The first ruin didn’t look like a ancient magical deathtrap. Ava had imagined towering spires,

  glowing glyphs, perhaps a statue missing its head. Instead, she was staring at a half-sunken stone

  archway that resembled a moldy cow’s ribcage. Vines crept up its sides, and something was

  hissing very softly from inside.

  “So,” Ava said, squinting at the ruins. “This is where the ancient magic oozes?”

  Ugraum nodded, glancing around, clearly unimpressed by the sight. “Old temple. Now cursed.

  Probably.” He looked entirely too calm about that fact.

  Ava glanced at him, taking in his unbothered expression. “You really need to work on your

  motivational speeches,” she muttered, clutching the satchel of gear they’d cobbled together.

  Goggles, chalk, a notebook, and a metal rod that probably wasn’t magical but made her feel

  better holding it.

  The entrance sloped downward into a dark corridor. Ava’s footsteps echoed, and Ugraum’s

  heavier ones followed a respectful distance behind. The air felt cooler as they descended, the

  shadows of the trees outside vanishing into the oppressive gloom of the ruins.

  “Tell me again,” she whispered, “why we’re going in and not away?”

  “Because you want to go home,” Ugraum replied, voice low, but steady. “And because I am very

  brave.”

  “Right. Also modest.”

  “Very.”

  They rounded a corner, and the dark corridor opened into a massive chamber. Moss-covered

  pillars rose like skeletal trees, their tops disappearing into shadow. The floor beneath their feet

  cracked in places, hinting at deeper depths. In the center, a pedestal shimmered faintly, drawing

  their attention. Floating above it was something… strange.

  Ava stepped forward, blinking in surprise. “Ohhh. Okay. That’s definitely leaking magic.”

  Ugraum tensed, his focus sharpening. “You sure?”

  “I can taste it,” she whispered, her voice hushed with awe and trepidation. “It’s like licking a

  battery.”

  Ugraum stared blankly. “Battery...good?”

  “You’re better off not knowing,” she muttered, glancing at him with a wry smile. She crept

  forward, pulling her goggles into place as the magic shimmered more strongly, coalescing into a

  swirling greenish oval. Her pulse quickened.

  “Is that… a portal?”

  “It’s not very stable,” Ava muttered, kneeling a little closer. “I can’t tell if it’s leading somewhere or

  just trying to eat air and hope.”

  Ugraum stepped beside her, his eyes narrowing as he studied the swirling energy. “Will it take

  you home?”

  Ava hesitated, opening her mouth to answer, but the words caught. She couldn’t tell him. What if

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  it was home, but it wasn’t quite right? What if she couldn’t come back to this strange, complicated

  place?

  She looked at Ugraum, his massive form still and patient beside her. A deep, steady breath

  escaped her.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to find out,” she finished quietly.

  Ugraum’s gaze softened. “You do not want to go back?”

  “I do,” she said quickly. “It’s just… What if it’s not home? What if it’s just… nothing? Or worse,

  what if it is home and I can’t come back here?”

  Silence filled the air, stretching between them. Then, Ugraum’s voice was low and careful. “You

  want to come back here?”

  Ava shifted slightly, looking at the broken stone floor. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she

  said with a nervous laugh. “I fell through a hole in reality, nearly lost my way, watched you roast

  wild animals, and I still think this place might be… better than home.”

  Ugraum was quiet for a long moment. He stepped closer, just slightly, and reached for her hand.

  His touch was slow, careful.

  “You’re weird,” he murmured, his voice gruff, but gentle. “But maybe this world needs weird.”

  Ava’s breath caught in her throat. “Well, good news. I’m very talented at being weird.”

  Before Ugraum could respond, something cracked above them. Both of them spun toward the

  sound just as a chunk of ceiling collapsed, crashing down between them and the pedestal. The

  swirling magic rippled violently—then collapsed inward, popping out of existence, leaving

  behind a smoking stone.

  Ava stared at the ruined space where the portal had been, her mouth agape. After a long pause,

  she managed a dry, “Guess that answers that question.”

  “No portal,” Ugraum rumbled.

  “Nope. It’s gone.”

  He turned to her, still alert. “You okay?”

  Ava took a slow breath, her heart still racing from the near miss. “Weirdly… yeah.”

  As they turned to leave, Ava deliberately brushed against him, a smirk playing on her lips. “You

  know… I’m starting to think you planned that.”

  Ugraum gave her the most innocent ogre look she’d ever seen. “What? Me?”

  “Mmhm.”

  He grinned, that wicked glint in his eyes. “If I planned it, we would have fallen and landed

  cuddling. Like lovers.”

