FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

CHAPTER 1

"We belong to the wolves, remember?"

Slow to open his eyes, Cecil Thumper's irises project a bright blue light across his mostly dark room. Greeted by the pink glow from the petrified glow-roots clinging to his ceiling, he finds the dimly highlighted silhouettes of young siblings. The closest one pops a finger from his grinning wet mouth to insert it into Cecil's right ear.

After a grunt and a bark, Cecil jolts up and stuffs a corner of his sheet into that ear. "Gross! What's wrong with you, rabbit?! Ferdinand, you're so gross!" His fiery-blue irises illuminate Ferdinand's giggling face.

Behind Ferdinand stand two younger siblings, his sister Jessin and his brother Alfonso.

Truine remains in the hallway entry, giggling wickedly at Ferdinand's antics.

Cecil continues fighting the sheet as deep into his ear as possible. "How am I related to such a disgusting rabbit?" he growls over Ferdinand's roaring laughter.

Though these Animalia quickly accept the term 'rabbit' to best describe their apparent species, these bipedal lapins are anything but ordinary.

Cecil sits on the edge of his bed, trying his best not to stiffen the large muscles within his thighs. Angry Thumpers cannot help but swell the cannons that are their thighs and feet. He whimpers as he waves his long ears about, digging and scraping the gunk out. His sibling's slobber helped accumulate more sand than normal.

Thumpers like Cecil and his siblings are a species hailing between a hare and a jackrabbit, yet wielding unnatural drumming strength.

He locks his eyes into Ferdinand's, showing the young buck the levels of disappointment he suffers.

Thumper-Noble comes primarily with two eye colors, blue from their father or green from their mother. There are no albinos among them.

Cecil's eyes lower toward the floor, to begin brushing the sand from his dream out of his fur.

Half of these Thumpers possess a solid coat of midnight-blue fur, the other half possess a combination of white fur speckled and spotted across the body.

"Sorry, Ceese." Ferdinand finally says through thick incisors.

Alfonso uses his soft palm to groom his scalp.

As with most Animalia, these bipedal lapins speak and develop the physical attributes of any bipedal Enlightened. New hair and hirsute can grow from their body and scalp; an alluring and voluptuous figure ideal for bipedal standers can develop when mature. Even the oddities of heavy-set mammary glands and opposable thumbs develop within most Enlightened.

Jessin sways her shoulders to make her dress spin around her legs. She waits patiently for her two younger siblings to get done with their antics. Then she notices a wrinkle on her hip and swiftly attempts to iron it out with her paws.

This physical potential is by no means strange once an explorer becomes accustomed to this world's many configurations. These bipedal upright-standing rabbit-like creatures are only one of tens of thousands of species of Animalia populating the many civilizations across Vaelia. Credit goes to the Life-Breathers, who made all appearances and shapes possible. Why is anyone's guess, but each culture of the known world has its theory.

Jessin's devious blue eyes glow brilliantly as midnight blue hair falls around her white-spotted shoulders. She wears a simple brown dress with bark-laced sleeves and pants. A freshly picked flower of crystalline perfection glows dimly white in her excess hair.

Ferdinand returns to picking his nose. Again, because Cecil knows better to assume he was picking it before stuffing his wet finger into their eldest sibling's ear. The boy regularly digs into his snout no matter who is standing in front of him. His bottom lip glistens with saliva. His distinctively flat face and pointed nose is unique among the family of eighty-five, in that no other Thumper has such a bizarre facial shape. When he plucks his finger from his snout, he immediately wipes the goods into his black linen cloak.

Alfonso was likely the one pulling Cecil's ears and legs during his dream. Though Cecil could feel his siblings messing with him, there was nothing to be done to wake up while the lizard held his mind. He looks at his six-year-old brother with regret as Alfonso smiles back like a boy who could do no harm. Keen eyes burn bright with sapphire virtue as though feigning reasons to hide from labor. Hand Alfonso a garden shovel, and he will swing it around like some Temple Guard protecting Queen Kaira BoshTail.

Cecil looks for Truine to tell him something, but the five-year-old boy already ran off to inform the family he is awake. Truine's fur pattern leaves most of him in midnight blue, save for his face masked in white fur. When he smiles the way he does, he appears to be a green-eyed opossum with tuber nippers instead of fangs.

Thumper-ilk comes with many fur patterns and shapes. The glow in their eyes only takes after enough years ingesting the right assortment of food from the dark farm. Someone as young as Truine, his eyes have yet to take on the glow. Alfonso and Ferdinand are just beginning to take the iris glow, though most days, it can be challenging to see without riling them up. Jessin's eyes are in full illumination, and despite the light projected, it helps these rabbits see in the dark of their den.

"Cecil Thumper! You. Are. Late!" Jessin shouts through her smile. "Hurry up! Get un-sat and get that scut hoppin before we change your name to Snoring Thumper!" She storms from the doorway to grab her two brothers by the collar of their muslin tunics to guide them out. The boys' collars tug up and appear as if they are being carried off in potato sacks.

"Alright, Jessin, I'm up," Cecil says with exhaustion. He gazes at the glow-roots on the ceiling as he shakes off the feeling of being crushed beneath the sand. Though it was a dream forced upon him by a distant foe, the sensations and experiences of that dream were as real as anything life could throw his way. His body is still twitching from feeling every bone break and every organ pop.

The taste of blood, vomit, and the sensation of sand remains in his mouth.

After a fierce yawn, he takes this short moment of privacy to pick his nose and ears of dust. Extending his giant foot out, he slips his foot into his shorts and tugs them closer. After pulling his shorts up, he remains sitting on his bed with his arms resting on his thighs. He gazes beyond where his hands loosely clasp and speak with dismal melancholy. "Another day. Another long and boring day."

The glow-roots' inner sap ripples as it shifts from pink before turning toward blue.

He clears his throat and stands up. He finds his tunic hanging on top of the bookshelf and throws it on.

