Yaro didn’t want to spend time hunting, she rarely did. She’d rather have gone to sleep to regain energy, so she wasn’t conscious of the time she wasted. It wasn’t very often she needed to eat either, but recent stresses forced her hand.

The worst part wasn’t that she was kept to hunt underground, where her need to have lights gave away her presence. It wasn’t that she had to flee yet another city. It wasn’t even that she had to keep moving against the pangs in her leg. It was the loneliness.

Fine, it was how tired she was, how her stomach growled incessantly too. But those were symptoms, byproducts of her own ineptitude. When she had her Atho, she never had to worry about food or shelter, not after the first few seasons that was. When they first met, she still found her own food, always surprised when she came home to a warm cooked meal. She felt foolish bringing him what she did, despite his gratitude for almost rotting food from those who lived their lives in excess. It was a remnant, hard to kick.

It never truly went away, she found as she listened to the darkness. She could rely on herself to keep her alive, for what divine purpose that could possibly be. Not that she truly believed in that sort of thing.

It was so frustrating that she couldn’t rely on her eyes. If she could have made it to the surface before hunger set in, the hunt would have been over in a matter of minutes. Instead, she had to expend so much energy to use senses that weren’t so keen. She could see shapes from the bioluminescent worms or plants to guide her through the twisting tunnels. She could follow the branches in paths that seemed to lead upward. And if there weren’t enough, some energy had to be used to produce her own light. Her flame sac coughed each time that had to happen.

Another unfortunate outcome of being underground was that whatever she found would not be enough to keep her going for long. The worms kept her moving —she never had to worry if they were too toxic and the ones that were made themselves flamboyant— the plants were inedible —So was bread; she never had to worry about getting actual food. If she found a rat that didn’t scurry away at her light or some mole that didn’t burrow away, she might get enough to carry her to the surface.

Every now and then, she’d let herself be still, taking in the sounds and smells around her. She’d hoped for the echoing of footsteps or the rumbling of something digging close by. Taps came from the distance, she closed her eyes to listen closer. It had some weight, maybe the size of a deer. She held her breath, hoping to find the direction it was coming. In the path she was walking, maybe a bit to the right. Her feet fell in the muted tune meant for solid stone. Foliage only made her approach all the more silent. She closed in on it, feeling its unwary aura come into focus. Its steps gave the impression it had nothing to worry about. It couldn’t have been aware of her… yet.

Yaro inched closer to the beast, well within range to lung and tackle it, whatever it was. She could feel its aura more clearly, more controlled than a simple beast. The sounds of wet munching and a feeling of hunger hung heavy in her. Similar to most semi-intelligent beasts, it emanated an emotion most came to know as ‘keep away’. A mix of boredom, angst, and fire that only those who were smart enough to mix yet stupid enough to not know to look for others. It stomped, its hoof hitting the floor to let others know not to mess with it.

Yaro knew she should get as close as possible before letting her presence be known. If she could quickly get to its neck, everything would be over without much of a struggle. But where was it’s neck? With hooves, intelligence, and solitude, it was likely to be a faun or an alsow? It was also underground, not where either of those made their homes. Creatures underground either had claws to dig with or swam through the dirt. That, she knew. Maybe it was some other creature, hoofed and able to quarry? She needed to know, to quickly snap its neck.

Any closer and she would give herself away. With her palms burning, she pounced at the creature. Light flushed the cavern, along with its memories she’d never wanted to see again. The creature before her; the Alsow; horned, lean, afraid, and enraged; drove its pin feet into her chest. After piercing either side of her stomach, it sent her flying backwards. Her anger screamed, unwilling to come to her palms fully. She watched it bound away into the darkness.

“Kak, to Yon, Kak Kak,” she cursed, watching the cave return to absolute darkness. She’d never been so stupid to come up behind it. She moved to lick her wounds shut. She’d not only let it get away, but she'd cost herself energy. She’d be even slower the next hunt.

