orld and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

The group reaches the fortress and boundaries are crossed.

Sorry for the lack of posts been busy but I’m back and the full story is written! Just editing and cleaning it up now!

I’ll also be fixing some previous chapters issues and cleaning some stuff up to make it more cohesive over all.

Also sorry if I worried you I see I got some messages I’m 100% ok nothing bad happened.

Chapter 19 Recap.

Before I can scramble to safety, the wall of rock and snow above us gives way. An avalanche of stone and ice crashes down, slamming into both me and the knight. The world turns white and cold, the force of it driving the air from my lungs.

I can feel myself falling, tumbling through the chaos as the snow and rock swallow me whole. My mind races, panic and terror taking over. Did it knock me off the mountain? Is this it? Is this how I die?

The thought hits hard, but there’s no time to hold onto it. The cold bites at my skin, and the sensation of weightlessness overtakes me as the ground disappears. The last thing I see before the world goes dark is the blur of white and shadow as the avalanche drags me into the void.

Chapter 20

I blink slowly, my head pounding and my body heavy. Everything feels… wrong. Cold seeps into my skin, biting and relentless, while the sound of shifting snow echoes faintly around me. My chest heaves as I try to pull in air, each breath sharp and shallow.

I’m alive? The thought drifts sluggishly through my mind, half-formed and uncertain. My fingers twitch, brushing against something rough—rock? Snow? It’s hard to tell.

Where am I?

I blink again, the world around me coming into hazy focus. Snow is everywhere, clinging to my face, my hair, my clothes. The pale light of day filters through the fog above, weak and distant.

“Shade…?” I think weakly, my voice barely a whisper even in my mind.

“Still here,” he replies, his voice softer than usual, almost… steady. “I told you I wouldn’t let you die.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry and raw. “What… happened?”

“The avalanche,” Shade says calmly. “You’re lucky you didn’t fall farther. But that knight? He’s down here with you. Somewhere.”

The memory hits me like a jolt—the glowing blade, the crashing snow, the fall. My heart races as I push myself up slightly, wincing as pain flares through my side. My body feels battered, bruised, but not broken.

The snow shifts under me as I move, and I realize how deep I’m buried. The air is cold and thin, making every breath feel like a struggle. My bow is still in my hand, though my quiver feels lighter, some of the arrows lost in the chaos.

I glance around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The mountain looms above, jagged and imposing, while broken chunks of rock and debris are scattered everywhere.

He’s here. Shade’s words echo in my mind, and I tense, scanning the snow for any sign of movement.

The memory of those glowing red eyes sends a chill down my spine. If he survived… no, when he survived, he wouldn’t stop. Not until I was dead.

“Get moving, Artemis,” Shade says, his tone firm. “You won’t last long sitting here. Not with him hunting you.”

I grit my teeth and force myself to stand, the pain sharp but manageable. Snow shifts underfoot, threatening to pull me back down, but I steady myself, my bow still clutched tightly in my hand.

“You’re stronger than you look,” a deep, cold voice says from behind me.

My breath catches, and every muscle in my body freezes. Slowly, I turn my head, my heart pounding in my chest.

The knight is there, standing amidst the snow and jagged rocks like he belongs to the chaos itself. His armor is battered, slightly dented all over from our attacks and the fall, but it’s still intact. The red glow of his eyes burns brightly, cutting through the fog like twin embers in the cold.

His massive blade rests at his side, the glowing barrier still faintly pulsing with energy. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze fixed on me with that same predatory intensity.

“How are you still alive?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, part disbelief, part fear.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his boots crunching loudly against the snow. “You’re resilient,” he says finally, his tone almost… amused. “Most would have broken under that avalanche. But not you. Impressive.”

My grip on the bow tightens instinctively, my mind racing. He’s too strong. I barely survived before, and now I’m alone.

Shade’s voice slides into my thoughts, calm but edged with tension. “You’re not entirely alone, Artemis. You’ve got me. But you’ll need to be smart.”

I take a shaky breath, keeping my eyes on the knight. “What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He chuckles, the sound low and hollow. “The same thing I wanted before,” he says, raising his sword slightly. “Your life.”

The words send a chill down my spine, but I don’t let it show. I take a small step back, my boots sliding slightly in the snow. My heart pounds, but I force myself to focus.

“There’s no point in this,” I say, trying to stall. “What do you get out of killing me? What’s the point of any of this?”

The knight pauses, tilting his head again. For a brief moment, I think I’ve thrown him off. But then he takes another step forward, his blade glowing brighter.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says simply, his voice devoid of emotion.

Shade hums in my mind, his tone measured. “He’s not here to talk, Artemis. You need to move. Now.”

I don’t need to be told twice. My legs move before I fully register it, and I dive to the side just as the knight swings his sword. The blade carves through the air, slamming into the snow where I was standing with a deafening crack.

The impact sends rock and ice flying everywhere, forcing me to shield my face as the sharp fragments sting against my skin. My breath is ragged as I shout, desperation creeping into my voice.

“Stop! We’re both real people! We can just talk this out!”

The knight doesn’t pause. His glowing eyes burn brighter as he swings his blade at a massive boulder in his path, slicing through it like paper. The jagged halves tumble away, crashing into the snow below.

“Who cares?” he growls, his voice cold and detached as he turns back toward me.

My mind races for anything—anything—that can stop him. “Are you trapped here? Like us?” I ask, the words tumbling out before I can stop myself.

He pauses briefly, his head tilting slightly as if considering my question. Then he speaks, his tone sharp and cutting. “Of course I am.”

The answer sends a chill down my spine, but it’s his next words that make my stomach drop. “And my way out… is by getting rid of everyone else.”

“What?!” I shout, my voice breaking with disbelief.

He doesn’t respond, stepping forward again with that unrelenting precision. I scramble backward, rolling to avoid the edge of his blade as it comes down again, its glow slicing through the snow and rock with terrifying ease.

I try to get to my feet, but the ground beneath me shifts. My boot slips on a patch of ice near the edge of a drop, and I barely catch myself before sliding farther.

The knight stops, his glowing blade lowering slightly as he looks at me with an eerie calm. “We all have different rules,” he says, his voice almost conversational now, as though explaining the weather. “My way back is by killing enough people… like you.”

My blood runs cold. “You’re lying,” I say, my voice shaking. “That’s not—there’s no way that’s how this works.”

He shrugs, raising his blade again. “Believe what you want. But I’m not staying here.”

Shade’s voice cuts into my thoughts, sharp and urgent. “Artemis, he’s serious. He’s not here to scare you—he’s here to finish this. You need to move, now.”

“I’m working on it!” I think back, my chest heaving as I try to find a way out of this.

The knight takes another step forward, the edge of his blade glowing brighter as he lifts it high. “I’ll make this quick I promise,” he says coldly.

I grit my teeth, my mind spinning. I have to find a way to stop him. If he’s telling the truth, then… how many others has he already killed?

The thought ignites something in me—fear, yes, but also anger. I’m not going to let him use me as just another stepping stone for his escape.

“Shade, get me up!” I think desperately, my heart pounding as the knight raises his blade.

Without hesitation, Shade springs into action. A dark, shadowy arm bursts from my side, moving faster than I can track. It slams into the knight’s chest, forcing him back several steps, the impact sending snow and shards of rock scattering around him.

At the same time, another tendril coils around me, lifting me off the icy ground with surprising force. It pushes me upward, and before I fully register what’s happening, Shade’s arm stretches out and latches onto the cliffside above, anchoring us firmly in place.

“Up you go,” Shade says, his voice calm but slightly strained, as though the effort requires more of him than usual. “Don’t waste this.”

The knight regains his footing quickly, his glowing red eyes snapping toward me. His sword hums with energy, the glowing edge flaring brighter as he tightens his grip.

“Stay focused,” I mutter to myself, clutching my bow as I steady myself on the ledge Shade has pulled us onto. My legs feel shaky, but the solid ground beneath me gives me a sliver of confidence.

The knight takes a step forward, his blade raised as if preparing to leap towards me.

“Not so fast,” I growl, nocking another arrow.
Shade hums approvingly in my mind. “That’s better. Now show him why you’re not just another target.”

I fire down as fast as I can, barely taking a second to aim. Shot after shot streaks through the air, each one pulsing with Shade’s shadowy energy. Some miss, slamming into the ground or the rocks around him, but most find the right mark, forcing the knight to block with his massive sword.

The glow of his blade flashes with every deflection, but he’s struggling now, his movements slower and less fluid. The shots that miss him are still causing chaos, carving deep cracks into the cliffside I was standing on moments ago.

My eyes dart toward the damage, and an idea clicks into place.

I stop aiming directly at him, instead shifting my focus to the ground between him and the wall of the mountainside. My arrows hit hard, the ground splintering and crumbling as the cracks spread outward.

The knight pauses for a moment, his glowing eyes narrowing as he seems to realize what I’m doing. He crouches, readying himself to jump—no doubt planning to close the distance between us in one leap.

“Not this time,” I mutter under my breath, firing one last shot into the weakened ground.

The moment his feet leave the ground, it happens. The earth beneath him gives way, collapsing with a deafening roar. The jagged cliff crumbles into the void, taking him with it.

The knight disappears into the fog below, his glowing red eyes the last thing I see before the mist swallows him whole.

The ground beneath my feet shakes violently from the aftershock, but I stay steady, clutching my bow tightly as I stare down into the fog. My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant rumble of falling rocks.

Shade’s voice cuts through the silence, calm but edged with something almost… impressed. “Well played. You aren’t hopeless after all.”

I don’t respond, my breath still ragged as I scan the fog below, half-expecting him to reappear, to pull himself out of the abyss like nothing happened. But there’s nothing. Just the faint sound of rocks tumbling deeper into the void.

I step back from the edge, my legs trembling slightly. “Is he… gone?” I whisper, more to myself than anyone.

“For now,” Shade replies. “But don’t get comfortable. Men like him don’t stay down for long.”

I tighten my grip on my bow, swallowing hard. The fight may be over, but I know Shade’s right. This isn’t the last I’ve seen of him.

Even though I didn’t do the climbing myself, exhaustion seeps into every part of me. The fight, the fall, and the sheer mental strain of surviving all of it have taken their toll. My legs feel unsteady beneath me, and I take a moment to steady my breathing, gripping my bow tightly.

I glance around, my eyes scanning the rocky ledge until I finally spot the others. They’re clustered a short distance away, their torches barely flickering in the cold air. Kaida looks anxious, pacing in short, tight steps, while Lorien is sitting against a rock, holding his side where the knight’s blade nicked him. Hrothgar stands close by, his massive axe planted in the ground, looking alert but visibly worn. Veyron, of course, is leaning casually against a boulder, but his eyes are sharp, scanning the cliffs for any sign of movement.

“So, time for my reveal?” Shade says, his voice smooth and teasing. “Imagine their faces when you tell them you’ve got a shadow buddy keeping you alive. It’ll be priceless.”

“Nope,” I think back quickly, my tone firm. “I’ll just say I used special arrows. That’s… kinda true. I used one on that wolf a while ago, remember?”

Shade chuckles softly, his amusement rippling through my thoughts. “Ah yes, the infamous ‘special arrows’ excuse. Very convincing. Totally believable.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” I reply, glancing at the others again. My stomach twists as I think about what their reactions might be if they knew the truth about Shade—about what’s been living in my head since that fight.

“Fine, fine,” Shade says, his voice mockingly resigned. “But one day, Artemis, they’re going to figure it out. And when that day comes… I hope you’re ready.”

I push the thought aside and start walking toward the others, trying to hide the limp in my step. As I approach, Kaida is the first to notice, her head snapping up.

“Artemis!” she calls out, her relief evident as she rushes over. “Oh my god are you okay? What happened? We thought—”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off, forcing a tired smile. “The knight… he’s gone. For now.”

Lorien looks up at me, his expression a mixture of concern and disbelief. “How did you manage that?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.

I hesitate for half a second before responding. “I used some special arrows I’d found.” I say, holding up my bow as if to emphasize the point. “They pack a bit of extra power. I had to use them to knock him off the mountain.”

Kaida narrows her eyes slightly, clearly skeptical. “Special arrows, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, trying to sound confident. “I found them on that mission I did. They’re, uh… situational.”

Hrothgar lets out a low grunt, stepping forward. “Whatever you did, it worked. That’s what matters. But we’ll need to keep moving incase he’s alive and decides to come back—or worse, if there are more like him.”

I nod, grateful for the distraction. “Agreed. Let’s get moving.”

As we start to gather ourselves and prepare to leave, I feel Shade’s presence hum softly in the back of my mind. “Smooth, Artemis. Very smooth. But you might want to practice your delivery next time.”

I ignore him, focusing instead on the path ahead. I’ll deal with Shade—and the truth—when the time comes. For now, survival is all that matters.

But the words the knight said keep spinning in my head like a storm I can’t quiet. Finally, I take a breath and speak. “There’s something you need to know,” I say, my voice low but urgent. “The knight… he said his way out of here is by killing people like us. He said we all have different rules for escaping.”

Kaida freezes mid-step, her eyes wide. “What?”

Hrothgar’s expression darkens, his grip tightening on his axe. “He said that?”

Before anyone can say more, a low groan pulls my attention, and my heart drops. Lorien is on the ground, his hand pressed against his side, his face pale.

“Lorien!” I rush over, dropping to my knees beside him. “Are you okay? Talk to me!”

He forces a weak smile, though it barely reaches his eyes. “I’m… fine. Just—” He winces sharply, his body tensing as he tries to move.

“You’re not fine!” I snap, panic creeping into my voice. “We need to give him a potion. Now!”

Kaida is already moving, pulling a small vial from her pouch. She hands it to me, her face tight with worry. “Here. Make him drink it.”

I take the potion with shaky hands and uncork it, holding it to Lorien’s lips. “Drink this,” I say, my voice softer now. “It’ll help.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes meeting mine, before he nods and takes a sip. The liquid glows faintly as he drinks, and I can already see some of the tension leaving his body.

“Better?” I ask, brushing his hair back from his face without thinking.

He nods again, his breathing evening out. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Better.”

Hrothgar steps closer, his massive frame casting a long shadow over us. “What did that knight mean, Artemis? About needing to kill people to escape?”

I swallow hard, looking up at him and the others. “I don’t know,” I admit, the words tasting bitter. “But if he’s telling the truth… then this is bad. And it means we’re not just fighting to find a way out—we’re fighting other people.”

Kaida’s eyes narrow, her hand tightening around her staff. “So what, we’re just supposed to watch our backs for every other player out there now? This just keeps getting worse.”

“It’s not going to happen to us,” I say firmly, though the weight of the knight’s words still sits heavily on my shoulders. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Lorien reaches up, his hand brushing against mine. “We will,” he says softly, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. “We’ll figure it out. No matter what.”

I nod, squeezing his hand gently before helping him sit up. For now, he’s safe. But the storm inside me is far from settled.

Lorien is still hurt, but his breathing is steady, and the wound is closed. He leans against me slightly as I help him sit up, his weight a little lighter than I’d expected. Still, the sight of him in pain makes my chest tighten.

Veyron’s voice cuts through the heavy air, sharp and uncertain. “If that’s how he can escape,” he says, glancing between the rest of us, “is that how we’re all supposed to get out? By… hunting others?”

