Tale:Fear of Death

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Deeper than all else, there is the Void

This content is a part of Abystyx.

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Preceded by: Breach

They cannot see the stars. Not truly. They see them as a cloak over the World, rather than their Truth. —Althaanii 1:2

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Even in the darkness of Soulmoon, Vand's eyes still ached as they started to adjust to what seemed bright light to him, being accustomed to darker darkness than even a typical Kobold. Tears pooled in his eyes and he blinked. He could start making out shapes. He saw verdant hills of green, snow-capped mountains, flowing rivers, and most importantly, the stars. A dome of thousands upon thousands of tiny dots of light in the sky. The sky... there seemed to be a hole in it. It must've been the Moon of Souls that Maryam mentioned. He knew there were other moons. Three? Four? He had no idea. In the Abyss, time was only measured in broad strokes. He couldn't really be sure exactly how old he was, but he knew he was surely a grown man now.

"I think I can stand now," Vand said. Maryam nodded, released the ropes that kept Vand attached to her back, and he fell to the ground. He landed on his feet and subtly moved the Needle from his tunic to his belt, the metal against his chest having become irritating; despite his effort, Maryam evidently noticed.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Oh, that? It's the Kobold treasure I retrieved from that...horrible witch." She accepted his answer simply. It seemed on the Surface, he might be taken for a heroic prince righting the wrongs of the past. With cloak and dagger, he would be a prince of darkness, spying and sneaking and, perchance, assassinating. Yes, that would be it. A lovable rogue, or a noble hoodlum; or, perhaps, the thing in the night all people fear, Death himself, reaping what he chose. He shuddered and smiled at the thought of his actions in shadow. Then he shook himself. What am I thinking?! Prince of Darkness? Death himself?! Oh, Mot spare me! Changing the subject, Vand said, "So, where is our destination?"

"It's there. Beit-Tiemat. My home, a fishing town at the western edge of Cadmea." She gestured to a nearby sprawl of wooden houses, stone towers, a set of docks, and an impressive castle of rock that lay on the sandy coast, but Vand could not help but look at the ocean. It was such a vast expanse of nothing but water. Entire hills of the dark liquid surged, flowed, crashed, and sprayed. The strong smell of saltwater lingered in the air, something Vand only had experienced in small amounts in the occassional salt spring of Styx. His nostrils burned and his tongue salivated. The sandy shore and palm trees broke the near-endless greenery. His gaze moved to boats on the docks, and a ship or two moving into the world. Trade in the underground was only undertaken using networks of roads and canals, so to see open ocean was as big a surprise as seeing an open atmopshere for the first time. There were lakes and springs in Styx. Rivers and canals, tunnels and roads; but there was nothing to the scale he was seeing on the surface. In the layers he came from, the largest Nethers were only about the size of a single mountain, like the one he sighted nearby with a bright star hanging above it. They seemed so small, now. Vand knew the Abyss was as large as the Surface and Sky combined, yet, it seemed the Surface was more...economical...with its distribution of open and filled spaces.

He looked at Maryam. He hadn't seen her well, as he had been tied up for some reason. She must've been about six-and-a-half feet tall, but perhaps he was overestimating. Her black eyes seemed unusual to Vand; Humans evidently had mostly white eyes, with the color restricted to a small section. Additionally, she had curly brown hair to her shoulders coming from under her spiked helmet. The first Human he had seen didn't have hair; then again, she was decomposed. Maryam's brown skin was matte and all in once piece, not shiny, moist, and scaled like that of most people Vand knew. She wore an impressive piece of armor, a chain hauberk, covered by a purple vest crested with a white...dragon of some variety? He would have to ask about that. Her cape was the same color. It seemed purple was in great supply in Cadmea, or at least Beit-Tiemat, for it to be the main color of her outfit. Other than her hauberk, she had plate gauntlets and boots, quite extravagant armor. Despite her noble outerwear, her loose pants and long shirt resembled Vand's, albeit a natural tan instead of dyed black. He expected the Surface to be more foreign, but evidently he could not avoid cultural similarities by a small change in elevation and atmosphere.

"What's that on your vest," he asked, not really having much else to say. He took a couple steps and Maryam matched his pace with half the strides, but slowed down for him. They started to walk towards town.

"The great goddess of the sea, Tiemat!"

"Oh! But what is she?"