Was she slow? She stood, replaying what had happened in her mind. She couldn’t have let it do this to her so easily. In fact, she didn’t come up behind it. In the light, she saw it turn, rear up at her while she looked on, dumbfounded. She’d let herself be known, possibly? Her presence, some people, with only a bit more aural awareness than most, always spotted her. Alternatively, she might just not be as good as she remembered. The self she once controlled could have been different in her memories.

It was that she wasn’t cut out for hunting. She’d returned to the city for a reason. “It’s so much easier stealing,” She muttered, stepping back into her pace. She might not eat yet, but she could still try to get to the surface. And, if not that, to another town. Preferably both.

While it would be easiest to steal, she instead had to plan. Who would she come across, where were the best places to hide if the town laid underground, what time was it? If she had to hunt, she wouldn’t go after something so large, at least while underground. If she came to the surface, she could look for tracks she might be familiar with, like that of a deer.

She walked further into the tunnels. At each branching path, she took the one that seemed to lead upwards. There were surprisingly few ascending paths. While some had staircases a few steps to a floor up, they would inevitably have a ramp, stars, or collapsed path that led her back down. Collapsed paths were the worst, which were less prevalent in the darker, greater amount of ancient architecture, and less life conducive areas.

It would be much easier to stick to the darker paths, if she had the available energy. Sticking to the overgrowth never seemed to lead upwards. The beings who dug the tunnels, now inhabited by squatters, didn’t care about the sayk. The city’s tunnels, they would routinely link the upper and lower portions. So why wasn’t she finding that access? She would have been frustrated, if her eyes weren’t so heavy.

And whose fault is that? she chastised. She plucked another glowing worm as it tried to climb the flat wall. After inspecting it for spines, she put it to the back of her throat and swallowed it whole. She shuddered, the taste still there despite the lack of contact; the slime of the worm lingering on her tongue. She needed to keep going.

The darkness, the more it cradled her, the more friendly she became with it. The path was mostly free of debris, save a few pebbles and roots. By picking up her feet in a tall march, she could avoid the worst of the tripping. She refused to create light, her hands nearly blistered from the Yon-bound alsow.

She worried further, past the immediate threat of eating and contact. She didn’t know where she traveled or the direction she headed. Getting above ground could give her one of those directions based on where the band of the sayk or zuyg reach in the sky. She could at least make sure she traveled south. For all she knew, she could be circled back around to head back to that city. It would be more difficult to escape from them the next time she came.

It wouldn’t be like a map would help her either. Mapping the surface was hard enough, the underground was too vast, too labyrinthine, and too untraveled for the millennia. She held up her hands, as if she held the cloth directions. She’d be able to read the map, as she’d done so many times during her youth. She’d gotten good at visualizing a building just by its floor plans. Where a bed was likely to be, where a dresser might be used to impede pursuers if knocked over. People were so predictable. Another look at her hands and she felt ill. She could see them.

She could see them? She looked up; there was light! The oppressive darkness, it stepped aside for a ribbon of yellow, like warriors for a general. The general called to command, bringing joyous news. Yaro could feel it, a soft cheer of victory, comradery, a funny joke.

She ducked down, halting her breathing and focusing her eyes. The darkness hushed to her senses. No one. She couldn’t believe no one was around. The feelings, they were too strong for no one to be around. Yet, she could neither feel, see, hear, or even smell larger life. Just the plants, fungi, and scattered tiny animals.

Her mind raced. The light, it was too steady for an arrant fire, too bright for passive bioluminescence, too maintained for a being creating it themselves. Her mind wanted to say it was the light of a tavern, a rich street, a home, the light of a civilized area. But there was no one, no hints of intelligent life was around her. Sure, they could be hiding their aura. But there was no artificial smell, no sound of talking, no warmth of comfort, no movement. As far as she could tell, she was alone.

Keeping quiet, presence closed, and breath limited, she sidled towards the light. It beckoned from around a sharp corner. She donned her mask and cloak, her preferential vision became blocked by the cheaper mask –simple eye slits. She stood taller and readied her voice for diplomacy. She made sure her vocal cords were plenty spit-lined, not wanting to sound too dry. 