“No,” I say quickly, the thought of it twisting in my stomach. “He… he said his rules were different.”

“Different how?” Kaida asks, her voice laced with suspicion. “Why would he have different rules? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I…” I hesitate, trying to piece it together. “I think he’s meant to be an obstacle for everyone else. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t with a group—why he was so strong.”

Hrothgar crosses his arms, his expression grim. “So he’s not playing the same game we are. He’s playing to kill, not to survive.”

“That’s what it seems like,” I say, the memory of his glowing red eyes burning in my mind. “He wasn’t just a normal player stuck here like us. He was something else entirely. A… test, maybe.”

“Or a bounty hunter,” Veyron mutters darkly, adjusting his daggers at his sides. “If he’s here to take us out one by one, it means there might be more like him. And if that’s true, then what the hell are we supposed to do?”

Kaida grips her staff tighter, her knuckles white. “I hate this,” she says quietly, her usual playful tone nowhere to be found. “I hate that we don’t know the rules, that we don’t even know what’s waiting for us at the end of all this. It’s like we’re just… pawns.”

“We’re not pawns,” I say firmly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re more than that. And if there are more like him out there, then we’ll deal with them. Together.”

Lorien’s hand brushes mine, his voice soft but steady. “You’re right. Whatever happens, we’re not facing it alone.”

Hrothgar nods, his expression resolute. “We keep moving forward. No matter what’s waiting for us, we’ll be ready.”

For a moment, the group is silent, the weight of the conversation hanging in the cold air. My thoughts race as I glance back toward the edge where the knight fell, the fog below still thick and ominous.

An obstacle. A killer with different rules. But what else is waiting for us out there?

Shade hums softly in the back of my mind, his voice calm and almost thoughtful. “You’re starting to see it, aren’t you? This world isn’t simple at all. And the longer you survive, the more you’ll realize… the rules don’t favor anyone but the ones who made them.”

I clench my jaw, pushing his words aside. The only rules I care about are the ones that will get us out of here alive. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.

“Where’s the horse?” Kaida asks, her voice uneasy as she looks toward the path ahead—the same direction the knight had emerged from earlier. Her eyes dart nervously toward the swirling fog, searching for any sign of movement.

“Probably retrieving its master,” Veyron says, his tone dry but sharp. He adjusts his daggers at his sides, scanning the area with wary eyes. “If that thing’s smart enough to follow him around, it’s smart enough to find him again. We should assume they’ll be back.”

Kaida frowns, her grip tightening on her staff. “Great. So it’s not just him we have to worry about, but his horse too.”

“Let’s get a move on,” Lorien says, his voice steady despite the faint strain in it. He shifts his spear to help steady his balance, his face pale but determined. “It’s getting late, and we’ll need to find shelter soon. We should put as much distance between us and this place as possible.”

I nod, glancing at the darkening sky. The air feels colder, heavier with every passing moment, and the shadows cast by the jagged cliffs seem to grow longer. “He’s right,” I say, my tone firm. “We’ll head toward the ridge and see if we can find a cave or something to keep us safe for the night.”

Hrothgar hefts his axe, his gaze sweeping the area. “I’ll take point. If anything else shows up, I’ll handle it.”

“Not alone, you won’t,” Veyron quips, though there’s no humor in his tone. He slips into position beside Hrothgar, his movements quiet and precise.

Kaida falls into step next to me, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a somber determination. “Let’s just hope we don’t run into any more surprises,” she mutters, her eyes flicking nervously back toward the cliff.

I glance at Lorien, walking close enough to him to offer support if he needs it. His movements are slow but steady, and he meets my gaze with a small nod.

“We’ll get through this,” he says quietly, his voice full of conviction.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. The knight and his horse are still out there, but we’re alive. For now, that’s enough. “Let’s go,” I say, gripping my bow tightly as we begin moving again.

I can’t help it—I keep glancing at Lorien’s wound as we walk. The cut looks healed from the outside, the potion having done its job, but there’s something about the way he moves, the way his steps seem heavier, more deliberate, that keeps me worried. He’s still weak, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, I can see it.

Lorien notices me looking. He adjusts his cloak, subtly shifting it to cover the area where the knight’s blade had grazed him. His lips curl into a faint smile as his eyes meet mine.

“I’m fine, Artemis. Really,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the strain behind it.

I open my mouth to argue, but something in his tone stops me. He’s trying to reassure me—to keep me calm, even if he’s struggling. My chest tightens, and I force myself to nod, though the worry doesn’t go away.

“Just… don’t push yourself too hard,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles faintly, the sound low and comforting despite everything. “I’ll be fine. Besides, someone’s got to keep you out of trouble, right?”

I roll my eyes, though my lips twitch into a small smile despite myself. “Right. Because I’m clearly the reckless one.”

“One hundred percent.” he says, his smile growing just a bit wider.

Even as we trade words, I keep an eye on him. The potion may have closed the wound, but the way the knight’s blade had glowed when it struck him… there’s something about it that I can’t shake. Something doesn’t feel right.

“You’re not wrong to worry,” Shade murmurs in the back of my mind, his voice calm and measured. “That blade wasn’t ordinary. If it left more than just a scratch, it could take time to show the full effects.”

I clench my jaw, trying to push Shade’s words aside. For now, Lorien’s walking. He’s talking. He’s alive.

That has to be enough. For now.

I glance at Lorien again, his tired smile doing little to ease the knot in my chest. Without thinking, I reach out and grab his hand in mine, squeezing it gently as we walk. His fingers curl around mine in response, and he looks at me, surprised at first, but then his expression softens.

“I’ll make sure nothing else happens to you,” I say quietly, my voice steady even though my heart feels like it’s pounding in my ears. “I have to.”

Lorien’s thumb brushes against my hand, his grip reassuring despite the weakness I can still feel in him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice warm and steady. “And neither are you.”

“Ah, young love,” Shade chimes in, his voice curling into my mind like smoke. “So determined, so protective. It’s almost sweet. Almost.”

“Not now, Shade,” I think back sharply, my jaw tightening.

“Fine, fine,” he says with a faint chuckle. “But don’t think I’m not watching this touching moment. It’s fascinating.”

I push Shade’s voice aside, focusing on Lorien’s hand in mine. His warmth is a small comfort against the biting cold, and even though the exhaustion in his steps worries me, I keep my grip firm.

The others don’t say anything about it—Kaida glances back briefly, her expression soft but unreadable, before she turns her attention back to the trail ahead.

We keep walking, the crunch of snow beneath our boots the only sound for a while. No matter what’s ahead, no matter how many more knights or dangers wait for us, I know one thing for sure: I’ll protect him.

I have to.

As the night deepens, the last torch flickers weakly before finally burning out, leaving us in near-darkness. The only light left comes from the faint glow of Kaida’s staff, its warmth barely enough to fight back the biting cold as the snow begins to fall again.

The icy flakes settle on my skin, and I shiver, pulling Kaida’s sash tighter around me. It does little to stop the chill from creeping into my bones. My breath fogs in the air, each exhale a sharp reminder of how unforgiving this place is.

“There,” Veyron says suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. He points into the fog, his voice carrying a mix of relief and caution. “Looks like a cave.”

I squint into the gloom, following his gesture. For a bit I see nothing but the swirling fog and shadows of jagged rocks. Then, faintly, I make out the dark outline of an opening carved into the mountainside.

“Finally,” Kaida mutters, clutching her staff tighter. Her voice is tired, and I can see her shoulders sagging under the weight of the day. “Let’s hope it’s not already occupied by something with teeth.”

Hrothgar steps forward, his axe ready as he narrows his eyes at the cave. “I’ll check it out first,” he says firmly, his deep voice cutting through the wind. “Stay here.”

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “We stick together. If something’s in there, we’re better off facing it as a group.”

Hrothgar hesitates, then nods, motioning for the others to follow. “Stay behind me, then. I’ll take point.”

As we move toward the cave, the snow grows heavier, the wind biting through my thin clothing like needles. My hands are numb, and my legs feel sluggish, but I force myself to keep going, my grip on my bow tighter than ever.

Lorien glances at me, his brows furrowing as he notices my shivering. He moves closer, his cloak brushing against my arm. “Take this,” he says softly, starting to unfasten it.

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “You need it more than I do. You’re still recovering.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, his voice firm but kind. “You’re freezing.”

Before I can argue, Hrothgar calls back over his shoulder. “We’re here. Stay sharp.”

We step into the cave, its entrance yawning wide like a mouth. The faint glow of Kaida’s staff illuminates the rough stone walls, casting long shadows that stretch into the darkness.

The air inside is still and quiet, a stark contrast to the howling wind outside. It’s not much warmer, but at least it’s shelter.

“Clear so far,” Veyron says, his voice low as he scans the space. “Doesn’t look like anything’s nesting in here. Yet.”

“Good,” I say, my voice tight with relief. “Let’s set up here for the night. We’ll keep watch in shifts, just in case.”

Kaida leans against the wall, letting out a long sigh as she lowers her staff slightly. “I call third watch,” she mutters, clearly ready to drop.

Lorien’s eyes linger on me for a moment, his concern obvious, but he doesn’t say anything as he moves to sit down against the wall.

I glance toward the entrance, watching the snow fall in the growing darkness. The chill seeps deeper into my skin, but I try to ignore it.

“I’ll get the fire started,” Kaida says, pulling one of the fire supply kits from her pack. She kneels near the center of the cave, her staff’s glow reflecting faintly off the damp stone walls as she begins working.

The others start moving into action, settling into a rhythm that feels practiced by now. Veyron scouts the edges of the cave, his steps silent as he checks for anything we might’ve missed. Hrothgar starts arranging some of the rocks into a rough fire pit to help contain the flames, his broad shoulders moving steadily despite the long day.

I glance over at Lorien, who’s leaning against the wall, his spear resting across his lap. He’s trying to look like he’s fine, but the slight tightness in his movements gives him away.

“Just sit,” I say firmly, crossing the short distance between us.

“I can help,” he protests, his voice soft but steady.

“Not a chance,” I reply, my tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ve already done enough. Just rest.”

Lorien opens his mouth as if to argue but then sighs, his lips curving into a faint, tired smile. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, someone has to be,” I say, crouching down to adjust the strap on his pack before standing again. “Now stay put.”

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head as he leans back against the wall, though I can still see the flicker of worry in his eyes as he watches me move.

Kaida claps her hands together as a small flame sparks to life in the fire pit. “There we go,” she says, sitting back on her heels with a satisfied grin. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.”

The warm glow of the fire fills the cave, the flickering light casting long shadows across the walls. It’s a small comfort against the cold, but it’s enough to make the space feel a little less like a tomb.

I glance toward the entrance, the snow still falling heavily just beyond the cave’s mouth. The wind howls faintly, a reminder of just how exposed we are out here.

“Let’s make this quick,” I say, turning back to the others. “Get set up, eat something if you need to, and then we’ll take shifts keeping watch. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Hrothgar nods, his expression as steady as ever. “I’ll take watch.”

Lorien looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes his eyes briefly, letting the firelight dance across his face as he relaxes against the cave wall.

As everyone settles in, I take a seat near the fire, pulling Kaida’s sash tighter around me. The warmth of the flames feels good, but the weight of the knight’s words still linger in my mind.

He’ll be back, I think to myself. And next time, we need to be ready.

As the others settle in, I pull the map from my pack. The flickering firelight makes the markings on the parchment dance as I spread it across my lap, smoothing it out with cold, trembling fingers.

My eyes trace the familiar paths, the winding trails we’ve followed to get here, and the jagged peaks of the mountains looming ahead. Finally, my gaze lands on the structure etched into the map—the destination we’ve been pushing toward all this time.

It’s nestled deep in the mountains, its design stark and foreboding even on paper. The lines and details of the structure make it clear that it’s no simple ruin or outpost. It looks like a fortress, towering and isolated, as though the mountain itself is cradling it.

My chest tightens as I stare at it. That’s it. That’s where we need to go.

“What’s it look like?” Shade asks, his voice cutting into my thoughts. His tone is curious, almost amused. “Your final destination? Or maybe just the next nightmare waiting to happen?”

“It’s a big fortress,” I think back, my jaw tightening. “It doesn’t look welcoming.”

“Of course not,” Shade replies smoothly. “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth the effort, would it?”

I ignore him, my eyes scanning the map for any notes or details I might’ve missed before. There’s a symbol near the structure—a faint, glowing mark similar to the one we saw on the key. It sends a ripple of unease through me, but it also confirms what I already know: this is where the answers are.

“We’re close,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone.

Lorien’s voice breaks the silence. “What’s close?”

I glance up, meeting his tired but curious gaze. The firelight flickers across his face, and for a moment, the exhaustion in his eyes softens.

“The fortress,” I say, holding up the map so he can see. “Our destination. It’s just beyond these mountains.”

Kaida shifts closer, peering over my shoulder at the map. Her eyes widen slightly. “That’s what it is? It looks… massive.”

“It does,” I admit, folding the map back up and tucking it away. “But that’s where we’ll find answers. About Lyra. About this world. Maybe even about how to get out of here.”

Hrothgar nods solemnly, his gaze thoughtful. “Then we press on. No matter what’s waiting for us there.”

“Yeah,” I say, though my stomach churns at the thought. Whatever’s inside that fortress, it’s not going to make things easy for us. And after everything with the knight, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re walking into something far worse.

But we don’t have a choice.

This key better lead to Lyra and answers like we were told it would, I think, my eyes lingering on the map for a moment longer before folding it carefully and tucking it back into my pack. The thought of all this effort leading to nothing—of losing Lyra for good—makes my chest tighten, but I shove it down. We’ve come too far to let doubt creep in now.

For now, we need to focus on surviving the night.

I glance around at the others. Lorien’s sitting quietly by the wall, his head tilted back and his eyes half-closed, though I can tell he’s still alert. Kaida is already curled up near the fire, her staff resting beside her, its faint glow casting soft light across her peaceful face. Hrothgar and Veyron are further away, talking in low voices near the mouth of the cave.

For now, we rest, I tell myself. Whatever comes tomorrow, we’ll deal with it together.

I lean back against the cold, uneven wall of the cave, pulling Kaida’s sash tighter around me. The fire crackles softly, its warmth barely keeping the chill at bay, but it’s enough for now. My body aches from the day’s battle, but the exhaustion feels heavier than the pain.

Shade stirs quietly in the back of my mind, his voice low and reflective. “You’re doing well, Artemis. But the hardest part’s are still ahead. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” I think back, too tired to argue with him. “But I’ll handle it. We all will.”

He hums thoughtfully, his presence fading slightly. “We’ll see. Rest while you can, little archer. Tomorrow waits for no one.”

“Same thing as before?” I hear Lorien say softly next to me, his voice warm and familiar despite the chill in the air.

Before I can answer, he moves closer, draping the side of his cloak over me like he did last night. The weight of it settles around my shoulders, cutting through the cold enough to make me exhale a small, shaky breath of relief.

“Oh. Thanks,” I murmur, glancing at him. His face is tired but calm, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’re freezing,” he says simply, his tone laced with quiet concern.

I start to protest, but the warmth is already spreading through me, and I can’t bring myself to argue. Instead, I settle against the wall, my head dipping slightly closer to him as the fire crackles softly in front of us.

