Lost (but Without the Polar Bear)

The air felt thick. Not thick with humidity or dust, just thick. Maybe dense was a better word, but neither made any sense considering that breathing wasn't any harder. Still, it felt weighty in his lungs, and the atmosphere around him felt like a blanket that was just a little too heavy. Of all things, John's attention landed on this. He was swimming in a tumultuous ocean of emotion while a thousand more pressing matters waited in the wings, but he chose to focus on how the air felt. It was easier to address, something to stay afloat with.

"Newman." Moira's voice snapped through the chill. She had stepped forward to stand beside him and was eying him with irritated concern.

"Whuh?" John's mind surfaced and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I mean, what? What did you say?"

"I said 'Welcome to the Abyss.'" Moira frowned. "From the look of it, you haven't been here before." That gave John pause.

"Haven't I been a part of it since the day you dragged me into your dad's office?"

"Study," she corrected, "and yes, but this is it. The Abyss. Not the concept, the place. You mean to tell me that you didn't intend to bring us here?"

"I-" John stopped a moment to wipe the remnants of tears from his eyes. His mind was still reeling and heart still pounding from the emotional whiplash. It made it hard to concentrate. "No, not exactly. I meant to open a Barrier, but I was angry. I wasn't thinking, and it did something to my spell, maybe." He chose not to fill Moira in on the details of Limit Break, or that his decision was deliberate, if ill-informed.

"That's not too surprising, actually," Moira said, oddly calm. "Heightened emotions can affect a mage's spells, some more than others, and for better or for worse. What really surprises me is the extent of the effect. It's a grand leap from opening an ordinary Barrier to opening passage to the Abyss. Honestly, I'm impressed."

"Thanks, I guess," John replied, sheepishly. It felt weird to be thanking the girl he had just been in a shouting match with while his cheek still stung from her earlier slap. "So, now what?"

"Now you open a way back and we resume your training. I don't know what you intended by opening a Barrier, but you won't find it here. Needless to say, this place is dangerous. Less so than most, maybe, being so close to home, but dangerous nonetheless. The Abyss has an uncanny ability to surprise even those familiar with its environment."

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense." John nodded. He pulled up the menu for Create Instance and found the entire window greyed out. Tap as he might, it was completely unresponsive. Eventually, he noticed a small notification at the top of the window: 'Inactive While in the Abyss.' Frustrated, he closed it and tried Exit Instance. Nothing happened. He couldn't feel the spell inside him, nor did the mana meant for the casting go anywhere. More than a little concerned, he opened his character sheet and scrolled through his skills, hoping to find Open the Way listed among them. Instead, all he found in the list was his usual repertoire, with both Instance spells faded into the background. "Um, Moira?"

"Yes?" Moira's eyes narrowed, sensing John's trepidation.

"What if I told you I don't know how to get us back?" he said.

"I'd say that's ridiculous," she answered, voice tinged with agitation.

"Yeah, you're right," John **** a feeble laugh. "So, uh, funny thing is… I don't know how to get us back."

"What do you mean?" Moira scowled. John could almost hear her teeth grinding.

"The spell is back how it used to be, and I can't use it here," John explained.

"Be serious for once, Newman," Moira groaned. "You cast the spell only a minute ago. Just do it again."

"I can't!" John cried. "I told you, my Barrier spell is back to only making Barriers, and I can't use it inside the Abyss. I can't even use the spell I use to escape Barriers."

"I heard you the first time." Moira shut her eyes and rubbed her temples in obvious annoyance. "I know you said casting it was an accident because you were upset, but if you did it once, you can do it again. Remember the feeling you had and how the mana flowed and repeat it, it should be simple enough."

John had absolutely no idea what Moira was talking about. It all happened so fast, with barely any intent from him. Besides, all he ever felt his mana do was come and go, there was no difference in 'flow' to speak of between his spells. Regardless, he closed his eyes and tried to reach out with his mind for the memory of a feeling he never had. It didn't work.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do it," he said after a moment of fruitless effort. "There's nothing there."

"There has to be," Moira almost hissed. John noticed something creeping into her voice; worry? "Try again."

