The underground tunnel was cold and damp. Ezra's footsteps echoed softly on the earthen floor as the hunter led him through the winding passageways. They moved quickly but quietly, knowing that whoever was chasing them was still out there.
After several minutes, the tunnel opened into a small chamber. The air was thick, but it was a safe hideout for now. The hunter moved to a corner and quickly set up a small fire, casting flickering shadows on the rough walls.
Ezra looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The walls were carved with strange symbols—faint, glowing lines that shimmered in the firelight. Something about them tugged at him, as if they were calling out in a language he almost understood.
The hunter sat beside him, watching the flames. "This place has been hidden for generations," he said quietly. "It's a sanctuary—an old retreat used by those who knew secrets they wanted kept safe. We're lucky to found it now."
Ezra's gaze stayed fixed on the symbols. "Did you know about this?"
The hunter shrugged. "Not exactly. I knew of its existence, but I've never been here. Sometimes, places like this hold memories, or even magic. It's a good place to hide when things get dangerous."
Ezra nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The flickering fire seemed to flicker with the shadows of his doubts and fears—things he couldn't yet put into words.
From outside, faint sounds echoed through the tunnel—distant footsteps, the faintest murmur of voices. The danger was still present, lurking just beyond the silence. Ezra clenched his fists, knowing the road ahead was uncertain.
But for now, they had a moment of quiet. That was enough.