  Ava burst out laughing, barely able to contain herself. “Or died. Don’t give the ruins ideas.”

  * * *

  Night had already fallen by the time they reached the hald way point to the second ruins.

  The trees here were older. Thicker. Watching. The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when

  they stopped to make camp, hidden beneath a sloped ridge, under the twisted roots of an ancient

  tree.

  Ava adjusted the strap on her satchel and muttered, “So just to clarify… we’re sneaking through

  hostile ogre territory because a scout you trust kind of vaguely remembered another ruin out

  here?”

  Ugraum grunted, his attention on their surroundings. “Not vague. There are more ruins. She

  said, ‘Old places. Lots of bones. Weird stone smell.’ That’s clear.”

  “That’s not clear,” Ava said dryly. “That’s the exact way you describe your cooking.”

  He didn’t argue. Instead, he kept moving, scanning the forest with the quiet tension of a warrior

  expecting trouble. They set up their camp with practiced ease, the fire just barely visible through

  the thick trees to keep it hidden. Ava sat down on a flat stone, her thoughts quieting for a

  moment as she looked at the darkening sky.

  “Where are we?” she asked, her voice softer now.

  Ugraum exhaled, settling beside the fire. “Karnak’s Teeth. Old clan lands. I left years ago.”

  “Peacefully?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No.”

  Ava studied him, sensing there was more to the story. “Do I want to know?”

  “Clan didn’t like questions. I asked too many. Didn’t want to hurt what didn’t need hurting. Said I

  was going soft.” His tone was thick with bitterness. “My brother Rakhul led the others. I left in

  the night.”

  Ava felt the quiet ache in his words, and despite herself, she reached out to touch his arm lightly.

  “You miss it?”

  “No.” His response was quiet, but firm. “I miss knowing where I belonged.”

  They didn’t speak for a while, the silence between them heavy with unspoken things. Ava

  wrapped her coat tighter around herself, shivering slightly in the cool evening air. Ugraum, on

  the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable in the cold, his cloak draped over one shoulder,

  eyes half-closed.

  Ava bit her lip before speaking again. “Okay, so—I’m gonna say something incredibly awkward.”

  Ugraum turned his head to look at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Good.”

  “I didn’t think it would be this cold out here. And I don’t really have ogre-thick skin. So

  hypothetically, if one were to ask to share a blanket. Or, y’know, your general vicinity—would

  that be weird?”

  Ugraum blinked once, his expression unreadable. Then, he simply said, “You want to sleep next

  to me?”

  “Want is a strong word. More like... require, for continued function.”

  He made a thoughtful noise. “I am very warm.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  Without another word, he opened the thick hide blanket he used as a bedroll and shifted over.

  Ava hesitated for a moment before crawling in carefully. She stayed stiff, awkward, her back rigid,

  doing her best to not touch him.

  “Okay,” she said after a while, arms crossed. “This is weird.”

  “Not for ogres,” he said, eyes closed, his voice steady. “Warmth is survival. Not weird.”

  They lay there, backs nearly touching, the warmth between them enough to make the cold air

  outside bearable. Slowly, Ava’s muscles relaxed just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  Ugraum spoke softly in the dark, his voice barely a whisper. “These ruins. You have hope?”

  Ava let out a long breath. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

  He didn’t press any further. The silence stretched, but after a long beat, Ava felt his hand shift

  slightly, closer to hers, but not touching. A wordless offer.

  She didn’t take it.

  But she didn’t move away either.

  * * *

  Not far from the ridge where Ava and Ugraum slept, a different kind of fire burned low—no

  smoke, just embers and breath like fog in the dark.

  A dozen ogres crouched around it, armored in scavenged bone and iron. At their center sat

  Rakhul, taller than the rest, one tusk cracked and a long scar trailing down his chest like a whip

  mark from the gods.

  “He’s with a woman,” one grunted. “The exile. Think he’s breeding her?”

  Another laughed, low and guttural. “Maybe she’s his. We take them both—split the girl. Pale,

  soft skin. Would fetch good trade. Or keep.”

  Rakhul didn’t laugh. His eyes stayed on the treeline where the scent of old roots and iron magic

  lingered. He said nothing for a long time.

  Then:

  “No.”

  The others fell silent.

  “She’s not like the others,” he rumbled. “There’s something on her. Magic, maybe. Or fate. Doesn’t

  matter.”

  A pause. Then his voice, colder.

  “We don’t take them here. We cut them off where they’re headed. Let the ruin whisper to her. Let

  her think she’s free.”

  He stood, massive and still.

  “Prepare an ambush. We’ll be waiting for them.”

  * * *