The light in the pit pulsed, quickening, an ominous rhythm that made the air thick with tension.

  Ugraum stood firm, axe raised, every muscle primed for whatever might come next.

  Ava, despite herself, stepped closer. Fear fought against her curiosity. The glow was hypnotic,

  drawing her in as if it recognized her, as if it knew her. The ruins around them thrummed,

  vibrating with a life of their own—stone humming as though the very earth was alive.

  And then the light moved.

  From the depths, something began to rise—massive, slow, an ever-shifting mass of smoke and

  fire, neither solid nor ephemeral. The same tall creature, yet it wasn’t made of flesh or bone. It

  was a presence, a thing of magic, given form. A guardian… or perhaps a remnant of something

  older.

  Ava’s breath caught. “It’s watching me.”

  Ugraum growled low, protective. “It’s not getting you.”

  The creature didn’t attack—not yet. Instead, it hovered at the center of the chamber, flickering

  between shapes, humanoid one moment, monstrous the next. Its voice rolled through the air in

  low, pulsing waves, like the growl of a storm breaking.

  “You crossed the veil. You carry the spark. Give it back,” it shrieked in Elunari. Strangely, Ava

  understood every word.

  Ava blinked, confusion clouding her mind. “The spark?”

  “You,” it said again, its voice like a rasping wind, “do not belong. The rift must close.”

  Ugraum moved in front of her, a protective wall. “She stays.”

  The creature turned its focus to him, its voice sharp now. “You are a wound. You shelter what

  should not be.”

  Ava’s mind raced. The spark—was that what it sensed in her? Something from the portal? Or was

  it something that had awakened when she crossed over?

  Stepping forward, she pushed past Ugraum. “I didn’t come here on purpose. But I’m not giving

  anything up until I understand what’s happening.”

  The light flared brighter. The ruins shook. Cracks splintered the stone beneath their feet, and

  debris rained down from the ceiling.

  “No more questions,” the creature boomed. “Only return.”

  And then it attacked.

  It moved like fire, a streaking arc of molten light slicing through the chamber. Ugraum shoved

  Ava behind a crumbling pillar, taking the full force of the blast with a roar, swinging his axe to

  deflect it. The magical energy scraped across his arm, burning through leather and into muscle.

  “Ugraum!” Ava cried, rushing to him.

  “I’m fine,” he gritted out, his teeth clenched against the pain. Blood oozed from the wound, but

  he stood steady. “It’s not trying to kill us. It’s trying to force you.”

  “Then we won’t fight it,” Ava said, her heart pounding. “We’ll outsmart it.”

  She fumbled for the rune crystal she’d salvaged from the shattered console. Now, it pulsed in

  rhythm with the presence of the guardian. Resonating.

  “Maybe I can use this…” Ava muttered, quickly adjusting the straps on her satchel.

  Ugraum, his face twisted in pain, swung his axe again, holding the creature back for a moment

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  longer.

  Ava shoved the crystal against a broken column, trying to wedge it tight. It slipped in with ease,

  like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. She was surprised, but her fingers moved quickly,

  shifting the surrounding runes into the stone.

  The guardian lunged.

  With a mighty bellow, Ugraum slammed into it, staggering the creature just long enough for Ava

  to finish. She threw herself behind the pillar.

  A moment passed.

  Then—a blinding flash.

  A low, sucking boom.

  Silence.

  The spirit was gone. The pulse faded.

  The ruins stopped vibrating.

  Ava lifted her head, smoke curling in her hair. “Did it work?”

  Ugraum groaned, flat on his back.

  She scrambled to him, her hands moving over his burn. It was bad, but not fatal. She tore off her

  outer shirt, pressing it to his wound.

  “I’m fine,” he muttered. “No need to fuss.”

  “You nearly got fried. Let me fuss.”

  He glanced up at her, eyes soft despite the pain. “You saved us.”

  “You saved me,” she said, her voice faltering. “Again.”

  There was a pause, a quiet moment of understanding. Slowly, Ava reached out to brush soot from

  his cheek. His large, calloused hand caught her wrist—but he didn’t stop her.

  Ava hesitated, a lump forming in her throat. “Ugraum…”

  “No portal,” he said quietly. “But it’s okay.”

  Her throat tightened. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go either.”

  He pulled her close, one arm wrapping around her waist as he sat up with a wince. Their

  foreheads touched.

  No words.

  Only breath.

  Only heat.

  And the heavy thrum of something inevitable.

  They left the ruins behind, climbing through narrow, crumbling halls that felt more fragile with

  every step. The echoes of their boots against the stone felt too loud, too final. The shifting of

  rocks in the walls, the silence of something ancient now shattered.

  Ugraum’s arm was bound in torn cloth, blood soaking through, but he moved with the same

  steady pace. Ava stayed close to him, glancing at him often, though she didn’t ask if he was okay.

  Neither of them were.

  They emerged onto the cliffside as the rain began to fall. Below them, the forest was dark with

  wet leaves, mist curling around the treetops like breath.

  Ava leaned against a moss-covered rock, taking in the cool, fresh air, trying to slow the storm

  inside her mind.

  “That thing,” she murmured, “said I didn’t belong. Said the rift had to ‘close.’ What if it’s right?”

