It is not as simple as I had expected it to be; having to crawl through the hole on the wall. The boy has gone in effortlessly and quietly that he reminded me of a rat scuttling back into its own hideaway. But it has taken me at least a minute - which is the longest - to fit myself in, careful not to leave gashes on my robes. Not that I care what happens to my clothes, but the mere thought of seeing anyone's reaction towards my shredded robes is enough to make me be more cautious.

I hadn't thought about how dark it will be once we are in there. So I keep a close distance between the boy and myself while he leads the way, being the more experienced one. He crawls deeper, and it gets darker, and I start imagining things that might be lurking around the corners. But soon, I feel the ground beneath me tip downwards slightly at an angle, forming a slope, and I know we're crawling at an incline. I can only rely on the sounds of his palms slapping on the cold, stone floor and his knees shuffling along. I can't help but look back at the entrance hole, afraid that anyone might catch us. He's done it before, I tell myself. We should be okay.

My eyes start to adjust around the darkness, and I can at least make out his silhouette in front of me. The tunnel we have been crawling on seems to expand, and I can now breathe easier. We have no source of light, and we are already far from the way we entered. Yet, I can still see the outlines of the rocks above our heads, know exactly where to place my palms so they don't get injured from sharp-edged rocks, and even see a few metres ahead as if the area is illuminated by a soft, faint glow. My eyes begin to dart everywhere around the narrow tunnel to see whether there is anything that gives out light sources. Upon observing this, however, I notice how every now and then the somewhat possible glow will flicker and return. Anyone paying close attention will notice rather bizarre occurrence.

After another few minutes, the boy in front of me slows down. He sits back, brings two hands on the jagged ceiling above and pushes them upwards. I quickly cover my mouth and nose as dust particles begin falling, sitting back on my heels and closing my eyes. I hear the heavy scrap of rock against rock. When I open my eyes, the boy has already lifted himself up onto the now new hole above, where he's removed part of the ceiling. Gradually, I follow suit.

Neither of us have interacted during this entire time. I am quite glad to see that the ceiling is at least a foot higher than our heads this time, so I don't have to duck or bend down, which will only damage my posture. The tunnel is wider now, and I can extend my arms to stretch myself. We take our times just stretching our limbs and twisting around because if we don't, we'll have to go back down that damned tunnel and crawl all the way up to our cell. I still have many questions, but I put them aside. I can ask him any time.

"We're almost there," the boy says to me for the first time since we'd entered. He is looking at me when he says it, and now I realize where that mysterious faint glow that has been the only source of light to guide us is coming from.

Because if I hadn't noticed his green eyes earlier, I can see them now. I can see the details of his bright green irises, faintly spotted with ruby that seems to increase the intensity. They damn well glow! For a moment, I am awestruck. If this boy is a wizard - just like me - then he's a specialized one, because I have never met any witch or wizard whose eyes glow in the dark.

We walk for another few minutes before he stops at a corner. He stoops and, knowing exactly from past experience where to place his hands, heaves open a rock from the wall. Golden light quickly streams in through the gap, falling on the pebbly floor and making a long streak of ragged, golden light. My heart sort of stops beating when I hear voices on the other side of ... what, an exit? But then he ducks under the small hole and helps himself out. Whoever is out there, though, they seem excited to see him.

"Ed!"

"It's Edgar!"

"Eddy's back!"

"Edgar!"

So I figured that his name starts with E-D - somewhere along the line. Something about their squeaky voices catch my attention that I quickly exit through the hole.

About twenty pairs of large eyes stare back up at me.

And I stare back down at them.

"Elves," I find myself murmuring, observing their petite features, to their large hands and feet and ending at their long, bat-like and pointed ears. I rarely see elves around. I always see gnomes, but not elves. And these elves are up close, all wearing the same grimy aprons. Some of them are holding plates and towels, in the middle of wiping them clean while the others can be seen stopping in the middle of washing the dishes. There are those who are about to take out the trash. I can also see the rest cooking and preparing the meal. They work in the kitchen. No wizards at all. And they all seem to look up to Edgar here, as a few of them have come running to him and handing out food to him.

"Thanks," Edgar says, taking it and chuckling a little. "You didn't eat it, did you?"

