Teresa and Irene walked up the stairs together and stood in front of a stone door. Hieroglyphics covered the door.
Teresa: Where does this stone door lead?
Irene: To your house.
Teresa: No, it doesn’t.
Irene: Yes, it does.
Teresa: No, it doesn’t.
Irene: Yes, it does.
This continued for some time.
Teresa: I just want to get far, far away from you, you weird little boy!
Irene: I’m the only person within two-thousand miles who knows what you are, so you should…
Teresa: I don’t SHOULD anything; don’t give me commands!
Irene stood there silently for a couple seconds thinking about what to say or do.
Teresa: You are so weird.
Irene: That is so distracting; oh, my god, I don’t care what you think about me, but that is so distracting anyway. Why is that?
Teresa: Just help me get out of here; stop thinking.
Irene: It is because of me that you aren’t on the bottom of the well right now.
Teresa: All I remember is that you woke me from a beautiful dream.
Irene: We are safer down here than up there, by the way.
Teresa: Are you attempting jokes again?
Irene: No.
Teresa: Good, because it hasn’t been long enough since your last joke.
Irene: Human are horrible creatures; haven’t you noticed?
Teresa: Look, let’s just get out of here.
Irene: As I said, this door leads to your house.
Teresa: If it led to my house, I would have seen the door.
Irene: Not this door. This door is hidden. It looks like part of the wall. And, it might have been covered by some remodeling or who knows, the ceiling fell in and the tunnel is lost on the other side.
Teresa: And, who made this stairs and this well, anyway? It looks like they…
Irene: Like what?
Teresa: Like they go somewhere; not like they are just a service stair for a well. It looks like the water rose and covered the… whatever is deeper below.
Irene: Oh, they go somewhere.
Teresa: To the bottom of a well? Who built this and why didn’t I ever see it?
Irene: Your uncle knows; he must know.
Teresa: How do you know that he must know?
Irene: I know I know your real name, for example.
Teresa: Haha, my real name. You are so weird. My real name.
Irene: Your uncle wants to forget about it all, but, well, this well opened and swallowed you, so I guess he will have to tell you.
Teresa: Tell me what?
Irene: Who you are; and who built this well.
Teresa: Who built this well?
Irene: Your mother and father build this well; this is their sign; the mark of their house. Here.
Irene pointed at a particular hieroglyph on the stone door.
Teresa: My mother made this?
She reached up and touched the wall with her fingertips.
Irene: Yes
Teresa: What is it?
Irene: The sign of her house. Your name.
Teresa: My name? What language is this? How could she have built this? This is an enormous work. Irene: She had servants.
Teresa: Servants?
Irene: Well, they aren’t servants but they work with her.
Teresa: Work. Or worked? She’s dead; no one is working with her.
Irene: I don’t think she is dead.
Teresa: Why would you say something like that?
Irene: Don’t touch me!
Irene steps back a few stairs and waits for Teresa to calm down.
Irene: I speak the truth. I do not flee before the storm. I do not bind wounds until the fight ends. I do not attack women or children.
Irene steps back up the stairs to stand next to Teresa.
Teresa: Thank you for that.
Irene: Tethys. Your name is Tethys. This is your symbol.
The end.