Dehrai crossed through the mountain, leaving light in his wake.
At the lowest point of his circuit, under sea level, Dehrai’s fingers lingered over runes keeping the tunnels unflooded. Those did not need weekly renewal, and no-one would teach him their workings.
On his climb back he fed more light-spells in the communal workshops and dwellings too deep under the city even for lightwells, letting thanks warm him.
As a mote grew to a glow too bright to look into, he smiled. Air and light had called him, not stone and metal. He would follow that call again
"under-" was another prompt by Aldersprig. :)This entry was also posted at http://anke.dreamwidth.org/219987.html. You can comment wherever you prefer.