definitely from the left side of the mural — the ones on their knees. Desperate, begging, clawing for scraps of hope.
Above them, though, was another carving, smoother, elegant, like whoever etched it had all the time and resources in the world. The words there were completely different:
"Praise be to she who walks upon the skies, she who grants the blessed her breath. Praise to our eternal mother, the goddess of winds, whose name dances upon the air itself. Praise to Aurelia, whose gift carries our sails, turns our mills, and fills our lungs with life. She is the breath, she is the storm, she is the endless sky."
I stepped back, torch trembling slightly in my hand. So, her name was Aurelia. A goddess of winds who could bless or abandon, depending on… what, her mood? Their devotion?
"…Yeah, nope. Definitely not ominous at all."
Still… how the hell is any of this supposed to help me get out? Like, thanks for the lore dump, lady, but unless Aurelia herself is about to fly me up to the surface, I don't see how staring at stone carvings fixes my problem. What do you want me to do, oh mighty goddess of winds? Pray? Sing? Sacrifice a goat? Because I'm fresh out of livestock.
And then it happened.
An insanely strong surge of wind blasted through the chamber, faster and heavier than anything I'd ever felt before. It wasn't just air — it was a force, like the cave itself was breathing down on me. The torch I held nearly blew out, my body staggered, and then… I heard it.
A voice.
The very instant it hit me, my head almost exploded. The pain was indescribable, like someone had jammed knives of lightning straight into my skull. My knees buckled, my vision blurred, and for a second I was so sure: this is it, this is how I die again. The sheer weight of her voice was enough to kill a human.
But as sudden as the agony came, it vanished. Gone with the wind that carried it. My body stopped screaming, the cuts I'd gotten earlier were gone, even the ache in my chest from before… gone. I was restored, completely, like nothing had ever touched me.
And then, something strange — my mind held onto her voice. Not like an echo, but as if she herself had allowed me to remember it, word for word.
"Praise and pray, and you shall receive your solution."
That was all. Just that one line.
I exhaled slowly, gripping the torch tighter.
"…Great. So the answer is religion. Totally what I wanted to hear."
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Pray? Me? The same guy who hadn't set foot inside a church in years unless it was to steal free air conditioning in the summer? Yeah, this was going to be awkward.
Still… what choice did I have?
"Alright, fine," I muttered, kneeling down in front of the carvings. "Oh great goddess of winds, Aurelia, lady of skies, storm-bringer, whatever other fancy titles you probably like being called… please, I beg for your guidance."
I shut my eyes and clasped my hands together, which felt ridiculous by the way. My voice echoed against the stone as I kept going, pulling half-remembered lines from every movie prayer scene I'd ever seen. "Guide me out of this cave, don't let me die horribly to goblins again, uh… bless my totally amazing survival skills… yeah."
I stayed there. Praying. For thirty seconds.
Nothing.
The silence pressed in around me, heavy and mocking. My knees ached. My torch flickered like it was laughing at me.
"…Figures," I muttered, standing up and dusting myself off. "Guess divine customer service is offline tod—"
And then it hit me.
A roar of wind, stronger than anything before, burst into the chamber. It slammed into me with the force of a hurricane, ripping the torch from my hand, howling in my ears. My body lifted off the ground, weightless, like I'd just been scooped up by the sky itself.
I flailed, shouting, "WAITWAITWAIT—!" but it didn't matter. The wind carried me upward, past the gaping hole, rushing faster and faster until my feet slammed onto solid stone.
The bridge. The platform. I'd made it.
Heart pounding, I staggered forward, barely catching my breath.
"…Okay," I gasped. "Guess divine customer service is very much online. And terrifying."