oddly enough that the hermit man gave no sign of fear at the sight of the blade.
The walls inside were quite beautiful, he soon discovered. The hall they walked was lined with endless shelves of books, then clear cabinets displaying wondrous rocks of all colors. Some seemed to glow and waver with a mysterious glimmer as he gazed upon them, but he kept his eyes mainly on the old man’s back as they ventured down, descending the sandy corridor deeper into the mysterious house. Finally they came to a big open room with four larger corridors leading off in different directions. He noticed the walls were engraved with odd symbols, some of which were things he had seen before in forbidden books. His spine shivered. The old man turned to him and nodded, and without a word he walked with a strenuous pace toward the room’s center. Once there, the tiny hermit paused to smell the air. He sighed, and gave another glance to Adacon.
“The sort of home that would make for comfortable living, eh boy?” he asked.
“I suppose, I am much cooler in here, and there’s a pleasant aroma in the air. Do tell me we’re going to the stove?” Adacon asked, feeling his stomach growl, reminding him of his hunger.
“Surely, I should hope, lest the trolls of Carnine have looted my good store,” laughed the old man, letting out an enormous high pitched howl, seemingly too loud for someone with such a small frame. Suddenly, he began to run ahead of Adacon. They paced toward the left wall corridor, and he was surprised at the energy he felt rolling off the old man. They came to a hole in the ground at the end of the sandy hallway, and without a word the little man disappeared down a ladder coming out of the top. Adacon stood dumbfounded. He almost thought he could hear water dripping from below, but decided it was his imagination. Without shouting down to ask if it was safe to come, he followed the man. The ladder seemed to go down and down forever, and he began to grow faint after repeating the same hand movements over and over. Finally he came to the ground at the bottom and realized he was no longer standing on hard sand, but smooth grey rock. He looked directly up:
The ceiling of the great cave was sparkling like diamonds, and there were jagged rocks jutting their edges down toward the ground. High above was a tiny spot of light where the ladder had led down from. The height seemed quite extreme and he leveled out his glance, taking in a deep cavernous chamber. The sparkling room was enormous, one hundred yards wide at least, he thought in wonderment. The place looked like a palace carved from the inside of a giant rock. The most beautiful sight in the cave was a clear blue pond that sat comfortably in the center of the room. The water shimmered with reflections of the surrounding crystals and rocks that draped the walls and ceiling. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He had a sudden notion, almost gone the next second, to kill the old man and spend eternity alone and at peace within the cave. But that thought snapped away, and reality returned with the sound of the old man’s voice.
“So what do you think of my pool? I think it should be called lovely by some, though I reckon not even this could be seen as beauty to Grelion and his kin,” muttered the old man, ending on an angrier tone.
“This place is beautiful, I have never seen anything like it,” Adacon responded, still in awe. “This is your home?”
“This old place has been my home now for many of your lives lad, and with the sort of evil folk running around in this age, I am glad it is so well hidden. Anyway…” he spoke gently. “I’ve not had one visitor in the past century, I suppose, though mind you I do travel out a lot myself. It’s a pleasant surprise for me to share this wonder with another—another like you.”
“Like me?” Adacon recoiled, awed by the little man’s reference to his extreme age.
“Sure you, lad” he retorted.
“Why me?”
“Because you are not one of them, and us who live apart from chaos and evil are as one,” the man replied. “Do you not rebel against your oppression now, where it drives to sting?”
“I do, Though I don’t