The glow-roots then shift from a dreary blue to a poignant violet. The next color sneaks in from the side of the foundation, pushing the color toward burgundy, then daisy yellow. The crystalline roots appear as if it is an intricate sculpture of blown, coiling glass. It is a living plant, one that is ideal for deep den chambers. Its roots are parasitic to the petrified trees in the Darklight Forest above ground, preventing the greedy forest from digging into and ruining the structural integrity of the den below.

Most of the essential den chambers remain lit with fluorescent lights, such as in the classroom, or hanging lanterns in the dining hall. Young lapin hosts great fondness in these glowing roots for adding a mood to their private chambers.

He lifts a covered cup of water from his end table and turns to his desk. He places it down and pops the lid off before sitting on a chair that he had built for himself. The gnarled feet of the chair have rabbit paws carved into them. There is no cushion needed for Cecil's wide hips, and the lower back is left open for his scut to shudder freely.

Placing a sheet of white parchment on his counter, he proceeds to groom himself with his comb. Sand from the desert quickly covers the paper. This physical evidence will be one more sample for his curious siblings to examine. At least, the few of his siblings who believe his dreams are even real. The grains stink of copper, corroded iron, and general decay. The decay comes from the very creature whose eyes he sees through within the dream. He knows he is some vile dead thing in most of these dreams, if not all of them -- a walking corpse and a weapon that threatens the whole of the world.

His fur is a solid midnight blue, making him near-invisible in the dark of the den. He leans forward to have the glow-roots outline his silhouette in his dresser mirror. Studying his shape to witness his hair miserably stuck up on one side, he gets busy grooming.

Round, sharp eyes glare in focus. The intense glow of sapphire irises beneath a passively furrowed brow gives him an inspiring, thoughtfully angry appearance. His facial fur is thin and smooth, keeping his chin softly defined and youthful -- massive ears swing about to avoid his brush strokes.

He smirks at the handsome lapin devil smirking back at him in the mirror. A smirk that swiftly melts from his miserably disappointed face.

He takes a sip of his water to swish about to remove the desert sand and blood from his mouth, then spitting it onto the dirt mound beside his door.

To remove the remnant taste of blood, he tackles a snack his young siblings brought in for him. A single piece of grilled leek and roasted sweet-root lay bound together by a thread of lemongrass on a plate. One bite is all it took to remedy his situation.

He slings his burlap sash diagonally over his chest before leaning over his work table to claim his tools. Picks, chisels, scrapers, one trawl, and a punch hammer are among his daily tackle. He holds it all against his sash before twirling up the fabric and tightening the noose to lock it against his chest. He throws his mattock over his right shoulder and grabs the rest of his snack before leaving his room. His glowing eyes brighten the way through a tunnel suitable for two rabbits to pass shoulder to shoulder. This tunnel has an oval shape over flat ground. The curved walls are left patterned in the footprints from hurried rabbits.

"Damn it! I almost died!" Haver screams. "Rhy, why did you leave this shit in the doorway?"

"Because, Haver, you never take out the trash!" Rhy screams back.

Cecil smiles and hurries by unnoticed while the two brothers continue arguing.

Cecil passes through one of the three living rooms, this one being the deepest in the den. Leathery cave grass covers the floor as carpet should. It is a hardy plant capable of withstanding the abuse dealt by rabbit feet.

Cecil dares not disturb Maegin or Sahrua, who have taken refuge on the furniture.

Maegin, at seven years old, sits with her legs crossed like a lady would. She remains dressed for labor wearing rugged shorts and a heavy tunic with gloves by her side. Her midnight fur leaves only one striking attribute on her coat, that being a V-shape of white fur around her left eye. The white along the edge of her vision does not distract her from her studies. The season she learned to read, she disappeared into books. A lone candle is all her dark eyes need to see the words on the pages of Lily Flasquete and the Mosquito Riders Guild.

Sahrua, who is nine, lays upside down on the opposite couch with her legs over the backrest. She is the only Thumper with pure-white fur. She has an excessive number of candles around her, including one on the floor beneath her head. The book she reads, The Scarce Fugue, hovers above her face, though it gradually loses altitude until it collides with her snout. Upon impact, she elevates the book back to where it was to restart the passage. Cecil taught his younger siblings this very trick. You read until you become tired, but you keep reading, or else the book will smack you in that wiggling nose. Her dark blue eyes flutter as she loses the battle and the book once more collides with her face.

A tapestry of the family emblem hangs on the far wall between bookshelves. A blue rabbit paw gripping a brass mining pick accompanies the Southern Star at the base of the pick handle.

Near all of the walls of this den is reinforced concrete. Anything representing wooden roots is of concrete or plaster sculptures painted to resemble the natural thing. Articulated furniture fills each room. Each had been decorated with artisanal carvings by the very lapin children who crafted them.

Continuing down the next hall, Cecil has no choice but to throw himself against the wall as a young sibling comes racing by him. "Damn it, Garrett! Aren't you on hatch duty?!"

Garrett shouts through laughter, "Not until tonight!" The glow in his irises has begun to catch, and many years before it should. Garrett is only four years old, so the only way his eyes took the glow is likely because he learned to bribe older siblings for drinks and snacks he should not be having.

Cecil could swear he saw Garrett holding a stuffed animal. "An alligator in a red cape?" He realizes he best hug the wall again.

"Damn him! Garrett, give Andya's doll back!" Cali shouts while in hot pursuit. At eight and agile as she is, she fails to keep up with Garrett.

Eight-year-old Gavin also struggles to keep up with little Garrett. "This little hopper can bolt!" he shouts with exasperation to his eldest brother.

"Garrett! Get back here, you little shit!" the furious ten-year-old Kiistavo screams while in pursuit. His green eyes remain entirely dark.

A panting Marin, of seven, and a desperate Dyson, of six, each race by before Andya comes around the bend with her arms outstretched and her open hands leading the way. She is hyperventilating with terror as she chases after them.

"Andya, Garrett stole your doll again?" Cecil asks.