"Fine." John tried again and failed again. For good measure, he took a full minute to concentrate and make one last attempt. No dice. He kicked a rock in frustration and watched it clack and clatter against the stone walls enclosing them. It was his turn to start getting annoyed. "Why don't you just do it yourself? Aren't you really strong?"

"I-" Moira sputtered, caught off guard, "power and ability are not the same thing!"

"So, wait," John said, realization dawning on him, "you can't do it either?"

"No!" Moira shook her head frantically, examining their surroundings anew. She swore something to The Lady under her breath, looking at John once more. "You're absolutely certain you can't cast the spell again? If this is some sort of ruse, Newman-"

"It's not, I can't!" John waved his upraised hands defensively, his own anxiety starting to set in. "Why the hell would I want to be trapped in the Abyss with you, of all people?"

"And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?" Moira shifted gears from distraught to indignant in an instant. "You do know who I am, don't you? Countless mages would be honored to accompany me alone, while countless more would be thrilled to take advantage of the isolation in an attempt to kill me. I can't imagine why you'd have any reason to take issue with this situation. If anything, I'm the one in a lamentable position."

"Has it ever occured to you that everyone who doesn't fit into those two categories is probably too intimidated by you to enjoy your oh-so-pleasant company?" John said, oddly emboldened in spite of the fact that he'd just admitted to Moira that he was afraid of her. The Warden opened her mouth to retort, but closed it for a moment to consider her words.

"No. No it hasn't," she said. "But I don't see why. I'm no threat to you. I have no desire to hurt you, despite your constant, petulant barbs. For someone supposedly intimidated by me, you're awfully brazen."

"Maybe I just get snippy when I'm scared." John crossed his arms and looked away in a manner he hoped looked defiant rather than upset. He attempted to focus on a nearby stalagmite in an effort to maintain a neutral expression. The steady drips from its paired stalactite helped him focus his thoughts.

"That's clearly not true, unless..." Moira paused to study John. "Unless you're perpetually frightened."

Only around you. And Frank. And Wentworth. And your father. And- ah, fuck it.

"Forget about it, alright?" John shouted. "Let's quit talking about me and get back to how we're supposed to get out of here. If neither of us can open up a way out, what do we do?"

"We have two options." Moira said plainly, clearly as willing to drop the subject as John. "First, we wait. Erica will alert Reginald or my father about what happened, and sooner or later a rescue party will find their way here and escort us out."

"How long would that take?" John asked.

"I'm not sure. In order to find us, they'd need to first know that we're in the Abyss and not spirited away to somewhere else. Figuring that out depends on what sort of trace mana your spell left behind. After that, it becomes an issue of how close to us their entry point brings them, and how large a **** they send. To tell the truth, it could take anywhere from half an hour to… two weeks."

"Shit," John said, trying to downplay his alarm. Two weeks trapped in a giant cave with Moira Brighton? No. Hell no. His stomach did somersaults just imagining how they'd survive that long. What would they eat, Goblin meat or something? And how would they keep from tearing out each other's throats? More accurately, how would John avoid Moira finally getting sick of him and knocking his head clean off?

"What's option two?"

"We find our own way out," Moira said, casually unpinning her shield brooch and expanding it to full size. She reached inside whatever pocket space it held and began pulling things out as she talked. It was armor, mostly. "I'm well versed with these caverns, and I think I have an idea where we are. If I'm right, we're only a few days travel by foot to a Gate. The Order will likely send a team through it to find us, so it's even likely we'll cross paths along the way."

A Gate, right. The term jogged John's memory from some of his late night Abyssal study sessions. There were Gates scattered across the world, permanent portals to and from the Abyss. They linked to a mostly static location on either side, vaguely located to each other in relation to their corresponding points, barring a few anomalies. Given that the Abyss was tremendously huge in comparison to Earth, and that it was apparently still growing, the ratio of distance between Gates on Earth and in the Abyss was astronomical, and the positions occasionally shifted on the Abyssal end. Some theorized that there were distinct grids of Gates leading to associated biomes of the Abyss, rather than one large network, but given the difficulty of access, no one could confirm this for certain. The issue was that Gates served as the primary way to access the Abyss for those who could not do so under their own power, and as such were of immeasurable value to any organization able to claim the sole control of. It didn't surprise John that the Order of the Golden Rose had one all to themselves.

