My eyes narrow as I observe the water of the babbling river, trying to spot anything moving. I swallow hard and ignore the sweat trickling down my temples. I then spot a flash of something silver, and my pickaxe comes swinging down into the water. Red blooms in the spot where my pick impacted the river's bottom, and I pull it up to reveal a good-sized Demonfish I'd pierced straight through the head. I couldn't have done it more perfectly, especially compared to the other two fish I'd caught. At least they're still plenty edible.

After gathering up what I'd foraged, I make my way back to the small cave where Melva and I have set up camp. My mentor sits near the mouth of the cave, digging a temporary fire pit. She smiles when she sees me. "Hey, kid. Looks like ya got somethin'."

"More than 'something.'" I unravel the large leaf I'd wrapped the fish in and lay them out on the ground. "I also tried to forge for some of those potato-like roots I found higher up. They grow even larger down here than they do at the top of the layer." I placed down a pair of starchy-looking white roots, the little branching root tendrils they otherwise have already having been scraped off by my knife.

"So long as they can go on the fire an' we can watch 'em cook, they're fine," Melva said. "I'm good at makin' sure things don't burn now."

I nodded, my heart twisting at memories of Llyr and Gwynden cooking for all of us. "Having trouble with the fire? I can try and light it while you clean the fish." Melva lets out a frustrated sigh before nodding.

"Knock yourself out. The matches I brought got a bit damp, an' they ain't lightin'." She picks up her knife before going to gut the fish, and I take her place by the fire pit.

"Do you think the balloon will make it up?" I ask, taking out a match and unsuccessfully lighting it. Melva shrugs, and I purse my lips. "I-I don't know why I hope, I'm sure they don't want to hear from me anyways, even if they already don't think I'm dead. It's already been two weeks since we left..."

"Kid," Melva starts, sounding tired, but she stops when I look at her with a mournful gaze. "Never mind. We already sent it, if they get it, they get it." I nod, knowing I'm lamenting over nothing. It isn't like I'll ever see any of them ever again. I try to focus on lighting the fire instead, failing match after match.

Melva doesn't take long to clean the fish, and when I see this, I give up and go to dig in my pack for my own box of matches. As I search through my pack's side pockets, I pause when I come across Aedia's ruby and bronze bracelet. I'd forgotten that I'd packed this, but I couldn't leave it behind.

"This thing set the curtains in Addy's room on fire," I say as I show the Relic to Melva. She looks at me like I had Silverswimmers slithering from my ears, and I tell her about the sparks. "I have no clue how it happened. It's never done anything like it before, and it hasn't since. I figured it was exposure to the sunlight."

"That's weird as hell." Melva shakes her head. "If only it could make those sparks now to light that fire. I don't mind sashimi, but after all those ration bars, I want somethin' hot."

She doesn't have to tell me twice; I've been aching for something hot as well. We can't even try to make soup without a fire, not that either of us are good at making soup in the first place. "I wish I could make it happen again..."

"I've heard white whistles can make certain Relics do things they normally can't," she says. "Or even do things at all, like a key unlockin' a door to open it."

That piques my interest. "Wait, really?" And as soon as I think about it for a moment, I know what she's trying to say. "This obviously isn't a whistle, though. I feel like it would be the tone of the whistle that would activate a Relic. This can't produce..." And now I feel like an idiot, unless it really is all in my head. That tone I harmonized with in Aedia's room, that hum I swore had been her voice, is that a real tone?

I gently take hold of Aedia around my neck, looking at her for a moment as I move the bracelet away from anything flammable. My brow furrows, and then I rub the stone with my thumb. Even through my glove I can feel the heat radiating from within it, and that hum that pains my heart to hear rings out in my ears. Melva doesn't react to the tone, but the rubies on the bracelet pulse bright orange. My eyes widen just as sparks start shooting from each of the rubies, and both of us scramble back as the sparks reach nearly five inches away from their origin.

