Chapter Text
Lumine breathes slowly. A single breath in, hold, a single breath out. Hold again for as long as physically possible, then repeat. One breath in. Hold. One breath out. Hold. Repeat.
She no longer thinks, allowing her brain to melt away into the cold, dark space she resides in. Thinking takes up energy, oxygen. She no longer sees. Perceiving takes up energy, oxygen. She no longer moves. Moving takes up energy, oxygen.
Lumine is a perfectly still statue in the dark, her only movements being the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest, spaced out as long as her body will allow her. Anyone who saw her would immediately think she’d have died. Anyone who even wanted to see her would probably die themselves before they ever reached her; there's no mortal alive that could move the tons and tons of rock burying Lumine.
It’s in these moments, where Lumine intakes as little oxygen as possible, that she truly appreciates not being fully human. She may not quite be a god, not needing to breathe at all, but her unique celestial birth came with a few perks. Namely, her wings, matter manipulation, and, for these instances, less dependence on mortal processes, like breathing.
She still breathes and takes in oxygen, of course, but any human in her position would have died long ago. There simply isn’t enough oxygen in this small space to breathe, and an average mortal breathes at much too rapid a rate to space out their intake enough. Only the absolutely most dedicated, masterful humans can breathe as slowly as she can, and even then they take deeper breaths than her, meaning they’d still be taking in too much oxygen to properly survive.
That is not to say this came naturally to her, though. She had been thrust into one too many trials by fire to hone her ability, slowly chipping away at the fear that burned inside her, the reliance she had come to overdepend on. Even now, the familiar creep of claustrophobia encroaches on her heart. Long ago, she had known the feeling intimately.
Lumine desperately hopes she can keep it at bay this time.
Aether holds her tightly to him as she shakes violently. She’s desperately trying to breathe, gasping at nothing. Her vision is far past blurry, the tears bubbling up flowing freely, clouding her vision, and she no longer consciously recognizes her surroundings. That is, if there were any surroundings to perceive.
The fear she feels is unlike anything she ever has before. It burns vividly, igniting her inmost reactions, her very core itself. It’s rooted deep within her, pumping her full of whatever chemicals it can create, whatever it can circulate. Anything to get her to air.
Her brain processes speed up, a last-ditch effort at survival. Though her eyes can’t see much, she looks around frantically, searching for anything that could provide her with air. The only thing she perceives, though, is the inky blackness of the void. There is no light, no shadow, no space, no time. There is no air.
She grips Aether’s hands tighter, and he, in turn, squeezes them more firmly around her abdomen. But she’s not scared of falling. She just needs to breathe. She tries to look up at him, but without light, she sees nothing. Lumine’s brain regresses into panic. She begins to rapidly beat against his arms, willing him to drop her. Maybe if she falls far enough, she’ll reach an atmosphere.
Her lungs burn, the feeling of emptiness turning to one of excruciating pain. If there were air to breathe, she’s sure she would be hacking and coughing on it, but all she can do here is weakly imitate gasping. Her mouth wide open, her eyes stretched out. In the moment, she doesn’t recognize herself shaking anymore, but she vibrates even more intensely, her entire body struggling to break free, to find air, to survive.
She starts to feel the heat now. It begins at the base of her spine, slowly razing up like a wildfire until it burns across the back of her neck. The steady whoosh of celestial space screaming past her cuts out all at once, and her ears are overtaken by the ringing of her blood pounding up against her eardrums. It’s steady at first, then begins to dip to a lower pitch as her body starts to still, one limb at a time.
She notices it as her arms give out, suddenly stilling as her body begins to cut off anything using energy. Lumine realizes that she can’t move her head, and she realizes her legs aren’t responding. She’s fairly certain that she’s fallen into complete anoxia, a total deprivation of all oxygen. She’s out of time, and can no longer struggle. She knows that her brain is next to go.
Lumine wishes she could’ve enjoyed her final moments. She always knew the dangers of what she and Aether did: one wrong turn and suddenly you’re hopping into an endless void. It’s not a painless death, but at least it’s a relatively quick one. Better than freezing to death in the vacuum of a universe, she supposes. It doesn’t give her much solace.
Lumine feels a sudden weightlessness as Aether’s arms suddenly let go. And now she’s falling, falling down, down, down. She’s always liked flying, and falling is really just a facet of it. But she will not enjoy this flight, for it is her last. And with the final thought of how she never even got to say goodbye, her consciousness begins to fade out.
Lumine’s eyes begin to close slowly, blinking wearily once, then twice, and then…
Abruptly, light floods her vision. Her back slams into something below her, a surface. Her limbs are forced back as gravity takes hold again. Her body bounces rigidly off the floor and she relishes the familiar feeling of weight again. And suddenly, she can breathe.
