Revenge is Always Sweeter on the Other side

Then, without warning, a sinister laugh echoed throughout the stone world.

"Little elf boy, who are you looking for? You’ll find no one in this maze of death, little elf boy!" It was impossible to tell where the sound had come from; the words bounced off walls and cliff faces, playing through his mind several times before finally diminishing into silence again.

Painstakingly, Dal walked still, no longer in search of anything in particular, save perhaps something different from what he had already seen. The maze was impossibly complex, and nothing seemed to make sense. He had been an expert tracker for over a hundred years; he had navigated every terrain known to man with little to no difficulty, ranging everywhere from dense marshlands to impregnable forests, Dal had navigated safely through deserts and grasslands, and now, after so many battles and so many dangers, to die of starvation in some god-forsaken cavern, bereft of everything save the red dust which clung to his clothes, arms, and face.

On the fourth day of Dal’s journey, surprisingly, he came across Auren’s trail. There was no mistaking it; there was no false trails leading away from it, nor traps lay before it. There it was, in plain sight. Dal took up the chase immediately.

For over a week, Dal tracked his quarry relentlessly, using newfound strength of mind seeing as how he had become the hunter, and it was only a matter of time before he caught up with the enemy. When he did catch up with Auren on the twelfth day in the underground caverns, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Dal crept soundlessly into a large dome shaped cavern that stretched in all directions for what seemed like miles. Several tunnels lead away from the mammoth room, similar to the one from which Dal had just entered. Cautiously, the archer sneaked through the entrance on cat’s paws, his bow held ready in front of him. As he neared the center of the cavern, the trail abruptly stopped. No tracks moved away from where he stood, the trail simply vanished. Stunned, Dal backtracked, searching futilely for any sign of a false trail. None. Then came the rumbling sound. It started low at first, then quickly grew in volume until the entire cavern was shaking violently with the force of the trembling. From all around him, rockslides tumbled down the cliff sides. The crunch of rocks and stones as they slammed into each other and shattered under the impact was deafening. As suddenly as it had begun, the dust began to settle, revealing the outcome of the rockslide; nearly every entrance had caved in, glass-like rock fragments littered the ground, giving the cavern a surreal look of a battlefield.

From out of the dust a figured stepped out to confront Dal. For a moment, the two of them just stared. Each man the only living thing the other had seen in days. Dal’s bow remained lowered as he stared horrifically at the man across the cavern floor from him. A hideous, devilish smile covered his face and his maddened eyes darted throughout the cavern. He too held a bow and it looked as though he were about to break down into convulsing, hysterical laughter as if this had all been some childish game.

Then the two moved. Two arrows zipped across the distance in a fraction of a second as both archers attempted to capitalize on their opponent’s hesitation. Auren threw himself to the side even as Dal drew a dagger just in time to barely deflect the speeding arrow. The stalemate continued as each archer fought to gain control.