Rennard and Milton had wandered for hours deep in the roots of the mountains. The one solace they had was Rennard’s flames, keeping both their naked bodies warm down in the damp depths and lighting the dark tunnel. Though the comfort was small. They had just snapped out of the Charmer’s hold and escaped, when, once again, fate managed to waylay them in the form of a random horny servant. The rank smell of her pussy lingered on Rennard, even after he’d unleashed a blaze from every inch of his skin to burn as much of it off as he could.

Rennard led the way with his forearm bathed in flames, used like a torch. The tunnel occasionally opened up, though seldom departed from its narrow tendencies. Streaks of moss helped cushion their steps, otherwise unkind. Bats would flap in their wake sometimes, drips of water and small streamlets could be heard. At least they had pure water to drink.

Milton sighed. “Still nothing in sight.”

“I can tell, genius.”

“If this path doesn’t go up anytime soon, we should start looking for cracks and crevices upwards. Going straight won’t lead us to the surface.”

“You hear yourself? These tunnels have kept going, they’re reliable. We have water. I’ll roast these goddamn bats if hunger gets to it. But I’m not sidling up some cramped crevice.”

Milton sighed again, not in disagreement but general annoyance.

“I know,” Rennard said. “It’s all gone to shit. If we somehow get out of here, I’m not trusting a single fucking giant ever again. Have we gotten bad luck with our encounters? Maybe. But it’s insanity to have gone through what we have and try the same shit. We’re doing it to ourselves at this point.”

“You know what?” Milton raised his arms in surrender. “I’m with you. I don’t want to overthink this anymore.”

“Good.”

“I wonder where Henry’s ended up.”

“All started back when that dumb brat grabbed us and took us to the Charmer. Henry might have ended up worse than us, who knows.” Rennard snorted. “Gray Rhinos and who knows fucking what.”

“I was thinking, if we could just reach some officials of a reputable house, loyal to the kingdom, and prove we’re from Humius, they might send us back.”

“If they’ve got any dignity worth glancing at, which we can’t trust. If we see the most well-dressed officer strut out of the ministry, if the opportunity bloody falls into our laps, then maybe. But for now, we make for the border ourselves. Fuck giants. It’s on us.”

“Absolutely.”

They proceeded through the tunnels for another hour until the walls were lost, opening exceptionally, a vast cavernous space where the rumbling of a river echoed off the walls. The massive grotto had a lake in the middle, a waterfall crashing into it, and it was sunlit, and at first the two young men were confused, thinking they had indeed walked upwards unaware, for the rays of sunlight from the cavern’s roof was too authentic. Both jogged to the lakeside expectantly.

Rennard squinted at the sunlight. “It doesn’t look right.”

“What is that?”

“Sunrocks, it looks like. They can conduct sunlight.”

“Sunlight, as in from the sun and outside? So those sunrocks are connected to the surface?”

“Yes. So, either these sunrocks are terribly long and extend all the way to the face of the mountain, or we’re closer to the surface than we thought.”

Milton studied the sides of the grotto curving up. “I can’t see any way up.” They circled the lakeside, observing. The sunlight which the sunrocks brought from the surface was authentic, enabling an interesting ecosystem. Here within the mountains, bushes and tiny trees grew near the lake on fat mattresses of moss and soil. There were rowan trees and cranberry bushes. Rennard and Milton feasted on the berries. They ate plenty, lips and fingers stickily red, and washed it down with the mountain’s pure water. Plenty of water poured into the lake, and they found a point where a stream flowed out and down another tunnel, but they didn’t want to head downwards. Searching further, near the waterfall, another tunnel went narrow first and opened later, following upwards along the stream which poured into the lake. Rennard’s flames were needed in the dark space again. They traveled up with it, a promising sign.

After half an hour, Rennard froze, a paused hand raised. “You hear that?”

Milton focused. Echoes of voices were bouncing off the rock. “It’s men. They’re humans.” The two scurried forward with curious hope. The voices became clearer, individual words distinct, along with the tunnel becoming steeper and steeper. Bushes and vines shrouded the passage. They pushed through, and combined with a sudden plateau of the ground underneath, they stumbled into the bushes, kicking and jumping out of it.