“You need to focus on resting,” I whisper, glancing at his side where the wound had been earlier. “You’re still recovering.”

“So are you,” he counters, his smile growing slightly as his hand brushes against mine beneath the cloak.

I roll my eyes, but a faint smile of my own creeps across my face. For a moment, the fear and exhaustion fade just a little, leaving only the quiet warmth of his presence next to me.

Whatever tomorrow brings, at least I know I’m not facing it alone.

I glance at Lorien, my eyes meeting his in the dim glow of the fire. There’s something about the way he looks at me—steady and calm, like nothing else in the world matters right now—that makes my chest tighten in a way I can’t explain.

For some reason, I can’t help but smile.

It’s small at first, hesitant, but it grows as I watch his tired but reassuring expression. He notices, and his own smile softens, his hand brushing against mine beneath the edge of the cloak.

“What?” he asks quietly, his voice low, carrying a faint note of curiosity.

“Nothing,” I reply, though my smile doesn’t fade. “Just… thanks. For this. For being here.”

His brows raise slightly, like he’s surprised I’d say that. But instead of brushing it off, he tilts his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Always,” he says simply, the word carrying more weight than I expect.

The fire crackles softly, the cave around us quiet except for the sound of the wind howling faintly outside. I want to say something—anything—to fill the silence, but for once, I don’t feel the need to.

Instead, I just hold onto the moment, letting his warmth and presence ground me as the cold mountain night presses on.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I watch Lorien closely.

His gaze flicks to mine, his tired smile growing slightly. “I’m fine, Artemis,” he says gently. “You don’t have to keep worrying about me.”

“So worried about your boyfriend.” Shade chimes in, his voice curling through my mind like smoke. There’s no edge to it this time—just a teasing tone, light and deliberate.

“Shut up,” I think sharply, though I can feel my face grow warmer despite the cold air around us.

Lorien seems to notice something in my expression, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’re the one who should be resting,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “You’ve been through just as much today—and more.”

“I’m fine,” I reply, echoing his earlier words, though the way he raises an eyebrow makes me feel like I’m not convincing him at all.

“Right,” he says, his voice carrying a faint note of amusement. “Because you’re totally great at taking your own advice.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small laugh that escapes me. “I’m just making sure you don’t fall apart on us. Someone has to.”

“And here I thought that was my job,” he teases, though there’s a warmth in his voice that makes my chest ache.

For a moment, I let myself relax, leaning slightly closer to him beneath the shared cloak. Whatever Shade has to say about it, I don’t care. Lorien’s okay—for now—and that’s all I need.

All I need… The thought echoes in my mind, unbidden and persistent. I glance at him again, taking in the faint firelight on his face, the warmth of his presence next to me, the way his tired smile softens when he looks at me.

I really do—

The realization hits me like a jolt, a sharp, undeniable truth that makes my breath catch. I do love him.

The words swirl in my mind, and for a moment, I feel like the world stops around me. The howling wind outside the cave, the crackling fire, the ache in my body—it all fades into the background. All I can focus on is him.

Lorien notices me staring, his head tilting slightly. “What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, his voice breaking through my thoughts like the gentlest of nudges.

“I…” I start, but the words catch in my throat. I can feel my heart pounding, my chest tightening with the weight of everything I want to say but can’t. Not yet.

He waits, his expression calm and patient, like he always does. That steadying presence that’s been there since the moment we started this journey.

Instead of answering, I just shake my head slightly and offer him a small, reassuring smile. “Just… making sure you’re okay,” I manage to say.

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and familiar. “Always worrying,” he teases, his tone light but fond.

I let the moment pass, holding onto my secret for now. But the thought lingers, a quiet truth that feels both terrifying and comforting.

I love him.

“I told you,” Shade says, his voice sliding into my mind with that familiar mix of amusement and smugness. “All that denial, all that overthinking… and here we are. You love him.”

“Shut up,” I think back sharply, though there’s no real heat behind it. My cheeks feel warmer than the fire in front of me, and I instinctively look away from Lorien, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Shade continues, his tone almost sing-song. “It’s sweet, really. You’ve been tiptoeing around it this whole time, and now you’ve finally admitted it. To yourself, at least.”

“Not the time, Shade,” I snap, my grip tightening on the edge of the cloak.

“Fine, fine,” he says, the chuckle in his voice impossible to miss. “But it’s only a matter of time before you tell him. And when you do, I’ll be here, watching the whole thing unfold.”

I grit my teeth, shoving Shade’s voice to the back of my mind as I glance at Lorien again. He’s leaning slightly against the wall, his eyes half-closed, the firelight flickering across his face.

Do I even want to tell him? The question circles in my mind, heavier than I expected it to be. I glance at Lorien again, watching the way the firelight reflects in his eyes as he stares at the flickering flames.

I mean, I kinda said I think I might… but…

I shift slightly under the cloak, the warmth doing little to ease the knot forming in my chest. We’re still trying to get out of here. I don’t want to make it harder on him when we do.

“Ah, the classic conundrum,” Shade chimes in, his voice curling through my thoughts like a lazy ripple. “To confess or not to confess. After all, why add something so… messy to an already impossible situation?”

“Exactly,” I think back sharply, my jaw tightening. “If we make it out of here, things will be… different. I don’t want to make things harder for him—or for me.”

“Mmm,” Shade hums, the sound thoughtful but still laced with that teasing edge. “But what if you don’t make it out? What if this—here, now—is all you have? You’re playing the long game, but that’s a dangerous game in a world where tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”

The words hit harder than I want to admit, and I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to let Shade’s voice sway me. “We’re getting out of here,” I think firmly. “And when we do, this’ll be easier. It has to be.”

“If you say so,” Shade replies, his tone casual but faintly mocking. “But you might want to figure that out sooner rather than later. Keeping things bottled up has a funny way of blowing up in your face.”

I glance at Lorien again, his breathing even and steady as he leans back against the wall. The warmth of his presence next to me is comforting, but it’s also a reminder of how fragile this all feels.

I do want to get out. I know he does too, I think, the thought steady and firm. But another thought pushes its way through, softer but just as strong. I also… I also want to enjoy the time we have until then.

My eyes flick to Lorien again. He’s sitting quietly, his head resting lightly against the wall, his expression calm despite everything. That warmth in my chest returns, almost overwhelming this time. Before I can second-guess myself, the words slip out.

“I love you.”

The moment they leave my mouth, my face burns hotter than Kaida’s fire. I turn quickly, looking away from him, my heart hammering in my chest. Why did I say that? Why now?!

Before I can say anything else—or completely melt into the embarrassment of my own confession—I feel Lorien’s hand squeeze mine. The warmth of his touch steadying me.

I glance at him for just a moment, his soft smile catching my eye. There’s no teasing, no smugness—just something warm and reassuring. It’s enough to make my chest ache.

Without thinking, I lean closer, resting my head lightly against his shoulder. The steady rise and fall of his breath is calming, and I let myself relax into him. For a moment, the cold, the fear, and everything else outside this small cave seem to fade.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but his hand stays wrapped around mine, firm and steady.

This is enough, I think to myself. Just this… for now.

Shade’s voice hums faintly in the back of my mind, softer this time. “You’re learning to take your moments where you can. Good.”

I don’t respond to him. Instead, I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the quiet comfort of being here with Lorien. Whatever tomorrow brings, this is a moment I’ll hold onto.

And slowly, sleep takes me.

The cold of the cave, the faint crackle of the fire, the distant howl of the wind—all of it fades into a soft, muffled hum. The steady warmth of Lorien’s presence grounds me, and the tension in my body slips away little by little.

My last thoughts are of Lorien—his hand in mine, his steady breathing, his warmth against the cold. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel safe.

As I start to wake, the first thing I notice is the warmth—the steady heat of Lorien’s arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me close. His breath is slow and even, brushing faintly against the top of my head. It’s comforting, grounding.

But then… I feel something else.

Oh no… not again, I think, my face instantly heating up as I become aware of the other thing pressing against me, down at his—

“Oh, this again?” Shade says with an audible chuckle, his voice immediately invading my thoughts. “You two really need to sort yourselves out, because this is getting predictable.”

“Shut up, Shade,” I think furiously, trying to shift slightly, but Lorien’s arms tighten instinctively around me in his sleep, pulling me even closer.

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as I realize just how tangled we are. My face burns with embarrassment, but I don’t dare move again, hoping I can somehow fall back into sleep and pretend this isn’t happening.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Shade hums smugly. “You can’t ignore this forever. Why not just wake him up? I’d love to see how you explain this one.”

“Shade, I swear, I will—”

Lorien shifts slightly, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to wake up. Instead, he murmurs something unintelligible under his breath, his grip loosening just a little.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the ground to swallow me whole. This is fine. Everything is fine. Just don’t think about it.

As I lay there, trying desperately to ignore it, something else starts to creep in. It’s faint at first, just an odd warmth in the pit of my stomach, but it grows steadily, spreading like fire through my veins. An urge—a need—starts to form, completely uninvited.

No. No, no, no. Bad. Bad body, I think, my face burning hotter by the second.

Lorien shifts slightly, his arm pulling me closer in his sleep, and the movement only makes the sensation worse. My breath catches, and I press my lips together, trying to will my racing thoughts to calm down.

This is not the time. This is not the place. Stop it. Stop it.

“Oh, this is just delightful,” Shade says in my mind, his voice dripping with amusement. “And here I thought you’d be all noble about this. Looks like your body has other ideas.”

“Shade, shut up,” I snap mentally, my tone sharp but barely masking the panic swirling inside me. “This isn’t happening. This is not happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening,” he replies, his laughter almost cruelly soft. “You can fight it all you want, but instincts are instincts. And let’s be honest, Artemis, you’re not exactly helping yourself here, tangled up like that.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to focus on anything else. The cold of the cave, the distant crackle of the fire, the soft murmurs of the others still sleeping nearby. Just don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don’t—

Lorien shifts again, and I swear it’s like my entire body betrays me. The warmth in my stomach tightens, and I bury my face into the crook of his shoulder, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from making any kind of sound.

This is fine, I think furiously. This is totally fine.

The wet feeling is unlike anything I’ve felt before, a mix of heat and pressure that sends my thoughts spiraling out of control. My body feels foreign, reacting in ways I can’t control, ways I don’t even fully understand.

Nope, nope, nope, I think, my face burning so hot it might as well melt the snow outside the cave. Please just wake up, Lorien. Move. Please don’t notice I’m awake. Please, gods, if you exist, I’ll do anything. Just don’t let him notice.

Lorien shifts slightly again, his arm tightening around me like I’m some kind of anchor in his sleep. The movement doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse—makes me worse. I can feel my breathing becoming shallow, my chest rising and falling faster as I struggle to maintain any shred of control over myself.

“This is exquisite,” Shade’s voice murmurs in my mind, his amusement so thick I want to scream. “You’re trying so hard to fight it, and yet here we are. What’s your plan, exactly? Pretend this isn’t happening until it magically goes away?”

“Shade, I swear—”

“Swear all you want,” he interrupts, the laughter in his tone grating. “But let’s be honest, Artemis: this is nature. Your body knows what it wants, and it’s tired of waiting. No amount of denial is going to fix that.”

I press my face harder into Lorien’s shoulder, clenching my jaw as I try to will myself to calm down. I am not doing this right now. Not here, not like this.

The worst part is that I know Shade is partly right. My body isn’t listening to me, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to just give in. But I can’t—won’t. Not with Lorien completely unaware of what’s happening, not when I can’t even trust myself to figure out what any of this means.

Please, Lorien, just wake up on your own, I beg silently. Move. Do anything. Just… don’t notice. Please don’t notice.

My heart races as the seconds drag on, each one feeling longer than the last.

God, this is so embarrassing, I think, my face buried in Lorien’s shoulder. I’m supposed to be a guy, and here I am, trying desperately not to— I can’t even finish the thought without my cheeks burning hotter.

Be so turned on by this, I finally admit to myself, biting my lip hard in a desperate attempt to focus on the discomfort instead of the feelings coursing through me. It doesn’t help. Not when our bodies are so closely pressed together like this.

I’m hyper-aware of every little thing: the way my chest is pressed against his, my breasts squished against him with every subtle movement. And then there’s him—his "morning friend," as Shade would no doubt put it, still pressing insistently against me, no matter how hard I try to shift away.

This isn’t fair, I think miserably. How is this even happening?

“Oh, I could explain it,” Shade says, his voice smug and unhelpful as usual. *“But I think you already know. Instincts, hormones, proximity… the works. And let’s not forget that you’ve been suppressing this for weeks now. It was bound to bubble up eventually.”

“I don’t need your commentary!” I snap back in my mind, biting down harder on my lip to stifle the frustrated noise threatening to escape.

“Oh, but I think you do,” Shade hums, his tone maddeningly calm. “You need to decide whether you’re going to keep fighting this or actually let yourself feel something for once. Because right now? You’re losing either way.”

“Yeah, cause I’m totally gonna have sex with him in a cave with the others right next to us,” I think sarcastically, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation making my face burn even more. “Perfect timing, really. Just what I need right now.”

Shade laughs softly in my mind, his voice laced with amusement. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a good idea. But that doesn’t mean your body agrees with your logic.”

“Can you not?” I snap mentally, gritting my teeth as I try to shift ever so slightly, desperate to ease the tension without waking Lorien—or making things worse.

“Oh, relax,” Shade replies, his tone almost teasing. “I’m just here to enjoy the show. You’re doing all the heavy lifting yourself.”

“You’re impossible,” I hiss back, my frustration bubbling over.

Lorien shifts slightly in his sleep, and my breath catches as the movement presses us closer together for just a moment. Why does this feel so much worse now that I’ve acknowledged it?

I press my face harder into his shoulder, clenching my jaw to stop myself from making any kind of noise. The soft crackle of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside are the only things filling the silence, and I pray no one else in the cave stirs.

This isn’t happening, I think firmly, as if sheer willpower alone can override my body’s betrayal. This is not happening.

Shade hums thoughtfully. “You know, denial is a very entertaining coping mechanism. But let’s see how long you last.”

I bite my lip harder, refusing to give him—or myself—the satisfaction of any kind of reaction.

Lorien shifts slightly in his sleep, the movement unintentional but devastating as his body presses and grinds against me. A sharp jolt of heat runs through me, and I have to bite my lip hard to suppress the moan threatening to escape my lips.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I think, my face burning so hot I’m convinced it might catch fire.

“I’m sure you’d only have to ask him,” Shade says, his chuckling filling my mind, dripping with smug amusement.

“Not funny!” I snap back, barely able to keep the thought coherent as I try to will my body to calm down. It’s impossible with Lorien this close, his warmth surrounding me, his breath soft against my skin.

Shade’s voice hums with exaggerated patience. “Oh, come on. The tension is practically unbearable. Why not just—”

“Shade, I swear, shut up!” I think furiously, clenching my fists beneath the cloak. My chest is heaving slightly now, my breath shallow and uneven as I try to pull myself together.

Lorien murmurs something incoherent in his sleep, his grip around me tightening briefly before relaxing again. The small sound he makes only adds to the fire coursing through me, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut, biting down harder on my lip to stop any noise from slipping out.