"I...don't know. She's a sort of serpent, but more, ah, fishy?" she explained. "She has great fins, and a breath of salt, and a long tail which is basically her whole body, and—" she was pointing to different parts of the creature on her vest as she explained, but Vand was becoming overwhelmed. Of course he had seen plenty of fish, but one so large? With a breath of salt?

"I think I get it now..." he grumbled, "you say she's the goddess of the sea?"

"Yes, and her favour is essential for sailors, dockworkers, and fishers, which essentially means the population of my town," she said. "It's named after her for a reason," she said chuckling. They exited from a crevasse in a rocky hillside, walking along a vague path of ever so slightly withered vegetation. The paths in the Abyss were all made of smoothed or carved stone, a path of trampled grass was almost surprising. It wasn't anything special really. Abyssfolk pave rock, Surfacefolk pave dirt, Vand thought. The journey to town was uneventful. It was a short walk, all things considered. Then a burning set into Vand's eyes and he cried out.

The sky turned red. The stars vanished. A great fire poked out from behind a hill. Vand felt heat against his face and closed his eyes desperately, pulling his hood over his face. The pain started to go away.

"Your presence?! Oh, Hell, the daylight!" Vand felt a metal hand grab his own, then pull him forward. Maryam told him, "That's the Moon of Day. It is the bringer of vision, of warmth, and of hope! Well...for most. For you, it seems to be a great pain. I should have expected such from a young prince of the Abyss." Did she have to emphasize his age?

"Well how old are you, anyway," he snapped.

"Huh? Oh, 25 years. Not a kid like you."

"I am 17," Vand growled. It wasn't exact, but he knew he was that old. He could simply tell.

"Ah? So you are an adult! You look and act just like a kid, haha!" Maryam apparently couldn't read people very well. Then again, neither could he. Vand stopped fighting with her; given she was leading him by the hand as he cowered from the light of the sky, he didn't have a good opening to "act like" a functioning adult. So much to prove and no way to do it. Instead, he reluctantly followed where she led.

As they went into town, the grass and dirt under Vand's feet was replaced by pebbles and stones. So they make roads out of stone, too. He felt a bit foolish for assuming Folk with metal armor wouldn't have stone roads. He heard chatter in Cadmean, but he could not make it out. There were simply too many people talking and the sky was too bright and his clothes were too hot and he was sweating too much and—

---

"Alright, we're at the castle. Once we're in, you can take off that hood," said Maryam as the light and heat became less intense. Vand took a few seconds to realize they were in the shade, and not that it was becoming dark again. He heard a door open and she led him inside. Compared to the Abyss, it was still quite bright; compared to the outside, however, it was pleasantly dim. He lifted his hood a bit and opened his eyes.

Before him were two thrones, seated on them a Human man and woman. They were dressed in purple robes and wore silver crowns. Beside them was a young man, probably several years younger than Maryam, sitting on a small mat. Even he could see the family resemblance, but...

"Maryam, your family are all so pale!" he said without thinking. Maryam shot him a mortified look like he had said something wrong. The throned man started laughing.

"Well, perhaps if she didn't spend all her time 'questing' under the Daymoon, she'd look less like a commoner," he said. What? Commoner? What did that have to do with it? "Maryam, my daughter, who is this strange Folk you have brought into our home? Is that a...Kobold?" He said it sternly and coldly, yet his confusion was clear. Vand was a strange sight on the Surface, he just had to accept it. At least the man knew of his Folk.

"Dad—er—Father, I have come to prove all my questing is truly worthwhile! I rescued," Maryam said, gesturing proudly at Vand, "a Kobold prince! Gaze upon his rings! Truly he is a representation of Cobalt status." Well, that was wrong. The rings came from that tomb. Still, there was no way in Hell was he going to admit to stealing from a Human tomb to nobles. He resolved that he would try to avoid speaking to them at all. The seated woman started to laugh while looking at Vand. Maybe he should stab her, or slit her throat, or—no! No! That would be bad.

"A prince? Are you hoping to marry this boy?" Of course. They all just saw him as a child. He gripped his dagger, thinking of all the places he could stab and cut the arrogant man.

"Don't be ridiculous, Father. By rescuing him, I've helped establish a bond with the Kobolds. An alliance with them could be so very beneficial!" she said, forcing a smile.

"Alright, alright. Welcome to Beit-Tiemat, young prince. I'm sure you've already met my daughter. I am Yousef et-Tiemat, sheikh of Beit-Tiemat" he said, gesturing to himself, "this is my wife and sheikha, Karima," he pointed to the woman next to him, "and here," he said, pointing to the young man, "is the heir to our leadership, Karim." Heir? But he was younger than Maryam, surely? "And what is your name, prince?"