"Holy shit, it works!" Melva gasps. "Your whistle, stone, A-Aedia did it!" She grabs a nearby stick and hooks the bronze loop on it, holding it over the fire pit. The sparks catch the tinder, and a few embers ignite into a small blaze. "Now we're in business!" Melva proclaims with a grin. I can't help but smile a bit as well, just because of the sudden burst of enthusiasm from my mentor that I've sorely missed.

After about a minute, the sparks die out, and Melva slides the bracelet off the stick into my waiting palm. While she skewers the fish and sets them to roast, I look at the bracelet in fascination. "I thought this was a Fourth-Grade Relic, but it might actually be a Third-Grade. It has more than one function, though these functions aren't anything too spectacular."

"Then why don't ya name it?" Melva suggests. "All Relics worth a damn go up on auction with a name. Even if that one's never goin' to auction, all White Whistles have some kinda named Relic to their, well, name."

I think of the Crystal Compass, and I smile wistfully. "I suppose so, even if I'm a sorry excuse for a White Whistle." I look at the bracelet, thinking before deciding. "Bronze Spark? I'm not too good at naming things."

"It's better than what I could think of. But keep that around. It'll come in handy on the Fifth Layer." I nod and slip it back in my backpack. I don't need anything else that passively creates heat in such a humid place right now.

My thoughts wandering, I look at the fire and the roasting fish. Once that dies down to mostly smoke, we can smoke and dry some more meat in case we don't find anything to eat right away in the Fifth Layer. We deemed our ration bars as emergency food, and from this point on we need to preserve.

While we wait for the fish to cook, I pull out our map so we can attempt to chart our course. We've not only brought our overview map of the Abyss itself, but also additional maps focusing on each individual layer. Finding trails on the upper layers was more than easy with how many people have explored them, but the depths of the Fourth Layer hardly have anything while the Fifth Layer has no documentation we could get our hands on. The guild routes have long since left my memory, leaving us to try and plan around a vague smattering of markings on the Fourth Layer map to indicate pathways. I recognize the Great Creeper Passage and the field of Eternal Fortunes, but not much else.

"I believe we should try to head this way..." I trace a path on the map that runs further from the center of the Abyss, but it's not the furthest one. "All paths converge at the field of Eternal Fortunes, but I don't think encountering other Delvers when we don't have to is a better idea." Hence my idea of the second-furthest path.

Melva nods in agreement. "Bein' more in the woods is shiftier, but I ain't riskin' gettin' caught by a damn Orb Piercer again." I shiver as she says that, pushing away memories as my stump aches.

"W-we can stock up on more food as well." I start to pull the map away, but Melva still intently stares at it.

"Bellan knew these trails like the back of his hand when he talked to us 'bout the Fourth Layer," she says wistfully. "Makes sense now knowin' his ma, though she vanished before he even became a Moon Whistle."

"I've hardly read anything about Merith back when I used to research the White Whistles, so I suppose the only one who truly knew who she was is dead now," I say solemnly. It's still strange thinking that Melva's adopted grandmother was a White Whistle. Even now, she keeps Merith's whistle in her bag. "It's selfish to not give it to Lissy since she's next of kin, but I honestly don't care. I don't have anything else left of him," she'd told me in a voice as dully cold as how she normally speaks now.

After almost a week of ration bars in the Third Layer, the slightly-overcooked Demonfish is nothing short of heavenly. Even with no seasonings, it's better than sawdust, far better. And the roots I dug up provide a potato-tasting starch to fill our stomachs further. "See, after so long, we've finally come together to make somethin' passable," Melva says. "At least roastin' is almost always reliable."

I nod, savoring the fish's flaky skin and smoky aftertaste. The taste combined with the crackling of the fire brings me back to a happier time, one where the air was filled with upbeat conversation. Vio was sulking about almost ruining dinner while Gwynden gently reassured him. Melva just laughed and ate, and Llyr leaned against my side. But then reality returns, and Melva's gazing at me across the fire.