Her gasp is one of the loudest sounds she’s ever heard come from her mouth. She’s always been soft-spoken, preferring the quiet and stillness of comfortable conversation. But now, as her brain slowly flicks back to life, the sharp intake of breath easily beats any sound she’s ever made. Air fills her lungs, permeating through her body as oxygen floods her tissues.
Her breath catches, and she begins coughing violently, hacking up anything and everything that’s in her lungs. Blood and tissue spray out of her mouth with each spasm, shooting up into the air above her and quickly falling back down, coating her face and the ground around her.
Her arms use the only strength they have to push her body up enough to roll over, her hands and knees coming up below her in a sort of kneel, trying futilely to keep her up. Her body is racked with cough after cough, spasm after spasm, but at least she’s not spraying blood all over her face now.
She finally sucks in a second gasp between coughs, the air filling her lungs again and inflating her chest. It catches again, and she’s thrown into another fit, her arms beginning to shake, threatening to give out under her.
Swiftly, Aether is there, pounding a fist up against her back. He kneels beside her, pulling her hair back and up as he tries to force the gore from her lungs so she can breathe again. It seems to work, as Lumine is slowly able to gasp more and more regularly. Eventually, she coughs up the final bits of her torn apart insides and gasps freely, delighting in the oxygen filling her lungs repeatedly.
The taste of copper permeates through her mouth and throat, a stream of blood continuing to flow from her mouth. The air she breathes now is tainted by the taste too, but right now, she couldn’t care less. She smiles, an almost maniacal grin coming to her face as her breathing begins to slow down gradually. She’s alive. The taste of her blood reminds her of that.
Her arms finally do begin to give out as her muscles scream at her to rest. Aether rubs comforting circles on her back as he begins to lay her down on her side. Her body gives out as she comes to relax. She thinks maybe she’ll never move again.
She looks up at Aether kneeling over her. He doesn’t look amazing either, but it seems he got off better than her. She only sees a little blood dribbling down his chin, though he does pant heavily. Her eyes slowly slide shut as exhaustion forces itself into her body.
She lets herself begin to fall into the deep confines of sleep, feeling Aether lie down next to her, his breathing slowing down as well. She makes sure to leave her mouth open, though, letting the blood still coming up join the murder scene next to her.
The familiar inky blackness creeps in slowly, warping and twisting as it fits itself perfectly against her, covering Lumine in nothingness. It molds around her body, accepting the newcomer as its own. As she opens her eyes, Lumine comes to realize that she can no longer perceive herself. She can perceive a whole ton of rock and dust, though.
She realizes that moving would be a death sentence, so she remains in her stationary position: legs pulled in underneath her, left arm splayed across her lap, and her right one held in its prison locked at an angle above her. She can acutely feel each pressure up against her body, but she dare not shift, no matter how uncomfortable. After so many years in positions like these, Lumine has certainly learned her lesson.
Don’t. Move.
Any and all energy not related to breathing is wasted, gone forever. And when there’s only a finite amount of energy in her, no matter how hopeless it may seem, the best option is always to attempt to wait it out. To wait for help. To wait for Aether.
And so she waits. And waits. And waits longer. Her eyes shut again as her breaths become sparser. She can feel the air around her becoming stale. It’s a rather small space, so Lumine can’t imagine that the oxygen will last much longer. But she’d much rather suffer the effects of underbreathing than using her supply too quickly and suffocating.
Suffocation. It’s something that Lumine has come to know well. Something she’s become familiar with. Each and every travel into the void involves it in some capacity, really. Most jumps only take a few seconds, so it feels more like holding her breath for a short amount of time. But the times that take longer, the instances where they are stranded in the void, they involve suffocation to the highest degree. There is no oxygen in that place. No atmosphere, no air. There is nothing but the steady hum of celestial particles radiating through nothingness.
But here, buried, in this small pocket of luckiness that Lumine resides in, there is air. It feel inherently different, being able to breathe in a place similar to the void. Each and every breath is a solace, an intense relief. It reminds her that she is still alive. It reminds her that, while this place resembles celestial space, it is not.
This place is earthy, and innately mortal. There may not be much, but there is still oxygen. There is rock, stone, dirt, light, and dark. All things that do not exist in the space between worlds. Lumine can smell, and see, and hear. All things that she cannot do in the void. It all reminds her that she is still alive. Struggling against the fate that lays in front of her. Surviving.
She closes her eyes again.
Aether grabs Lumine’s shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. She turns her head, giving him a quizzical look as she gestures in front of her towards the small door in front of them, to the place she is going. She raises an eyebrow, silently asking “What’s wrong?”
Aether takes a deep breath, mutely glancing between her and the door. He looks her in the eye, squeezing down slightly on her shoulder. “Lumine,” he says, his voice calm and soft, but still grave in tone. “Are you going to be alright with this? We can still find another way.”
Lumine looks away, back towards the door, and then taking in their surroundings. She kicks at the ground once before turning back to Aether, fully facing him now. “Aether,” she starts, sighing. “We don’t have another choice. We’re out of time.”
