CHAPTER 54: TUNNEL OF LIGHT

Alaric finally stepped into the narrow passage. The air was colder and damper here, filled with the distinct scent of wet stone mixed with a faint hint of minerals.

He moved cautiously with each step. Not just because of the cramped space, but also because the rocky surface beneath his feet was slick and uneven.

His footsteps echoed against the tight walls, dimly lit by the faint light reflecting off the lake behind him. He counted silently in his head.

"One... two... three..."

By the time he reached roughly his twentieth step from the dead-end entrance of the cave, he spotted a narrow opening ahead. Just wide enough to toss his backpack through.

"If my bag can fit, then so can I," he muttered under his breath. With a bit of effort, he swung the bag and threw it through the gap.

Thud

The sound of the bag hitting the ground on the other side was clear, followed by the muffled noise of it landing. That small success brought a smile to his face.

He turned sideways, adjusting his body to the tight space. His muscles tensed as he inched forward, trying to find the safest way to avoid scraping against the rocks.

But just as he began to move his foot, the stone beneath it shifted slightly. His body jerked forward on reflex, and—

Crack!

A sharp pain shot through his left hand. It had gotten caught between two jagged rocks along the narrow crevice. The edge of the stone was razor-sharp, cutting deep into his skin. His breath caught as he fought back a cry.

Before he could regain control, something caught his eye below... movement. A dark shape, stark against the damp stone floor.

As he focused, his heart began to race. A venomous snake, its wet body glistening, slithered slowly near his foot. Its forked tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air, gauging the distance to its potential target.

Adrenaline surged through his veins. "If it strikes, I’m done," he thought.

Without hesitation, Alaric yanked his hand from between the rocks, ignoring the searing pain. The sound of his skin scraping against the sharp stone made him wince.

He blocked out the image of torn flesh and let instinct take over.

With one desperate pull, he freed his hand. Blood immediately started to flow from the deep gash across the back of his hand. b

Bright red against the cold, wet rock. His hand was badly injured.

He stepped back, breathing hard, keeping a safe distance from the snake, which was still watching his every move.

The pain grew sharper, each pulse bringing a fresh wave of discomfort. Alaric leaned against the cave wall and raised his injured hand, trying to slow the bleeding.

He looked again at the narrow exit... The hope he had moments ago was gone. The snake hadn’t moved much, but it clearly blocked his only escape route.

Slowly, he realized that this tunnel was no longer a path to safety. He needed another plan, or a better moment. But for now, that snake stood guard at the only door, and he wasn’t prepared to face it.

Silence filled the cave once more, broken only by his heavy breathing and the steady drip of water from the stalactites hanging above.

Alaric turned and walked slowly back toward the long bench-like rock by the lake, where he had been resting earlier—before everything went sideways. His body, once full of energy, now felt weak.

His breathing remained heavy, and every step was slower, thanks to the throbbing pain in his hand. Once seated, he looked down at the gash. Blood was still seeping out, though less than before.

He thought about his first-aid kit. But it was in his bag, and the bag was now outside the cave. Out of reach. No bandages. No supplies.

All he had was a thin, gray cloth, the one he used to wipe off sweat. Luckily, it was still relatively clean, only slightly damp at one end.

"Better this than bleeding out," he murmured, gritting his teeth. He used his good hand to wrap the cloth tightly around his injury. Every turn stung, the pain intensifying with the pressure.

He fastened it securely, enough to hopefully slow the bleeding.

Then he leaned back and stared out at the lake’s surface. It looked the same as before. But his heart no longer matched the calm it reflected. This morning, he had sat there in peace. Now he was desperate for a way out.

The water mirrored the cave ceiling above, barely rippling, except when fish moved below. In the middle of the pain, his thoughts began to race again.

Part of him wanted to give up and just wait for help. His logic argued: he was exhausted, injured, and maybe Siera or his mom would eventually send someone after receiving his last message.

But another voice inside pushed back, refusing to give in. That voice reminded him he wasn’t the kind of person who waited around for rescue. He was the one who found solutions, no matter what.

"If I can build a complicated system from scratch, I should be able to get out of this cave. Come on, Alaric... don’t give up now."

The thought gave him strength. He stood up again and walked to a large rock near the lake. It rose just high enough that he could get a better view of the cave from the top.

He stepped onto it, then climbed to a slightly higher stone. From here, the lake stretched wider beneath him, its surface shimmering.

But the stone was slick, covered in a thin layer of moss he hadn’t noticed.

As he shifted for a better footing—

Swoosh!

He slipped. His body lost balance instantly, and gravity pulled him down hard.

"Whoa—!" His voice caught in his throat.

Splash!

Cold water surged around him, sending droplets flying against the cave walls. The lake embraced him with a shock of icy chill, making him shiver.

His makeshift bandage soaked through, the red of his blood leaking back into the water.

Alaric shook his head, trying to clear the water from his eyes and calm himself. It wasn’t a deep fall, but it forced him to pause and think.

Now that he was in the water, something caught his eye. Something he hadn’t seen before.

Pushing himself upright with his good hand, he steadied against the slick rocks at the edge of the lake. Drops of water ran down his face, rejoining the still surface.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a glimmer of light under the water. A thin beam moving through the clear lake, like it was shining from beneath.

He turned fully toward it. The light was real. Even though the cave was sealed off, the glow resembled late afternoon sunlight.

He squinted, trying to locate its source—and there it was. A small, oval-shaped hole near the lakebed, just wide enough for someone to swim through. It sat near the left wall of the cave, not far from the now-blocked entrance.

A memory flickered. He’d overheard two foreign tourists talking about a "tunnel of light" when he visited this spot a year ago. They mentioned a passage that connected directly to the open sea, only a few meters away.

He had assumed it was just a rumor. But now, seeing it for himself, it made sense. The tunnel only became visible when sunlight hit the water at the perfect angle.

His mind raced. This could be his way out. But he glanced down at his soaked bandage, now bleeding again. The pain was sharper, amplified by the cold water.

Under normal conditions, swimming through an underwater tunnel wouldn’t be a big deal for him. He was confident in his abilities. But now? With an open wound, low stamina, and rising mental stress. His chances weren’t what they used to be.

He could return to dry land and wait. Maybe help would arrive in a few hours. Maybe tomorrow. That would mean staying in the cold cave, fighting hunger, thirst, and pain.

"No. I won’t just sit here and wait for time to run out," he said quietly to himself.

His breath steadied. His eyes returned to the glowing tunnel, drawn to it. Deep inside, something urged him forward. A survival instinct, maybe, or a deep sense of certainty.

He slowly let go of the rock edge. His legs kicked gently, creating small ripples. He adjusted his body to face the tunnel and began swimming toward the center of the lake.

The cold water bit at his skin, but each stroke brought him closer to the light.

His eyes locked onto the opening. Now he could see it more clearly, a submerged cave mouth with tiny air bubbles rising from within, a sign of open space or a current beyond.

He took a deep breath, pushing away any doubt.

"This is my only shot. If I make it, I’m out. I can’t afford to think about failure now. That’ll only slow me down."

And for the first time in a while, he felt certain.

"I’m going to make it."

Alaric kept swimming, each stroke more determined. The world inside the tunnel slowly came into view. Coral formations, traces of the ocean beyond.

His confidence surged. The blood from his hand continued to mix with the sea, but it no longer mattered.

He had found his way out.

He was no longer inside the lake.