"Are ya gonna want more?" she asks. I hesitate before nodding. Any brief happiness I was experiencing has now died, and I find myself looking into the flames, thinking. "It'll be one more day after today, an' I think we'll be outta this layer." She smiles slightly. "The Fifth Layer's gonna suck, but it'll be somethin' new to see." That chases a bit of curiosity into me, and I nod again.

"Hopefully the clothes we brought are enough. I never thought I'd use that coat I bought since the seasons here don't change that severely. When it got cold back home, it was cold. It felt like the air froze in your nose when you inhaled it."

Melva winces. "That sounds like my special hell."

"And heat is mine," I retort, and Melva shrugs as she hands me another roasted Demonfish.

"Fair enough, kid."

Sleep has hardly been pleasant since we began our delve, but that's nothing new. The only difference is that I feel slightly comforted by Aedia's presence. It's the same comfort she brought to me when she was alive, sitting on the edge of my bed soothing me, and I can swear I can feel her hand on my shoulder now. It only eases the terrors, giving me a few precious hours that I cling to.

When morning comes, I'm awoken by the scent of coffee. I sit up, rubbing my eyes before pulling my hair out of my face and putting my glasses on. Melva's awake from having taken the last sleeping shift, and she's roasting a few of the leftover roots we'd gathered last night. When she sees me, she gives me a half-smile.

"Mornin', kid." She holds out a tin cup half-filled with coffee with a bit of sugar and powdered milk stirred in. "We have enough for about ten more cups, so we're gonna be sparin' now if we wanna make this last to the bottom of the Abyss."

I take the cup and sip from it, letting the burst of unbalanced caffeine wake me up. "I'm surprised you're making some since it's already humid enough." At that, Melva shrugs.

"I just really wanted some, an' I wasn't gonna leave ya out." I can't disagree with that, and we have a quick breakfast before cleaning up. I take one last look at our campsite to make sure we aren't leaving anything behind before switching to my goggles. "Ready, kid?" Melva asks, and I nod.

For the most part, Melva takes the lead while I stick close by, though we often walk side-by-side as well. Melva mans the binoculars while I keep an eye on the map as well as the depth meter. The amount of yards descended slowly increases, the overall mile mark in the top corner of the clockwork display ticking up at an even slower rate. Bit by bit, we're approaching a point neither of us have descended to, and it makes my heart pick up its pace.

"We're goin' back to that damn flower field..." Melva sighs. "Fate loves to bite me in the ass, it seems." She looks around, going quiet while pursing her lips. "No, I shouldn't speak badly. The Abyss is always listenin'."

That sends a shiver down my spine despite the humidity, and I solely try to focus on the map. I'd ignored anything Melva said about embracing the Abyss on the surface, but since we've started this delve, it's like a switch has been flipped in her. It honestly unsettles me more than anything, makes me feel as if I'm being watched, even if there aren't any creatures around. The humid air is like hot breath, the layers beneath us yawning open like a great maw.

We come to the edge of a thick forest I somewhat recognize, hanging vines mostly obscuring what's ahead of us. Melva's machete makes gradual progress, and we spend a time fighting through the brush. Light soon begins to seep through the greenery, light that can't be anything besides sunlight.

"An' we're back 'ere again." Melva hacks through the last of the vines to push out into a familiar field of white. I let her walk a few paces ahead of me before I step out behind here, and again I'm consumed by painful nostalgia. The rolling hills covered in flowers, the perfume-like scent carried by a breeze along with petals, and the dark shapes of the flat-creepers rising up in the distance...

"I don't understand why all the paths seem to converge here," I say dully. My hands holding the map fall limply to my sides, and Melva snatches the paper before it can slip out of my hands.

"'Cause no matter the history ya have with this place, it's still a wonder of the Abyss." Her reply does nothing to lift my sinking heart, but I still make myself walk out into the field, knowing our map is telling us to cross this place to continue our descent.