She cries, "He took Roxy!" Andya is three years old, and a toddler version of their mother, Laela, with black fur, white spots all in the same parts of her coat, and dark green eyes.

Cecil continues walking with the day's first real smile. He knows none of his siblings will let harm come to Andya's unique dolls. She has quite the collection of uniquely designed characters, each sewn together by Kurinne.

Anything made by Kurinne is a treasure.

Approaching the newest tunnel reveals a section of a damaged wall marred by a deep lapin foot. Squarely planted in the center of the collapsed soil like a signature, Cecil will only need one or two guesses to figure out which little shit head risked collapsing the whole place for a sliver of attention. The scent of freshly uncovered dirt hits his nose anew, so he checks the walls all along the new tunnel for any structural damage.

Before entering the new chamber, the stink of mud, clay, and kerosene fills his nose. The carved tunnel leading into the new room already has a floor of limestone brick laid -- the beautiful work of his brothers, Keel, and Desmond. Temporary shelves are on the wall for storing tools and supplies. A jar of glowing yellow sap from the Shimmering Blades graces the middle rack. This jar is a light source, but it can become a lethal cocktail if hurled at an intruder.

The spacing between the limestone bricks is unkind to his feet. The rough edges beneath each step he takes pull at his fur, a discomfort that will go away when the floor is grouted and sealed.

Five future bedrooms connect to the main chamber of the expansion. Toward Cecil's right lies the first excavated chamber. It is somewhat complete and ready to be tiled.

Reifa caresses the soft glow-roots from atop her ladder. Sapling glow-roots can be dim and squishy before they turn into firm glass. Her curious, glowing eyes absorb the sparkling light of the new plant. The seventeen-year-old is Cecil's oddest of oddball siblings. Baggy shorts are about ready to slip from her waist. Her midriff is bare until a most slim black tube top clings tight around her chest. Unlike most of her siblings, her fur is mostly white, with a few spots of midnight blue freckled around her face and shoulders.

Yaril clambers around the base of Reifa's ladder.

Yaril is an apprentice to both Maela and Keel. At fifteen, he has been learning several trades. He crawls across the floor to measure the curvature for whatever Keel has planned for this first bedroom. He has solid midnight fur save for a few spots of white on his left abdomen and belly. His blue eyes appear devoid of empathy. He is quick to smile but seldom means it. He is more immediate to fiercely bicker, especially over trivialities that risk demeaning his position as a buck. He wears the same comfortable tunic as Cecil, but Yaril's is falling apart around the shoulders and collar.

Cecil takes a mental note that the first and fifth rooms are near completion. Once the excavation of the final chamber is complete, it will be up to him to build each kit's ideal bed and cabinetry. Fifteen kits will live in this expansion, giving them their micro-den in this far-reaching part of their Nesterly home.

He passes by Kurinne's folded wheelchair leaning on the wall by the entry. His tired smile vanishes from his face the second he spots Maela's feet sticking out of the far-right ditch. He was subconsciously praying she would be anywhere but here digging that damn hole.

After clambering back out, Maela sits quietly at the decimated wall between the first and second chambers. She dug this pit to harvest out the clay, only to discover there is a trove of lost bits of metal and crystal. So far, nothing of great value, but she is determined to destroy the foundation between the first and second chambers out of spite for Cecil.

At least, this is how Cecil feels about it.

Maela is the second eldest child of the Thumper-Noble family. She is nineteen years old. Her endlessly wiggling pink nose is different from other siblings, who mostly possess a dark snout. Her blue irises glow softly. She keeps her long black hair and ears bound beneath a linen cap and wears a loose doublet made of cheap but durable material. She is rather small compared to her same-aged siblings, meriting her need to wear a shawl to boast a more formidable size. She sits on folded legs in a way that hurts Cecil to see. With hands caked in clay and soggy crud, she does not seem to care how often she wipes her brow with them. A container of brushes and rags rests to her right. An open tackle box full of prospecting tools remains on her left.

Alongside Maela is their precious, fragile sister, Kurinne.

Before Cecil gets noticed, he observes Kurinne wearing the biggest smile in the world. She appears so happy she could cry.

Everyone's clothing is made by the textile crew lead by Alic and Gordon, with a few surviving exceptions. Kurinne was one of those exceptions, having fashioned many of the tunics and pants for most of the elder siblings until her disorders began piling up in recent years. She has since stepped down from tedious work. Siblings still choose to wear their final pieces of clothing Kurinne fashioned even after all of these years.

Yaril, especially, despite his tunic going tattered and torn, cherishes Kurinne's final creation as he wears it daily, without fail.

Kurinne scratches slow and careful into her sister's notebook to document every piece Maela uncovers. Once her brother's gigantic feet become apparent, she looks up at Cecil with such burning, fiery blue eyes. Her eyes have become the brightest in the whole den due to her odd diet and medications. She has not been able to chew her food with her degenerating teeth and muscles. The soup that Carr prepares for her has medicine and vitamins to help manage her pain, but at a cost that she ingests more illuminating ingredients than other siblings. Her smile is innocent, but heartbreaking to witness.

Cecil always asks himself how someone so warm and loving could have accumulated such a list of painful, terminal illnesses.

Cassidy leaves the third room and crosses over toward the first room to check on Yaril. She gives Cecil's shoulder a nudge and glares at him once his eyes meet hers. She points two fingers to her eyes and then aims those fingers back at him.

He averts his eyes and drops his head to apologize, "Sorry, Cassie."

Cassidy blushes to her brother's apology. Even with being thirteen, she acts like a second matriarch. She is not used to her eldest sibling being this kind to her right off the bat, especially with how Cassidy treats him. She has a slim midriff and a loose-fitting coat over a smaller shirt. A tight pair of twill pants squeeze her hips and thighs. Tired glowing sapphires tell him that she is once more profoundly disappointed in his being late.

