The world was full of gold as the morning sun was slowly being eclipsed. Sophie crouched near the campfire, wiping her hands on a dirty rag.

  Sweat, dust, and panic filled the air like smoke.

  Around her, the familiar voices of children and old women provided a fragile sense of calm. She had promised them it would be fine. She had told them help was coming.

  And they believed her.

  But further down the road, near the city gates, shouting had already started.

  “Let us in!”

  “The monsters are coming!”

  “Better we die forcing our way in than by the claws and jaws of monsters!”

  The words hit like sparks in dry brush.

  People surged toward the walls in waves, shouting, pleading. The guards had formed a half-circle with tower shields, holding the line. They haven’t lowered their spears–yet.

  Sophie stood, heart pounding.

  She moved through the crowd, trying to calm those she could. “Please, stay together—we’ll be okay. Help is coming.” Some listened. Familiar faces nodded and repeated her words to others. But it wasn’t enough.

  The mood shifted sharply as a detachment of soldiers marched toward the gate from the road. Dust swirled around their feet.

  Sophie’s breath caught. Each arrival could be the last. The one to close the gates. And it was getting late.

  No. Not yet. I still need to get back.

  She turned, trying to weave her way through the crowd, but it was impossible.

  Bodies pressed in all directions. Someone shoved her without meaning to.

  She stumbled, catching herself on a tent pole. Her limbs felt too light. Panic was overcoming her too.

  The soldiers passed through the crowd, bashing people aside without restraint.

  The gate opened just a little. The soldiers made their way in… Then the guards started to inch backwards, toward the city.

  People cried out, pushing against the retreating concave, their fists bashing against the shields.

  Spears were lowered, but the refugees were too close to utilize the long weapons.

  The guards kept inching back under the relentless assault of the desperate. Finally, the entire line had slipped behind the walls.

  The gates started to close up.

  Most refugees moved back, giving up on their feeble attempts. Most.

  Sophie tore her eyes away, hoping to escape the incoming sight. But she couldn’t escape the noise.

  The massive slabs of iron shut close with a chorus of screams and crunches.

  Sophie stood frozen, surrounded by hundreds of people. Screams turned to silence. Then came the sobbing; ragged sounds of raw despair.

  The gate was closed.

  Many all around dropped to their knees. Others simply stared at the wall as if it had betrayed them personally.

  Her fingers dug into her arms, willing her legs to stay steady.

  It’s gonna be alright. Marco promised. He said it’d be okay. He said help would come.

  Her hands shook.

  It was easier to believe it, when she was on the other side of the wall.

  Then—a female voice.

  It cut through the tension, loud, yet oddly calm.

  “Many of you know me,” the speaker paused. “You remember the last long night. The city turned its back on us, but we’re here to help!”

  Sophie turned.

  A cloaked figure stood on a supply crate, elevated just enough to be seen.

  They wore rough traveling clothes and a scarf that obscured most of their face, but the way they stood… composed, commanding… it tugged at something in Sophie’s memory.

  Some from the crowd murmured in recognition. An older man raised his hand. “Miss Viera?”

  The woman nodded slightly. “Walk with me.”

  Then her eyes scanned the crowd and locked with Sophie’s. Briefly.

  No smile. No nod. Not even a glimmer of familiarity in those sharp eyes.

  She did nothing. She said nothing more. She turned around and walked, and the crowd followed.

  Sophie stood still for a moment, numb.

  Where was Marco? Wasn’t he supposed to be with Viera? Was he outside too?

  Is this the help he promised?

  She took a deep breath, pushed her doubt down into her chest, and stepped forward, following the crowd as it began its quiet exodus toward the forest.

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  David stood near the edge of the makeshift camp, arms folded as he watched the treeline.

  The forest pulsed with color and quiet dread. Crimson light bled through the canopy as the eclipse deepened, casting every tree in blood and shadow.

  Around him, others shifted in preparation. Dolen had already spied the soldiers’ retreat. They were waiting only for Viera now.

  The forest was thrumming.

  Footsteps. Hundreds? No. Thousands.

  Then she emerged.

  Viera stepped from between the trees, and behind her came a tide– throngs of refugees trudging through the undergrowth.

  Some carried bundles. Others clutched children or supported the old and weak. They were horrified, but hope yet burned in their eyes.

  David exhaled in relief, his chest loosening for the first time all day.

  Viera had delivered on her promise. Now he only had to survive and he would be able to tell Sophie the good news. She wouldn’t be heartbroken again. Not like last time.

  I wonder what she’s doing. Probably cooking.

  Viera stepped onto a large root and raised her voice, sharp and commanding. “We’ll be delving into some ruins tonight. If you help us hold the line, we will help keep you safe.”

  Murmurs rippled through the refugees—questions, fear, protest.

  She silenced them, raising her hand. “This,” she said, placing another hand on the shoulder of the man beside her, “Is a knight who will lead you.”

  Cero stepped forward, his armor clinking, and drew the frostfire blade from its scabbard.

  The blade caught the eclipse light, scattering chaotic reflections of magenta and blood-red as frost and flames flickered from it.

  Gasps escaped from the crowd.

  He raised the sword overhead, shouting, “On my name, until the dawn breaks, we will stand!”