Three middle-aged men stared slack-jawed at them. Their shirts and trousers were made of leaves, and they held spades and tillers. Rennard and Milton had barged into another vast openness, rivaling the lake they had come from. Sunrocks shone down upon the space here as well, with long stretches of soil for farmland. If one shaded their eyes, ignored the distant stone walls, one might think they were outside.

“Where’d you boys come from?” one of the men said.

“And why in lord’s name are you naked?”

Rennard threw Milton a smile. “We fell down someplace. Long goddamn story, friends. But we need to find a way back up to the surface. I assume we’re close?”

“Back to what surface?”

“The surface.”

His response didn’t seem to register.

“You know, above these caves, on the mountains, with the skies above you.”

The three exchanged looks amongst one another, confused still.

“What part aren’t you getting?” Rennard said.

Milton added to the question. “Have you seen the world outside? Out of these caves, I mean.”

They found the question amusing. “No, we haven’t.”

Rennard rubbed his hands together, a jittery beginning to frustration. “Come on now, gentlemen, there’s got to be a way out of here.”

“Does the name Gintessa ring a bell?” Milton asked. “Or Humius?”

They shrugged and shook their heads amongst one another.

Rennard snorted. “Good lord.”

A woman from behind called, emerging from one of the many cabins along the farmlands. One of the three men went to meet her, and the two men who stayed spoke amongst each other. Milton and Rennard did the same, turning around and lowering their voices.

“So we happened to stumble on some underground civilization?” Rennard said.

“They don’t even know about the rest of the world. I don’t want to be negative, but the chances of finding a way out of here, with these people having lived here for all their lives and not knowing anything about it, it’s slim. Honestly, this is a half-decent life they’ve made for themselves down here, free from the giants. But it doesn’t seem like they’re hiding. They’re genuinely unaware.”

“Then…” Rennard nodded his head towards the opposite end of the room where an enormous tunnel led out, with cattle and a wagon moving through, suggesting further areas of this civilization. “We can be sure there’s no way out from there.” Rennard looked back at the bushes and thickets they’d emerged from, shrouded in the corner of this cavernous space. “But do they know about that tunnel? If not, then they don’t know there’s not a way up from where we came. We’ll see what they say. If it’s not good enough, we might have to think about backtracking. There were plenty of branching paths we left unexplored.”

“Lads.” One of the men approached them with two cotton shorts. “Put these on for Goddess’s sake.”

Rennard snorted. “We didn’t choose this.” They both received the legwear and put them on, tight and barely covering their knees, but welcome to receive.

“You two seem puzzled, with a lot of questions. We’ll take you to Goddess Helga, she’ll surely be able to help you.” They followed the man. As they did, it progressively dawned on them just how vast the space was, a good twenty minutes until they even reached the large hallway leading out of there. A few sunrocks along the top helped illuminate, otherwise there were torches and stones lit by magic. Most people wore clothes made of leaves and interwoven vines, which did not seem like natural handiwork, for none of them had withered.

“Do you make those clothes yourself?” Milton asked.

“It’s Goddess Helga’s enchantments that touch these lands and enable miracles.”

Milton and Rennard received plenty of stares and looks; this limited population knowing every face along with them being half-naked made them stand out.

“When we emerged from the bushes,” Milton said. “There was a tunnel thereunder. Do you guys know about it?”

“We’re aware. But Goddess Helga doesn’t wish us to go there, so we don’t.”

Rennard grinned. “Does Goddess Helga tell you when to shit as well?”

The man did not find that funny, and Milton gave his friend a scolding swat on the arm. Milton had a growing suspicion and decided to ask the man. “This Goddess Helga, is she a giant?”

“She is a goddess, the one who nourishes our lands, and she is giant, yes. I’m not sure what ‘a’ giant is supposed to mean.” The boys decided not to push it.

The walls of the tunnel gave way to the next pocket of space, the town, sunrocks along the top doing their best to convince them they were outside, a premise undercut by the ascending rock undersides of the mountain. The houses were made simply of wood and stone. Wood was no rare commodity with sunlight and soil and water available.