Aether squeezes her shoulder once again. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s always another choice. We can still figure out where the other entrance is, or we could just create our own way down. Hell, we could just world hop if-” Lumine cuts him off, putting one finger over his mouth. His eyes are frantic, desperate for Lumine to just tell him that she’ll find another way. Unfortunately for him, they really are out of time.
“It’ll be okay,” she says softly, almost whispering. Her eyes soften, gazing warmly at him. “I’ll be okay.” She’s not too sure if she believes that, in all honesty, but she’s resigned to her decision. “We’re here to help them, remember? We agreed we’d do what it takes.”
Aether closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He won’t cry now, not while they have a world to save. But he sure as hell wants to. He sighs deeply, reopening his eyes and looking down at the ground. “I know,” he says. “I just,” he pauses to think, kicking gently at the ground. It’s something of a habit between the two of them. He looks back up at her. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? We don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t know how bad it’ll be.”
Aether grabs both of Lumine’s hands and clutches them in front of him. He can feel her trembling a little. “I just want you to be safe,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to go through the same thing as last time.” Lumine looks down at their clasped hands between them. She breathes a heavy breath out, turning her hands so she can grab his as well, holding them tightly.
“I know,” she says, still staring at their hands. “I don’t know what’ll happen either. I don’t know how I’ll react. But I have to do this. We both know that I’m the only one who can, and we just don’t have the time to try something different.”
Aether sighs once more, admitting to himself that she’s right. He recognizes that they both need to get moving very soon. He takes one last look at the door beside them now. He winces, pained at just the thought of Lumine suffering beyond them, and being unable to do anything against it.
He gives her hands a squeeze, looking up at her one last time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “I trust you. And I believe in you. Remember your breathing, okay?” His gaze is pained, desperate, and willing Lumine to back out and flee with him, even if it means leaving this world to burn. But he knows she won’t.
“Okay,” she accepts, nodding once before squeezing his hands quickly and releasing them. She takes a step back and turns back to the door. “I’ll do my best.” She steps towards the door, hand reaching out and grabbing the handle. She turns back to him before opening it. “Don’t die?” she requests, a common parting phrase the twins have come to use often.
Aether chuckles softly, turning his back to her and stepping out towards the exit. He knows she’ll survive, she always does, but he wonders just how much pain she’ll have to suffer to meet him on the other side. Any amount is too much, in his opinion.
He raises a hand above his shoulder, giving a light wave as his wings materialize behind him. “Don’t die,” he whispers as he takes the final step to the door leading outside. “Don’t you dare die, Lumine.” He opens the door in front of him, letting light spill into the small hallway they’ve been in.
Aether doesn’t turn back. He doesn’t want her to see the tears streaming down his face. He knows that the Lumine that meets him on the other side won’t be the same as the one behind him. But for now, he’s got a world to save.
Lumine chuckles at Aether’s dramatic exit. “Whatever, crybaby!” she calls out after him before the door he stepped out of swings shut behind him. She knows he heard her.
She turns back to the door in front of her. Her hand still holds the handle in front of her, but she can’t quite bring herself to pull it yet. She breathes in once, then out once. She wills her nerves to calm, to slow the pumping of her blood.
Now, in this silent, dim, narrow room, she’s beginning to feel the familiar creep of anxiety encroach upon her. She’s never had to deal with it without Aether, and she knows how bad it gets even with him. Here, with the promise of nothing but pain in front of her, it’s beginning to rage up, clouding her vision for a second before she blinks it away and breathes deeply again. She’s not even in the damn room yet.
Before she can psyche herself out, she yanks on the handle and steps forward into the next room. She takes two steps forward before the door slams shut behind her, throwing her into total darkness.
Peering into nothingness, and tasting the staleness of the air, she regrets her decision immediately. She turns back to the door, but as she steps towards it, the ground underneath her begins to rumble, and the platform she’s standing on descends.
And so her own personal nightmare begins.
Lumine, somewhere in the back of her subconscious mind, buried under tons and tons of loose rock, begins to realize that she may be going insane. Perhaps delirious would be a better term, but a lack of sufficient oxygen paired with total darkness and silence is certainly a recipe for mental regression.
She’s fairly certain that she’s never gone this long in an environment that flares her claustrophobia, so perhaps it really isn’t all that surprising. Still, the territory past this point is completely uncharted, and not even Lumine knows what will happen now. If she doesn’t die soon, her claustrophobia will surely spike to untold heights, even if she has gotten it under control in recent years.
Lumine swallows thickly, the sound of the fluids sloshing down her throat painfully loud as her ears heighten any sound she makes. She can hear the blood pulsing through her veins, up and down, in and out through her ears. She feels the steady thumping of her heart, beat beat beating in a rhythm that ensures her vital organs keep working. If it weren’t so damn loud, Lumine would thank her heart for doing its job.
