Killial decided it was pointless to ask around the village. If anyone had known anything, they would have already spoken, and by now every person in the village would know. So he searched in the traditional way, moving by himself, watching tracks and corners with his own eyes. He brought a few things with him, simple tools and supplies, things he thought would come in handy. He wasn't just a ten year old boy, not in the way he acted. He was more like a fifty year old alchemist squeezed into a smaller body. His hands moved with habit, his eyes measured every detail, and his steps were steady. In terms of experience he was already more than sufficient. The only gap was knowledge of the magic of this world. Other than that, you could say he was an expert in life.
He roamed the fields and paths the entire morning. When the sun reached high he had to admit the truth of his search. His findings were nonexistent. The village rested in a very peaceful area, plain lands stretching far, green hills rising like soft waves, not a hostile place. Hard then to predict where a child could have disappeared. No broken branches, no claw marks, no unnatural silence. Nothing suspicious.
Then his mind clicked as if a door opened.
"If the kid disappeared just like that, but nothing unusual is happening, no creatures roaming... could it be that the key to this puzzle is still in the house? Perhaps he never disappeared. He's still in his house?"
The thought pressed too strong to ignore. He went back to the village at once. The boy's house stood at the side, away from the center, which made it an easier target if monsters came. Yet there were no marks, no claw, no blood, nothing to prove such a theory.
He waited until no one noticed him and slipped inside. The house was plain. Tables, chairs, bedding, all in order. But at the back was a yard, small and quiet, with an old well sunk into the ground. The stone rim was cracked, moss creeping over it, and dust settled thick. The sight made new theories rise in his mind. He noticed small things too, loose earth at the base, faint disturbance. Enough to stop him. He decided not to assume. Better to call the parents first.
They were outside, still busy asking other children if they had seen their boy. Nothing came of it. Killial called them over and brought them to the backyard.
"I want you to tell me everything about this well. I have a strong feeling it's involved just by looking at it. I feel something is terribly wrong with it," he said with a calm expression on his face.
The young couple looked at him and for a moment felt as if they were not speaking to a child, but to someone older, someone who carried weight in his voice. The father cleared his throat, trying to ease his uneasiness.
"This well has been dead for a long time, almost three decades. When I was young it was already dry. My parents only kept it in case water flowed again. The reason it wasn't destroyed is because it was no ordinary well. Its water was rich in elemental energy, good for health and for restoring mana after exhaustion."
His wife added, "It may not be very useful to us ordinary people, but it's valuable for elementals. They pay a good price for it. But why do you think it's important regarding our missing son?"
Killial saw the weight pressing on them and didn't wander into side talk. "This well, if what you said is true, then my speculation is true. Look at it. Someone went in or came out. It's been used lately without you noticing."
Both parents stepped back, faces stiff. "How..? If there's anything special about this well we would have known. This makes no sense," the father said.
The mother's voice shook. "How could you come to this conclusion just by looking at it?"
Killial gave the reason. "By looking at the well we are supposed to see spider webs filling the entire hole. Thick webs should block the opening by now. But the web is torn apart, which means someone went through very recently."
Their faces grew heavier with pressure. Before fear could take over, Killial spoke again, his voice calm and steady. "It seems I have no choice but to go down there and investigate. Hopefully my assumption is false. I just need you to tell the old lady for me." Then he pointed at the man. "And you, sir, I need your help to get down there. A rope would be very useful."
The father didn't want to agree, but the boy's tone left no room for doubt. It was not the voice of a child. In the end he fetched the longest rope in his house and tied it around Killial.
Killial drew his sword, slung it across his back, held a torch in one hand, and began to descend. The walls were damp and close, stones rough against his boots. At first it seemed endless, darkness swallowing the light. But the torch kept the path visible, and in time he saw the bottom. The well was not deep, just around thirty meters.
When his feet touched the ground he realized it wasn't only a well. A tunnel opened to the right. The stone walls narrowed and the air smelled stale. The passage was wrapped in spider webs, not ordinary webs. These were thick cords, pale and strong, as wide as his fingers. His blade stuck when he cut through, and each swing took effort. The webs clung to him, pulled at him, and each cut left a faint sound echoing down the tunnel. The sense of danger was no longer an idea but a weight in his arms. After all, it was unusual, unnatural, to find a tunnel inside a well. plus, why is the spider webs here not torn apart ? Could it be that whatever came down or broke out didn't actually go through this tunnel?. It's the only explanation he thought.
He stopped, thought of the risks, measured the pros and cons in silence. Then he stepped inside.
Above, the lost boy's father tried to call out, voice trembling against the stone. No answer came. The sound was blocked. He tugged at the rope, hoping for a response, but felt only slack. When he pulled harder, the end came up cut clean.
"What is this boy doing? Could it be that he found something unusual?"
Meanwhile, Killial advanced steadily. It was dark except for the torchlight. The tunnel clearly wasn't hand-made. Maybe it was natural, he thought. Then he reached a crossroad, where many tunnels met. Choosing one was a hard decision. Killial relied on the spider webs again. He chose the path with torn webs. Clearly, something had gone through it.
Suddenly, his torch went out. Darkness fell.
"Shit… why now?" he thought, frustrated. For the first time in his new life, he almost lost composure. Even an adult would tremble in this situation.
Luckily, he wasn't out of options. His partial control over lightning allowed him to create small sparks and concentrate them into a tennis ball-sized sphere. The idea was to make a weapon, an attack spell that would explode on contact, but he couldn't make it explode during training. It turned out it is more useful this way. Not as clear or bright as a fireball or torch, but the range was wider.
He navigated the darkness using the sparks. The maze-like tunnels twisted and turned. It took an hour of roaming before he could find some clues.
A huge area, like a cave, unfolded. It was full of eggs, white with red dots. Thick webs covered everything. Killial looked up and saw about a dozen bodies hanging from the threads. Most were strange shapes, except one. It looked smaller, and its shape resembled a human body.
He didn't panic or lose focus. If the kid was here, he would be trapped in that web. Killial slowly unsheathed his sword, careful not to make noise or invite unnecessary trouble. Lightning circulated around his body. His physical strength increased significantly compared to normal.
He jumped and struck the thread holding the cocoon. Then he fell back and drew his sword again. With both hands, he caught it.
Before he could check if the cocoon held the boy, a sense of danger hit him.
A loud, vicious shout echoed from the deepest parts of the underground maze. Killial felt a sudden urgency to leave with the cocoon but also felt helpless.
Darkness, the cocoon, and not knowing which tunnel to take in the vast maze made him question if there would even be an after this.