This is torture, I think desperately, my heart racing. Absolute torture.

Shade chuckles again, clearly enjoying every second of my internal struggle. “You’re making this far more difficult than it needs to be, you know. But hey, I’ll sit back and enjoy the show.”

I force my mind to focus on anything else—the cold of the cave, the distant sound of the wind outside, the others sleeping nearby. Anything to distract myself from the overwhelming sensation of Lorien’s body pressed so closely against mine.

This is fine. Totally fine. Just… stop moving, Lorien. Please.

“Do you want me to take care of him?” Shade asks casually, as if this is a perfectly normal suggestion.

“What?” I think sharply, my eyes narrowing as Shade speaks, his nonchalant tone already setting me on edge.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I can subtly wake him up,” Shade explains, his voice calm and deliberate. “Maybe he wouldn’t even know it’s me. He doesn’t know I exist, after all. I could, you know… nudge him awake. Let him adjust himself.”

The suggestion makes me bristle, but I’m too flustered and desperate for the awkwardness to end to argue. “Fine. Whatever. Just do it quickly,” I think, squeezing my eyes shut. “And don’t do anything weird. Just… wake him up.”

“Of course,” Shade replies smoothly, the faint chuckle in his tone doing nothing to ease my nerves.

I wait, half-expecting some shadowy arm to nudge Lorien’s shoulder or something subtle. But instead, I feel a sudden, jarring shift—a pull, like something else is in control of me. My head moves forward on its own, my mouth opening as if on command.

“What the—”

My lips press against Lorien’s, the sensation of his warm mouth against mine making my thoughts spiral. My tongue moves, slipping past his lips and deepening the kiss.

“What the—Shade! You didn’t say you were gonna fucking make me make out with him to wake him up!”

The sensations hit me like a tidal wave—his warmth, the way his lips respond to mine, the subtle shift of his body as he kisses me back. My heart races as the moment deepens, the intensity of it making it impossible to think straight.

“What?” Shade says casually, his voice practically dripping with amusement. “I was just helping move things along. You’re welcome.”

“Move things along?! Are you kidding me?!”

Suddenly, the control snaps back to me, and I feel myself regain full autonomy. But I don’t stop. I can’t.

My lips stay locked on his, my hand gripping his cloak as the kiss deepens. Every part of me feels like it’s on fire, the sensations too overwhelming to pull away from.

I can’t stop… I think, the realization hitting me like a jolt. I don’t want to stop.

It’s like I have no control, yet I know Shade isn’t doing anything now. It’s just me—me and this overwhelming storm of sensations.

Lorien’s lips are warm, soft, and they move against mine in a way that makes my chest tighten and my breath catch. Every kiss feels deeper, more consuming, and I can’t think straight.

The wetness between my legs increases, a pooling heat that’s impossible to ignore, and my body feels impossibly sensitive. I can barely think, barely breathe, every nerve lit up like a fire I can’t put out.

His body is still pressed against mine, his arm wrapped around me, holding me close as if he doesn’t want to let go. And then there’s him—his hardness pressing against me, unrelenting and impossible to ignore. It only adds to the heat, to the way my body is betraying me completely.

What’s happening to me? I think, my mind racing even as my body refuses to stop.

The sensations are too much, too overwhelming. The closeness, the warmth, the feeling of his mouth on mine—it’s all blending together into a haze that I can’t escape. My hands grip at his cloak instinctively, desperate for something to hold onto as I lose myself in the moment.

I shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.

“You’re welcome,” Shade says smugly, his voice cutting through the haze in my mind.

I can’t think back, can’t form any kind of response. My mind is too clouded, too consumed by the heat of the moment and the overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

Lorien’s lips are still on mine, his hand moving to my back, pulling me even closer. The warmth of his body, the way he holds me like I’m something precious—it’s all too much. My breath hitches, my chest pressing against his as my body betrays me further, giving into instincts I didn’t know could feel this overpowering.

The wetness between my legs grows, making me shift slightly against him, only to feel him—his hardness—press more firmly against me. The sensation sends a jolt through my body, a whimper threatening to escape my throat as my heart pounds so loudly it drowns out everything else.

What’s happening to me? The question flickers in the back of my mind again, faint and distant. I can’t focus, can’t think past the way his touch feels, the way every part of me seems to burn for more.

I don’t even notice my hands gripping at his cloak tighter, pulling him impossibly closer, like I need him to keep me grounded—or maybe to set me alight entirely.

Shade hums in the back of my mind, clearly enjoying this, but I shove his presence to the farthest corner of my thoughts. I’m too far gone to care. Too far gone to do anything but give in to the fire consuming me.

I can’t stop myself—my hands slide under Lorien’s shirt, my fingers brushing against his bare skin. The heat of him beneath my fingertips makes my breath hitch, and I grip him instinctively, as if holding onto him will keep me from falling further into the spiral of sensations.

His tongue is still in my mouth, moving against mine, our breaths mingling, our saliva mixing in a way that makes my head spin. Every kiss feels deeper, more intoxicating, pulling me further into a haze where all that matters is him.

Lorien shifts, his grip on my back loosening slightly, and I feel his hand move. My heart skips a beat as his palm brushes against my chest, his fingers resting there hesitantly at first, as if testing the waters. Then, with a gentle but firm touch, he cups me fully, the sensation sending a jolt through my body.

A quiet gasp escapes my lips against his, and I feel my entire body tense and heat at the same time. The closeness, the intimacy, the way his touch feels so deliberate—it’s all too much. My body presses closer to his without thinking, seeking more of the warmth and connection I didn’t even know I craved.

My mind barely holds onto a single thought: I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

Lorien’s lips part slightly against mine, his breath warm and ragged as he presses deeper into the kiss. His other hand remains steady on my back, holding me close as if afraid I might slip away.

I can feel my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, my hands tightening against the firm muscles of his torso beneath his shirt. Every part of me is consumed by the moment, and no matter how much I tell myself to pull back, my body refuses to listen.

Lorien’s fingers begin to trace the edge of the opening on my tunic—the so-called boob window. Every inch of skin he touches sends a shiver through me, and the sensations are unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s as if his touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake, a heat that spreads and deepens with every slow, deliberate movement.

My breath catches as his fingers slide along the curve of my chest, teasing but never fully crossing the boundary of the fabric. The mix of anticipation and the actual sensation is overwhelming, and I can feel myself trembling slightly, my body pressing instinctively closer to him.

The intimacy of it is dizzying, the way his hand seems to linger just long enough to make my heart race faster. Every touch feels impossibly deliberate, like he’s memorizing every curve and edge of my skin, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into it, my breathing growing shallow and uneven.

"Lorien..." I murmur against his lips, the sound barely audible, a mix of surprise and something else I can't quite name.

His touch stays light but confident, his fingers exploring the edge of the fabric like he’s testing my reaction. It’s maddening, how much I want him to keep going, and yet every part of me is on edge, caught between embarrassment and desire.

I tighten my grip on his bare skin beneath his shirt, my hands pulling him closer without realizing it. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, every touch and movement igniting something deeper, something I’ve never allowed myself to feel fully until now.

We haven’t even done anything—he’s barely touched me outside of the way we’re kissing—and yet it’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before. Even that dream, as vivid as it was, doesn’t compare to the realness of this. The way his touch sends shivers through me, the way my heart races and my body responds without hesitation… it’s overwhelming.

I bite my lip hard to stop the moan that’s threatening to escape as his finger slips between the fabric of my tunic’s window and my chest. The contact is so light, so tentative, but it’s enough to make my entire body tremble.

The heat pooling in my stomach spreads, making me feel like I’m about to melt into him completely. Every small movement he makes seems to heighten the sensations tenfold, and my breath hitches as his fingers brush against the bare skin of my chest.

“Lorien…” I whisper, my voice shaky and barely audible, as if saying his name might ground me—or undo me entirely.

His lips stay locked on mine, his other hand steady on my back, holding me close as if to remind me that it’s him, that I’m safe. The tenderness in his touch contrasts with the fire it ignites, and I can feel myself giving in, letting go of the tension I didn’t even realize I was holding.

How is this happening? How is something so simple… so intense?

My hands tighten against the muscles of his torso beneath his shirt, my fingers clinging to him as though he’s the only thing keeping me upright. My mind spins, my body responding to every little touch, every movement, every moment of closeness.

I’m not sure how far this will go—or how far I want it to go—but right now, I can’t bring myself to stop.

The moment his finger brushes the tip of my chest, a sharp, uncontrollable moan escapes my lips. It’s soft but audible, and as soon as the sound leaves me, I freeze, my face burning hotter than ever.

Lorien pulls back abruptly, his lips leaving mine and his hand retreating completely. The moan—my moan—seems to have snapped him out of the moment, his expression shifting from passion to realization as his eyes widen slightly.

I pull back too, still breathing hard, my body trembling from everything that just happened—or almost happened. My chest rises and falls as I glance around the cave, panic setting in as I check to see if anyone else is awake.

Somehow, against all odds, everyone else is still asleep. Kaida is curled up by the fire, her staff glowing faintly beside her. Hrothgar’s steady breathing rumbles softly near the cave entrance, and Veyron is sprawled against the wall, looking as relaxed as ever.

If it had gone on even a moment longer, I’m not sure it would’ve been possible to stay unnoticed.

My gaze snaps back to Lorien, who’s staring at me with a mix of guilt and something I can’t quite place. His chest is heaving slightly, his lips still parted as if he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

“I…” he starts, his voice low and uncertain, but I shake my head quickly, cutting him off before he can continue.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, though my voice is shaky, my face still burning. “We… we just got carried away.”

Lorien nods, swallowing hard as he sits back against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. “Carried away.”

The tension between us lingers, heavy and impossible to ignore, but neither of us says anything else. I force myself to look away, trying to calm my breathing and ignore the heat still radiating through my body.

What just happened? I think, my mind racing. And what would’ve happened if we hadn’t stopped?

I sit up slightly, my chest still rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, every sensation still lingering, impossible to push away.

“Shade, what the hell?!” I think furiously, my face burning with embarrassment and frustration.

Shade’s voice hums in my mind, his tone utterly unapologetic. “What? Don’t look at me. That was all you, Artemis. I didn’t do a thing after handing back control.”

“You started it!” I snap mentally, my hands clenching into fists as I glare at the fire in front of me, too embarrassed to even glance at Lorien.

“I gave you a nudge,” Shade replies smoothly, his tone so casual it makes my blood boil. “But everything else? That was all you and your… ‘urges.’ You’re welcome, by the way, for letting you have a little honesty with yourself.”

I grit my teeth, glancing quickly at Lorien. He’s still leaning against the wall, his face turned away slightly, but his breathing hasn’t completely steadied either.

“You didn’t ‘let’ me do anything,” I hiss mentally. “You made everything ten times more embarrassing!”

Shade chuckles softly, the sound infuriatingly smug. “Oh, come on. Embarrassing? Maybe. But was it bad? Be honest with yourself.”

I don’t respond, because I can’t—not without admitting something I’m not ready to face yet. My gaze drops to my hands, still trembling slightly, and I press my lips together, trying to will away the lingering sensations.

“You’re welcome,” Shade repeats, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

I ignore him this time, my heart still racing as I force myself to focus on the fire. I need to calm down. I need to pull myself together.

But even as I think it, my mind drifts back to the way Lorien touched me, the way his lips felt against mine, and the fire inside me flickers all over again.

I let out a quiet sigh, my chest still tight as I try to process everything. I did that. If he hadn’t pulled back, I could’ve—I would’ve— The thought sends a shiver through me, and for a moment, the fire inside me burns brighter, hotter, before I push it down as hard as I can.

No. Not now. Not here.

My thoughts are interrupted by Lorien’s voice, soft and low, barely above a whisper. “That’s certainly the best way I’ve ever been woken up.”

My face instantly heats again, and I snap my gaze toward him, wide-eyed. He’s not looking at me, though—his head is still tilted back against the wall, his lips curled into a faint, teasing smile.

“Lorien!” I hiss, my voice just as quiet, though the mortification in it is impossible to miss.

He finally looks at me, his expression softening. “I’m serious,” he says, his tone still light but with a warmth that makes my heart flutter despite myself. “I wouldn’t mind waking up like that every day.”

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. My mind is too much of a mess, torn between the embarrassment of what just happened and the way his words make me feel—like I’m the only person in the world he wants to see right now.

Instead of saying anything, I bury my face in my hands, groaning softly. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lorien chuckles quietly, leaning closer. “It’s not embarrassing,” he murmurs, his voice gentle now. “It’s… us. And it’s okay.”

I peek at him through my fingers, my face still burning. “You’re impossible,” I whisper, though there’s no real bite to my words.

“Maybe,” he replies, his faint smile growing just a bit wider.

I can’t stop the thought from slipping through my mind, unbidden but crystal clear: I wouldn’t mind waking him up like that every day.

Crap.

I press my lips together, trying to shove the thought away, but it lingers, teasing me as my face burns hotter. I let out a soft breath, leaning back against the hard, cold wall of the cave, trying to center myself.

“Don’t expect it again,” I murmur, not looking at him, my voice quieter than I intended. “I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

Lorien shifts slightly beside me, and I can feel his gaze on me even without looking. “Artemis,” he says softly, his tone so warm it almost makes me forget where we are. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

I glance at him, my chest tightening at the way his eyes meet mine—calm, understanding, and something deeper I can’t quite put into words.

“It was…” He trails off, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Well, it was kind of perfect.”

I groan quietly, my head tilting back against the wall again. “You’re not helping,” I mutter, though I can’t keep the small, embarrassed smile from creeping onto my face.

His quiet laugh echoes softly in the stillness of the cave. “I’m not trying to help. I’m just… being honest.”

I don’t respond, my heart racing too fast to form a coherent thought. Instead, I let the moment hang between us, the warmth of it somehow enough to keep the cold of the cave at bay.

“It’s way easier for him,” Shade says suddenly, his voice breaking through the storm of emotions in my mind. “I mean, he was a guy before all of this already. And you? You’re… well, an attractive girl who he’s been spending a lot of time with.”

“Shade!” I think sharply, my face immediately heating again. “I don’t need your input right now.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues smoothly, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “You’re over here tying yourself in knots, overthinking every little thing, but for him? It’s probably as simple as breathing. You’re gorgeous, you’re close, and you care about him. What more could he possibly need to fall for you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my frustration bubbling over. “I didn’t ask for your analysis on my love life.”

“You didn’t have to,” he replies with a faint chuckle. “But since I’m in your head, I might as well offer some perspective.”

I glance sideways at Lorien, who’s sitting there with that same warm, steady presence, and my heart twists. Shade’s words, as irritating as they are, aren’t exactly wrong. Lorien isn’t caught in the same whirlwind of confusion that I am—he’s probably not questioning his entire identity, his body, or what this connection even means in the bigger picture.

“This isn’t just about looks, Shade,” I think firmly. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated, sure,” he says lightly. “But let’s not pretend that half of his brain isn’t saying, ‘Beautiful girl I care about is kissing me—this is amazing.’”

I groan internally, shaking my head slightly to try and push Shade’s voice aside. “I hate you sometimes,” I think, though there’s no real bite to my words.