He now stands in silence and waits for Maela's acknowledgment. He knows well not to say a word while she scrapes away at her work. She finds the next rock is just that after splitting it apart in the rotary crusher. She pauses during this moment of disappointment and tilts her chin up. "About time," she says with a soft voice. Even if she cannot look at her brother, Maela seems to be in a good mood.

Cecil feels the weight of the world on his shoulder the moment Maela speaks with raw disappointment spilling free. "I'm sorry. Maela, do you need any help before I get the lift started?"

"Dad might tell you to stop dumping the dirt and rock on the surface."

His left ear lowers to his nape, and his right remains erect. "For filling the chasm?"

"Yeah."

Cecil nods after a moment in contemplation. The chances of their father wanting to save the rest of the excavation waste for filling the hole they found is quite possible, and if so, Cecil can get back to his studies much sooner. Until he hears such an order from his father, he will continue dumping the waste on the surface.

Maela fills her lungs to let out a heavy sigh. She turns her head a few more degrees toward Cecil, just not enough to still yet look at him. "Best you get to the wheel, Cecil. The buckets are full, and everyone's been waiting." As if she knew what he was thinking, she adds, "Until Dad says otherwise, might as well keep at it, right?"

"Yeah."

Kurinne is staring amicably at Cecil. "Was it a new dream?"

Cecil has had two hundred seventeen unique dreams. Of the ones forced upon him, at least. He will have two or three of these such dreams each night. Which ones he has are never up to him. He remains forced to live through the first-person events as if playing a character in a script. On rare occasions, that script may change with more detail added to a scene. Nearly every night, he hears them slip up and talk between his dreams. This day was the first day in a long time he could listen to their names.

Their names are Shale, the lizard who massages the dreams' visuals into his brain, and Eth'Dolamere, the director of those dreams.

Cecil shakes his head, "No, Kurinne. I've had these three before."

Kurinne places her quill into a cup and stretches her tired fingers out. "Which one was the last? Was it, of the skyships? Or--or the big tree?"

"WAS IT MONSTERS?!" Ike shouts from across the chamber. The obnoxious five-year-old is always hungry to know about the monsters.

"Yes, Ike. It was the dream with the desert and the giant monster under the sand."

Ike throws his hands into the air and shouts, "Cecil got 'aten again!"

"Cecil was eaten--again, Ike." Maegin corrects as she points toward her left eye and taps the bottom of the white-furred V. She enters the chamber and walks by Cecil, stopping when she reaches the dumbly smiling fat brother of hers. Ike is two years younger than Maegin, but they appear about the same age because Ike eats twice as much as any sibling in his litter. He is quickly turning into the next Brilando, which would make their father quite pleased.

Ike shrugs and averts his chubby face away from Maegin. He replies with a mocking voice, "Whatever, Maegin."

Maegin gives up before there is an argument. She places her book on the shelf at the entrance before heading into the fourth room. She grabs a used chisel and gets to work on the limestone floor to continue smoothing, where she wants her cabinet to go.

Kurinne holds her hand over her mouth and clears the phlegm into a tissue. With her hand still under her chin, she asks Cecil, "Cecil? Was anything different?"

Cecil thinks for a moment. The dream is still as lucid as Kurinne's brilliant eyes. He nods. "Yeah, come to think of it, I had more vivid thoughts or memories. I felt that I left friends behind in Glurothri. Or, not friends. They felt more like obligations I couldn't trust."

"So it _IS_the Burning Continent!" Kurinne cheers in her soft voice. She waves a hand at Maela. "I told you, Maela! Cecil _does_dream of real places and Animalia!"

Cecil cannot stop the light chuckle escaping him.

Maela silently uncovers the next clump of dark soil. She gives a flat, "Mhm, whatever you say, Kurinne."

Not every sibling believes in Cecil's dreams, even when it leaves bits of itself in his fur. While many siblings believe he is faking his dreams to avoid work or otherwise because he has some undiagnosed mental disorder, other siblings believe the duo who forces the dreams upon Cecil is trying to prepare him for something legendary.

Kurinne frowns at Maela before she wipes her frown off and smiles at Cecil. "Do you have any other names? Or species? Were you able to see more than the two skunks and the dog with the sword? Or what was that other Animalia with the surfboard?"

"The wildebeest and his sandboard? No, but uh, I felt as if I could almost grab at the memories of those I left behind. Like, I could almost feel who they were. The Animalia who weren't with us, I mean. I could feel that I knew where they were going. Another country or city called Daemascus? A crying hyena or something was leading that half of the team. She was someone I was dubious about, and I couldn't find myself capable of trusting her." He lowers his head once more while he slowly turns toward the lift. "I'll add the new details to our journal during class."

"Yeah, you do that! Cecil, I'll come by tomorrow and reread it if you don't mind." Kurinne says in her sweet, tired voice. She looks down at her notes and smiles. "A_hyena_, huh? A Toothy, no doubt. I never heard of them shedding a tear, though."

The journal they share is but one of two he keeps. The shared journal contains censored aspects, as it had been advised by his father to keep out the nitty-gritty details. There are so many curious siblings, such as Ike, who begs daily for someone to read one of the entries from the public dream journal. The other journal, the one he shares with his father, hosts every single detail and many sketches of whatever he can recall. The last thing he needs is for any of his siblings to know the sort of _Monster_he is in most of his dreams.

He passes by many of his tiny siblings. Janice, Raine, Kanna, Dyson, Liesca, and Narsil. Cecil observes Macky showing Glenn and Elil, where he wants his bed in the chamber. Sarina and Miranda are in their room, chatting away as they wait for buckets to free up.

Cecil pulls the locking bar out of the gears and stuffs it into his sash. He swings a leg over the seat and takes the handle. While pedaling, he looks to his siblings as more come out of the surrounding chambers. They get into position in front of him, each hoisting a bucket of rocks and dirt.

His chair faces his machine -- in case he needs to stop pedaling. The little rabbits had already hung buckets on the few hooks they could reach. As soon as he begins grinding the gears, the machine creaks to life. He takes it slow, giving his siblings enough time to put buckets full of dirt or rock onto the new hooks.

