Gray's voice lingered softly in the air, its echoes swallowed by the damp walls around them. The river's whisper was their only audience, the endless current threading through the cavern like a steady, measured heartbeat. They'd stopped at a small rise where the rock smoothed into a narrow ledge beside the water, its surface rippling faintly in the weak light of their orb.
"So you're saying," Adel murmured, arms crossed, "you saw all of that? The people, the woman, the chanting—everything?"
Gray nodded. He sat against the wall, his expression distant, eyes half-shadowed beneath the light's faint glow. "It felt too real to be just a vision," he said quietly. "I could feel the heat of the sun on my skin. The crowd pushed me like I was actually there. I could smell the dust, the sweat. And that woman..." He exhaled shakily. "She wasn't human."
Aurelle leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp, calculating. "Describe her again."
Gray hesitated. "She looked normal at first. Like the statue. A veil over her head. Beautiful, almost divine. But when she turned…" His voice faltered. "Her face twisted. Her smile was wrong. Like it didn't belong on her. And her eyes—empty. It wasn't like looking at a person. It was like staring into a hole that wanted to swallow everything."
Adel frowned but said nothing. Her fingers absently traced the edge of her dagger's hilt.
Aurelle's expression darkened, thoughtful. "You said the people were chanting. You couldn't understand it?"
"No," Gray replied. "It wasn't like any language I've ever heard. It wasn't even close to the ones I've seen before..." He paused, searching for the right phrasing. "When they spoke...it felt as if they were moving the air itself."
The words hung heavy between them, the current murmuring beneath the weight of silence.
Adel shifted, glancing toward the still statue far behind them, hidden now by bends in the tunnel. "That woman... who do you think she was? After all they were chanting for her according to you."
Gray looked up at her. "I'm not sure, maybe she was their leader? Or something along that."
No one replied. The thought sat cold and undeniable in the space between them.
Aurelle stood abruptly, brushing the dust from his cloak. "Come on. We can't stay here. We've been standing still for too long."
They followed the river again, letting its curve guide them deeper. The tunnel ahead began to narrow. What had once been a smooth, open passage now constricted into a low channel where the river pressed close against the walls. The air grew colder, thick with the scent of stone and water. When they reached the edge, they saw that the path continued—but barely. The current vanished into a tight corridor of rock, a slit just wide enough for a person to crawl through.
The water pooled inside the chamber, reaching up to the ankle.
Aurelle stopped first. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the submerged passage. "That water's not normal. I can sense—"
"Nothing here is," Adel muttered, already kneeling by the edge. She dipped her fingers in. "Cold," she hissed softly, jerking them back. "Freezing, actually."
Gray crouched beside her, peering into the mirror-like surface. Not too far from them, faint shapes drowned—smooth lines, carved stone, and what looked like the tops of doors buried just below the surface.
"There's something down there," he said.
Adel didn't hesitate. She set down her weapon, tying it with a strap to her waist. "I'll check."
"Wait," Gray started, but she'd already stepped in. The icy water bit at her boots, swallowing her calves, her knees, then her hips. The cold hit like needles, but her face remained unreadable. She waded forward, moving with cautious grace until the dark outlines beneath the water became clear.
Ancient runic doors, half-buried in stone.
Adel pressed her palm against their surface. The carvings beneath her hand thrummed faintly, releasing a muted glow through the water. For a breath, the world held still—then a deep, resonant click reverberated through the rock. The doors shifted open, water rushing through the cracks in a violent surge.
Gray and Aurelle staggered back as the current pulled forward, draining into the revealed passage with a violent hiss. The flow subsided only after several moments, leaving the tunnel's floor slick and exposed. The waterline had receded, revealing the true path ahead—stone steps leading downward into a dimly lit corridor of worked stone.
Adel stepped out of the pool, her clothes clinging to her frame, droplets running down her pale arms. She didn't shiver.
"Well," she said simply, looking down the dark stairs. "Looks like it wasn't a dead end after all."
Gray raised his light, its beam stretching into the revealed passage. The stone was old, ancient in fact, carved with fading runes and faint spirals of artistry now eroded by time. "It looks like a tomb," he murmured.
"Or a dungeon," Aurelle corrected softly. His eyes had grown cold again. "And things like that are never empty."
They didn't go in—at least, not yet. The three of them stood for a long while in silence, staring into the open passage. The air that wafted out was heavy and dry, laced with the faint scent of dust and something faintly metallic—like dried blood and old Vyre.
Aurelle was the first to turn away. "We'll come back," he said. "If the other path leads nowhere. I don't like that place. It feels... wrong."
Adel didn't argue. She wrung out her sleeve absently, her gaze still on the ancient doors. "Fine."
They left it behind and took the path of the river instead.
Adel led the way, her hands brushing along the rough surface for balance. Behind her came Gray, the sound of rushing water drowning out his thoughts. It was like crawling through the throat of the earth itself—wet, suffocating, endless. Once, his hand slipped on the smooth stone, and the current almost pulled him under. He managed to brace himself, gasping, before pushing on.