“You love me,” Shade says, his smugness practically radiating through my thoughts. “But not as much as you love him.”

I don’t respond to that. I can’t. Instead, I glance at Lorien again, his quiet presence both grounding and maddening, and I silently curse Shade for getting in my head even more.

“Next time, Kaida won’t even need to start a fire,” Shade chuckles, his voice dripping with amusement. “You two can keep each other warm without it. Very efficient.”

“Shade,” I think sharply, my face immediately burning again. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Not when it’s this entertaining,” he replies smugly, the laughter in his tone only making me more frustrated. “You know, for someone so reluctant, you seem to be handling this whole ‘flirting through body heat’ thing pretty naturally.”

I glance at Lorien, who’s still sitting close, his calm demeanor completely at odds with the storm raging inside me. He shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing against mine, and my heart jumps all over again.

“I’m not handling anything,” I think, trying to keep my tone firm even though I know Shade can feel how flustered I am. “This was… it was a mistake. We got carried away, that’s all.”

“Oh, sure,” Shade hums, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Just a mistake. A very… passionate mistake. One that you wouldn’t mind repeating, by the way.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to respond to that. It’s not true, I tell myself, though the thought feels weak even as I think it.

Shade’s chuckle echoes faintly in the back of my mind. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave you to stew in your denial. For now. But you might want to figure out where you stand before the next time you two end up tangled together in the cold. Just saying.”

I let out a quiet sigh, forcing myself to focus on the fire instead of Shade’s taunts—or the lingering warmth from Lorien’s touch.

“We should probably wake them,” I say softly, my voice cutting through the quiet crackle of the fire.

Lorien looks at me, his expression calm but curious, like he’s waiting to see if there’s something more to my words. When I don’t say anything else, he nods, glancing toward the others still scattered around the cave.

“Good idea,” he replies quietly, shifting to sit up straighter. He still seems relaxed—far more than I feel—and the contrast only makes me more flustered.

I push aside the warmth still lingering in my chest and focus on the task at hand. Standing, I brush the snow and dirt off my tunic and move toward Kaida, who’s curled up near the fire. Her staff glows faintly beside her, casting soft light across her peaceful face.

“Kaida,” I say gently, crouching next to her. “It’s time to wake up.”

She stirs, groaning softly as she pulls her blanket tighter around herself. “Five more minutes,” she mutters, her voice muffled by the fabric.

I can’t help but smile faintly, shaking her shoulder lightly. “Come on. We need to get moving soon.”

Behind me, I hear Lorien waking Hrothgar with a quiet but firm tone, while Veyron sits up on his own, stretching with a yawn like he’s been awake the whole time.

Kaida finally blinks her eyes open, squinting up at me with a sleepy frown. “You’re way too chipper for someone who just woke up.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” I mutter, standing and stepping back as she sits up.

As the group begins to stir, I glance toward the entrance of the cave. The snow outside seems to have eased slightly, but the cold is still biting. The path ahead feels as uncertain as ever, but at least for now, we’re together—and awake.

“At least that guy didn’t find us yet,” I say, glancing toward the mouth of the cave where the snow has begun to lighten. “But he probably guessed where we’re headed. Why else would we be in the middle of the mountains?”

“Great. Murder Knight is still going to be after us,” Kaida mutters, rubbing her eyes as she sits up. “I almost forgot about him. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Not if we move fast enough,” Hrothgar rumbles, standing and hefting his axe onto his shoulder. His expression is firm, resolute. “We’ve got to stay ahead of him.”

“That’s assuming he’s working alone,” Veyron cuts in, spinning a dagger in his hand before sheathing it. His voice is calm, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “Not that he needs the help. He already wiped the floor with us on his own.”

I flinch slightly at the reminder, the image of his glowing blade cutting through the snow flashing through my mind. Veyron isn’t wrong. Even together, we barely managed to hold our own against him—and we didn’t even beat him, just stalled him.

“Doesn’t matter if he’s working alone or not,” I say firmly, gripping my bow. “We’re not stopping. The fortress is where the answers are, where Lyra might be. We have to get there before he does.”

Kaida groans, standing and adjusting her staff. “You’re way too optimistic sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s not optimism,” I reply, stepping toward the entrance of the cave. “It’s determination.”

Lorien moves to stand beside me, his spear steady in his hand. “We’ve made it this far,” he says quietly, his voice calm but strong. “We’ll make it the rest of the way too.”

“How many potions do we have, Kaida?” I ask as we step out into the biting cold. My voice carries over the crunch of snow beneath our boots as I glance back at her.

Kaida adjusts her pack, frowning as she rummages through it. “Let me see… We’ve got… three left,” she says, holding up the small vials of glowing liquid. “Not exactly enough for another run-in with Murder Knight, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Three?” Veyron snorts, shaking his head. “That’s barely enough for patching up a scratch each. If we have to fight again, we’re toast.”

“I’m aware,” I reply, my jaw tightening. “We’ll just have to be smarter about how we use them.”

Kaida tucks the potions back into her pack, her expression grim. “Smarter means no more fights like that. We were lucky to survive the last one.”

Hrothgar grunts, his eyes scanning the snowy path ahead. “Luck won’t save us a second time. We’ll need to avoid him altogether.”

“Easier said than done,” Lorien mutters, his voice quiet but steady. “He’s already ahead of us in strength, and he has to know where we’re going.”

I sigh, pulling my cloak tighter around me. “Then we move fast and avoid risks. We’ll ration what we have and keep our focus on reaching the fortress.”

Kaida raises an eyebrow. “And what happens if we run into more trouble before we get there? You’ve seen what this place throws at us.”

“Then we figure it out,” I say firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll make those potions last, no matter what.”

As we trudge through the snow, Kaida pipes up, her voice cutting through the quiet. “So far, we’ve been to two caves and two underground dungeons under the city. Think we’ll somehow end up doing two fortresses next?”

Her tone is half-joking, but there’s enough weariness behind it that I know she’s only partly trying to lighten the mood.

I glance back at her, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s not tempt fate, Kaida. One fortress is more than enough for me.”

“Yeah, well, knowing our luck, there’s probably another one hidden behind the first,” she says, her staff glowing faintly as she uses it to steady herself on the uneven path. “Or, I don’t know, maybe a secret dungeon underneath the fortress just waiting to swallow us whole.”

Veyron snorts. “Don’t give the game ideas. It seems to love messing with us enough as it is.”

Hrothgar grunts, his deep voice calm but firm. “Doesn’t matter how many fortresses or dungeons there are. We’ll deal with them the same way we’ve dealt with everything else.”

“With a lot of panicking and hoping we don’t die?” Kaida quips, her lips curling into a small smirk despite her obvious exhaustion.

“Pretty much,” Veyron replies with a shrug.

I shake my head, letting out a soft sigh. “Let’s just focus on getting to the first fortress before we start worrying about anything else. One step at a time.”

The glare of the snow reflecting the morning light is sharp and unrelenting, making me squint as we walk. The fog from the day before is gone, which is a relief, but now the brightness cuts through the cold air like a constant reminder of how exposed we are.

“How far are we again?” I ask, glancing over at Kaida as she adjusts her pack.

Kaida pulls out the map, the worn parchment fluttering slightly in the wind as she squints at it. “We’re close,” she says, tracing her finger along the winding paths. “If we keep up this pace, we should reach the fortress by nightfall.”

“Great,” Veyron mutters, kicking at a patch of snow. “One more day of freezing my ass off. Can’t wait.”

“Better than spending another night out in the open,” Lorien points out, his tone calm but firm. “At least we’ll have some walls around us.”

“Walls that probably want to kill us,” Kaida says with a half-smirk, tucking the map away again. “But sure, let’s call that progress.”

Hrothgar lets out a low grunt, his breath visible in the cold air. “Progress is progress. Let’s not waste time.”

I nod, pulling the sash tighter around me as I glance up at the towering peaks in the distance. The fortress feels so close, but with every step, the weight of what’s waiting for us grows heavier.

“We keep moving,” I say, glancing at the others. “No stopping unless we have to. The sooner we get there, the better.”

The group murmurs in agreement, and we press on, the crunch of snow beneath our boots the only sound.

If it weren’t for the snow everywhere and the uneven terrain, we’d probably make it in half the time. Every step feels like a fight, the icy ground either dragging at my boots or threatening to send me sliding. I get why Kaida hates mountains now. I really get it.

The cold doesn’t help. It sinks into my skin, sharp and unrelenting, and every gust of wind feels like it’s slicing right through me. God, I wish I still had that cloak. The sash Kaida gave me is better than nothing, but it doesn’t stop the biting chill from seeping into my bones.

I glance at Lorien, his cloak wrapped snugly around him. He catches me looking, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s about to offer it to me again, but I shake my head before he can say anything. He needs it more than I do, and I can’t keep relying on him like that.

We trudge on in silence for what feels like forever. The snow grows deeper in some places, forcing us to move slower as we navigate the uneven ground. The wind picks up occasionally, blowing flurries into our faces and making it hard to see.

After a while, Kaida groans, breaking the silence. “This is awful. I swear, if I ever get out of this game, I’m never setting foot near a mountain again. Ever.”

“No one’s making you climb anything,” Veyron quips, though his voice lacks its usual bite. “Besides, I think we’ve all had enough of the cold for one lifetime.”

Hrothgar lets out a grunt of agreement, his axe resting against his shoulder as he trudges ahead. “Just keep moving. Complaining won’t get us there any faster.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaida mutters, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck.

“Look,” Lorien says, his voice cutting through the tired silence. He raises his hand and points ahead, his tone laced with quiet excitement.

I turn toward where he’s pointing, squinting through the bright light reflecting off the snow. My heart skips as my gaze catches it—the top of the fortress, just barely visible, nestled between the jagged peaks of the mountains.

The structure is massive, its dark silhouette stark against the white snow and the dull gray of the rocky cliffs. Even from here, it looks imposing, its spires reaching high into the sky like jagged teeth.

“There it is,” I murmur, my breath fogging in the cold air.

Kaida moves up beside me, her staff glowing faintly as she peers ahead. “Finally,” she says, though her tone is a mix of relief and apprehension. “We’re close.”

Veyron whistles low, crossing his arms as he studies the distant structure. “Big place. Think they rolled out the red carpet for us?”

“More like traps and maybe another evil knight,” Hrothgar rumbles, his expression grim as he steps forward. “But at least we’re almost there.”

I nod, gripping my bow tighter as a wave of determination pushes back some of the exhaustion weighing on me. “We’ll rest when we’re inside. For now, let’s finish this climb.”

Lorien steps beside me, his presence steady and reassuring. “We’re close,” he says softly, his eyes meeting mine. “We can do this.”

I nod again, glancing back at the others. “Let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get answers.”

The group murmurs their agreement, and we press forward, the sight of the fortress in the distance driving us onward.

As the sun starts to set, the dim light fades faster than I expected, swallowed by the towering peaks around us. The cold grows sharper, biting into my skin with every step. I can’t help but regret not making more torches earlier, but the barren, snow-covered landscape offers no trees, no branches, nothing we could use to make one even if we wanted to.

The height of the mountains blocks most of the sun’s remaining light, leaving us with little to guide us. All we have is the faint glow of the dying sun and the soft, steady light from Kaida’s staff.

The cold is worse now, digging deep into my bones. Every breath I take feels sharp and heavy, visible in the frosty air. My fingers are numb, and I can barely feel my feet moving beneath me, but I force myself forward, keeping my eyes fixed on the faint silhouette of the fortress ahead.

Kaida shivers, pulling her scarf tighter around her face as she glances at me. “We should stop soon,” she says, her voice low but insistent. “If we keep going like this, we’ll freeze before we get there.”

“We’re too exposed out here,” Hrothgar rumbles, his breath coming out in thick clouds as he glances at the cliffs around us. “We need shelter. Even if it’s just a rocky overhang.”

Lorien steps closer to me, his cloak brushing against my side as he speaks. “We can’t risk slowing down too much, but they’re right—we can’t keep going like this for long.”

I nod, my teeth chattering slightly as I glance around. The landscape is harsh, unforgiving, and there’s no obvious shelter in sight. But the fortress is so close now, I can almost feel it.

“We’ll keep moving for now,” I say, my voice shaking slightly from the cold. “But if we don’t find anything soon, we’ll have to stop, no matter what.”

The others nod, and we press on, the dim glow from Kaida’s staff casting eerie shadows across the snow as the darkness deepens around us. Each step feels heavier, the cold and exhaustion dragging us down, but we have no choice.

We’re almost there. Just a little further.

The wind continues to pick up, howling through the mountain pass like a living thing, and even though it’s not snowing, it feels like a storm. The wind tears at the ground, whipping up loose snow and bombarding us with it in icy gusts. Each step forward feels like a battle against the elements, the snow stinging my face and forcing me to shield my eyes.

I can barely see the fortress anymore, the dark silhouette almost swallowed by the white haze surrounding us. My heart pounds as I push forward, my body screaming for warmth and relief, but I don’t stop.

“Keep moving!” I shout over the wind, my voice barely carrying to the others behind me.

Kaida’s light is the only thing keeping us from losing each other completely. Her staff glows faintly through the storm, guiding us step by step, but even that feels like it could disappear at any second.

The cold is unbearable now, my limbs almost numb despite the effort it takes to keep moving. The sash around me does nothing to stop the biting wind from tearing through me, and my breaths come out in short, sharp gasps, visible in the frigid air.

Then, finally, the massive, dark structure looms ahead of us, closer now than before. The jagged edges of the fortress rise like a shadow against the chaos of the storm, a dark promise of shelter—or danger.

“We made it,” Lorien says beside me, his voice strained but steady.

I nod, forcing myself to move faster, my legs burning as we approach the massive doors. The fortress towers above us, its walls solid and unyielding, carved into the mountain itself.

Kaida staggers slightly, her staff glowing brighter now as she looks up at the structure. “Please tell me those doors aren’t locked,” she mutters, her voice barely audible over the wind.

“We’ll get them open,” Hrothgar says firmly, his massive frame bracing against the wind as he moves toward the entrance.

I follow, my chest heaving as I glance back at the others. “Let’s get inside. Now.”

The storm rages on around us, but for the first time since we started this trek, the promise of shelter is within reach.

“I think I know,” I say, stepping closer to the massive doors and pointing at the center. The others gather behind me, peering at the distinct shape etched into the ancient wood and stone—a design of three triangles forming a larger one, with a fourth triangle filled in at the middle.

“It’s the same as the key,” I continue, reaching into my pack and pulling it out. The cold metal feels heavier in my hand now, as if it’s been waiting for this exact moment.

Kaida’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re right. That’s definitely it.”

“So, what?” Veyron asks, crossing his arms. “We just stick the key in and hope the door doesn’t explode?”

“It’s better than freezing out here,” Lorien says, his voice calm but firm.

I glance at the group, their faces lit faintly by Kaida’s staff and the glow of the storm swirling behind us. Hrothgar nods, his expression steady and encouraging, and I take a deep breath.

“Here goes nothing,” I murmur, stepping forward.

I press the key into the center of the design, aligning it perfectly with the triangular gaps. For a moment, nothing happens, and I feel the cold sinking deeper into my skin.