"Ah. My name is Vand. Yousef, why is Karim—" he stopped, the sheikh was giving him an angry look. What else had he done wrong? This was even worse than back home. At least there, people just pitied him.

Maryam leaned down close to him and whispered, "call him 'your presence.'"

"Er...My presence—" Vand stuttered. Yousef kept glaring while Karima whispered something to Karim and laughed. Pompous fools.

"No, no, call him by his presence," Maryam instructed. Oh, right, Vand thought, she did call me something like that earlier.

Vand cleared his throat and inquired, "Your presence?" the mean look softened a bit, "is Maryam not older than Ka—" he stopped himself, "his presence? Should she not become the sheikha once your presence and her presence pass away?" Karim started to look a bit nervous, and his mother held him by his shoulder. Seemingly it was subject of contention. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked, but something else had irked him: Yousef hardly reacted when he addressed Maryam by her given name, so why was Karim any different? Why was he any different, for that matter? Vand was a bit annoyed by having to use formal honorifics, but hypocrisy in their use was on another level.

Karim and his mother snickered as Yousef began to speak: "Maryam? Heir to our rank? No, no. We made the decision shortly before she set out on another quest—is that when you picked him up, Maryam? Anyways, Karim has all the qualities of a good leader." Hardly. He hadn't even spoken but for giggling with his mother. They must be gossiping about me, Vand thought.

"Can the little prince do a dance?" Karim asked in a haughty tone, still giggling. That's the reason he decides to break his silence?!

"Yes, he should dance. His poor manners are so funny, after all," said Karima. He couldn't decide which one to kill first. How did Maryam deal with such fools for a family without bashing their skulls in with her morning star? Vand thought of a way he could hurt the foolish nobles without exiling himself from the Surface. What if, he thought, I leveraged my "position."

"Frankly, your presences," he spoke, clearly and carefully, "I am quite offended by my treatment as a foreign prince by Folk of such low status." He was enveloped in shadow. He would get to teach them their manners. "You have not offered me any food, you have treated your daughter, who saved my life, with disrespect, you have treated me as a child, you have insulted me, and you have failed as an ambassador for your community. When Mot takes you nobody will mourn you." That'll show 'em. Maryam looked at him in shock and awe. The room was darker, yet darker still. The fools cowered in fear and bowed their heads, begging for mercy and holding on to their lives. Those poor mortals, all destined to be consumed by death.

Then he looked back at her face. Maryam wasn't awestruck, she was horrified. Vand shook his head and the room grew bright again. The cloak of darkness he bore was no more, he just wore black cloth again. He felt a bit dizzy. Vertigo set in, and he almost couldn't stand. He held onto Maryam for support. She jumped as he did, and was shaking, but did not cast him away.

"Ah! Oh, get the prince some food and drink! And, uh, take him to bathe in the spring of Tiemat! He seems...unclean," Yousef ordered. At once, servants brought a plate of olives and a glass of cold water (Vand noted that it wasn't alcohol) to Vand. He ate and drank quickly, desperate to leave the presence of the nobles.

Noticing Vand's quick eating, Maryam said, "Oh, I'll escort the prince to the spring." Vand guessed she didn't exactly trust anyone in the castle to do it, and he couldn't really get to it alone. She seemed to be in a rush, as she pulled his own hood over his face and dragged him out of the castle.

"Ughh! I hate them. They are simply despicable," she said once they were out of earshot of the throne room. She went at a pace where Vand could hardly keep up; she was dragging him along. The Moon of Day was still overhead, so Vand still couldn't get a good look at the town. He heard the sound of the ocean get louder and flinched as his feet touched warm sand. He could taste cool saltwater mist hitting his face as the sound of Maryam's footsteps were muffled. He felt around a bit and touched wet rock before being yanked away from it. Eventually, she led him into a dark place with rock underfoot. Vand opened his eyes and lifted his hood to see a homely grotto with a large pool of water inside. The pool was about his height in depth, and evidently natural, but had a manmade edge surrounding it, like it was made more square and even for convenience.

"Look, Vand, I'm not sure what you did, or how you did it, but it was scary. Some dark influence is beside you. Cleanse yourself in the spring, I beg of you." Dark influence? Terrifying? That was worrying. She handed him a strange oval of a cakey white substance.

"What's this?" Vand asked.