The area around her, ancient stone, metal, and white solidity in rounding shapes became visible as she rounded the corner. The light shone from another turn not far ahead, this time to the right. She felt happy, happier than she’d been in a season. She tried to stop herself from imagining the people having food. If she could convince them she was a weary traveler, they might give her a bit of hospitality. Or, at least make off with something before being chased. Did she have the energy to fight if there were people? She could simply ask for directions, not worrying about food. Her stomach didn’t like the idea.

She nearly talked herself out of rounding the next corner. She had to be stealthy, to scout out the area before intruding. She felt such joy, such elation that they slipped her mind. The light overwhelmed her, blocking out any rational thought. It was her instincts, the covering of her dilated eyes that brought sanity back.

“Raised to Tukk,” she breathed, jaw refusing to come back up. No intelligent or even semi-intelligent creature could be around. If they were, they would surely have taken it already. Before her, held in a glass fixture on the ceiling, a mass of golden light shone. Purity. A more distilled light than she’d ever witnessed in her life welcomed her into a closed room.

She took back just enough of her awareness to realize it wasn’t just any room. In the corner rose a metal frame where a bed might have gone. In another, the wall sunk in where doors might have guarded a closet. Some rooms in the ancient city could have their uses discerned, none so much as this bedroom. Whoever died so long ago, so unimportant was their wealth that they kept just above them jyk, a pure element, a piece of the saykzuyg itself.

She didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. It was not her fortune to be able to come across something like that. Assiduity needed to be had, proof she hadn’t died. The overwhelming joy, the alertness of her sense, the uplifting and charisma all around, it begged to convince her contrary. A piece of the sky had been plucked to light someone’s sleeping chambers. Impossible.

Even with the solidity of the walls, she couldn’t be sure she’d be alone. Maybe it was a trap, an illusion set to bait stupid creatures. She kept her senses open, her muscles tensed in preparation to bolt. Each step towards the fixture felt like hitting a spring but keeping it from releasing.

She knew she should worry, and she did, a strange kind of worry that straddled excitement. She bound her steps smooth, her eyes constantly turning over her shoulder. She felt like she could be startled by any kind of movement to which none reared up.

She stood under the fixture, cheeks throbbing from an unwanted smile. Meaningless wires sprouted from the ceiling, coiling around the light fixture. Some were broken, dangling like vines who’ve yet to grow enough to reach the floor. They reached for her, she responded by grabbing one. She let her robe fall to the ground as she hefted herself up with a beat of the wings. Grabbing the wires ensnaring the fixture, she darted her eyes to look for enemies. 

No one.

She tried to peer in the glass, only greeted with light and phosphates. She raised her fist, claws pushed together to make a sort of drill, muscles wound tighter and tighter. She gritted her teeth, pulled back, then sent her meteor into the globe.

Fear burst from the bubble, forced away before she had a chance to react to the un-joy. The forces of Yon flew to the walls, vanishing under the thousands of spears of Tukk’s soldiers. Yaro grabbed for those soldiers, taking their reserves in her fist. She ripped them free, her hand shaking from the burning. She could handle this, she’d handled her own flames, she could stand being burned. But this, the pain, the wonderful jubilant pain, it was far more awesome than even the brightest flame.

Letting go would mean defeat, would mean the end of her happiness. Clutching the condensed light, she could not let her happiness go, she would not let it go. Memories of her Atho were forced out, unbidden. Even the time she spent with him, could not induce this amount of happiness in her. 

Delight and awareness consumed. She felt powerful, able to sense even the plants around her, able to feel the aura to the shape of a worm. It was like she’d been under a dull filter her entire life, the grit only now being washed away. The emotions, joy, fear, disgust, surprise, sorrow, anger, all were known to her. She could sense the surface, not nearly as far above her as she thought, lined with grasses and trees. The Alsow she found earlier, it now alertly roamed further below her.

