Chapter Text
There were footsteps behind Avery.
He gave a small snort, his eyes wandering slowly across the void of the endless labyrinths. A short sword hung at his hip; yellow flowers in his slime nodded cheerfully with every step, trying to catch the cool breeze that carried the scent of sulfur and dust. This place — a cave? A system of tunnels? — had neither beginning nor end, as far as his eyes could see. Beneath him sat a thick void; to his sides, like mirrors, hung identical golden paths that spiraled into themselves, lit only by rare, thin torches. Somewhere in the distance, the wind whistled, and behind.
Clang.
Avery could not look behind.
The slime hadn't stopped for. Uh. A month? And yet, the place still hadn't changed. Even he himself seemed unchanged — neither hunger nor fatigue had defeated him; they only clung to his ankles like a prisoner's shackles. He needed neither sleep nor rest. Avery was starting to feel a bit like a ghost.
Clang.
Avery tried to look as straight ahead as possible. Before, during the first week or so, his eyes had been glued to the floor, too terrified of accidentally breaking everything like a particularly fragile piece of porcelain. Turning his head at the wrong angle, habitually reaching back in an attempt to grab a certain someone by the wrist, and losing his only chance to see his dear friend above ground again. He had to trample that fear quickly as the path began to grow more… bizarre.
The road grew thinner, curving, plunging sharply down, or surging up. Torches began to appear in the middle of his path, low-hanging signs in an unintelligible language, large stones, once even a cactus.
It was a performance, after all. It would be boring if everything were too easy.
"Do you think,” Avery began, not bothering to slow his pace. Sometimes the footsteps would go silent or fade into the distance, but that was only his own inattentiveness. The person was behind him, regardless of what he heard. It had always been that way, so why should it suddenly change? "Are we close?”
Clang.
"Mm." Avery hummed, allowing himself to close his eyes for a second too long. The footsteps behind him never even remotely resembled an answer, but it was nice to pretend he had someone to talk to. "Thought so."
At first, Avery couldn't stop talking. There was something incredible, dizzying, in what he had been able to go through to find his friend. He talked and talked and talked. He excitedly retold the story of how he found the book covered in blood — probably three times over. Each time more vivid, the metaphors more bizarre, the jokes funnier. He created an entire performance with characters and a stage, contorting his own body for the scenery; a small apology for how much time it took him to come here.
But despite this, no familiar huff — which could just as easily have been a laugh — was ever heard from behind. Sometimes he would ask something silly and unimportant, only to remember after a long moment of silence that his only answer would be.
Clang.
Avery let out an amused exhale through his nose.
"Gosh. I miss your voice, you know." He glanced quickly at his hands, playing with a few small flowers popping out of his palm. Their petals were so delicate; they reminded him of home. It was funny. There were many flowers on their porch, but not a single yellow one. "I've missed you so much."
Avery could admit, with a certain shame, that he was almost forgetting how D3rlord3 sounded. He had a quiet voice, a bit deep, like chocolate, cocoa, and a fire in the hearth. It was hard to get him to talk, mostly because he was such an arrogant ass, but once Avery found the right topic, the knight was difficult to shut up. D3r used long, knotted sentences with overly poetic words and phrases, as if he were speaking to the King himself. It seemed to him that the man had read too many adventure novels with dragons and princesses.
Not that it was a bad thing. Avery liked it — it was so... D3r-ish, or something.
Clang.
"Yeah, yeah. Of course." Avery rolled his eyes. He could perfectly imagine the reply — something sarcastic and a tiny bit annoyed. The man never liked the idea of Avery being in danger, and this whole... fiasco… could hardly be called safe. "Say what you want, I regret nothing."
Clang.
Perhaps he was calling him stupid right now. It would be fitting; who but an idiot would agree to any deal with an All-knowing God?
Clang.
Avery, obviously.