Then, a soft hum fills the air, and the runes carved around the door begin to glow faintly, pulsing with light that spreads outward in intricate patterns. The snow at our feet vibrates slightly, and a faint warmth radiates from the key as the light intensifies.

The ground trembles, and the massive doors groan as ancient mechanisms begin to shift and unlock. Snow falls from the edges as the doors slowly creak open, revealing a dark, yawning hallway beyond.

“Well,” Veyron says, his smirk returning as he steps forward. “Either that was a welcome mat, or we just woke something up.”

I swallow hard, gripping my bow tightly as I peer into the darkness. “No turning back now,” I say quietly.

As we step inside, the massive doors groan loudly before slamming shut behind us with a deafening thud. The sound echoes through the dark corridor ahead, the vibrations lingering in the air.

I glance back at the now-sealed entrance, my chest tightening as I realize there’s no visible mechanism to reopen it. “Well, that’s… comforting,” I mutter, stepping closer to inspect the seam where the doors meet. Nothing.

“At least we’re out of the cold,” Kaida says, letting out a breath that fogs faintly in the air. She rubs her arms, her staff still glowing faintly. “But yeah… I don’t think we’re getting those open again anytime soon.”

“Doesn’t look like they’re meant to open from the inside,” Hrothgar says, his deep voice rumbling as he scans the hallway ahead. “We’ll have to keep moving forward.”

“Of course,” Veyron mutters, his tone sharp but resigned. “A one-way trip. Because that’s not ominous at all.”

The faint light from Kaida’s staff reveals a long, stone corridor stretching ahead, its walls covered in worn carvings and glowing runes similar to the ones on the door. The air is heavy and slightly warmer than outside, but there’s a strange stillness to it, like the fortress itself is watching us.

I step forward cautiously, my bow in hand. “Let’s just focus on getting through this place,” I say, glancing back at the group. “We’ll deal with the rest later.”

Lorien moves to stand beside me, his spear at the ready. “Stay close,” he says quietly, his voice steady but low.

Kaida lifts her staff higher, the glow illuminating more of the hallway. “You think this place has traps?”

I glance at her, my stomach twisting slightly. “If it’s anything like the dungeons, I’d bet on it.”

She groans. “Great. Guess I’ll be walking on eggshells again.”

“Better eggshells than pressure plates,” Veyron says with a smirk, stepping lightly ahead to scout the path.

We press forward cautiously, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the dark, silent corridor.

“This should help a bit,” Kaida says, stepping forward and raising her staff. The glowing orb at its tip flares briefly before a spark of magic leaps from it, lighting one of the ancient torches lining the corridor.

The flame catches instantly, spreading quickly down the line as one torch after another bursts to life, their warm, golden light chasing away the oppressive darkness.

I blink as my eyes adjust, taking in the corridor now revealed in full. The walls are covered with intricate carvings—worn depictions of battles, strange symbols, and towering figures that seem to watch us as we move. The floor is smooth stone, but I can’t shake the feeling that some of the tiles look… off.

“Much better,” Veyron says, stepping closer to one of the walls and studying the carvings with a raised eyebrow. “Though it also makes this place feel a lot creepier now that we can actually see it.”

Kaida smirks, lowering her staff slightly. “Would you rather stumble around in the dark?”

“Depends. Less light means fewer chances to see something trying to kill us,” he replies with a shrug.

“Thanks for the optimism,” I mutter, scanning the corridor carefully.

Hrothgar grunts, his axe resting on his shoulder as he steps forward. “Keep your eyes open. This place isn’t abandoned—at least not entirely.”

“Let’s keep moving. The sooner we find whatever’s waiting for us here, the sooner we can figure out what to do next.”

The group falls into formation, the flickering torchlight casting long, shifting shadows across the walls as we move deeper into the fortress.

I glance at the carvings on the walls as we walk, the flickering torchlight casting shadows over the intricate designs. The figures etched into the stone seem almost alive, their faces frozen in expressions of battle, triumph, and something that looks like despair.

Why would we be sent here? I think, my eyes tracing one carving of a towering figure standing over a battlefield. Are these supposed to be a clue? Something to help us escape this game?

The carvings seem to tell a story, but the meaning is lost on me. They’re too fragmented, too worn down by time. Symbols I can’t read are scattered throughout, glowing faintly like the runes on the door, and I can’t shake the feeling that they’re significant.

Or maybe… maybe it’s not about us escaping at all.

Is Lyra somewhere in this place? The thought twists in my chest, heavy and painful. If she’s here, is she safe? Or is this place just another trap waiting to take one of us?

Kaida’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “These carvings… they’re almost like a history, don’t you think?” she says, running her fingers lightly over one of the walls.

“Whatever it is, it’s not random,” Lorien says, his eyes scanning the walls carefully. “There’s meaning here. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

Hrothgar steps ahead, his expression unreadable. “It’s not our job to understand the story. It’s our job to survive it.”

“Comforting,” Veyron mutters, though his gaze lingers on one carving—a figure surrounded by what looks like shadowy creatures. “Still, I don’t like how… familiar some of this looks.”

I shake my head, trying to focus. “Let’s just keep going. If these carvings are supposed to tell us something, maybe it’ll make more sense the deeper we go.”

The others nod, and we press forward. But as I glance back at the glowing symbols and worn faces on the walls, a feeling of unease settles over me.

What are you trying to tell us? I wonder, gripping my bow tighter. And why does it feel like we’re walking into something we can’t turn back from?

“Don’t expect the answers to be handed to you,” Shade’s voice cuts through my thoughts, smooth and laced with amusement.

“I wasn’t,” I think back sharply, though the truth is I was hoping for at least something to make sense. “But a clue wouldn’t hurt.”

“Clues are earned, not given,” Shade replies with a faint chuckle. “And if these walls are part of the puzzle, you’d better start paying closer attention. Time’s ticking, little archer.”

I grit my teeth, refusing to rise to his bait. My eyes flicker back to the carvings, their strange patterns and glowing runes swirling in the corners of my vision. It’s like they’re daring me to piece together their story, to understand why we’ve been dragged into this place.

“Then why don’t you tell me what they mean?” I think back, my tone edged with frustration.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Shade teases. “Besides, isn’t figuring it out half the point?”

“You don’t know, do you?” I think back at Shade, half expecting another smug retort or evasive answer.

“Hmmm,” he muses, his tone deliberate. “I know things you don’t, but nothing directly relevant to your escape from this world or this place. Other than…” He pauses, and I brace myself for something cryptic. “It was once a castle, not just a fortress. Likely with few residents, if any, still around.”

I blink, caught off guard by how… straightforward that was. “That was surprisingly helpful,” I think back, almost cautiously. “Usually, you’re way more cryptic. Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Shade replies, his tone slipping back into its usual teasing edge. “But I thought you could use a little nudge, given how painfully slow you are at piecing things together.”

I roll my eyes, but a small part of me can’t help but appreciate the information. A castle, not just a fortress. That means it was more than just a defensive stronghold—it might have housed someone important, someone powerful. The carvings on the walls could even be connected to whoever lived here.

As I process this, Lorien glances at me again, his brow furrowed slightly. “You’ve got that look,” he says quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just trying to figure this place out,” I murmur, gesturing to the carvings. “It’s not just a fortress. It used to be a castle. That has to mean something.”

Lorien nods, his expression thoughtful as he looks at the glowing runes. “If it was a castle, then someone—or something—wanted to preserve it. Maybe that’s why the runes are still active.”

“If it was a castle, maybe there’s, like, a historian here preserving it,” Kaida suggests, her tone hopeful but hesitant as she glances at the glowing carvings on the walls.

“Or,” Hrothgar interjects, his deep voice steady and grim, “there could be guards here protecting it. And whether they’re good or bad, they might see us as a threat to it.”

I grimace at that, my gaze flickering to the ancient symbols etched into the walls. The eerie glow of the runes doesn’t exactly scream “welcome,” and the possibility of guards—human or otherwise—sends a shiver down my spine.

“If there are guards, they’ll probably be stronger than anything we’ve dealt with before,” Lorien says, his voice quiet but firm.

“Great,” Veyron mutters, spinning his dagger idly in one hand. “Because nothing screams fun like accidentally ticking off centuries-old castle defenders.”

“Let’s just stay cautious,” I say, scanning the corridor ahead. “If there’s anyone—or anything—still here, we’ll deal with it when we have to. For now, let’s just focus on getting through this place.”

Kaida adjusts her staff, the faint glow illuminating the worn floor tiles as we press forward. “Do you think Lyra might’ve come here?” she asks, her voice quieter now. “If this is a castle, maybe she found something—someone—who could help her.”

The thought sends a pang through my chest. “Maybe,” I reply, though the uncertainty in my voice betrays me.

If Lyra’s here, why hasn’t she shown herself? I think, my stomach twisting. Is she hiding, or… something worse?

Hrothgar’s steady voice cuts through the silence. “Speculation won’t help us right now. Eyes open. We keep moving.”

As we continue forward, the corridor takes a sharp turn, and we find ourselves facing a series of doors on both sides of the hallway. The wood looks old but sturdy, with faintly glowing runes etched into the frames. Each door feels ominous in its own way, like whatever lies behind them has been waiting for centuries to be disturbed.

Kaida pauses, glancing at the doors warily. “So… one at a time?” she asks, her voice hesitant.

“Do we even need to open them?” Veyron mutters, eyeing the closest door suspiciously. “Because I’ve got a bad feeling about what’s behind door number one. And two. And probably all the rest.”

Hrothgar steps forward, his axe resting on his shoulder. “We’ll have to check at least some of them. Could be clues—or worse, something waiting to ambush us later.”

Lorien nods, his spear gripped tightly in his hand. “If we’re careful, we can clear them one at a time. But we shouldn’t split up. We’ll move together.”

“Safety in numbers,” Kaida mutters, though she doesn’t sound reassured as she tightens her grip on her staff.

I take a deep breath, stepping closer to the first door on the left. “We’ll start here,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Stay close. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

I glance back at the group, their faces lit faintly by the glowing runes. Lorien stands at my side, his presence steadying me as I reach for the door handle.

Let’s hope this doesn’t end badly, I think as I swing the door open, stepping back quickly with my bow raised, heart pounding as I brace for something to jump out. The others tense behind me, their weapons ready.

But nothing happens.

The room beyond is quiet—just an empty bedroom. The faint light from Kaida’s staff spills inside, revealing a surprisingly well-preserved space. A large, ornate bed sits against the far wall, its posts carved with intricate designs. A thick layer of dust covers everything, from the heavy wooden furniture to the worn rug on the stone floor.

“Well, that’s… anticlimactic,” Kaida says, peering over my shoulder.

Hrothgar steps closer, his axe lowered slightly as he glances inside. “At least it’s not full of traps or monsters.”

“Yet,” Veyron mutters, though his grip on his dagger relaxes. “But seriously, who leaves a bedroom this clean for centuries?”

I step inside cautiously, my eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. There’s a small desk in the corner, its surface cluttered with old, faded papers. A wardrobe stands to one side, its doors slightly ajar, revealing what looks like tattered clothing hanging inside.

“I wouldn’t call this clean,” Lorien says softly, his spear still in hand as he watches the room warily. “But it’s cleaner than you’d think if it’s been abandoned for a long time.”

I nod, moving toward the desk to get a closer look at the papers. Most of them are too faded to read, the ink smeared or completely gone, but there’s a faint symbol etched into one of the corners—a triangle, glowing faintly like the runes outside.

“This symbol…” I murmur, tracing it with my finger. “It matches the key.”

Kaida leans closer, frowning. “So this room might’ve belonged to someone tied to the key?”

“Or the castle itself,” I reply, glancing around the room again. “We should check the rest of the doors. There might be more clues.”

The others nod, and we step back out into the corridor, the door swinging shut behind us with a faint creak.

We go room to room, opening each door the same cautious way—me stepping back with my bow ready, everyone else bracing for the worst. But every time, it’s the same.

Another bedroom.

Each room has slight differences—a new layout, a different color scheme, furniture in slightly altered positions—but they all share the same eerie stillness. Beds with ornate, dust-covered frames, desks stacked with papers too faded to read, wardrobes full of tattered, forgotten clothing.

I walk into one of the rooms, trailing my fingers along the edge of the bed frame. Dust clings to my fingertips, and I hold them up to look at the fine layer coating them. What I wouldn’t give to rest in one of these fancy beds, I think, glancing at the plush, albeit dusty, mattress. Even if they’re not exactly the cleanest.

“They’re not so bad, huh?” Kaida says behind me, as if reading my mind. She leans her staff against the wall, her free hand brushing over the embroidered quilt draped across the bed. “If we weren’t in the middle of a death trap, I’d say we set up camp in here for the night.”

“Tempting,” Veyron says, peeking into the wardrobe and pulling out a moth-eaten robe. He holds it up, smirking. “Think I could pull this off?”

Kaida snorts, rolling her eyes. “Only if you’re trying to impersonate a ghost.”

“Focus,” Hrothgar says gruffly, though there’s no real bite to his words. He stands near the door, scanning the hallway for any signs of movement. “These rooms are empty now, but that doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way.”

I nod, pulling my hand back and wiping the dust off on my tunic. “We’ll keep moving. If somehow, by some miracle, this place is safe, we can always come back and rest,” I say softly, my eyes scanning the corridor ahead. “But let’s be honest—that’s highly unlikely.”

Kaida sighs, brushing her hair back as she glances over her shoulder. “At the very least, that knight can’t follow us in here, right? I mean, we had to use the key to get in.”

I hesitate, the image of the glowing key lodged in the door flashing through my mind. “Yeah, but it’s still in the door,” I say, my voice grim. “It’s possible he could just open it after us.”

Kaida’s face falls, and Lorien nods beside me, his expression serious. “We can’t assume we’re safe from him—or anything else in here. We need to stay sharp and be ready to deal with both.”

“Great,” Veyron mutters, flipping his dagger idly between his fingers. “As if this creepy castle wasn’t enough, we’ve got to worry about the Murder Knight crashing the party.”

“We’ll be ready,” Hrothgar says firmly, his voice steady as he adjusts his grip on his axe. “If he follows us, we’ll take him on here. The fortress might give us the advantage.”

I nod, though my chest tightens at the thought of fighting that knight again. “For now, we keep moving. If we can find a way to lock him out—or at least keep him from following too closely—we’ll take it.”

Kaida glances at me, her staff glowing faintly. “And if we can’t?”

“Then we make sure we’re ready,” I reply, gripping my bow tighter. “No surprises this time.”

After a few more bedrooms, all eerily similar in their slightly varied designs, we reach the end of the corridor. I let out a quiet sigh, glancing ahead to see our options.

To the side, another corridor stretches into the distance, lined with even more doors. The sight of them makes my stomach twist slightly—more bedrooms, most likely, or more of the same repetition we’ve been finding.

Straight ahead, a spiraling staircase winds upward, disappearing into the darkness above. The air feels heavier near the stairs, like whatever waits at the top is watching us, waiting for us to climb.

“Well, this is fun,” Kaida says, leaning slightly on her staff as she eyes the staircase warily. “More doors or a creepy staircase? Decisions, decisions.”

“I’m not sure how much more of these rooms we’re going to find useful,” Lorien says quietly, his spear resting at his side. “The bedrooms all feel… disconnected. Whatever we’re looking for, it’s not here.”