All the sounds in this tiny space bounce into the tiny cracks between the rocks, slowly vibrating out of existence as they lose energy, effectively creating a crude anechoic chamber. Lumine’s been in something like one once before, and she remembers it as a very unpleasant experience, though maybe that was just the claustrophobia talking.
Her ears have been ringing for a long time now, as she hasn’t made any sound in around a dozen hours. Her own breathing is the loudest thing in this space, but it hardly alleviates any of the discomfort in her ears. Still, it does give her some solace each time a breath comes in and out, her ears latching onto the soundwaves for the precious seconds they exist before they are absorbed into the cracks in the walls.
It’s funny, really. If Lumine thought about it, she’d realize how hopeless her situation is. She’d recognize how ironic it is, being one born of nothing, returned to nothing. Almost like this was her fate all along. She’d remember each instance where she had experienced the anxiety of claustrophobia. Perhaps it had been a warning all along.
Perhaps her claustrophobia was something she had developed at birth for a reason. Maybe it was a warning to her, cautioning against the thing that would eventually take her life. Each and every instance that had led up to this point had seemed like something that she must overcome, conquer, but perhaps they were all situations Lumine had been meant to run from. Even now, Lumine recognizes that if she had just turned around and left at the first spikes of warning, she’d be well and alive, breathing fresh air.
Somewhere in Lumine’s delirious consciousness, she thinks she begins to hear Aether’s voice, whispering how stupid she had been to come this far into unknown territory. How worried he was when she had stepped forward into the darkness. How many times he had warned her against walking into places like these. How he would never be able to see her again because of her decisions.
Lumine frowns, contemplating answering him. She wants to explain to him why she felt the need to overcome her faults, but she’s not sure she would be able to find the words. And it would be a waste of energy. Yes, energy, that’s something she needs to conserve, isn’t it? Probably best if she didn’t answer the voice whispering in her ears.
The ringing returns, and Aether’s voice slowly becomes nothing but a past memory. Lumine has no need for memory where she’s going.
Lumine’s arm begins to ache more sharply than before, still trapped in its prison at an awkard angle above her. When the earth had first come crashing down upon her, her arm had been pinched between two rather large rocks that had stopped just over her. She’s thankful they hadn’t torn her arm right off, but the increased energy needed to pump her blood upwards was certainly doing her no good.
Lumine shifts slightly, allowing herself to use a miniscule amount of energy. Though using her energy was a risk, leaving her arm in pain was arguably a greater one. She’s pretty sure she’s going to die down here either way, so she’s willing to let herself off this once.
Either way, for now Lumine must remain trapped, buried under who knows how much rock and rubble, unable to do so much as call for help. The hopelessness of it all would probably break her spirits if she allowed herself to think about it, but luckily she’s known how to switch off her consciousness for a while now.
So she does not think. She does not move. She does not see, she does not hear. She only breathes. A slow, steady, hopeless breathing.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. Repeat.
Lumine’s consciousness begins to slip as the air around her runs out of oxygen to give her.
She’s going to die down here, isn’t she?
Lumine’s breathing rapidly elevates in pace as the door she’s facing slowly leaves her vision, the platform underneath her rumbling as it begins to move down. She lunges for the door, but she’s much too late to catch it. Her hand brushes against the handle, but within a second, her window is gone, and the roof falls past it. She falls to the ground, mind racing as she rethinks her decisions.
She’s hyperventilating now, her hands coming up to grip at the sides of her head. She pulls at her hair, mentally berating herself for being so stupid. So stupid! How did she ever think she was going to do this without Aether? He’s always been there, every single time. Always there to grip her hands as she shakes, shuddering for air. Always there to comfort her when the anxiety rages within her.
Now, she’s here, falling on a platform rapidly descending into who knows what, the darkness around her enveloping her entire being. She knows there will be no light where she’s going. Just narrow, close, small rooms and tall walls. She’s here, in this tiny shaft into the deepest recesses of this world, the walls closing in on her. She’s here alone.
The fear floods her, overtaking her mind as she frantically looks around, yet she perceives nothing. It’s much too dark to see. She shoots up, lunging for the walls. She pounds against them, screaming into the air only she will ever breathe.
Her hands desperately run across the wall she’s facing, searching for anything. A mechanism to stop her descent, a switch for light, anything. Her hands find nothing but smooth stone, and she cries out in desperation. Her hand snaps to the right and she dives to the next wall. She continues searching in a frenzy, her hands exploring every bit of surface there is.
Repeatedly, she finds nothing. She searches the faces of all four walls, shrieking to herself as her scrutiny comes up short. She falls back to the ground, desperate, hunting there instead. She pounds her hands again and again against the floor beneath her when she finds nothing, wailing.