The tunnel twisted once, then again, before abruptly widening. The river spilled out into a shallow basin, its cold flow spreading across uneven stone. Gray dragged himself up first, coughing, water dripping from his hair and sleeves. The others followed, each emerging pale and shivering, their breaths sharp in the air.
The river poured down ahead in a shimmering cascade, falling into an immense cavern below—a vast, circular chasm with walls lined in greenery. Trees, vines, even patches of sunlight spilled through a fractured opening far above. Birds circled lazily in the beams of light filtering down, their cries faint but alive. The sky—pale, distant, unreachable—was visible through the cracks in the stone ceiling.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, they saw the sun.
Adel exhaled slowly. "An exit…This quickly?"
"Not one we can use, that is the issue." Aurelle said quietly. His gaze followed the wall upward. The climb was impossible—sheer, smooth, too far for even the strongest channeler to scale. "We'd die before we got halfway."
Gray watched the sunlight flicker across the surface of the descending waterfall. The mist that rose from it caught the light like diamonds. "Still," he murmured, "it's nice to see it again."
Aurelle looked down. "We should explore, this might give us directions."
No one disagreed and they began their slow descent.
The slope down was long and winding, surrounded by thick vines and moss-covered stone. The sound of the waterfall grew softer as they reached the basin below—a wide, sunlit jungle thriving impossibly underground. Giant roots twisted through the cracked rock, ferns brushed against their legs, and colorful birds darted through shafts of warm light.
It was beautiful.
And wrong.
Too alive for a place that had been buried for centuries. Or looked like it.
They looked at the rather unusual scenery and breathed in the fresh air.
Adel kneeled down and grabbed the soil, slipping right though her fingers.
"This plant life, it's real..." she closed her eyes for a moment to take it in.
Aurelle looked around hesitantly and looked towards the others.
"I think...we should split up." Hus voice came clear and loud.
Gray gave him a sharp stare, "Split up? Wasn't it your idea to stay together. And what if—"
"We don't have the time," Aurelle interrupted. "For all we know, we could arrive to the exit having been closed because we took too long. We could remain stuck here like the countless other people from past generations."
Gray remained quiet at his words. 'I hate to admit it but he's...right.'
Adel remained quiet, not interfering with their conversation. It seemed like she was focused on something entirely different.
Gray sighed and nodded, "Alright fine, we split up. But, we remain somewhat close. Just in case."
Aurelle nodded and unsheathed his sword. "Gray you go straight, I'll go left and Adel goes right."
They quickly split up to explore, spreading through the overgrown clearing. Gray wandered closer to the riverbank, the soft earth squelching under his boots. He ran his hand along one of the massive roots, feeling the faint hum of Vyre running through it, as if the trees themselves were feeding on something deeper than soil.
He paused when his foot struck something hard.
Bending down, he brushed away the loose dirt—and froze. Beneath it, half-buried in the earth, was a skeleton. The bones were fused to the root system itself, threads of wood curling through the ribcage, binding it in a grotesque embrace. Its skull tilted upward as if it had been mid-scream.
Gray stared for a long moment. Then his voice came out low, quiet. "Still clinging on, huh?"
He pressed his boot against the skull and crushed it.
The sound was dry and final.
***
Adel had wandered far from the others.
Her footsteps were near-silent, her breathing steady as she moved through the forest's filtered sunlight. Her soaked clothes had mostly dried, but her expression hadn't changed once since she'd left them—sharp, unreadable, her eyes reflecting faint glimmers of the canopy above.
Vines hung low, twisting in thick, curtain-like masses. She drew one of her daggers and sliced through them with precise, efficient motions. The blade sang softly with each cut.
Eventually, she stopped.
Something had caught her eye.
Half-buried beneath a tangle of roots was a slab of stone, worn and smoothed by time. Its surface was covered in carvings—ancient runes similar to those they'd seen before, spiraling inward in intricate patterns. She crouched beside it, brushing away the dirt with her fingers until the words stood clear in the sun.
Her lips moved silently as she read eithout hesitation.
But Adel read it easily. Her eyes traced each line without pause, her voice a whisper only the forest could hear.
"Those who kneel in light are not forgotten. Those who kneel in shadow are not forgiven. Bow to the one—" The words cut off abruptly.
Her gaze lingered, her expression as still as stone. For a long time, she didn't move. Then, from the corner of her eye, something stirred.
A small caterpillar had crawled onto the slab. It was vibrant—striped in yellow and green, glowing faintly in the sunlight. Its movements were slow, curious. It turned toward her, tiny legs wriggling as if to greet her.
Adel stared at it for several seconds, unblinking.
Then she drew her dagger and drove it down.
The blade pinned the creature in an instant. It writhed briefly, its tiny body twisting before going still. A faint droplet of purple blood seeped out, staining the stone, curling into the grooves of the old runes like ink returning to a page.
Adel watched it in silence.
"Lesson four... beauty and poison," she murmured softly, voice devoid of emotion. "The world never knew the difference."
The light flickered across her pale face. Then she rose, leaving the dagger buried in the stone and the forest as quiet as before..