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It begins here: Delve! A fantasy story told post by post, no pre-planning. All in thread. Please share if you enjoy! – Updated 1-2 times a week. – No limits. – No editor. Longer explanation here: bit.ly/_Delve 💙📚 #writingcommunity #booksky #book #amwriting #fantasy #author #story

Kru, son of Apto, stumbled as guards shoved him down the last step, ankle cuffs clinking against cold stones. Life had brought him here, to the lowest cells from which none returned. Guards laughed, talking to themselves, lit by a small lantern. Yet, Kru smiled; everything he wanted was here. #SiP

“Hate coming down here,” the 1st guard said. “Place reeks.” “At least we just drop 'em off. Tam comes here every day to feed these wastes,” the 2nd guard replied, pushing Kru again. Past several cells, they stopped in front of a heavy metal door. Scrawled beside it was a number 8. Kru panicked. #SiP

“That one,” Kru said, pointing across the hall. “I need to be in that one.” “That one's flooded, you fool. You’re going to be miserable enough, why add to your pain?” “It is my lifetime to spend. What care you for my pain?” The guards stared blankly at each other and then broke into laughter. #SiP

“You’ll be dead in a year. We don’t care,” the 1st guard said, pushing Kru across the hall. The 2nd guard fiddled with the keys. Finding the correct one, he shoved it in the lock with a loud clunk. With a heave, it swung free, scraping and squealing. At door 9, the guards removed his chains. #SiP

Kru launched away from the guards. “Stop!” They explained, but calmed when they saw he wasn’t escaping. He was in the cell. “This one’s crazy,” Guard 1 said. “Yeah, let’s be done with it,” Guard 2 said. They closed the door with a loud thunk. Darkness surrounded Kru, and joy filled his heart. #SiP

He waited for his eyes to adjust—nothing. With the lantern's glow gone, darkness engulfed him. This would complicate his mission, but the cells were small. Hands outstretched, he felt the walls. Single step, cold stone. A couple more steps, and his feet were submerged. The cold biting his toes. #SiP

He touched the far wall. His shoes, cloth and tatty hide, were drenched, but the water stopped at his ankles. Moving right, the floor sloped, and he found a dry area near the next wall. A minor cut out in the stone served as a pallet. Back to the entrance, no other exit, yet it must be here. #SiP

Years of research led him here. No one believed him. The king and his advisors wouldn’t let him search. Kru wouldn't stop; this was too important. The world would change. So, he found another way, a monstrous way. In the darkness, his body shook—was it from the cold or the horrors he had done? #SiP

The men dying, the women screaming, the children—the poor children. He wasn’t evil, but to be here, he needed to do evil things. History would show he did the right thing. Yes—yes, he focused on that. They would see how he sacrificed so they could benefit. Kru knew he was a good man. #SiP

How to start? The darkness weighed on him. The cold seeped into his bones. Tired from his journey, the walk down the stairs had taken its toll. He will rest first and then begin tomorrow. Yes, that was the idea. He lay on the shelf and pulled his thin garments tight. Rest would bring clarity. #SiP

A clang from the door startled Kru awake. His head hit the stone above. “Ouch,” he muttered, the words echoing softly. A small pat reached his ears. “Is someone there?” No response. He crawled from the bed, careful to avoid the water, and searched the door. His hands grasped something soft. #SiP

He brought it to his face, straining to identify the object. The smell of sour, musty bread filled his nostrils. His stomach grumbled. When was his last meal? How long had he slept? He took hearty bites. Bits of vegetables and meat crossed his tongue. It was gone too quickly. #SiP

He memorized every touch, constructing the cell in his mind. His fingers numbed, cold biting to the bone. Hunger gnawed at his belly. Search, eat, sleep—repeat. How many days now? He couldn't waste energy remembering; the search was his only path to life. He found no mark, no way to his goal. #SiP

A clang signaled his next meal. Bread dropped through the slot. In his mind, he marked his place, then crawled to the door. Hands searching, there was nothing. “Where is it?” his voice gravelly. “Where’s my bread!” His arms frantically pushed across the floor, splashing water. Still no bread. #SiP

He needed food to continue his work. On his knees, soaked, cold, biting his skin, he pushed into the water. It must have rolled here. He had avoided the water; he didn’t know his way. Where else could it be? "Please. So hungry." His desperation echoed. "I can help." A whisper came in the dark. #SIP