"It's soap," she replied, confused, "you use it to clean yourself." Maryam left the cavern, presumably heading back to town. At once, Vand made himself comfortable in the cave and looked to the steaming spring inside.

---

Vand unfastened the brooch on his cloak and let it fall to the floor. It was waterproof, and he had generally not worried about getting it dirty. He felt a bit underdressed already, given he hadn't taken his cloak off since his ascent, but he did feel a bit odd after the events at the castle. Maybe he really did need to be cleansed; perhaps Maryam was right. He took off his rucksack and slipped his stolen rings as well as the Needle into it, then wrapped his cloak around it. He almost wondered if the dagger's secret had been a dream, thought up while he was magically bound to the altar; still, he knew better. It had to have been real. He took off his belt next, made of the hide of Styx goats; it made him confident in his climbing skills. He listened carefully to make sure there was nobody nearby. He took off his trousers, then his tunic, and hesitated before stepping into the spring.

Vand looked at himself in the reflection of the water. He was just dark amaranth scales and bones. He could see his ribs beneath his pale rose underbelly. His whole body was just puny and scrawny, at only leaving75 pounds. His horns were too short. His snout was too long, and the spike on the end of it was silly-looking. He was too short by far, only a bit over 3 feet tall; however, trying to look for more to scrutinize, he couldn't help but notice how his colors shone vividly in the light of a Surface cave. He noticed that the large triangular crest of his forehead made him imposing, and that really, his horns were a fine size, just small next to his crest. They, and his claws, were the only parts of him that had kept growing, and would continue to be until he died. His eyes of amber glistened in the light. His tail continued both the dark and rough scales of his back and pale smooth scales of his underside.

He dipped his tail into the spring. It was hot, but not to a point of being uncomfortable. Vand descended into the water and touched the bottom once he was submerged up to his chin, feeling a strange amount of resistance, like the water was trying to push him out. The smell of salt was strong. He confirmed a suspicion he had by dipping his tongue into the surface of the water; indeed, it was dense saltwater. The warmth of the water soothed his body and made his every worry disappear. The world above and below existed not; he was alone, and he was safe. He took the chunk of soap from the edge of the water and began to scrub himself clean. It worked like magic, binding to all the dirt, grease, and oil on his body and whisking it away into the water. A layer of his skin started to fall off in pieces; he welcomed its departure.

All across his body, he rubbed soap and water, sanctifying himself of all his terrors. He started to float on his back, keeping his body just below the water and balancing himself with his tail. Looking at the rocky roof reminded him of home. He had departed bitter and resentful of it, his family, and the Abyss, but now he thought perhaps he had been hasty; no, not hasty, he was glad to reach the Surface; rather, he had mistaken the bitterness within himself for the bitterness without. It really was worse up above. Maryam had a better life, but her family was far more venomous. He missed being able to go where he pleased until Mot took him into slumber; here, he had to evade the harsh light of a crazed moon. He needed to leave home, he needed to be independent for once, but was he right in heading to the Surface? Perhaps he should have just started in a direction and kept going, perhaps meet a different clan of Kobolds. Alternatively, he could have descended until he reached the barrier of Cthon, even have found a gap in it and gone down all the way to Hell, perhaps discovering if it was truly the abode of the dead; but no, it was destined to be this way. He was supposed to come to the Surface, Styx made it so. Maybe, just maybe, he was to bring darkness to the world above, to show the Surfacefolk the world they never knew.

Was that what had happened at the castle? There, he was angry at those fools, but when he reprimanded them, he felt so calm, so cool, so silent. Was he himself then? If not, who was he? He was no prince, but perhaps he truly was the prince of darkness. As he thought that, the steam in the cavern thickened and the water and air became hard to distinguish. He could breathe, yet there was no surface of the water to submerge under. Up and down became meaningless. He was in a cloud of steam and saltwater, suspended in the walls of the cave. He swung his arms and felt the resistance of water, but opening his mouth yielded no liquid. Vand felt attuned to an unseen force; he was dwelling on the border of reality and...something else. He felt a great, long, slimy thing slither around him and constrict him. He swore he could feel a fin, yet he could see nothing. He felt winds like those of the coast hit his face, somehow being saltier than the air, or water, already surrounding him.

