The call has no echo; your voice is sucked away by the Underworld. You close your eyes, ready to shed useless tears.
“Here! Take my hand!” A voice. The only person you’ve ever heard in the Underworld. You twist and feel a hand grab your wrist. A man is standing on the bank, golden-haired and strong. He pulls firmly on your arms and, for the first time, you feel yourself being pulled free of the pit. You collapse on the bank, your muscles weak and your head swimming. He drags you clear of the mire and lets go of your arm.
“Who are you?”
“How did you get here? Are you a Scion? Are you a Descender?”
As you push yourself up from the ground, with a rush you find yourself pushing up from your mattress. Your legs are still weak, but for once you’ve escaped the Underworld without dying.
For the first time, you’re excited to descend tomorrow.