Hot tears flow freely from her eyes, staining the hard stone beneath her. They burn as they run down her cheeks, dripping away to mark the floor with her fear. Her head snaps up, down, left, right, rechecking for anything she may have missed many a time. Though her vision is clouded, her eyes slowly adjust, and she is able to truly perceive just how small a room she’s in.
The walls seem to close in on her as she recognizes just how dark the corners of this room are. She rapidly scoots herself backwards, pressing herself back into the wall behind her. The walls inch ever closer, Lumine’s mind running wild at the realization. She breathes ever fast, one hand coming to clutch at her heart as she tries to sink further into the surface behind her.
She gets a gasp in, suddenly able to think for a split second. Her head jerks left and she lurches for a corner, turning and shoving her head into the space where the walls meet. She crouches, holding her head as she bows it, closing her eyes and counting in her head. Up to ten, back down. Up to ten, back down. Rapid at first, then gradually slowing.
The technique is something that Aether taught her after her last panic attack. The second she’s allowed to think, she’s supposed to flood her mind with nothing but numbers, up to ten, back down, trying to match them with her breaths. She keeps her eyes closed and body folded so she can minimize any external stimuli, letting only the thoughts in her mind exist.
The room she’s in does not exist. The darkness within does not exist. She is not falling down, down, down. The walls trapping her here do not exist. There is only her, the numbers, and her breaths. Up to ten. Down to one. Up to ten. Down to one.
Slowly, her breathing steadies. She remains focused on the numbers, but she can now feel the rapid beating of her heart. She knows it’s definitely a problem, so she continues to breathe deeply, counting only numbers. Her focus remains pinpointed on the only task that matters here and now, in this little coffin of hers: Up to ten, down to one.
Lumine’s hands eventually loosen, the steady rumble of the platform moving beneath her coming back to her consciousness. Her heart begins to slow, returning to a normal, steady beating. She slowly opens her eyes, still perceiving nothing but black, but at least it’s something. She gradually straightens, standing up on shaky legs, heavily leaning against the walls on either side of her.
She sighs deeply, letting her mind return to her. This kind of situation isn’t new to her, but she’s pretty sure that’s the worst it’s ever been. She supposes she’s extremely lucky to have had Aether with her every time it’s happened before. He’s always able to cover her ears with his arms and obscure her vision with his hands, then count for her, whispering in the tiny pocket of space he creates himself.
Aether has become somewhat of a master at helping Lumine through these, always knowing exactly how to calm her down. She’s lucky to have been able to remember Aether’s guidance this time, but she’s terrified of what happens next time, if she doesn’t remember.
Lumine drops her face into her hands, turning around and pressing her back up into the corner before sliding down to the floor. She wipes away at her tears, softly sniffling as she rubs at her eyes. She’s still scared, but she feels marginally better now that she can think somewhat clearly again.
She heaves a deep breath, gently peeking between her fingers, peering back into the dark room. Her anxiety spikes up, but she wrangles it back down, forcing herself to stay calm. She decides that perhaps it’s better not to look as she slides her eyes closed again.
She simply breathes for a while, allowing herself time to think, but not allowing any more fear to enter her system. She’s not too sure exactly how much time passes, but eventually the rumbling sound deepens as the platform slows.
She recognizes that it must be coming to a stop, and pushes herself up to stand and walk to the center of the room as it does so. The platform connects to the floor beneath with an audible clunk, the sound resounding outside. Lumine can tell that what comes next is not going to be something she enjoys. She just hopes that this time she can keep herself under control.
One of the walls beside her slides down into the ground, opening an entrance for her. She sees nothing but the same darkness, and squints for a second, willing her eyes to adjust. She steps forwards, out into the corridor before her. The air feels the same: still stale, empty, and cold.
It seems to be a long hallway from what Lumine can feel as she drags her hand along the wall. She eventually comes to a divergence in the passage, recognizing the T-split she faces. Lumine thinks for a second, before realizing she has nothing to go off of, and turns left arbitrarily. She continues onward as her eyes gradually begin to adjust to the darkness.
Her hand still runs against the right wall, and as she walks forward she comes to feel another opening to her right. The hall continues straight, but Lumine considers turning, seeking to go the opposite direction of the entrance. She finally decides that, yes, she will turn again, and steps into the darkness beyond.
She keeps her hand up, hoping to feel anything that might explain where exactly she is, and what exactly she should do. She takes a few more steps, walking in silence before she comes to another intersection. This time, it’s a four-way crossing.
Lumine’s eyes widen in recognition. In abject horror, she realizes that she is in a maze. A dark, damp, stale maze. And there is nothing to tell her where to go next.
Her nightmare has only just begun.
Lumine’s mind kicks back in. Her eyes flicker open even though she still can’t see anything, and her mouth clicks open and closed a few times. She wets her lips, feeling the callousness and dried blood from the cracks in them. She takes a shuddering breath. It provides her with little to nothing, but she relishes the feeling anyway.