Veyron smirks, stepping toward the staircase and peering up into the shadowy void above. “The staircase screams ‘main event.’ My bet? That’s where the real fun is.”

“Or the real danger,” Hrothgar rumbles, his voice low but steady.

I glance between the corridor of doors and the staircase, my chest tightening. The bedrooms didn’t give us much, but if we skip the rest, will we miss something important? Or is the real answer waiting for us up those stairs?

I take a deep breath, turning to the group. “What do you think? Keep searching the rooms, or head up the staircase?”

The others exchange glances, and I can see the tension on their faces. Every choice in this place feels like a gamble, but we have to make one.

“Okay, I guess we head up,” I say, glancing toward the spiraling staircase. “If this really was a castle, the important stuff would be higher up, right?”

As the words leave my mouth, I can’t help but think, I don’t actually know how castles work.

“It’s kind of obvious,” Shade chimes in, his tone dripping with mockery. “Important things are always at the top. You don’t put the throne room or treasure vaults in the basement, genius.”

I roll my eyes, ignoring him as I gesture toward the stairs. “Let’s go. The bedrooms haven’t told us much, and we don’t have time to waste.”

The others nod, though I can feel the tension building as we approach the base of the staircase. The torchlight flickers against the stone steps, and Kaida’s staff casts long, twisting shadows that seem to ripple up the walls.

“You’re probably right,” Lorien says quietly, stepping beside me. “If there’s anything worth finding here, it’ll be up there.”

“I still don’t like how ominous this feels,” Kaida mutters, hugging her staff closer. “But fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Hrothgar leads the way, his axe resting on his shoulder as he ascends the stairs cautiously, one heavy footstep at a time. I follow close behind, my bow ready, with the others moving in a tight formation.

As we climb, the air grows heavier, colder, and quieter. The faint sounds of our footsteps echo in a way that makes the stairs feel endless, and every turn of the spiral feels like we’re being drawn further into something unknown.

I glance back at the others, the tension on their faces mirroring my own. When we reach the top we come across two corridors on either side.

“Alright, let’s go,” Lorien says, stepping forward with quiet confidence. Without hesitation, he chooses the left corridor, his spear held steady as he leads the way.

The rest of us fall in line behind him, our footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls as we move deeper into the castle. The faint torchlight illuminates more of the intricate carvings and runes etched into the walls, their glow faint but unrelenting.

“Confident pick,” Kaida mutters under her breath, her staff glowing faintly as she walks beside me. “Let’s hope you’re leading us to treasure and not traps.”

“Either way, it’ll be interesting,” Veyron says, smirking slightly as he spins a dagger between his fingers.

The air feels heavier here, the silence oppressive in a way that makes my chest tighten. The faint hum of the runes on the walls seems louder now, like they’re pulsing in time with something deeper within the castle.

Lorien glances back at me, his eyes meeting mine briefly. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

“Yeah,” I reply, though the unease creeping through me makes it hard to sound convincing. “Just… trying to figure this place out.”

He nods, offering a small, reassuring smile before turning back to the path ahead.

The corridor stretches on, and I can’t help but wonder where it’s leading us—and what waits at the end.

We continue for what feels like forever, moving through room after room, corridor after corridor, and floor after floor. Each new space offers something different, but nothing feels significant—just remnants of what this place used to be.

A gigantic kitchen, its counters covered in dust and its ovens cold and lifeless. A dungeon with rows of empty, rusted cells and shackles dangling from the walls. Storage rooms full of old supplies—wood, barrels, crates, and random odds and ends that have been untouched for who knows how long.

The monotony of it all weighs on us, the endless search sapping our energy and leaving an unsettling sense of futility in the air.

Finally, we reach another floor, and this one is… different.

The corridor stretches out before us, but it’s unlike the others. The stone walls are clean, polished, and lined with ornate wooden panels. The air feels warmer, heavier, almost regal, and the flickering torchlight reflects off the rich, dark wood.

Paintings and portraits line the walls on both sides, their frames gilded and well-preserved. Each one depicts a different person, their faces stern, proud, or hauntingly blank. Some wear elaborate armor, while others are dressed in regal robes, their gazes seeming to follow us as we walk.

“This is… different,” Kaida says softly, her eyes wide as she takes in the corridor.

“Feels like we’re finally getting somewhere,” Veyron mutters, though his tone is wary as his eyes dart between the paintings.

Hrothgar steps closer to one of the portraits, his brow furrowing. “These people… they must’ve been important. Whoever lived here, ruled here, they’re likely part of this.”

“Or they’re watching us,” Kaida whispers, shivering slightly as she hugs her staff.

The group moves cautiously, the weight of the corridor’s history pressing down on us as we approach whatever waits beyond it.

We turn down the corridor, and I find myself staring at the paintings, unable to tear my eyes away from the faces that line the walls. Queens, kings, knights, and others—all depicted in intricate detail, their gazes sharp and unyielding.

I can’t help but feel a spark of curiosity as I take it all in. What happened here? The castle below was seemingly abandoned, but it wasn’t destroyed or ransacked like you’d expect from an ancient place left to ruin. Everything feels untouched, preserved in a way that doesn’t make sense.

So where is everyone?

My thoughts spin as I take another glance at the polished floors and the spotless wood panels. The air feels… different here, too. It’s warm, almost alive, like the castle is breathing around us.

“There’s definitely someone up here,” I murmur, glancing at Lorien. “No way it stays this clean on its own—unless this game has cleaning magic.”

Kaida snorts softly behind me, though her voice is low and nervous. “Cleaning magic? At this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised. But seriously, someone’s been maintaining this place.”

“Or something,” Veyron mutters, his tone sharp as he peers at one of the portraits. “Because none of this feels normal. At all.”

Hrothgar grunts, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead. “Whatever it is, we’ll find it soon enough. Stay ready.”

The further we walk, the more uneasy I feel. The warmth of the corridor is unsettling, and the eyes in the paintings seem to follow us, their gazes heavy and watchful.

As we move further down the corridor, the faint sound of footsteps catches my attention. A few doors lie ahead, their ornate designs blending into the regal surroundings, but my focus is pulled to the noise.

Lorien raises his hand, signaling for us to stop. We all freeze, the silence between us heavy as I strain to listen.

The footsteps grow clearer, echoing softly through the hall, steady and deliberate. There’s a faint tap-tap-tap accompanying them, like the sound of a cane striking the polished floor.

I glance at Lorien, his grip tightening on his spear as his eyes dart toward the doors ahead. The others are equally tense—Kaida clutches her staff closer, her lips pressed into a thin line, while Hrothgar shifts slightly, his massive frame ready to react at a moment’s notice.

“Someone’s there,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I grip my bow tighter.

“Sounds like they’re walking with a cane,” Kaida murmurs, her gaze flickering between the doors. “But why would someone…?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” Veyron mutters, his voice low but sharp. “What matters is whether they’re a friend or another one of this place’s ‘obstacles.’”

The tapping and footsteps grow louder, heading toward us—or at least toward the doors ahead. My heart pounds in my chest, and I take a slow breath, trying to steady myself.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and almost yelp, my heart jumping into my throat. I turn quickly, seeing Veyron motioning for us to move into a nearby room. His expression is serious, all traces of his usual smirk gone.

I nod, swallowing hard as we quietly slip into one of the doors lining the corridor. The others follow, each moving as silently as possible, and I shut the door behind us, easing it closed with shaking hands just as the sound of the other door opening echoes down the hall.

The faint tapping of the cane is clearer now, along with slow, deliberate footsteps. Whoever—or whatever—it is has entered the corridor we just left, their movements steady but unhurried.

We huddle inside the room, the dim light from Kaida’s staff barely illuminating the space. It’s another bedroom, similar to the ones below but more ornate, with rich fabrics and polished furniture that reflect the faint glow.

I press my ear to the door, holding my breath as I listen. The footsteps continue, the cane tapping rhythmically against the floor, moving closer to where we were just standing.

“They’re looking for something,” I whisper, barely audible.

“Or someone,” Kaida mutters, her voice tight.

Hrothgar stands by the wall, his axe at the ready but held low to avoid making noise. Lorien positions himself beside the door, his spear gripped tightly, his gaze focused and calm despite the tension in the air.

Veyron leans against the far wall, his daggers in hand, his sharp eyes darting between the door and the rest of the room. “Let’s hope they don’t check in here,” he whispers, his tone low and steady.

“I’m thinking they must’ve noticed all the lights downstairs,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “Does someone want to sneak a peek at whoever it is?”

The second the words leave my mouth, everyone slowly turns to look at Veyron.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh, twirling one of his daggers between his fingers. “Of course me,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Because who else would it be?”

Without waiting for an answer, he moves silently to the door, his movements as smooth as ever. He eases it open just enough to peek out, his head darting out quickly before he slips back inside, shutting the door with the same practiced quiet.

“It’s an old guy,” he says, straightening up. “In robes. Like, full-on wizard-y looking robes. And yeah, he’s got a cane like we thought.”

Kaida frowns, glancing at me. “An old guy? What’s an old man doing walking around a place like this?”

“Maybe he lives here,” Hrothgar says quietly, his grip on his axe loosening slightly. “Could be a caretaker, or…”

“Or he’s not as harmless as he looks,” Lorien says, his tone calm but edged with caution.

Veyron shrugs, leaning back against the wall. “I mean, he doesn’t look like much of a threat, but this place hasn’t exactly been kind to us so far. For all we know, he could be the mastermind behind all of this.”

“Or a trap,” I mutter, gripping my bow tightly.

Kaida shifts, her staff glowing faintly as she glances between us. “So, what do we do? Sit here and wait him out? Or talk to him?”

“We could jump him,” Veyron says with a shrug, his tone casual, as if he’s suggesting something completely reasonable.

The room falls silent as we all turn to him, our expressions somewhere between disbelief and exasperation.

“What?” he says defensively, holding his hands up. “It’s a valid option!”

Kaida rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Of course you’d suggest that.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Veyron continues, smirking slightly. “If he’s not a threat, no harm done. If he is a threat, better to take him out before he tries to take us out.”

“Or,” Lorien interjects calmly, his voice firm, “we could try not attacking an old man with a cane before we know who—or what—he is.”

“Agreed,” Hrothgar rumbles, his expression serious. “We don’t know enough yet. If we attack and he’s not a threat, we could make things worse for ourselves.”

I glance at Veyron, shaking my head. “We’re not jumping him.”

“Fine, fine,” Veyron mutters, rolling his eyes. “But if he turns out to be some evil wizard or something, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Kaida snorts softly. “Yeah, we’ll be sure to put that on your gravestone.”

I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple as I try to think. “We’ll wait a little longer, see if he moves on. If not… we’ll figure something out.”

The others nod, though the tension in the room remains thick. As we wait, the faint tapping of the cane still echoing outside, I glance around the room, trying to distract myself from the tension pressing down on us.

It’s clear this room was meant for someone more important than the others we’ve seen on the lower floors. The bed is massive, at least double the size of the ones downstairs, and the headboard is carved with intricate designs, the edges inlaid with what looks like gold.

The furniture scattered around the room is equally elaborate—a grand vanity with a polished mirror, an ornate wardrobe with gilded handles, and a writing desk lined with delicate carvings of what appear to be scenes of battles and triumphs. Even the curtains draped over the windows are heavy and embroidered, their deep red color still vibrant despite the dust settling on them.

“This room belonged to someone powerful,” I murmur, running my fingers lightly over the edge of the desk.

“Maybe royalty,” Kaida says softly, following my gaze as she looks at the bed. “Or at least someone high-ranking.”

“Whoever they were, they had expensive taste,” Veyron quips, his smirk returning as he picks up a small, gold-inlaid trinket from a shelf. “Bet this alone would’ve cost a fortune.”

“Put that back,” Hrothgar growls quietly, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t need to be stealing things we don’t understand.”

Veyron shrugs, setting it down with exaggerated care. “Just admiring the craftsmanship.”

Lorien steps closer to me, his gaze moving over the room. “If this room belonged to someone important, they might’ve left something useful behind. A journal, letters, anything that could explain what this place is.”

I nod, glancing at the desk again. “It’s worth checking.”

But as I move toward it, the tapping outside stops.

My heart skips, and I freeze, my hand tightening on my bow. The silence is deafening, and I can feel everyone else tense around me.

“Why did they stop?” Kaida whispers, her voice barely audible.

No one answers. We’re all waiting, holding our breath, as the silence stretches on.

The door handle starts to move.

“Quick hide!” I whisper shout.

“Hello?” a frail voice calls out, soft and uncertain.

The old man pulls back his hood, revealing a face lined with deep wrinkles and a pair of cloudy, unfocused eyes. His hair is thin and white, and there’s a faint tremor to his hands as he leans on the polished cane.

He turns his head slowly, scanning the room, but it’s clear his eyesight isn’t good. For a moment, he looks right at me and Lorien, his gaze lingering as my heart stops. I hold my breath, my body tensing as I wait for him to react.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he continues looking around the room, his head tilting slightly as though he’s listening for something.

“Is someone there?” he asks, his voice trembling but steady enough to carry a weight of authority. “I can sense you… You’ve come far to be here.”

I glance at Lorien, his grip on his spear tightening as he looks back at me, his expression cautious. Does he know? I think, my mind racing. Or is he just guessing?

The old man takes a slow step forward, his cane tapping softly against the floor. “If you mean no harm, there’s no need to hide,” he says, his tone almost gentle. “But if you do… you’ll regret it.”

His words send a chill through me, and I glance at the others, still hidden around the room. No one moves, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

Lorien nudges me lightly, his elbow brushing against my arm. I glance at him, and the question is clear in his eyes: Should we reveal ourselves?

I let out a quiet sigh, my heart still pounding, and nod reluctantly. Might as well. If he knows we’re here, hiding won’t help.

Lorien stands first, slowly and carefully, his spear lowered to show he doesn’t mean harm. I follow his lead, rising from behind the desk with my bow held low but ready, just in case.

The old man turns his head slightly at the sound, his milky eyes narrowing as he seems to focus in on us. “Ah,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and weariness. “There you are.”

“We’re not here to cause trouble,” I say quickly, my voice steady but quiet. “We’re just… trying to figure out what this place is.”

The man tilts his head, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he takes a step closer. “You’ve come far,” he says again, his tone thoughtful. “Farther than most.”

Lorien shifts slightly beside me, his body tense but his tone calm. “We didn’t mean to intrude. Who are you?”

The old man’s lips curl into a faint smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Who am I?” he repeats softly, almost to himself. “I am… a caretaker, of sorts. A steward of this place and its history. And you… you do not belong here.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, but I hold my ground, glancing briefly at the others still hidden in the room. What does he mean by that?

As the others slowly step out of their hiding spots—Kaida from behind the wardrobe, Veyron slipping out of the shadows, and Hrothgar rising from behind the bed—the air in the room seems to shift.

Without warning, the lantern hanging in the center of the room flickers to life, its warm glow spreading across the space. The sudden light startles me, and I take a small step back.

“Wha—?” I begin, my voice barely a whisper.

The old man doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, his faint smile grows as he turns his head slightly, as if sensing the change in the room. “Ah,” he murmurs softly. “This place recognizes you as well. It knows you are here.”

