Tales of the Wastelander Ch. 53 - Teaser (Patreon)

“Our people do not travel the surface often,” Kerrik stated as he looked back toward the dark city.

“No?”

“It is… uncomfortable,” Kerrik stated, having taken a beat to find the correct word for it.

“Because of the light?” Ben questioned.

“Partly, but mostly it is because of the sky,” the young Underkin explained.

“The sky?” Ben blinked and Kerrik gave a small, almost embarrassed nod.

“It is…” he started, his eyes drifting upward, “…too open.”

Nobody laughed or even smiled because after a few moments of thinking, they all understood. The Hollowborn, Kerrik’s people, had spent over six hundred years beneath stone ceilings. To them, the open sky wasn’t freedom, but more akin to exposure. Ben looked up at the sky himself and imagined how it must be for the Underkin as clouds drifted lazily across the moon.

“I never thought about that,” he murmured and Kerrik’s expression softened just a fraction.

“Our children… they are taught from infancy to know where the nearest wall is,” Kerrik said, speaking quietly. “Where the nearest shelter is, how to listen to and feel what the stone is telling us. Because when one knows how to listen, it tells us many things.”

“The vibrations… they tell you what is happening, depending on what you feel,” Ben guessed as he followed the gesture.

“You understand?” Kerrik asked, looking at him.

“I think so,” Ben replied as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’ve been feeling us move.”

“Yes,” Kerrik nodded. “The wolves, the patrols, the wagons, the repairs, and the stampede. We felt all of it.”

That sentence settled over the fire like a blanket. Ben imagined what it must have been like to sense thousands of feet hammering along the streets of Toledo. While deep beneath the city, an entire civilization listened to the ruckus he’d caused. No wonder they’d sent scouts like Kerrik to watch them. After another thoughtful silence, Ben spoke again.

“So… I’ve told you about skyscrapers, electricity, and I’ve admitted to accidentally weaponizing half the city’s Screamer population.”

“Accidentally?” Kerrik snorted.

“Mostly,” Ben laughed. “Anyway, I think it’s your turn to tell me something about your people.”

“I cannot tell you much,” Kerrik said, looking genuinely conflicted.

“I’m not asking for much.”

“I have probably already said too much. But… I think I can tell you why we still live,” the young scout sighed as his eyes dropped to the fire. “When the Great Burning came, our ancestors did not fight… they dug. They took whoever they could, closed the entrances leading down, and trusted the stone more than the sky. Six centuries later… we are still there.”

“And that’s enough for tonight,” Ben stated.

“You are not going to ask for more?” Kerrik asked, looking up.

“I could,” Ben smiled. “But if I keep pushing, you’ll stop talking.”

“…true,” Kerrik replied with a small smile.

“So I’d rather have another conversation tomorrow.”

That, more than anything else that evening, seemed to catch the young Underkin off guard. Because for the first time since climbing onto the campus, he realized something. Ben wasn’t trying to extract secrets; he was trying to build trust. To an Underkin, there were few foundations stronger than something built patiently, one carefully placed stone at a time.