  Ugraum stood beside her, staring into the gathering storm. “Then let it be wrong.”

  She gave a half-laugh, but it was hollow. “Not very scientific.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But it keeps you alive.”

  Thunder cracked above them. The wind stirred Ava’s damp hair. They hadn’t set up camp, hadn’t

  spoken of shelter or supplies. It was as if they were still trapped in that underground moment, a

  world away from the questions they both carried.

  Ava shifted closer to him. The firelight from earlier had long faded, and the cold seeped through

  her sleeves. She didn’t say she was freezing.

  He noticed anyway.

  Without a word, he unhooked the fur-lined cloak from his back and wrapped it around her. It

  smelled like pine, smoke, and him. She let herself lean into him, feeling the tension begin to ebb

  from her shoulders.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “Me too,” he murmured, his voice low and raw.

  She glanced up at him, rain beading on his brow. “You don’t seem it.”

  “I am.” He hesitated, then added, “Not of the ruins. Not of death. Of this.”

  Her breath caught.

  A long silence.

  Then, softly, she asked, “Do you want to go back to the cave?”

  “No,” he replied, voice quiet but sure. “But I want you warm.”

  They found a shelter just inside the tree line—an old hunter’s lean-to, half-collapsed but dry.

  Ugraum crouched to clear the space, while Ava pulled her cloak tighter around her. Her wet

  blouse clung to her skin, and her teeth began to chatter as the adrenaline wore off.

  “Take that off,” he said gently. “I’ll turn away.”

  “Ugraum,” she protested, “we’ve bathed together all this time.”

  He gave her a faint smile. “Didn’t look then.”

  Ava snorted. “You’re terrible.”

  But she peeled off her shirt, fingers trembling slightly, and he tossed her his spare tunic—too

  large for her, but warm. She pulled it over her head and sank onto the bedroll.

  He joined her slowly, lying beside her, close but not too close.

  Until she moved.

  Turned. Faced him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He brushed a hand down her side, barely touching her. “For what?”

  “For… everything.”

  Without another word, she leaned in and kissed him—slow, tender, without the urgency of

  before. Just truth. His hand found her hip, steadying her. When they pulled away, breathless and

  flushed, Ava simple smiled.

  The rain drummed softly above them.

  Ava laid her head against his shoulder, and they stayed there—tangled, quiet—while the storm

  washed the world clean around them.

  * * *

  By midday, they arrived at the last ruin. Jagged stones protruded from the earth like broken ribs,

  half-swallowed by forest and fog. The scout’s directions had been accurate: just past the old clan

  boundary, nestled between a dry riverbed and the spine of the low mountains.

  It didn’t look like much.

  Which, Ava had learned to expect, meant it was likely terrifying.

  She let out a grunt as she slid her borrowed ogre-sized coat off, pulling her blouse back on and

  brushing the leaves from her trousers. She checked her satchel—still light, still missing half the

  equipment she would have killed for back in London. Home.

  Ugraum stood beside her, scanning the horizon. His axe hung loosely in his grip. “Shh.”

  “What is it?” she asked, adjusting her clothes.

  He didn’t answer, which told her everything.

  The ruin’s interior was damp and crooked, carved from black stone that shimmered faintly

  beneath the torchlight. Long-dead murals lined the walls, faded ogre glyphs scattered across the

  surfaces, and half-shattered metal discs—likely remnants of ancient magical tech—lay discarded

  on the ground. Ava ran her fingers over one of them, whispering, “This... this is different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Like it was meant to fail.”

  They ventured deeper, finding their way to a sunken room filled with dust and stillness. At the

  center of the room stood a portal frame. It was similar in shape to the one that had pulled Ava

  through, but this one was incomplete.

  But it was active.

  Barely.

  A faint crackle of unstable energy hummed from it, as if threatening to collapse—or explode—at

  any moment. Ava approached cautiously, her heart pounding.

  “This could be it,” she said. “A way home.”

  Ugraum didn’t move.

  “We don’t even know if it works,” he said.

  He stepped forward slowly. “And if it does?”

  Ava’s eyes locked onto his. “Then we both choose.”

  Ugraum stared at the broken device, his jaw tightening. “What if I said… I want to break it?”

  Ava swallowed. “Then I’d ask why.”

  He looked at her with such intensity that something inside his gaze cracked wide open.

  “Because the longer you stay, the more I feel like this world gave me something I never earned.

  And if you go… I lose it. But if you stay... you lose everything. I’m confused.”

  She stepped closer, her hand resting gently on his chest.

  “I don’t even know what ‘everything’ means anymore,” she said softly. “But I do know this: I’m

  not walking through that thing without you.”

  He stared at her, the weight of her words settling between them. For a long time, neither of them

  moved.

  Then—crunching footsteps from the tunnel behind them.

  They spun around, weapons half-raised, but a figure stumbled through the archway, bloodied

  and wide-eyed. It was one of the bandits from Ugraum’s old clan. An old friend.

  “Ugraum! It’s Rakhul’s men. They’re coming,” the bandit gasped, his voice weak. “Some want to

  help you. Others say you betrayed us. They’re close.”

  Ugraum cursed under his breath.

  Ava’s pulse quickened as she turned back to the portal. “Then we have no time to decide.”

  * * *