Rennard knocked on Milton’s shoulder to get his attention, indicating ahead. A large girl’s head poked above a rooftop down the street ahead of them, and to their surprise, she didn’t seem too enormous. A couple of villagers thanked her for an errand and left. Milton and Rennard were used to the giants being around sixty to seventy feet, but this one stood around thirty-five to forty. Of course, she still towered over them as the guide led them before her, though it wasn’t what they were used to. Her young and lively feet, from heel to toe, would cover them up to their chests while the usual giant’s foot comfortably swallowed them up. The girl was a teenager, with brown bobbed hair and wearing a dress made of leaves. The dress was without sleeves and fell to her knees.

The man who led Milton and Rennard stepped ahead of them, bowing to the girl. “Dearest Disciple. These are two confused young men I found by our farms. They emerged from the forbidden tunnel, wearing nothing but their own skin. They seem terribly absent, speaking of returning to some ‘surface above’. Could you help them?”

A few people had gathered, the attention Milton and Rennard brought along with confronting this ‘Disciple’ culminating to something of a gathering. The giant needed time to think, studying the two boys.

“Of course, good of you to bring them. They should come with me.” She stepped past the man, coming before Rennard and Milton. Rennard gave his friend an uneasy look, but the disciple got on a knee, a welcome gesture. She presented her two palms. “I will now take you, if you are fine with it.” Despite a measured expression towards the boys, she had an affable and dutiful aura, enough that the boys trusted her and stepped forward. Her hands grabbed their torsos, unable to encircle them with her fingers. She rose with them in a hand each, evading the crowds. Likely due to her smaller size compared to normal giants, but she had the most unobtrusive advance of any giant they’d noticed, her soft feet like feathers against the packed soil. She was relatively thin for her size as well, her fingers warm against their chest.

Leaving the streets, she arrived at a corner by the periphery of the town and placed them on a rooftop, level to her chest. “How much of that man’s explanation holds true?”

“Everything except for us being confused.”

Milton had to cut in. “Can we establish one thing first. Do you know that there’s a world above here, on the surface?”

Despite the measures taken to be far from any ears, she turned about one last time to check for others in the area. “I’ve heard about it from Goddess Helga, yes.”

“Surely there’s a way out of here?”

“Keep your voices lowered on these topics. Yes, there is, something only Goddess Helga would know. But you’ve stirred a lot of attention, which isn’t appreciated. How did you end up here in Greenreach?”

“We were chased, and fell,” Milton said. “It was the most obscure corner you could imagine. I can see how this place isn’t found.”

“You were chased?”

“Umm, yeah.” Milton realized late how their awkward nature made them look, so he had to be frank and reduce suspicion. “There’s a girl who tried to fuck us. I can’t explain it better than that. Do you feel the stench from my friend?”

“Well…” The disciple had carried herself with grace so far, and now she visibly flushed. Rennard didn’t enjoy Milton’s forwardness either.

“What I meant to get at,” she said, “is if they saw you fall, saw the way down here.”

“I doubt it. It was too narrow for her. And she was some lone actor, a nobody. So are we. We’re not important people. We just wanted to go home when we were intercepted.”

“For about the millionth time,” Rennard muttered.

The disciple measured them for a while, then said. “You must meet Goddess Helga. She will know what’s best.” She picked them off the rooftop and marched on. Already they could see her likely destination, the large flight of steps at the end of this cavernous space leading to a gargantuan doorway more than enough for a giant to fit through. Two identical statues of a giant woman towered high, naked, the people who walked thereunder small and insignificant.

The disciple rose multiple steps in one stride, nodding in return to those who greeted her. Curiously, whether out of respect or knowing their place, they didn’t ask who Rennard and Milton were despite the clear desire to know. Stares trailed after them, whispering to each other after the disciple passed. A few of them took an interested walk after them, but the disciple urged them to stay behind, and they did.

After the final step, the disciple stepped into the hallway, somewhat shadowy but with vines growing along its walls with purple and blue blossom. The hallway turned, and thereafter they could spot the massive figure sitting in the distance. She was on a great throne of stone coiled in leafy vines, lush with flowers of yellow and red and green and violet. This Goddess Helga herself wore a resplendent white dress, reaching her shins. Helga had a rather thin shape, a pale complexion, but just as this disciple surprised them in being under the usual size of a giant, the Goddess exceeded the normal. The common adult giant was around seventy feet; Helga was just over a hundred. Each step the disciple took steadily removed doubts, doubts they wish were true. But the closer she got, the greater Helga seemed.