As he pedals, chains pull on cogwheels within the octagonal platform below. These gears turn more giant gears inside of the platform. Those gears then turn a belt to rotate more gears built into the face of the wall. These gears rotate more full gears that move the webbed line fastened to the lifter. The notched system of hooks and rope resembles a nautical ladder. For the buckets to be hung safely by the wire, the hooks remain upright within the notches. As the gears turn, the nautical ladder rises toward the ceiling. New hooks sprout from below for more buckets.

As these buckets reach the ceiling, they disappear into a vertical tunnel that leads to the surface. The buckets enter the Darklight Forest, being a forest of petrified trees and flora.

The buckets take a ride as the next wheel in the device turns the nautical ladder onto its side, rotating the hooks. The buckets travel over the glowing blue field of grass that blankets the forest floor. When the buckets reach the end of their journey, the nautical ladder rotates around a metal frame strapped to a crystal-like faceted tree trunk. This turn guides the buckets into an upside-down position, noisily dumping their contents into a ditch pulled open by stone-like roots, before returning to the vertical tunnel on the opposite side of the machinery. The hooks have a far enough curl since Cecil accounted for the bucket flip in the hook design. Not a single bucket is lost.

After ten minutes, the first buckets sent to the surface returns down the opposite side of the rope. A reverse gear with spinning bars bumps and drops the empty buckets off the hooks and down a chute on either side of the wall, letting the hooks travel underneath the main gear and returning to where they began for a new bucket. The buckets are small enough for the kits to use, and there is a manual grinder available to break down larger stones to better fit into the buckets. Someone, as prominent as Ike, for example, is energetic enough and trained to use it.

The machine was never a necessary thing. Once Cecil had shown the schematics to his father after a most inspiring dream, Grean was all for building it. He was proud of his son to have considered every aspect of the machine with suggested modifications drawn through a sketchbook just in case one part or another fails. They built this machine while digging out the main chamber and when the ceiling was half as high. It has been the sole method used to dispose of rock waste after that.

Since they have to utilize buckets small enough for the littlest of kits to carry, it takes a few hours of pedaling before Cecil can tell he is making progress. The pile of rubble left behind in the final room is showing signs of being cleared out. One more day of the pulley machine is all it should take to finish. Cecil turns his head to the right to look at the second chamber.

Maela and Kurinne are not only prospecting. They make sure none of the kits sneak into the second chamber.

Especially Ike.

The reason for the security is because of the chasm. When Cecil was hacking away at the floor, he discovered a hole near thirty or so feet deep. After a visual inspection, they found a reptilian skeleton resting at the bottom. Black spindling mushrooms grow around and across the bones. Black mushrooms like this only grow around magical things influenced by Shade. Especially evil things. At least, this is what Essa had said.

If not for Essa's fantastical thoughts, none would be wiser to the risk. She could be entirely wrong but it remains far more exciting to play along, Cecil thinks.

Essa is the lead archivist for the family. She crawls through books, ledgers, and encyclopedias during her free time. Grean taught her the power of knowledge, and Essa had done well to record the progress for everyone's field of expertise, including writing a four hundred page textbook (with drawings) on Renee's exploration of fungus, fertilizers and how to masterfully grow a subterranean dark-farm. She identified the black fungus as a hyperactive species, but she could not identify the skeletal remains of the creature without sounding like a religious nut job.

They voluntarily left out mention of the skeleton when telling their father. Grean had such a calm reaction at first as if someone had already told him there would be a hole. Grean did not know about the dead thing until his children insisted on him having a look. Since laying eyes upon the bones, their father changed labor tasks across the den. The skeleton was the only variable that left their father shaken.

A snake with arms or a lizard missing its feet? The length of the coiled spine should set this snake easily at twenty or so feet in length as far as Essa could tell. Yaril was guessing the snake may be closer to twenty-five feet in length. Cecil agreed it was somewhere in the middle.

When their father came to see the bones, he seemed at odds with his thoughts. At first, Grean looked at the hole in the second room as one would an old friend he had not seen in decades. When he peered down to witness the dead thing, his expression changed. Cecil saw it the second it happened. He transitioned from a calm, knowing demeanor to one filled with confusion and fear. He kept the youngest rabbits far from the hole and made it clear to Ike not to pee in the chasm.

For two days, Grean helped only Cecil and Desmond level the ground around the hole. They need enough flat space so Vick can prepare a crane and rope for a dive. Cecil had never seen his father move so deliberately as if he has been planning to deal with this chasm his entire life. Grean would not tell his children what the skeleton is. It was not until Cecil reminded he had seen similar creatures in his dreams that his father finally shared the knowledge with his eldest sons and daughters.

The skeleton is what most of civilization calls a Serepentian, a rare creature that is at odds with modern culture. The rest of civilization calls them, The Enemy. They are brilliant Animalia, and ancient, though why one is dead in a hole buried nearly a hundred feet below the surface of this dark valley bodes quite the mystery.

Grean did not know Cecil was closely watching him that first time he peered into the hole. Grean would stare into the dark chasm with regret melting from his old face. There is something frightfully awful about the family discovering the remains of Serepentian. The wary expression his Dad made had never left Cecil's mind. Deep and personal betrayal is the closest description to putting words to that miserably dreadful expression.

He made it quite clear; he will do more than spank any children who dare cross the threshold of the second chamber. Cecil first thought his father was joking when he promised as far as to say he would leave a child on the surface to fend for themselves.

He was not joking, and he added that this discovery must be kept a secret from everyone outside the den because if the Guard comes, the rabbits will lose their home or possibly advance to the tax collectors for not immediately reporting this find.

Dad, what do you know about dark wizards? Cecil wonders. He only hopes his father does not think he and his siblings are dull. Books line many shelves across the Den-House of Thumper-Noble for a reason. Cecil and Essa especially, they know the lore about these snake-ilk. Serepentian, worshipers of Ouron, Master of The Core.