A voice like crashing waves echoed through the cave: "Young man," the voice addressed, clearly being of superior judgement to most people Vand had met, "be not afraid, for I shall not harm you." Well he hadn't expected harm, but now...still, he listened attentively, "The challenges ahead of you are great; the darkness within you is greater. I sense you already know of what I speak. I give you this warning: your drive for death is powerful, but let it consume you not. Lust for your grave and that of others must be faced with temperance. The sea brings death, I confess, but I implore that you do not give in to the void!" And who was this voice to tell him what to do? Wait, what was he thinking?! Of course he needed to control himself!

"Please," he begged, "tell me, what's wrong with me? Am I a demon of some sort? Was my birth as a seventh child truly a curse?"

"I cannot tell you what you are, for I do not comprehend it myself. All that I know is the great void of darkness I felt upon your entry in my spring. I have done all I can to relieve you."

"Why relieve me?! Why not let me sink into the void? It's where I belong..." It couldn't be true, though. He was just hoping his incorporeal benefactor would tell him it wasn't so, and that he would believe it himself.

"Perhaps you are right," his heart sank. "yet, I cannot simply watch as you are consumed." Consumed. Like he was prey for something bigger than himself. There's always a bigger fish, bigger than the one speaking to him, even. But, had he not promised to himself he would never let another control him? That he would fight against control? Why then, did he feel like giving in to the clutch of Mot? Was his desire built on contradicting the master of the spring who now commanded him? But no, he had felt it before talking to the spirit. "I must go now," they said, "as I shan't linger longer than is necessary."

And just like that, the spring returned to normal. Now Vand simply stood in hot water. He could drown himself in it if he really tried, but perhaps its owner should object to that. Perhaps he should object to that. There was a deep solitude set within him; not a loneliness, not a yearning for companionship, but just the sinking feeling that nobody would ever understand him, the prince of darkness, and that was alright. He splashed water over his face. Who was he? Who would he become?

---

By the time Vand finished relaxing in the spring, the light in the cave grew dim, and moist air came from outside. Compared to the hot water, it was absolute zero. Vand, however, had the will to lift himself out of the spring, shaking the water off himself. Now, the cool air seemed homely. He dressed himself in his clothes and belt, tucked the Needle at his hip, left the rings in his bag as he put it on, and wrapped his cloak around himself. He let his body heat warm his body, inching away from the spring. His scales felt so smooth, so soft, and so hydrated. His muscles were relaxed and his bones were vitalized. He pulled his hood down. Carefully, he exited the grotto with his eyes closed; to his surprise, his eyes felt no pain. Opening them, he saw the ocean, more vivid and beautiful than when he sighted it the last night, and in its reflection he saw a brilliant white disc. Looking up, he saw it was another moon; it was bright, but much less so than the Daymoon; still, he could barely tolerate looking directly at it, and averted his gaze. He noticed that the water was very close to the entrance of the cave, in a way that perplexed him; he was sure he was a few steps farther from the entrance than he could be while staying dry. It was as if the level of water had miraculously changed. In the water, he noticed an orange flame, growing...closer to him? It must be Maryam, Vand thought. He wondered if she had spoken with her family while he soaked in the spring.

"Vand? Where are you?" he heard her say. He turned around to see her right beside him, leaning into the cave entrance. She was crouched down, she should have been able to see him.

"Right here," he said. Maryam spun around and seemed shocked to see him. This came as no surprise to Vand; he had always been stealthy, after all, which was his greatest asset in avoiding confrontation and obligation. Maryam tried to take his hand, but Vand took a step back and said, "I can see just fine right now. What's that one called?" He pointed to the moon in the sky.

"Ah, I see. It's the most sacred Moon of Tears. It controls the tides—that is to say, it makes the ocean rise and fall." So it seemed. Vand considered for a moment informing Maryam of his encounter in the spring, but it would likely only make her suspect him of heresy or possession. That mace crushing his skull...her involvement made the thought more terrifying than relaxing. He then noticed she still had her mace tied to her back, and on top of that, she was wearing a large bag.

"Are you...going somewhere?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Why, yes. And I'm taking you." What? Huh? "I'm delivering taxes to the treasury of the emirate at the capital, Phoenix. I'm not letting you remain here in town, my family is going to come after you." Come after him? Did his grand gesture of shaming them end up having consequences? Of course it did. "They lied. They didn't want you cleansed in the sacred spring. They expected you would die." Die? How? "Of course, being as pious as I am, and knowing you better than them, I recognized that Tiemat would never do such a thing to someone like you." Tiemat...that ocean deity on her vest? "I knew she would rather guard your spirit. Vand, I'm worried about you. Whatever you did in the castle, my mother thinks it's the work of a demon. She said Kobolds are the spawn of Mot. Of course, that can't be true, because the god of death could never create life!" Uh oh. That's not good. It would be ideal to slowly introduce the Kobold conception of Mot—no, it was more than that, as its offspring, they knew the true conception of Mot—to her in due time. There was no way he could hide the Truth forever. It always found a way of being revealed. Well, I guess I'll have to tell her I'm not a prince at some point, too. "Anyways," she said, "There's another matter at hand.