"Is that a good idea?" John questioned. "Wandering around the Abyss is dangerous, right?"

"For you, maybe," Moira said, fiddling with the straps of a shining steel breastplate. A small voice in John's head bemoaned the fact that it was an ordinary, featureless breastplate, and not a scale mail bikini or boobplate. "I'm more than equipped to handle anything these caverns can throw at us."

"Oh, great!" John felt a weight lift from his chest. "Then I guess getting home should be easy, right?"

"Not exactly, Newman." Moira turned to quash John's relief with a flat look, then knelt to pull on her greaves. "You're responsible for this, so it's going to be your responsibility to get us out. Think of this as punishment and training in equal parts. One does not simply get to abduct a Warden of the Golden Rose without consequence, innocent intent or otherwise."

"What does that mean?" John swallowed, well aware of the familiar anxiety bubbling up within him. "You know the way out, not me. I'll only get us more lost than we already are."

"I'll guide you," Moira continued to explain, just as cooly, "and I even have supplies enough for the two of us to survive the journey. Your objective is to clear the path. No one can be certain what exactly stands between us and the exit, but it will be your responsibility to take care of it, not mine."

"A-are you serious?" John stammered. Moira's discipline hit him like a sack of bricks to the kidneys. Suddenly, the gloom of the dimly lit passageways seemed heavier, and a sense of claustrophobia started to press in on all sides. "You can't be serious! Please tell me you're not serious!"

"Deadly so," Moira said, cinching the straps of a newly adorned gauntlet. Intentional or not, she emphasized the point by balling her first to test the articulation. "I shan't be lifting a finger to help you, even if it means watching you die."

"You can't!" John shouted. His voice returned in cold, distorted echoes from every direction, and found his legs beginning to shake beneath him. How could Moira, the righteous and holy leader of Paladins, be so merciless? It was cruel - no, completely heartless! Adrenaline began to gather in John's fingertips as the weight of his situation crashed down upon him once more. "What was all that you said before about not having the time to play with and belittle your recruits? I can barely handle myself in a Barrier, let alone the real thing!"

"Newman, I am within rights to convict you of treason and perform a summary execution on the spot," Moira said, cold as the steel she wore. Cold enough to send a chill down his spine that froze him rigid. "You've willingly put me in danger, however small, and cut me off from the Order. Were I not so certain that this is all a tremendous mistake on your part, and had I looser grasp of your character and motivations, I wouldn't simply be justified in doing so, I would be obligated to for the safety of the Order. In light of that, this is a mercy, not a **** sentence."

"It's basically the same thing, only slower!" John cried, frantic. He had too many emotions to sort through, but terror and fury floated amongst the top. "I'm not ready for this! I'll die without you!"

"If you say so, then you're right." Moira crossed her arms, frowning. "Or were you the one making empty claims earlier? 'I'm tired of giving up before I start,' was it? From where I stand, I see a boy too scared to have any confidence in himself. I'd much rather see the young man that said those words, the one willing to rise above his station. Now's the time to show me which one you are."

Shame and hate burned in John's face as tears threatened to form in the corners of his eyes. He was ashamed of being so weak, and he hated Moira for being such a raging bitch. More than that, he hated her for being right. His fists clenched until he could feel his nails dig painfully into his own palms. There was no winning. Again, his only options were failure, a choice between admitting defeat to the world or to Moira. John put so much effort into containing himself that he was almost certain a blood vessel somewhere would pop under the pressure.

"Fine," he spat. "Have it your way, you sadistic psychopath. I'll play along, or die trying, at least. Where to?"

Moira said nothing, not even in response to the insult. Jaw tight, she pivoted and walked in the direction of the largest nearby tunnel. After a shaky breath, John followed.

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<New Quest!>
Trial by Fire

Escape the Abyss.

+400 exp
1 Very Rare Item
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