He has met many Serepentian in his dreams, as well as their god, Ouron. To say the snake god haunts his daily thoughts is an understatement. He swears he can feel this snake coiling and writhing about within the center of their world over a thousand miles beneath his feet simply because he believes the ancient reptile is real.

Reminding himself to watch his siblings, he turns his head forward before his neck goes stiff. After hours of steady pedaling, Cecil confesses he is bored.

Tired? No.

The eldest lapin child of the den does this sort of work every day for as many days as it takes to excavate any number of chambers. His body has come to show what he has accomplished. He is the one to wear the steel-soled hock-guards and to give an excellent rock-splitting thump to granite. He knows how to hold back the power in his legs because one blow too hard could destroy the foundation of their entire home.

The sound of small brass bells jingling signals that lunch is on the way.

Like a chorus failing to sing in unison, the young rabbits throughout the expansion cheer, "NAL!" and, "FOOD!"

The brass bell is Nal's stylish pair of earrings. She wears them during lunch deliveries, so everyone knows she is around the corner with food.

Nal is eighteen. Her short hair remains contained within a hairnet, but not her ears, which wag freely and jingle the bells. Though she was the runt of her litter, she now stands four inches taller than Cecil, making her the second tallest in the family. Despite being a supple stick, her lean figure is useful in the kitchen where she works with several large, broad-shoulders brothers.

Nal carries a large wooden box in front of her with straps going over her bony shoulders. She wears a backpack full of utensils, condiments, and a thermos with chilled or hot tea. She has the kind of eyes that always appear impressed with what they see. Bright blue eyes that fondly share light with her siblings, of which swarm her as she kneels beside Kurinne. She opens the box, resting against her stomach to pass around assigned containers. Each rabbit painted art plus their name on top of their lunch tin, and each contains its unique lunch inside.

Kurinne opens her box of steamed vegetables, steamed enough to be mushy and easy to swallow. Nothing that would flare her stomach pain, of course.

Maela turns from her messy labor to run her hands through muddy waters. She uses soap and rinses her hands in a bowl of cleaner water before leaning over Nal for her lunch. She gives her sister a grateful kiss on the cheek and sits in the narrow space between Nal and Kurinne. She opens her box to find four steamed rice buns, fulfilling an addiction to the hot, sticky bean paste. Mikna has worked real magic on perfecting the balance of wholesome texture with sweetness. She licks her lips as her mouth waters.

Only Mikna and Carr get a smile out of her without being in the room.

Cassidy waits for everyone to get their food. She brings Cecil his tin while he still pedals. He has to make sure every bucket comes back before he locks the gears. She waits patiently beside him with her tin beneath his. She stares at him with admiration, appearing to have forgiven her eldest brother for failing to wake up sooner. It is sporadic for her to be this delightful, and that makes Cecil feel on edge.

He watches the final buckets drop into the chutes before hopping off of the seat. He manually rotates the gears until the slots align and insert the key to lock the machine before he accepts lunch. "Thank you, Cassie."

"Sure thing, Sleepy-Ceese." she teases.

Each lapin gets precisely the food they desired in their box. Ike buries his face into his larger tin. He has twice as much to eat as Cecil. Everyone has become used to watching him eat the feral way. If challenged, he would argue it is more efficient to eat solely with the face. "There are fewer dishes that way." he would say even as no one trusts him with doing the dishes. No one pays him mind -- none wish to lose their appetite.

Cecil walks between his scattered siblings sitting on the floor and makes it to the other side to give Nal a nudge on her cheek with his, whisker to whisker. "Thank you for the food, Nal," he says as he takes a small flask from her backpack. The one with his name on it.

Nal smiles with pride at her eldest brother. "I heard you were late again."

He growls at how everyone already knows.

"He dreamed of the desert again," Kurinne says before taking a bite of mushy vegetables.

"Awe?" Nal coos. She turns to face Cecil. "Which one? The sandy hills? The lioness? The elephants? The giant bugs?" She narrows her eyes. "The mechanical scorpion and the sandy wizards?"

Cecil quietly laughs. "The big desert." He sits on the platform edge to his machine.

"Ah," A smile grows across Nal's lips. "Cecil was eaten again."

"That's what I said!" Ike shouts. His mouth is full of food. "OW!" he shouts when Maegin makes a fist. She refrains from hitting him but makes the motion to, and Ike felt it without it happening.

She beat Cassidy to it.

The two girls laugh.

Nal sighs. "You have to stop getting yourself eaten by monsters, Cecil." She pats his shoulder as she sits beside him on the octagonal platform. "We belong to the wolves, remember?"

"I wasn't trying to be eaten. I was very calm. Besides being anxious about getting crushed under sand." He stares with melancholy at the painting on his tin. "Being eaten only felt like an inconvenience. I think--" The top of his lunchbox has a black lid and a white circle in the middle. He gives an uncomfortable smile. "I think I felt sorry for the thing that ate me. I believe that I was going to kill it out of spite." Everyone assumes he painted the Eternal Midnight Moon on his lunchbox because that is all you see in the sky of the Accursed Valley. The featureless, unnatural moon and how it remains forever vigilant. Immaculate since creation. Unfettered from reality. Bland and immobile beneath the dark veil of an empty, cloudless sky.

This painting is not the moon, as everyone thinks.

This white circle is the pearl that he possesses in his dreams. Within those dreams, the trinket helps him communicate with someone across the world, that someone being a young archivist with a wealth of knowledge. He has been searching for this pearl for his entire life and has yet to find it. His dreams had made him addicted to always having that object and her knowledge. Whenever he thinks of something complicated, or he gets a funny idea, he catches himself, reaching toward an empty pocket so he can tell his Archivist all about it.

"I guess, if you have the same dream over and over, you know it and become less afraid," Nal claims.