This substance, what she kept in her grasp, it truly was jyk. It was light, it was yellow, it was happiness, it was sense, it was Tukk brought to the mortal realm. And she felt it in her very being, ricochet up her arm and throughout her body. 

It was too much..

Her stupidity, ineptitude, arrogance, fortune, all came together to shatter her. She dropped the light.

She jumped after it, diving for it as it hurtled to the ground. She wasn’t swift enough. It shattered, breaking in a flash that blinded her as she crashed into the hard stone. She hurt; nothing was broken.

The light escaped the room, racing down the hallway she’d come. The room returned to how she found it, illuminated but not obscured. Underneath her, between bloodied arms, twinkled the remnant of the light. Magic of the ancients must be keeping it from scattering completely, only slowly decaying.

She felt the effects die away, the perception of aura shrink and become filthy once more. Her happiness dwindled into the true pain her hands grappled with. Her ascension to Tukk had come crashing back down, reminding her she belonged in Yon.

She wanted to grab it once more, to never be unhappy again. She almost did, her blackened hand reminding her of the consequences. She needed to take care of that immediately.

With her teeth, she ripped the charcoal from her palms. The proximity to the joy helped a little, and so did her experience. The pain still had her shriek. She swallowed, unwilling to let anything go to waste. Then came the licking, the stinging, the tiring growth of new tissue. She couldn’t feel tired by the time she’d finished one hand, she had the other one to do.

This, the treasure granted to her unwarranted and illegitimate, she would keep it. With her holder, she formed it into grey smoke. That wasn’t what happened. Grey smoke swirled around it, taking the air into her holder. The jyk itself was too large, too intense, too immense in its purity.

Yaro found her cloak nearby and rolled it over the light. She needed to think. It couldn’t have been larger than five fuur worth of flame; it was a tremendous amount. She knew this treasure would be worth more than five thousand. She could not leave it here, not with how much it could get her. She took a breath, trying to allow her other emotions to help judge the situation. Hunger said she could get food, sorrow told her she could pay the greatest farseers, surprise told her she could keep it for herself. Anger told her leaving it was not an option.

Her cloak remained over it, not burning it. Of course light, for its immense heat, did not act like fire. It wasn’t fire. She didn’t know it. 

She couldn’t tell how, in all the thousands of years, no one had found this yet. She couldn’t have gotten too far from a city, there even was a semi-intelligent being nearby. How the jyk had gone un-pilfered was a mystery, one that didn’t need to be solved.

She had great wealth now. She would have to find someone in the black market to trade her for it, if she didn’t keep it for herself. Of course, she’ll be ripped off. That would be the price to pay for having such a valuable artifact and no questions of its origins. However, whatever she may get would be more money than she ever had or ever will have.

Selling it may not be the correct path. She felt the urge to take off her cloak, let herself bask in the unrivaled glee. She could sense anyone around, always be prepared for any kind of attack. And the energy, the overflowing will to do things, it could keep her moving. She could make it to the surface without food or water, just her treasure.

Yaro closed her eyes and put her cloak on, wrapping the power in the hood behind her head. Her eyes opened to the shadow of her crooked horns in the divot. She could, until she came back to civilization, use it to see. And the energy it gave her, it would be enough to actually get food. Despite it making her feel things and her senses widen, her body still didn’t fully obey, her wings still ached, she still hungered, she was still exhausted. It was like her mind was attached to a battery that sent overpowering pulses through dulled circuitry.

She would have to find food eventually. She couldn’t keep something so bright hidden forever. It would only make her a bigger, brighter target.

She moved towards the door, down the corridor, and back to the split. She followed the path lower into the ground, away from the surface. The light was so close to her, she could feel distanced with the layer of grass. It felt wrong to go further down. The life in this tunnel didn’t end.

She’d make it to the next town, she could feel multiple wide auras in the furthest reaches of her strengthened sense. She now had the energy to continue, however fake it was.