  There was a pause. A few cheers erupted. Not loud. Not brave. But that was enough. It had to be.

  They marched.

  David’s group moved as one, slowly, winding their way deeper into the forest. The refugees followed.

  Soon, they found the Roelle trees; Thick, tall and luminescent, their leaves pale blue in daylight, but now glowing magenta beneath the crimson sky.

  It was beautiful and out of place, as if someone turned the forest into a massive neon sign.

  David stared at them. He hasn’t seen colors like that ever since he died. For a heartbeat, he was somewhere else.

  Concrete streets. Buzzing billboards. A comfy office job.

  Marie.

  Their apartment. Her smile. The warehouse…

  No. Go away.

  He shook his head hard, forcing it all back down.

  The ground sloped upward and then opened up.

  They reached the ruins.

  A vast pit carved into the earth yawned before them, the edges lined with jagged stone and cracked pillars leaning like drunken sentries. At its center was a massive stairway, cut straight into the rock, leading into the unknown.

  David peered over the edge, heart pounding. The air here was colder and smelled like death.

  Viera raised her ring, whispering something under her breath. Mana pulsed. A shimmer passed over the area, masking the ruins in illusion.

  Cero stayed a distance away, frostfire sword in hand, barking orders as he began organizing the refugees into a perimeter defense.

  David could already see makeshift barriers being formed, old branches and loose stone dragged into place.

  Viera turned to the remaining group. “Once inside, we’ll secure the interior. After that we’ll separate into–”

  Hiveo tapped his cane twice, interrupting Viera. “By all means, let’s get a full lecture going. We have the time.” His voice was clipped. He kept glancing over his shoulder as if the shadows might reach for him at any moment.

  Dolen rolled his eyes but said nothing. Janni flexed her gauntleted fingers.

  David fidgeted. Was the man always so anxious?

  Unwilling to argue with Hiveo, Viera grunted. “Fine. Let’s speak as we go.”

  Dolen conjured a gentle light, flickering like a lantern flame. It did little to stave off the suffocating pressure of the darkness before them.

  The stone walls surrounded them with each step, until the forest, the sky, and the world above was gone.

  Only the dark below remained.

  The stone steps followed a sharp incline, the air growing colder with every step.

  The descent was quiet. Boots against stone. Dripping water. Breaths held.

  And with each step, the stairway widened, eventually flattening into a cavernous chamber.

  David’s breath caught as Dolen’s light illuminated the nearby walls. The stone ran in flowing, organic patterns; depictions of fauna in flora. They were chiseled, remnants of paint still visible here and there.

  Who made this? Why?

  The chamber’s center was split by a broad pool, smooth and silent. Water collected there from shallow channels cut into the floor.

  Someone skilled had built this. Someone smart.

  They stopped at the edge of the water. Dolen murmured a phrase and summoned a second orb, sending it gliding across the surface. It floated with eerie grace, throwing ripples of light against the walls.

  Across the water, on the far side, stood a pair of massive stone doors. They too were etched with spirals and runes that shimmered faintly in the reflected glow.

  And next to the doors, curled like a grotesque sculpture, lay the corpse of a giant centipede.

  David shivered.

  Its carapace was cracked open in many places, legs curled inward like broken wires.

  The glint of chitin in the dark brought a sudden jolt of memory—the predator’s corpse in Grainwick. David squeezed his fists tight, instinctually hiding his nails.

  Viera cursed under her breath. “Great. Let’s hope they eradicated the nest already.”

  All eyes turned to Hiveo.

  He grimaced, rubbing at his temple. “This wasn’t in the reports. We proceed.”

  The mage knelt beside the pool and sent the second light drifting below the surface. It sank slowly, illuminating the rocky bottom in blurred outlines.

  “Chest-deep,” Dolen said. “Walkable.”

  “You could freeze it, no?” Hiveo’s face scrunched up.

  “Could. Won’t. We don’t know what awaits us deeper.” Dolen shrugged and stepped into the water.

  Viera and Hiveo followed after him, cursing at the cold water.

  David hesitated. He’d have to swim. He had to secure his potions first–

  Suddenly, Janni grabbed him under his armpits and hoisted him onto her shoulder in a smooth motion.

  “No time to daydream.”

  He didn’t argue.

  The water only splashed him, but it really was unpleasant.

  On the far side, they climbed out dripping wet. Well, everyone but him.

  Dolen focused and a magic circle flared into life against the wall. A soft wind bloomed in the chamber, warm and dry, trying to return the comfort stolen by the short traversal.

  While they dried off, Viera and Janni crouched beside the centipede’s corpse.

  “Earthshakers,” Janni murmured. “I can take on two, maybe three, you?”

  Viera didn’t respond, but lifted a single finger.

  David drifted toward the doors, drawn by the carvings.

  Lines looped and spiraled across the stone, forming a message in ancient script. Some parts were illegible, lost to time and corrosion… some simply unknown to him.

  He ran his fingers along the symbols, but he could only make out the last two words:

  … … eternity awaits.

  Below the message, the stone was marred by a long, deep gash—three parallel claw marks carved straight through the stone. A warning?

  David stared at the carvings and felt the back of his neck prickle.

  Was this some kind of a resting place? A tomb?