"Cossel did!" one of the elves croak, pointing a spoon at the smaller elf. "Cossel is eating it, Edgar! Cossel is sneaking around and-"

Edgar laughs. "I so happen to have suspected that," he says, shutting the two elves up, for they have started to bicker. He looks at me with the food in his hands, cocking an eyebrow, as if asking whether I want it. I give a small shrug, indicating that I don't really care.

"Eddy!" an elf pipes up, hopping up to draw Edgar's attention. The elf then whispers, "Who is the boy?"

As if I can't hear him. "He's new," Edgar tells him coolly. "He was starving, so I brought him here."

"But Edgar is never bring anyone before!" another elf says, looking at me now with slight interest.

"That's because I never had company before," Edgar tells them, still beaming. "Anyway, thank you, you lot. I'll come back soon - tonight, maybe."

Instead of waving back, more of them rush up to me and giving me more food. I see cakes - loads of them. I accept them anyway, trying to give them the same genuine smile that Edgar seems to have on his face. I can't hide my hunger anymore, so I stuff one cake into my mouth. They seem happy to see this, as more of them come to me with more food, before Edgar stops them and tells them to keep them for themselves.

I am at least contented once Edgar and I are walking back in the tunnel, me holding food in my arms and him stuffing water bottles into his pockets. "They seem to like you," I decide to speak.

"We're best friends forever," he tells me.

"They give you food all the time?"

"Since the day I was imprisoned here," he says. "Myldir - you know, the one wiping the plate - was the first to come to me on my first night here. He used to sleep in my cell before I was there."

"So he created this tunnel?"

"He enlarged it once I arrived, yeah," he explains. "I like those elves."

I snort. "Are they your only friends here?"

"What, am I supposed to befriend those delinquents up there?"

"At least you have human interactions,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he rounds on me, his glowing green eyes starting to fill with anger. "Just so you know, the trolls are nicer than the humans here! And you're already setting a brilliant example as a living proof for that matter!"

That triggers it. Within a second, I shove him roughly against the rocky wall, leaving all the food to scatter along the ground. "You're calling me inhuman when we're under the same roof?" I hiss at him.

He doesn't look intimidated, but his eyes soften. "We're all the offenders, and very few of us are remorseful."

I pin him harder that he actually winces. The side of my head is already throbbing, and somehow I just become very sick of being angry and short-tempered all the time. So I release him, grab the fallen food, and make my way all the way to the cell, where I eat in silence by myself, staring - again - at the empty, barren wall opposite me. Edgar just sits on his mattress in silence, probably regretting his outburst earlier, or probably cross with me for my outburst. He has, after all, helped me get food. Heck, his eyes even glow, for Merlin's sake. And what did I do in return?

He doesn't dare speak to me, though. All I do is eat. I have to admit; the food is quite scrumptious. Who knew elves can be good at cooking? I keep wanting to apologize to Edgar. He is a nice bloke - I have to admit. But I'm not a really nice person, and apologizing doesn't suit me, even though I know Edgar has to know how sorry I am from the start.

Instead, I build up the courage to say, "It's Raine."

Still not looking at me from his own place, he says, "No, it's not."

I feel the anger again, just a faint fire from the pit of my stomach. Why do I have to be so angry all the time? I really need to start thinking before doing anything. "I meant my name, not the weather," I say to him. This time, he really does look up at me. "Raine with an 'E' at the back. Raine Akers."

"Oh," he says. "Edgar Blackbourne."

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, and I feel as if the weight has been lifted off my shoulder.

"It's fine,"

"I'm short-tempered,"

"I'd figured that,"

"I want to sleep,"

"I've already set it up for you," he says, indicating the mattress across from him. I make my way towards it, settling down and noticing how, despite the lack of comfort, I am highly deprived of sleep. I lie on my back and drape an arm across my face so I can have my peaceful sleep. I just want to put this whole day to a rest. It has been, after all, a really long, exhausting one.

But I spend a good ten minutes just lying there and thinking of nothing, my arm still draped over my face. I'm enervated, yes, but I can't seem to fall asleep. I don't know what Edgar is doing, whether he is still awake, as my eyes are closed. Eventually, I let out a long sigh. "Hey, Ed?" I murmur, half hoping he'd ignore me.

"Yeah?" I hear him reply at an instant.

"Thanks,"

"Okay,"

"I mean it."

"I know."

And I do fall asleep.