Kaida tightens her grip on her staff, her eyes wide as she glances at the lantern and then back at him. “What do you mean it recognizes us?” she asks, her voice tinged with unease.

The man taps his cane lightly on the floor, the sound echoing faintly. “The castle has its ways,” he says cryptically. “It is aware of those who step within its walls—aware of your intentions, your fears, your… purpose.”

“Great,” Veyron mutters under his breath, his tone sharp. “So, the creepy building is alive now?”

The old man chuckles softly, the sound dry and raspy. “Alive is… one way to put it,” he says. “It watches. It waits. And it remembers.”

I exchange a glance with Lorien, my chest tightening as I try to process his words. “Why are you here?” I ask cautiously, gripping my bow a little tighter. “What’s your role in all of this?”

The man’s smile fades slightly, and for a moment, a shadow seems to pass over his face. “I am here because I must be,” he says quietly. “Because this place cannot be left untended. Not now. Not after what happened.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, and I feel the tension in the room grow thicker.

“What happened?” Hrothgar asks, his voice steady but firm.

The old man tilts his head again, his cloudy eyes narrowing. “That,” he says, his tone cryptic once more, “is a story best told carefully… if at all.”

“Why have you come here?” the old man asks, his voice soft but carrying an undeniable weight. His cloudy eyes seem to focus on me, though I know he can’t actually see.

I hesitate for a moment, glancing at the others before replying. “We don’t really know,” I admit, lowering my bow slightly. “We found a key… and it opened the door to this place.”

The man tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “A key, you say?” he murmurs, his cane tapping softly against the floor as he takes a slow step closer. “And yet, you entered without knowing where it would lead… or why.”

Kaida shifts uneasily beside me, her staff glowing faintly in the dim light. “We were told it would lead to answers,” she says. “About this world, about why we’re here. And maybe… maybe it could help us find someone we lost.”

The old man’s lips press into a thin line, his expression darkening. “Answers,” he repeats quietly. “Yes, this place is full of answers. But they are not always the ones you wish to find.”

I swallow hard, my chest tightening at his words. “What does that mean?” I ask cautiously. “What answers are here?”

He turns his head toward me, his cloudy eyes seeming to pierce through the air. “That depends,” he says slowly, his voice heavy with meaning. “What questions are you truly asking?”

The room falls silent, the flickering light from the lantern casting long shadows on the walls. I feel the weight of his question pressing down on me, but I’m not sure how to answer. What are we asking? Why we’re here? How to escape? Where Lyra is?

All of those questions swirl in my mind, and for a moment, I don’t know which one matters most.

“Come,” the old man says, turning slowly toward the door. His frail voice carries a surprising authority. “I may be the castle’s caretaker, but I am not as young as I used to be. I need to sit.”

He taps his cane against the floor as he begins to walk, his steps slow but deliberate. The echo of the cane striking the polished stone fills the room as he moves toward the door.

I glance at Lorien, then at the others. Kaida’s brow furrows in uncertainty, while Veyron’s hand hovers near the hilt of one of his daggers, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“Do we follow him?” Kaida whispers, her tone tinged with unease.

“What choice do we have?” Lorien murmurs back, his voice calm but firm. “If he knows something about this place, we can’t afford not to hear him out.”

Hrothgar nods, stepping toward the door with his axe still at the ready. “Keep your guard up,” he says quietly. “He’s leading us somewhere for a reason.”

I tighten my grip on my bow, my heart pounding as I follow the old man into the hallway. The flickering torchlight casts long shadows across his figure as he moves slowly but steadily, his cane tapping with each step.

The corridor feels even more ominous now, the weight of the castle’s history pressing down on us with every step. I can’t shake the feeling that the air itself is watching us, waiting for something to happen.

The old man doesn’t look back as he leads us deeper into the castle. “You’ve stepped into a place few ever reach,” he says softly, his voice echoing faintly. “Be sure you’re ready for the answers you seek… for they may not be what you hope to find.”

Not what you hope to find… The old man’s words echo in my mind, heavy and unsettling. Is he saying we can’t escape?

The thought sends a chill down my spine, colder than the mountain air outside. I glance at the others, but no one speaks. Their faces are tense, their expressions mirroring the unease building inside me.

Shade’s voice hums softly in my mind, his tone almost mocking. “He’s saying you may not like the truth. But you already knew that, didn’t you? Escaping isn’t as simple as finding the right key or door—it never was.”

“Shut up,” I think back sharply, though the knot in my stomach tightens at his words.

The old man continues walking, his cane tapping rhythmically against the stone floor. “What you seek,” he says, his voice faint but deliberate, “is deeper than escape. You came here for freedom, yes—but freedom from what? From this place? Or from something else?”

My steps falter slightly as his words sink in. What does he mean? What else would we need freedom from?

Kaida glances at me, her expression troubled. “What’s he talking about?” she whispers under her breath.

“I don’t know,” I reply softly, my voice shaking slightly. “But we’ll find out soon enough.”

The old man leads us to a wide, open chamber ahead, its walls lined with ancient tapestries and glowing runes. In the center of the room is a large, worn chair—more a throne than a simple seat. He moves toward it slowly, lowering himself into it with a weary sigh.

He rests both hands on his cane, his cloudy eyes lifting toward us. “Now,” he says, his voice steady despite his frail appearance, “tell me… why you believe you are here.”

I glance at the others, my chest tightening as the weight of his question settles over us.

“We don’t know why we got put here,” I say, my voice steady but strained as I meet the old man’s cloudy gaze. “In this game—or, well, this world—whatever it is.”

He tilts his head slightly, his frail hands resting on the top of his cane. “Go on,” he says softly, his tone neither pressing nor dismissive, but carrying a weight that makes it impossible to ignore.

I take a breath, my fingers tightening on my bow as I speak. “I got sent a game early. Like, before release. It came out of nowhere. No explanation, no instructions. I logged in to try it out, and then…” I pause, swallowing hard. “I woke up here.”

The old man listens intently, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t interrupt, but something in his posture shifts, as though my words resonate with him.

Kaida steps forward slightly, her staff glowing faintly. “It was the same for us,” she says. “We didn’t log in together, but… we all woke up here. No warning. No explanation.”

“It’s not just a game,” Hrothgar rumbles, his deep voice steady but laced with tension. “Whatever this place is, it’s more than that.”

“Feels like a prison,” Veyron mutters, crossing his arms as his sharp eyes scan the room. “Except we don’t even know what we did to end up in it.”

The old man leans back slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the head of his cane. “You were chosen,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an air of finality. “Whether by fate, by design, or by accident… you were brought here for a purpose.”

Lorien shifts beside me, his spear resting at his side. “What purpose?” he asks, his voice calm but firm. “What are we supposed to do? How do we get out?”

The man is silent for a long moment, his gaze turning downward as if lost in thought. Finally, he speaks, his tone heavy.

“The answers you seek lie in the heart of this castle,” he says. “But to find them… you must be prepared to face the truth.”

I frown, my chest tightening. “What truth?”

The old man’s gaze lifts again, his cloudy eyes piercing despite their haze. “The truth of who you are. Of why you were brought here. And of what you are willing to sacrifice… to leave.”

“What about our friend?” I ask, leaning forward slightly, my voice tinged with urgency. “Lyra—she disappeared after we found some sort of… giant heart. Someone told us it was connected to this world. It absorbed her, or… or maybe she absorbed it? I don’t even know, but she’s gone.”

The old man tilts his head, his expression growing thoughtful as he rests his hands on his cane. His cloudy eyes shift slightly, as though searching for something unseen.

“A heart, you say,” he murmurs, his voice low and deliberate. “And it… took her.”

I nod quickly, gripping the edge of my chair. “Yes. She disappeared right in front of us. We were told it was tied to this world—like a part of its core or something. Do you know what it is? Or… what happened to her?”

The man is silent for a long moment, the firelight flickering across his face as he considers my words. Finally, he sighs deeply.

“The heart you speak of… is no ordinary object,” he says quietly. “It is a fragment of this world itself, a piece of its essence, it’s heart. To encounter it is rare, and to survive such an encounter…” He trails off, his expression grim.

“What does that mean?” Lorien asks, his tone steady but tense.

The old man’s gaze turns toward us, his voice heavy with meaning. “Your friend has become something… more. She is no longer bound by the same rules as the rest of you.”

Kaida stiffens, her eyes wide. “So she’s alive?”

“Alive,” the man echoes softly. “But changed. To absorb a fragment of this world is to bind oneself to it… to become a part of its very fabric.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, and I glance at the others, their faces reflecting the same mix of shock and confusion I feel.

“So she’s part of the game now?” Veyron asks, his voice sharp with disbelief. “What does that even mean? Is she stuck here forever?”

The old man leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “Her fate is tied to this world now,” he says. “Whether she remains here… or finds a way to transcend it, depends on her—and on you.”

“Transcended,” I repeat, the word sticking in my mind like a thorn. “Just like the menu showed… it said she transcended. Does that mean she’s back in our world? Or just… another part of this one?”

The old man’s cloudy eyes narrow slightly as he leans forward, resting more of his weight on his cane. “To transcend is to become something else,” he says slowly, his voice low and deliberate. “Something greater. She is still in this world, likely… but where, I cannot say.”

His words send a chill through me, but he continues before I can speak. “If this heart has joined with her,” he says, his tone heavy with meaning, “then she will be more powerful than most. But that power comes at a cost.”

“What cost?” Lorien asks, his voice steady but tense.

The old man turns his gaze toward him. “Power like that does not go unnoticed. If she has become bound to the heart’s essence, she will likely be seen as a target by those who seek to claim it for themselves.”

Kaida’s face pales as she grips her staff tighter. “So she’s alive, but she’s out there somewhere… and she’s being hunted?”

“Likely,” the old man says with a faint nod. “The heart is tied to this world’s core. To possess it is to hold a piece of its very existence. Many would kill to claim such a prize if able.”

I feel my chest tighten, my fists clenching. Lyra… wherever you are, you’re in even more danger than we thought.

“So what do we do?” Veyron says, his voice sharp as he crosses his arms. “How do we find her? Protect her?”

The man’s gaze drifts back to the fire. “That,” he says quietly, “depends on whether you are ready to face what lies ahead. The answers you seek may guide you to her… or they may reveal truths you are not prepared to bear.”

“You said the answers we seek are here,” I say, my voice firm as I lean forward in my chair. “How do we find them?”

The old man tilts his head slightly, his cloudy eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. He rests both hands on his cane, his grip tightening as though steadying himself for what he’s about to say.

“The answers lie within the heart of this castle,” he replies, his voice low and deliberate. “But finding them will not be a simple matter. This place was built to protect its truths, to guard them against those who are unworthy.”

Kaida frowns, clutching her staff. “Unworthy? What does that mean?”

The man’s gaze shifts toward her, his expression unreadable. “It means the castle itself will judge you,” he says softly. “It will test your resolve, your strength, and your will to uncover what you seek.”

Hrothgar grunts, his brow furrowed as he leans on his axe. “Tests, trials… we’ve faced those before. This place can’t throw anything worse at us than we’ve already seen.”

The old man’s faint smile is almost pitying. “You may find that this place knows you better than you know yourselves,” he says cryptically. “It will not simply challenge your bodies, but your hearts, your minds… and your truths.”

I glance at Lorien, his expression calm but tense, and then back to the old man. “So we just keep moving forward?” I ask. “Through this castle, floor by floor, until we reach the heart of it?”

The old man nods slowly. “Yes,” he says. “But be warned. Each step closer to the heart of the castle will strip away the layers of who you think you are. The truth you uncover may not be the one you hope to find.”

Veyron snorts, leaning against the piano with his arms crossed. “Well, that’s vague and ominous. Thanks for the pep talk, old man.”

Kaida shoots him a look but doesn’t say anything. I tighten my grip on my bow, my mind racing. Tests, trials, truths… whatever this place throws at us, we’ll face it. We don’t have a choice.

“Is there anything else we should know before we move on?” I ask, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest.

The old man leans back in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the fire. “Only this,” he says quietly. “You cannot escape this place unchanged. Whether you succeed or fail… the person you are now will not be the same as the one who leaves.”

“Last question,” I say, turning back to the old man, my voice tense. “There was a knight following us. He said he needed to kill others like us to escape this world. Can he get in here?”

The old man’s expression darkens slightly, his hands tightening around his cane. “The knight,” he murmurs, as if the mention of him stirs something deep in his memory. He leans back in his chair, his cloudy eyes narrowing. “Yes, I know of him.”

My heart sinks at his words. “So he can get in?”

The man hesitates, his gaze shifting toward the fire as though searching for the right words. “The knight is bound by his own rules, as you are by yours,” he says carefully. “The doors of this castle opened to you because of the key. Unless he possesses a similar key—or another means of entry—he cannot enter as you did.”

Kaida lets out a shaky breath. “So… he’s locked out?”

“For now,” the man replies, his tone heavy with caution. “But the knight is… determined. And this castle has its own ways of bending to those who seek it with enough persistence. If he desires to enter badly enough, he may find a way.”

Veyron groans, running a hand through his hair. “So, basically, he might find a way in, but we have no clue if or when? That’s comforting.”

The old man’s faint smile returns, though it carries no warmth. “The knight is a dangerous force, but do not let him consume your thoughts. Your trials within this castle will be far greater than what waits outside.”

Hrothgar steps forward, his expression calm but resolute. “If he gets in, we’ll deal with him. But until then, we focus on what’s ahead.”

I nod slowly, gripping my bow tighter. “Right. One thing at a time.”

The old man watches us for a moment longer, then gestures toward the door. “Then go,” he says softly. “The castle is waiting.”

As we leave the room and step back into the corridor, the flickering light of the torches guiding our way, I can’t help but feel uneasy. My thoughts drift back to the old man, the weight of his words lingering in my mind.

How does he know about the knight? I wonder, gripping my bow tightly as we walk. If he’s been here in this castle for who knows how long, how could he know about someone who’s been chasing us out there?

The thought twists in my chest, unease settling deep in my gut. He didn’t just know about the knight—he seemed to know us, too. The way he spoke, the things he said… it felt like he already understood more about us than we understood about ourselves.

“Artemis?” Lorien’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance at him. His eyes are steady, his expression calm, but there’s concern in his voice. “You’re quiet. What’s on your mind?”

I hesitate, glancing ahead at the others. Kaida is muttering to herself about “magic castles” and “cryptic old men,” while Veyron walks silently with his daggers in hand, scanning the shadows. Hrothgar’s broad frame is steady as ever, leading the way with his axe resting on his shoulder.

“I’m just… thinking about what he said,” I reply softly, keeping my voice low so only Lorien can hear. “He knew about the knight. And… I think he knew a lot more about us than he let on.”

Lorien frowns slightly, his hand brushing mine briefly in reassurance. “You think he’s hiding something?”

“Maybe,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “Or maybe this castle… or whatever runs it… is telling him things. Either way, it feels like he knew too much.”

Lorien nods, his brow furrowing as he glances ahead. “Whatever he knows, he didn’t seem hostile. But you’re right—we should be careful.”

I nod, my chest tightening as I glance back toward the direction of the room we just left. Who are you, really? And what else do you know about us that you didn’t say?