She chuckles softly at the memory. It was so long ago by now, traversing that maze. She remembers how hard it had been, keeping her anxiety in check. At times, she hadn't. Lumine pushes the thought from her mind with another soft laugh. No use dwelling on something from so far in her past.
Where...is she?
Her head turns to look at her arm, wedged at the bicep between something up and to her right. She doesn't really remember how it got there, but she can probably loosen the rocks enough with her Geo resonance to pull it out. But as she reaches her other hand to press against one of the rocks, she recognizes the risk. If she tries to alter the walls around her, they may come collapsing in on her, crushing her under who knows how much rock and rubble.
She pulls her free arm back, resting it behind her as she thinks. She remembers searching through a cave she hadn’t before. She remembers thinking it was rather mundane, nothing special. The Adventurers’ Guild had commissioned her; they said they had received a report of some strange Geovishap activity in the area, and figured there may have been a nest in one of the caves nearby. So, being the hero the Guild relied on, she had taken up the challenge, setting out for the area within the day.
When Lumine had first arrived, she hadn’t found much. There was a large, almost castle-like structure that was ruined and overgrown long past repair, but she hadn’t immediately seen any caves. Lumine remembers thinking how strange it was, but she had seen far stranger on her travels.
As it would turn out, there was a rather large cave behind the ruins, its entrance almost covered in vines, and sitting at such an angle that if you didn’t come from above, you might not have ever seen it. As Lumine pushed the foliage aside and slowly stepped into the entrance of a rather large chamber, she felt a rumbling tremor pass through the ground and walls around her.
Lumine had drawn her sword, preparing her elemental energy to deal with whatever threat lay beyond. The threat would turn out to be a large, almost primal looking Geovishap. Lumine was sure she had never seen one before, but it didn’t seem to be some humongous threat like she had faced before, Dvalin, Andrius, or Osial, for instance. So she had steeled herself, lifted her head, fell into position, and readied her blade to face the beast in front of her. It’s roar was something Lumine could feel shake through her bones, but she had forged onward anyway, charging at the monster with all the vigor she could muster.
And that’s where Lumine’s memory falls through, becoming a fuzz of slashes, spins, elements, and pains. There was something in there about feeling like she was unprepared and definitely should have brought some backup, but it didn’t seem like there was much Lumine could do about it now.
Lumine blinks a few times, taking full stock of her situation. She seems relatively uninjured, a few cuts and scrapes and bruises dotting her skin, but no large-scale slashes that she could feel. She runs her free hand across her body, ensuring that she really is in one piece. She discovers that her clothes feel extremely ripped and tattered, and her ribs hurt when pressure is put upon them, but other than that she really does feel fine.
Lumine breathes in.
She shifts her trapped arm, hoping to find any configuration where her arm might not throb in pain quite as much. She has no luck, but she does discover that there’s an open space where her hand is. Not of much use to her, but it does tell her that the rubble above her might be more loosely packed than she first figured, which means she might be able to call for help if she feels anyone pass by.
Lumine breathes out.
She pulls her legs up to underneath her, sitting cross-legged as she ponders what she should do in this situation. She’s mostly been waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but Lumine quickly realizes that there might not be any light for them to adjust to. It really is just that dark in here. Just how far down is she, anyway?
Lumine breathes in.
Her hand comes up in front of her, reaching out into the darkness to press it against the rubble in front of her. It’s closer than she thought it was, Lumine can’t even stretch a full arm-length. And she can already feel the jagged rocks forming the wall behind her pressed against her back, so this space must be extremely small.
Lumine breathes out.
She runs her hand along to the left, seeing how far that side might go. To her dismay, she discovers that the left side of the wall is even closer than the one directly in front of her. There seems to be no pathways, no openings, no nothing in the uneven walls. Lumine rests her head back, head spinning as she considers her options.
Lumine takes a quick breath in before sighing it heavily back out. She takes another shaky breath in.
Lumine reaches her hand to her right, just to make sure that the space her right arm is trapped in doesn’t have any openings either. It doesn’t. She then checks the roof and ground of the space, again coming up totally empty. She presses against one of the looser rocks, feeling and hearing it shift. She’s afraid the roof is going to come down on her as first and debris rain down from it, but the walls click back into place, firmer this time.
Lumine breathes out a shaky breath, grateful at having not been crushed alive.
She swallows thickly, the saliva running down her throat painfully loud to her ears. Each and every sound she makes seems to be amplified to a degree Lumine doesn’t think she’s ever heard before. It freaks her out at first, but she supposes it makes sense. She reaches her hand up, rubbing at her ears to feel just how sensitive they are. Her eardrums burn.
Lumine breathes in.
The blood pounding through her makes itself known as the ringing in her ears fades to the steady pulse, pound, pulse of blood flooding her arteries. Lumine becomes painfully aware of her heartbeat as it seems to ring through her entire being, her eardrums focusing in on the sound. She swallows again, dreading both the feeling and sound.
