Inktober 2026 - 13 - Flimsy

She cried when they found the chamber.

They hadn’t actually been looking for it, or anything like it for that matter. They had lost hope for such a thing a while ago, or rather, it had been methodically and mercilessly ripped from them. There were days when they wondered why they even bothered continuing on, how they could ever possibly rebuild all that had been so thoroughly destroyed, especially with so few of them left. What did they even mean by ‘them’? They didn’t seem to have a common defining characteristic. Men and women, of various ages — except the very old and the very young, for which this whole ordeal had tragically been too much —, ethnicities, skill sets, backgrounds, even languages. They wished they could say they were just humans, but those who had put them in this situation were also, horrifically, technically human.

When they had finally managed to push away the rock that was blocking the entrance to what they had assumed to be a rudimentary cave dwelling, that was when they had found way more than what they had bargained for. And so much more than they could have dared to hope for, as well.

She entered first, as if pushed forward by some mystical force, and started examining everything stored there. She only looked, at first. Others eventually came in after her, and walked around just as astounded as she was. 

Deliberately slowly, she reached for a book, covered in dust on a desk. The leather binding was old and worn out, but it held on. She softly brushed away the cobwebs, and delicately opened it. The pages were just as fragile as the cover, but intact nonetheless, perfectly readable. She brought one hand to her mouth to refrain from sobbing. Carefully setting everything back the way it was, she then turned her attention to a fine lace dress on a mannequin. The fabric was so delicate it played tricks with a fine ray of moonlight that came from tiny a crack in the wall. Moths had somehow left the garment alone, and all its masterful intricacies had been preserved. Everywhere they looked, more clothing, more books, and in some places even pieces of fine machinery or advanced electronics. History, science, art, of all eras and places, gathered here, in front of them.

Who had done this? Who had managed to save so much of the civilisation they thought they had lost? And to successfully hide it from those who would see it erased? They hadn’t fought hard enough, at the time. They had thought it impossible for evil to prevail, but it had. Or so they had believed, until now. If one vault like this existed, maybe others did? Or maybe one was all they needed. Regardless, maybe there was hope after all? Maybe, just maybe, they could rekindle the flame, and never forget how frail it all was despite how strong it felt, how easily they had taken it all for granted and it could be ripped away.