Walking through the field feels like a dream, not just because of the memories I've previously made here. My calves being engulfed makes me feel like I'm wading through water, but when I look down, it's all white. The white stretches everywhere, bending upwards in ways water shouldn't, too solid to be waves. And yet the wind moves those waves, the stray petals like sea spray.

The mental comparison to the ocean makes my stomach churn, even more so with how vast the field is. It's like a never-ending ocean of flowers. Something creeps up my throat, and I clamp a hand to my mouth to stifle it. The faint crunching of petals and leaves ceases behind me, and I turn to a stone-faced Melva. Perhaps she sees the paleness of my skin or how my good leg wobbles, but regardless she takes my arm.

"Sit down, kid." She pulls me down with her, and I have little choice but to sit next to her in the flowers. She puts her hand on the back of my head and pushes it between my knees. "Don't move until ya feel better. We needed to rest anyways, so let's give it some time." I don't even nod, letting my obedience be my response.

Time seems to come to a standstill as we sit in the middle of the field. My nausea gradually fades, and I lift my head to hesitantly look out at the landscape again. It's so beautiful, it's so beautiful it hurts. I can't stop the memories from returning, even if I've only been here once.

"Why does it still hurt?" I look at Melva with teary eyes. "I'm leaving, I've resigned myself to it, but it still hurts so much."

Her lips purse, and she puts a hand on my shoulder. "'Cause ya can't leave behind the memories. Ya never can, ya just carry 'em on with ya until the end. There might be peace, but there'll always be pain in that peace. Bellan, Vio, your parents, an' Aedia might've died fulfilled an' happy with their lives, but that never stops the pain."

I numbly listen to her speak, staring up at the swirling petals. When she stops, all I can do is nod as I swallow back bile and sorrow. Melva's hand on my shoulder tightens its grip, but she says nothing else. For a time, we simply sit in silence, watching the sunlight dance in the distant mist as our world is all white and pure. This sunlight may be our last, after all, and it's best we bask in its serenity before the unknown swallows us completely.

As my eyes start to drift closed, a sharp, burning pain sticks into my forearm. I flinch and let out a small gasp, catching Melva's attention. "Len?" she asks, but I'm looking at my arm. A stinger is buried deep in my skin, and a pang of terror stabs into me. On reflex, I tear the stinger from my arm. A small burst of blood lightly spatters the nearby flowers with red, sullying their white petals. "Len, ya okay?"

I watch as a large leaf seems to shift beneath one of the blood-stained blooms, thin legs emerging from beneath it. A shiver courses through me when I realize the leaf is a large green bug almost the size of my palm that's disguised itself as a leaf, and it has a small hole at the end of its abdomen where a stinger should be. I move away from the bug, looking about in the rest of the flowers to see if there are any more.

After a moment of stumbling, I manage to get out, "I-I was just stung by something." Even if it's something I don't recognize, it's not an Orb Piercer, that's all I care about. Melva's already put-off by the blood running down my arm, but now she's more concerned.

"Then let's get goin'. That's clearly our sign to leave, an' we can clean an' wrap your arm up while we walk. Get up while I get the alcohol..." I do so and grab my backpack as she takes a bandage and a bottle of rubbing alcohol from her bag. We start walking, her disinfecting my wound and wrapping it. The pain is dull but annoying, and I do my best to ignore it. "Honestly, I dunno how I would've made myself get up if that hadn't happened. I'm feelin' sentimental too."

"Because of the sunlight," I say, and she nods.

"Just in case it's the last we see of it. I wish it could be more, but I've never been one for theatrics an' shit."

I smile slightly. "Neither have I, so this is a fine enough farewell. We still have a ways to go across this field, so yes, let's get going." I wait until she puts the alcohol away, and we continue on our way. A farewell to light and warmth, to comfort and familiarity. For I know that what awaits us ahead will be anything but that.