"I heard from a butcher that the elder prince of Cadmea," Vand's eyes widened, "yes, that's right, the whole emirate, was captured by..." Vand held his breath, "A Wyrm! A dark and magnificent Wyrm! Now's my chance! I shall vanquish the Wyrm in combat and marry the prince!" Ah, so that's why she's the one taking it.

"A Wyrm? aren't they massive?" he asked. There weren't any Wyrms in Styx; even down in the lower levels, closer to Cthon, there weren't Nethers big enough for a dragon, least of all a flying one, such as a Wyrm.

"Not always. My guess is if it cared about Folk enough to kidnap a prince, it must not be that strong. I'd be able to take it on even if it was, anyway." Doubtful. "Anyways, you're pretty hard to notice, aren't you?" Ouch. "So, I think you could serve as a burglar in this adventure. Maybe you'll even be able to charm the Wyrm with your common relations!" Common relations? Kobolds aren't related to Wyrms. Probably just a Surface myth.

"What relations? Kobolds are the spawn of Styx and—" and Mot, but he couldn't say that now, "the spawn of Styx, the underground water."

"I'm sure your reptile nature will still be good as a distraction." Whatever. He didn't see how fighting a dragon would be better than fighting her family, but perhaps...perhaps they were more of a threat than he thought. Yes, if Maryam was acting more serious about her family than a dragon, they must be actively planning his death. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't someone else. Fine then, he would help her rescue a prince from a dragon, and fulfill her fantasies of courtly love. It was preferable to staying in town any longer.

"Sure, I'll come along, help you rescue that prince," he said, smirking. "I'm sure I can handle a dragon as well as you."

"Ha! As well as you can handle an undead witch!" Right. That. Vand hid underneath his cloak and followed in Maryam's footsteps. They walked briskly around the edge of town, avoiding being seen by anybody that might rat him out to the town government. Vand wondered why Beit-Tiemat had so much autonomy; why was it taxed directly by the emirate? He asked this of Maryam.

"Well, now that you mention it," she trailed, "our country's economy is built on sea travel. Of course, this town is the seat of Her Holiness. As such, there was a struggle between several governorates over it when the whole bureaucracy was set up a few generations ago," she said.

"Why not just make it the capital if its so religiously important? Wouldn't it make the best trade city?"

"Well, I'd like to think so, but then no other port city in the emirate would be able to compete." Sure, definitely. "Phoenix is actually inland for that reason; the seat of government can't be a port city because the merchants would all flock to it, and then the different ports wouldn't specialize as much anymore." So it was economically beneficial as well as politically necessary to keep Beit-Tiemat as somewhat unincorporated. And being outside of that pecking order maid the et-Tiemats rather arrogant. Of course, the entire bureaucracy still seemed strange; he had heard plenty of stories from merchants that had gone on trips to the Surface, but he didn't believe things were really so hierarchical and stewardly in the world above.

"What are the taxes for, anyways?" Vand asked.

"Ah, you know. Roads, infrastructure, paying government officials." Right, right, people work for pay here, Vand thought. He knew other clans did it differently, but his generally did all the road, canal, and stair building that made the Abyss efficient out of compulsion, like it was their divine duty, and didn't bother paying for food. Money was mainly used in trade with the Surface. Soon, he saw a strange and large creature that Maryam dashed to. It was four-legged, tan, and had a large hump on its back. It sort of looked like a massive goat, but had no horns, and its eyes weren't as rectangular.

"This is Habib, my camel; well, he's mine now." She slapped its hump. "This thing can store so much food and water, he can go for weeks without either! And, he can carry our stuff." Vand's eyes moved to the massive pack on the camel's grand saddle. Clearly, she is serious about leaving now, he thought. He was picked up and placed in front of the camel's hump by Maryam, and subsequently she got up behind its hump and took the reins. Maryam kicked the camel's rear and called out for it to run, and so it ran, as Vand watched Beit-Tiemat get smaller and smaller. Good riddance, what in Hell was up with them anyways?