Lumine breathes out.
She is immensely uncomfortable now, shifting around as she attempts to deal with her internal problems. Lumine’s hand comes to rub at her temple, attempting to alleviate any of the tension in her mind. She softly pushes and rubs across her head, eventually coming to the base of her ear where her earlobe connects, pressing lightly there. It helps calm her ears down, if only marginally.
Lumine takes another quick breath in and sighs out. It feels good to breathe.
Lumine’s eyes glance around as she rights her body again. Sitting straight up, her head just comes to brush against the roof. She glances up, seeing just the barest outline of rock above her. She desperately hopes it doesn’t come crashing in on her any time soon. Her eyes trail across the cracks in the walls.
Lumine begins to breathe in. Her breath hitches halfway through.
Lumine opens her mouth slightly, tasting the air. It’s stale. Extremely stale, in fact. Her eyes widen as she comes to a horrifying conclusion: she’s running out of air. Immediately, Lumine stops breathing, holding her breath in for as long as possible, her mind racing at the connotations of suffocation.
Lumine’s head begins to feel light as she deprives herself of oxygen. Her free hand comes to press at the rock trapping her other arm. Perhaps if she can reach whatever open area is beyond it, she can find more air.
Lumine lets out the breath she’s been holding in. She gasps deeply once before closing her mouth and holding her breath again. She should be able to function like this for a while at least, right? She only just woke up down here, she hadn’t exhausted all the air in here yet, right? There are at least a few cracks in the walls, which presumably lead to more open pockets that have been circulating air through this chamber. But then, why is the air so stale? Surely she can’t have breathed it all already. Just how long has she been down here?
Lumine quickly shakes her head, attempting to empty her mind of those worries. Those thoughts aren’t going to do anything for her but elevate her heart rate, and that’s going to use even more oxygen. The number one priority for now should be getting out of what is essentially her coffin.
Lumine pushes gingerly at the rock, testing its give. She can’t see very well, but her arm isn’t terribly thick, which means that she can probably pull it out and rest the two rocks together at an angle to prevent a collapse. If she doesn’t, she’ll probably die down here, so she decides that it’s her best shot. Her hand comes to rest at the base of where her arm is trapped.
Lumine breathes out, then sucks in another deep breath, allowing the oxygen to fully flood her system. This is basically her one hail mary, so she might as well use up her oxygen. She figures that at least she’ll die quicker if she fails.
Lumine’s eyes focus in on the barely visible dark splotches marking where her arms are. Her fingers curl against the base of the rock, pressing up against her rugged flesh. The dull ache of the rocks pressing up against her arm has flared up into full pain now that she’s disturbing it.
Her hands find a good grip, all five fingers curling in and up, pushing up into a slight hold in the rock. Lumine breathes out, closing her eyes as she focuses and readies herself. She grips harder, preparing to pull the rock up and off her arm.
Lumine breathes in, possibly for the last time.
She heaves, pulling the rock up and into whatever tiny space exists between it and the rest of the rubble. It barely gives, but Lumine can feel a slight, miniscule difference in the pressure up against her arm. She drags her arm back slightly, slowly. It burns, tearing at the already worn-out skin, surely reopening her wounds.
Lumine takes another quick breath, stopping but holding her position. Her arm has barely moved any, maybe just a few centimeters out, but at least it’s something. Lumine closes her eyes, bracing herself. She’s afraid that if she can’t pull her arm out all at once, the rocks will crash down against her arm again, which could snap her bones or just completely tear her arm apart. If she can pull it all out in one go, however, then the rocks will come down against each other, hopefully in a way that allows her to eventually find a way to get out completely. For now, though, her arm is the priority.
Lumine’s fingers run raw gripping at the rock. She doesn’t have much time before her fingers just give out completely, and then it’ll be completely hopeless for her. She pulls up again, yanking hard on her arm, wrenching it from its prison. Her flesh rips and tears against the jagged points of the rocks, dragging against the opening.
Lumine’s eyes squeeze tightly shut, her face grimacing as she sucks in another breath, drawing her arm slowly further out. Her fingers begin to shake with the effort of lifting the rock just far enough up to drag her arm out. She can feel that she’s about halfway through her bicep, the thickest part of her arm. Presumably, if she can get past this part, her arm will come free almost instantly.
Lumine’s mouth falls open as she gasps heavily, barely holding herself together. Through the pain, a familiar anxiety rises up. She wills against it, telling herself that now is absolutely not the time to get worked up, but her brain isn’t quite listening to her.
Her head spins, swimming in thick dizziness. Her blood pounds up against her ears, though she can barely hear it over the deafening ringing in them. She gasps heavily, willing any oxygen to enter her lungs. She doesn’t have time for this right now, but it seems her brain has finally come to recognize just how small of an area she’s in.