She does not understand him, not like how Kurinne does. Nal does not know that the dreams all play out like a scripted story. Each time it is the same story, but there may be more detail or minor changes. As if each dream is a short story and the author edits finer details each time Eth'Dolamere reads it to an audience. The older Cecil gets, the more he seems to understand who he is in these dreams as the gruesome detail becomes withheld less and less.

A cold, well meditated, and ruthless person seems to be the point of the dreams.

"Yeah, that might be it," he says. It was a cop-out. He immediately feels Kurinne's eyes on him. He imagines she knows what he is thinking, that he was never afraid of being swallowed. Nal has never read Cecil's dream journals the same way Kurinne and a few others had.

He finds the opportunity to escape the questionnaire by burying his face into rice.

"Thanks, Nal," Reifa says. She sits on the seat, meant for pedaling the machine. Her face is swiftly buried into the tin, gobbling away at fresh greens. This act may be where Ike learned it.

Nal momentarily tends to the kits.

Cecil takes the steamed sweet-root in wax paper. The first bite woke his salivary glands up. He gets halfway through the sweet-root before he puts it down and takes the two-prong fork and spears a tender square of sauteed Arctium root that rests on a sticky bed of rice. He loves the tingle of sweet and salty coating his tongue. The light in his eyes brightens from the taste. He voluntarily closes his eyes to savor each bite.

Nal keeps busy checking to make sure each of her siblings are satisfied with their meals. Soon, she rejoins Cecil, sitting adjacent with her brother. "This is like, a _purge_for roots and leaves," she whispers while looking over their little siblings.

Cecil let escape a chuckle as he chews down the other half of his sweet-root. The caramelized coating on it sticks to his lips after each bite. "Don't say that too loud around Reifa," he says. He tilts his head back so Nal can acknowledge Reifa -- who whispers sweet apologies to her grass before she eats them.

Nal clears her throat and whispers, "Yeah. Sorry. Do you like the sauce?" She leans over to look into Cecil's near-empty lunch tin, finding minimal residue left where the Arctium roots were.

Cecil swallows. "My Stars, Nal! Incredible!" he praises, knowing it was likely Nal who made the seasoning.

"Oh yeah!" Nal remembers. She places a soft hand on Cecil's shoulder and studies the ceiling to recall the proper words. "Dad summons you and the usual culprits for an early meeting. It seems like you all are going to be spedunking today."

"Spelunking?"

Nal laughs. "Yeah, what did I say?"

"You said Spedunking."

Nal hit Cecil's arm as she laughs. "Wow, go Nal," she says, then quietly adds, "Don't take Andy," she commands it flatly. Almost threateningly.

Andy? Cecil feels his throat tightening up from enmity. "Andesto is not part of the danger team."

"Good."

Cecil glances away during the awkward silence. Nal is eighteen years old, and Andesto is sixteen. They both work in the kitchen under Carr and Mikna's lead, respectively. Together, Nal and Andesto are deeply involved in something quite distressing to the family. It has been a rotten embarrassment to those who know and a confusing situation for their one brother who keeps finding the two being intimate.

Poor Brilando.

The Thumper-Noble family does not condone incest. Neighboring families allow incest to bolster their population for the tax collections. However, a half-noble family revokes its status if incest occurs despite it being the very life and blood of Golden City royalty.

Nal and Andesto's frivolous romance will cost lives.

The first tax-collection is coming. If these two continue this charade, Nal and Andesto will get taxed before Kurinne.

"Thank you for reminding me about the meeting," he says. He honestly cannot remember if there even was a meeting today. Nal still has her hand on his shoulder. Cecil senses Maela, Kurinne, and Reifa, all looking suspiciously at him for not shrugging her off.

Reifa is the only one smirking curiously.

"I knew the dive was coming up, and I couldn't remember if it was today or another day," Cecil says, changing the subject away from Andesto.

"Yeah," Nal removes her hand and stands to stretch. "Dad may want to dump the rest of the rock and dirt down there. Or we can use the hole as a toilet."

Ike shoots his ears up to the notion of using the chasm for toiletry. He says nothing while aiming his plump face toward the hole and wanting to be the first to defecate in it.

Nal sighs at Ike's delightful expression. Her eyes find Cecil's. "You may want to stop dumping the dirt."

"If there weren't black fungus growing over that skeleton, it'd make an ideal place to dump rock, but I don't want to disturb that fungus stuff without properly killing it."

They both share a glance at the hole in the second room.

"Don't forget to drink," Nal says.

Cecil has not yet touched the flask beside him. He gasps and flips the cap with his thumb and throws back a swig of hot apple cider. A squeal of delight to the sweet, sugary alcohol bursts free from him. He quietly howls his approval with an exhale that turns into a mighty belch.

All of his siblings freeze in place when they hear it. Some whip their heads at Cecil and host an open mouth. They roar into laughter or disgust.

Kurinne tries to do the same with her thermos of hot tea. She fails to burp. She never did figure out how to belch.

Maela smiles at Kurinne for the effort.

Cassidy walks over to groom her fingers through Kurinne's long, straight black hair. "There there. One day you'll burp," she softly says. "And when that day comes, I will bop the side of your head like I would anyone else for being so disgusting."

"I don't see you bopping Cecil's head!" Ike shouts.

Cassidy locks her fiery eyes on Ike. "I would if--" She stops speaking when she watches Ike gulping down air over and over to build up a world-shattering assault. "Don't you dare!"

A belch of legends erupts. Ike's belch starts low and well defined until it takes a steep hike in pitch and ends with him screaming out in pain, with Cassidy and Maegin each pulling on one of his ears.

Cecil looks at Nal, expecting that she too will try to burp if she had anything to drink. He presumes she ate an hour ago. The cooking staff is either the first or the last to eat. Nal is busy laughing as two sisters torment and punish Ike by tickling him.

Maela shakes her head. "Don't make him throw up."

"Oh, yes. Please don't." Kurinne begs.

"Or you both are cleaning it up!" Reifa adds.