A feeling that arose within Rennard and Milton when the disciple carried them, and now was fully actualized, was that they were no longer in control. Little ideas of breaking away from the disciple holding them and rushing straight out popped in their minds, back out the tunnel, to the farmlands and through the bushes, back to where they were in control, for there was no world where they would put a dent on the giant before them. More than her size was something the boys as wielders of magic could sense, the aura she emanated, especially from the tiny stone on her forehead. There was something uncanny about it, something beyond this world. And her face told the story of a young lady, with a delicate round face, lustrous blue eyes, pale delicate skin and yellow hair falling like a cape behind her. The youth contrasted to the way everyone spoke of this goddess, something traditional and long-lasting. The jewel on her forehead pulsated with a bluish white light, and although tiny, it clearly protruded from her skin.

The throne room was tremendous, Goddess Helga and her throne nearing the back end. A river coursed through its middle, travelling under a bridge, and her throne seemed like the middle of all the growth of the room, the confluence of all the roots, and along its gigantic vines closest to her throne trees of apple and orange and peach grew plentifully.

The disciple crossed the bridge and placed Milton and Rennard on a circle of lilies before the throne. They craned their necks high to see the Goddess’s face studying them, unable to read emotion. Before them were her pale feet, larger than any pair they’d seen before. Even though Helga had a thin stature and was small for her proportions, her foot was longer than both boys combined, clean, smooth, and free of wrinkles.

The disciple’s head barely reached the arm of Helga’s throne. Helga leaned down and the disciple whispered for a long several seconds. Helga sat upright in the throne again, a radiant smile that Rennard wasn’t buying. “My children,” she said, an unfitting rich and dark voice belonging to an older lady. “I must speak to these two visitors, in private.”

Everyone in the room moved out, no hesitation. There were whispers at the far end, glances back, but they left, and the disciple trailed after the last one out and stood sentry by the doorway.

“We never get visitors around here,” Helga said. “Certainly, you must have told your story to others multiple times. But I ask of you to tell it to me one last time, and with great detail.”

Milton nodded to his friend and took the lead, going through everything from their village in Humius to underneath these mountains. They were becoming experts. When he finished his story, he asked, “So, my lady, you do know of a world outside here? And that there’s other giants like you?”

Something about the question didn’t sit right with her, and Milton couldn’t figure out what. “Yes, I know of the world outside. They do not know about us. That is what keeps us safe.”

“Please, we only want to return home,” Rennard said, finding some hope in Helga he hadn’t had earlier in their journey. “It’s a humble village much like this place. We are the same as these people.”

“I understand. But you must understand my concern about the safety of our home.”

“What danger would we pose?”

“You know of this place. That knowledge is a danger to us.”

“What are you suggesting?” Rennard couldn’t be still when the scary notion of them being unable to leave floated about. “There has to be a solution.”

Helga leaned forward, her torso folding over her legs. The two boys stepped back as she presented her hands flat before them. As with the disciple, there was an inviting and respectful air about them. Helga especially with her angelic demeanor made it an act of spite and disrespect to refuse her, so they both stepped onto a hand each. She rose back to her seat, bringing Rennard and Milton to her lap. The skin of her palms was as smooth as the fabric of her dress, as if stroking the clouds themselves.

“I apologize, but you have to tolerate staying here awhile.” Her thumb ran up and down along their backs, in under their armpits, along their chest, both examining and petting them. They didn’t know if she was establishing superiority, but the act came very naturally to her. “You will be made comfortable, treated well, because I would like to see the contents of your character. And then I’ll decide. Your happiness will be of utmost importance.”

Rennard and Milton looked between one another. Were they allowed to leave this instant? No. But thinking back on their journey, what all the other giants they’d come across had done to them, it put her offer in perspective.

Rennard met her eyes. “You know what? That’s the best damn offer we’ve gotten.”