The walls begin to shift and move, Lumine can feel it. Her eyes snap open, scanning them frantically. They slowly move in on her, closing in on her, making the room progressively smaller and smaller. The rocks and rubble swim in her vision, seemingly getting bigger and bigger as they get closer and closer.
Lumine sucks in one big, deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut one last time.
She pushes all her weight on her free hand, willing the rock up as much as it will go. She yanks on her trapped arm, pulling on it as hard as she can. The pain is absolutely excruciating, tearing apart her skin, muscles, and tissue, bload coating the craggy edges of the rocks.
A deep rumble sounds above as the rocks suddenly shift and move, clicking and bumping around. Lumine is terrified that everything is going to come down on her, but she keeps pulling, shredding her muscle as she does so. Whatever it was seems to come to an end a second later, but rock, dirt, and small debris still rains down on her as the walls come to rest against each other comfortably again.
Lumine’s scream rips through her, rising from the deepest recesses of her chest. She screams at the effort, at the pain, at the hopelessness, at the walls, at herself, at the beast that trapped her here, at the prospect of never seeing her brother again, at the world. Lumine screams from the very core of her being, her primal instincts. She will not die down here. In this moment, it is the only thing she believes.
Lumine’s arm slowly drags out, bit by bit, centimeter by centimeter. She screams through it all, her voice echoing and bouncing against the rocks, absorbed into their surfaces and cracks. Lumine pulls one leg up, pressing up just below her arm, where the gap opens. She pushes against the rock with all her might, forcing her arm further out of the opening. A slight pulsing of Geo energy runs through her limbs, willing the rocks even slightly further apart without disturbing the others around them.
Finally, after an excruciatingly long time, after an excruciating amount of pain, Lumine’s bicep pulls out of the gap, the rest of her arm quickly coming unlodged with it as she is thrown back by her own force. The rocks crash down against each other as she lets go, just barely clickling back together in a position that will keep the structural stability of this tiny cave.
Lumine’s head slams against the back wall, her arms and legs sprawled underneath her. Her screaming ceases, replaced with her heaving for breath. She breathes rapidly at a pace far too fast for her to survive in an oxygen-deficient area, but she can’t do much else.
Her breath catches and she coughs a few times, her now ragged and bloodied hand coming up to pound at her chest. Her other arm, completely shredded at the bicep hangs limply at her side, and each cough rocks her body, jostling it and sending repeated jolts of pain down the torn nerve endings.
Lumine eventually gets her coughing under control, still gasping at any air she can get into her body. It tastes almost completely empty now, and Lumine’s dizziness is only increasing. She recognizes that even though she did free her arm, she’s well on her way to suffocating. She didn’t want to think about it earlier, but apparently she really had used up all the air available to her.
Weakly, Lumine raises her somewhat undamaged arm, pulling the air to her with a burst of Anemo energy. She expells the energy, shooting into each and every crack around her. If she’s lucky, it’ll circulate the air and get some oxygen to her. When she discerns no noticeable difference in the air, she does it again, pulling and pushing the air around her, running it across the walls and into the tiny pockets of space between the rock and rubble.
Unknown to her, and unfortunately for her, this is one of the first things she had done when she first became trapped down here, days ago by now. Lumine may not need as much food, water, or oxygen as the average mortal, but she does still need them to survive, and here, in this little coffin shaped just big enough for her, there is no oxygen left. She really had used it all.
Faintly, Lumine smiles to herself, delirious in her long insane mind. Perhaps if she hadn’t lost herself, if she hadn’t panicked at her own memories and reactivated her consciousness, she could have lived. Lumine smiles anyway, dragging up a memory of Aether in her soon to be final moments.
Through the wispy fog of her mind, Lumine thinks that maybe she could hear Aether, calling out for her. She faintly thinks she hears Amber of Mondstadt too, but figures that maybe it’s just how Aether’s echoes sound. Were those explosions, too?
Lumine grins, chuckling to herself as the walls close in around her. She’s insane, isn’t she? She had first come to know her claustrophobia so long ago, and now it will be the thing to kill her. How fitting, she thinks to herself.
“I’m sorry Aether,” she whispers to the carbon dioxide permeating throughout the room. Her hand comes to grip at the metal insignia attached to the base of her ragged dress. It’s the one thing that connects them, even now, so far apart. She can just feel it.
Lumine’s eyes close gradually, her breath and body stilling as her limbs and organs shut down one by one. Her brain cuts off everything unnecessary, ensuring it is the final survivor, even if it itself will soon die from complete anoxia.
Lumine breathes slowly, a single breath in, a single breath out. She no longer thinks, allowing her brain to melt away into the cold, dark space she resides in. Thinking takes up energy, oxygen. She no longer sees. Perceiving takes up energy, oxygen. She no longer moves. Moving takes up energy, oxygen.
Lumine’s breath stills.