Yaril sighs. He puts his food container down in front of his crossed legs and watches the show, knowing he will get sent to fetch Haver and Rhy to clean the pending mess.

Cecil takes another swig of his hot cider and muffles his natural burp.

"OKAY! I give up!" Ike cries. "Stop! I'm going to pee!" he shouts through his wheezing.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Don't get Ike sick." Maela says. Her usual tone is returning.

Cassidy releases her brother and brushes her hair aside. She beams a playful, but apologetic smile at her sisters.

Maegin continues battling Ike a moment longer before she too lets up. Ike is halfway to catch his breath before he pounces Maegin to tickle her back. She screams with laughter and lifts her feet to get them between her and her brother.

Ike is not dominant in the counter-attack for very long. Five seconds into his attack, Maegin shoves her feet out, launching Ike into the air and over their siblings.

For a naturally talented lapin, Ike lands gracefully on his feet even after soaring ten feet across the chamber.

"HA! Do that again!" Ike shouts between a belch. He rushes back to Maegin. His foot squishes inside of Yaril's food tin, making his next step slip across the dirty ground, but he catches himself.

"You little fuck!" Yaril roars. All kits hush and freeze in fear as he leaps to his feet to grip Ike by the collar of his tunic. He pulls a fist back. "You stepped in my food!" His dark blue eyes ignite with celeste light. Frigid embers emit from his eyes as air condenses fluidly around him.

"Yaril! Calm down!" Cassidy quickly begs. Her hands are raised, pleading with him.

"Sorry!" Ike jeers with an innocent smile on his face. His eyes are wide because he knows Yaril will go through with hitting him. Ike lifts his leg to bring his knee against his chest until his foot is beside his head, sticky with greenery and sprouts. "You can have it back!"

Yaril growls with fury. The light pouring from his eyes freezes Ike's clumps of food solid. His chilling frost does not inflict harm to any rabbit in the room. Yaril reels his open hand back to slap his brother in the face.

"Yaril! Stop!" Maela shouts.

It matters not. Ike is going to get it right in the face. Right in that smug grin.

"Yaril."

Yaril calms down the second he hears her voice. As if flipping a switch, the frigid light in his eyes flicker off. His irises return to a dark blue, and he pulls Ike into an arm-lock. "Yes, Kurinne?"

Kurinne holds her lunchbox out for him. "You can finish mine. I'm full." She is smiling so hard that tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes.

Yaril's eyes lament for Kurinne's kindness. She ate less than half of her share. His throat tightens up when he speaks, "But--no, I'm good. I was full anyway. Thank you, Kurinne." He releases Ike and sits down where he was, staring silently at his stamped food and using all of his might not to cry.

They all know it.

All of the rabbits in the chamber look upon Kurinne's kindness with heartbreak. She has been the kindest to all long before her symptoms began. They know what will happen to her weak and frail body, when the wolves come to collect.

Lunch persisted on much quieter after, and Ike promised Yaril his next sweet-root treat. Yaril appreciated that and completely forgave Ike.

When lunch was over, Nal collected the tins and trash into her crate. She received love and blessings from a dozen siblings before returning to the kitchen. Nal left Kurinne in charge of distributing the cubes of sugar. Sour, bitter suckers that dissolve in a minute.

In a short conversation after lunch, Cecil, Maela, Kurinne, Cassidy, Reifa, and Yaril agree to stop disposing of rock and dirt until they find out what Dad wants to do about the chasm.

The youngest rabbits gather up their tools and valuable belongings before lining up at the exit. Eventually, Yaril stumbles down the hall to guide his siblings out, returning only to take his things.

"You did a count? Everyone was in the line?" Maela asks.

"Ov coursh," Yaril slurs with a drooping stare. His apple cider hit him harder than the others, letting his older sisters see that Mikna once against double-spiked his cider.

Maela throws a tarp over the clay pit to protect it from drying out. She packs up her chemicals and tools.

Kurinne finishes her notes before she packs her knapsack. Yaril helps her back into her wheelchair gently enough as though she may break. She laughs at how careful he is, then wondering if he is the one needing help. "You okay there? Yaril, you're losing your balance!"

"I'm fine." he chuckles as they leave.

Cecil is the last to leave the expansion. He takes his mattock and heads through the winding and twisting tunnels. Cecil minds his mattock as he passes young siblings heading to or from class.

Desmond comes around the bend and stops in front of Cecil. He holds his mouth open, telling Cecil to pause so he can say something. "Cecil, you saw Vick anywhere?"

Cecil shakes his head. "Sorry, Desmond. I came from the expansion, and he's not that way. Did you check his room or Vick's foundry?"

Desmond hums. "I came from the forge. Keel and Sena weren't there either."

"Sena should have lessons all day. I don't know about Keel." Cecil says.

"Oh, shit. You're right. Sena's class." Desmond is sixteen years old. He has long, silky-white hair combed smoothly down the right side of his head. He is a rarity when it comes to where his white patches formed, as his entire fur coat is the same midnight blue as Cecil, save for the hair. The first question he hears from a stranger is if he bleached his hair. He is one of the strongest of Cecil's brothers. His arms are big from lifting. He has trained an array of skills and is very good at everything, making him a most dependable buck.

"I'm off to meet with Dad. I'll let Vick know you're looking for him. If he hadn't forgotten, that's where he'll be. Why didn't you go check Dad's study?"

Desmond holds his hands up to shrug. "Oh, I was looking for him to remind him, so if he's already there, then, mission accomplished."

"He's not as forgetful as I am."

Desmond nods to that as he shrugs yet again. "Yeah, if anyone were to remember, it would be Vick, but," He grins. "You know how our weaponsmith gets when he's deeply involved in making something." Desmond bobbles his head when slipping by Cecil and down the tunnel with a goodbye wave. "See you later, Dreamer. I still have to find Keel. If you see him, let Keel know I'm looking."

Cecil tilts to see around the bend and says, "Yeah. See you at dinner, Desmond,"