March 8, 3019
The torch in Elladan’s hand flickered, spitting bright sparks but it did little to penetrate the smothering gloom. Thick, acrid smoke drifted back at him as he walked and he shifted the torch to angle it further away from his face. Yellow flashes caught the corner of his eye as the flame reflected from flecks of mica, quartz and fool’s gold embedded in the rock.
Far ahead other torches showed as tiny pinpricks of light in the immense darkness, faint yellow sparks that shone fitfully against the black night.
Behind them shadows clustered, deepening the darkness as the Dead followed.
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