Everyone freezes.
Each of them can feel it. Something dangerous is coming. They don't need to say it out loud to know it must be the Dungeon King. What they don't know is how powerful it is, and that uncertainty makes everything worse.
They also know one thing for sure. This type of haelion is extremely sensitive to sound.
No one moves. No one speaks. They stay as quiet as mice.
Nothing happens.
Minutes pass in total darkness and silence.
As their eyes slowly adjust, the faint glow of the dungeon's trees and bushes returns just enough to outline the surroundings in shadowy silhouettes. Rocks. Trampled ground. Broken light orbs.
Nothing new.
No unfamiliar shapes.
No shifting shadows.
No sudden smell.
Nothing.
Maeve is struggling.
Ever since she nearly died in this dungeon, darkness has become a problem for her. A real one. She's been holding it together so far, but the longer the silence drags on, the faster her courage drains away.
Her breathing becomes shallow.
