Curing my Curse [Caelum]

[Caelum]

The tunnel vibrated around them, raining flakes of Semele's skin upon them, dusting over the desperate tread of their steps to erase them. A hand reached back in the black, grabbing the front of Talen's shirt. The guardsman found himself jerked sideways, stumbled and at last shoved back against a hard, rock wall. The torch gulped, shredding up light that stopped only against the shimmering wall against which Cian had pushed Talen. It vanished somewhere in the above, the sound of dripping water creating a musical counterpoint to the decreasing sigh of trembling earth. Al was still and they were out of the tunnel, into the mouth of a small, domed cavern whose teeth spiked from the ceiling in shining, milky spirals of stalactites. "Sweet Rak'keli," Cian breathed, his death grip on Talen's shirt slowly, painfully releasing until he stepped back. The healer shook out his hand as if in the attempted shed of some fear. "Well," he breathed heavily, lifting the torch as he turned. Clumps of dirt crumbled from his hair, littering the moss covered cavern floor. "We're here. And that --" He stabbed his torch up, up a good thirty some odd feet the cavern wall toward a dimly lit hole on the edge of the ceiling. "Appears its going to be our safest route out." Cian did not want to return to that tunnel, it would seem. No, sir.