The steady clop of the wargon's hooves slowed as the dense trees finally gave way to a small clearing. The moon hung low, veiled behind thin mist, and ahead, half-hidden by jagged rocks and thick overgrowth, loomed the mouth of a cave. It wasn't large, but it was enough.
Luke tugged the reins gently, bringing the beast to a halt. He was pale, dirt streaked his face, and dark circles clung stubbornly under his eyes — but there was a sharp glint of control in them, like a man running on sheer will.
He slid off the beast's back, landing with a soft thud.
"Alright — off the wargon," he called, voice low but firm. "We'll stay here tonight."
He glanced toward the others, exhaustion plain on their faces. Liora's movements were sluggish, her pale skin nearly matching the cave stone, and Vivy's hands still trembled as she gripped the edge of the wagon.
"But," Luke added, adjusting the sword at his side, "I need your help. You three, clear the cave out. Make it decent enough for sleep. I'll go cut down some trees, block the entrance, keep the worst of the beasts out."
Kairo let out a ragged breath, then gave a tired but determined nod."We'll get it done as fast as we can. Just—get back quick, alright?"
Luke allowed himself a crooked little smile."I will." He turned, rolling his sore shoulders, and started toward the treeline, axe strapped to his back, vanishing into the woods without another word.
Kairo groaned quietly as he stepped down, his boots hitting the earth. Every part of him hurt. His arms were stiff from the constant fighting, his back ached from the uneven ride, and his head was pounding—not just from exhaustion, but from the dagger's lingering whispers.
"Fucking voices…" he muttered under his breath.
The wargon snorted softly, its flank heaving with steady breaths. Its big, patient eyes met his, and for a moment, Kairo felt a strange sense of gratitude for the beast.
He gently gripped the harness and murmured,"Alright, big guy. Let's get you and the wagon inside."
The wargon obeyed without protest, though Kairo's muscles protested every step as he led it carefully into the cave. The inside was damp and smelled of old stone and earth, but it was mercifully dry. Pebbles crunched underfoot, and the air was cool, a reprieve from the heavy, humid night.
Behind him, Liora and Vivy slid down from the wagon.Vivy wobbled as she landed, steadying herself against the wagon's side, then wiped at her mouth with a shaky hand. Her book clutched tight to her chest.
"I'll… I'll get the fire started," Vivy murmured, her voice a thin thread of sound.
Liora nodded, her expression drawn and tired, but calm."I'll clear the ground. Make room for the beds."
Kairo gave a weak grin."Look at us. Real survivalists, huh?"
Vivy huffed a weak laugh."I don't know about real, but… we're still breathing."
"Barely," Kairo muttered, then turned his attention back to guiding the wargon further in, settling it near the back where the stone walls curved protectively around them. He carefully removed its harness and loosened the wagon's ties. The beast exhaled a deep, grateful snort and lowered itself to rest, its thick body blocking one side of the cave naturally.
Meanwhile, Liora got to work. She moved like a ghost — quiet, pale, yet graceful in her exhaustion. She gathered fallen branches, tossed aside loose stones, and made a clearing near the center of the cave for them to lie down.
Her hands trembled once or twice, but she kept going.
Vivy knelt nearby, struggling to light the small campfire. Her fingers fumbled the flint and steel.
"Come on… come on…" she hissed.
Kairo came over, crouching beside her, watching the sparks leap and die."Need a hand?"
She didn't look up, just shook her head stubbornly."I've got it."
Kairo smirked a little, though his face softened."You're shaking, Vivy."
She bit her lip, struck the flint again — this time a spark caught on the dry moss and small twigs.A flicker of flame.A hint of warmth.
"See?" she whispered, and for a brief moment, there was a gleam of pride in her teary eyes.
Kairo grinned, giving her shoulder a light squeeze."Good work."
They gathered what supplies they had — thin blankets, a few strips of dried meat, and a canteen of water. The meager fire pushed the shadows back just enough to make the cave feel less like a tomb.
As the light danced over stone walls, Kairo glanced toward the cave mouth. Still no sign of Luke.
Hope the idiot's alright.
He sighed, sitting heavily beside Liora, who was leaning back against the wall, her eyes half-closed.Her skin was pale as snow, faint scratches marking her arms and cheek.
"Hey," Kairo said softly. "You holding up?"
Liora opened one eye."I'm… alive."A thin smile. "For now."
He chuckled weakly."Good enough."
Vivy sat across from them, warming her hands by the flame."We're all a mess, huh."
Kairo snorted."Yeah. A fine mess."
The sound of branches breaking outside made them all tense for a moment — until Luke's voice called from the darkness.
"It's me."
Relief washed through the group as Luke stepped into the flickering light. He was carrying thick branches and rough logs, dragging them behind him.
"Got enough to block the entrance," he said, dropping them down with a grunt.
Kairo grinned, standing up."Good. Let's seal ourselves in before anything out there gets curious."
As they worked together to stack the branches across the entrance, layering them with stones and broken limbs, something unspoken settled between them — a fragile, exhausted unity.
They were still here.Still alive.And for tonight, they had a shelter.
The fire crackled.
Kairo wiped sweat and grime from his face, the dagger now resting at his side, mercifully silent for now.
Luke sat down by the fire last, rolling his stiff shoulder."Good work, everyone."
"Same to you," Kairo said.
The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering against the rough stone walls of the cave. The weight of exhaustion hung heavy over them, but Luke, sitting cross-legged beside the flames, finally broke the silence.
"I drew up some routes to get us out of here."His voice was low, steady, but there was a hint of strain beneath it. He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and made his way over to the wargon resting at the back of the cave. His hand reached into the pouch slung over the beast's side, and he pulled out the folded, weathered map.
Kairo, Vivy, and Liora sat up a little straighter as Luke spread the map across a flat rock near the fire, smoothing it out with calloused fingers. The old parchment was marked with faded lines, symbols, and hand-drawn notes scribbled in ink long faded by time.
Luke tapped his finger against a spot near the center."This—this is where we are now. Right here by the ridge caves, west side of the old marsh."
His finger traced a careful line along a narrow, winding path."If we choose this route, stick to the ground trails, we can make it out in about three weeks. It follows the old merchant paths and animal tracks. Safer, but longer."
He paused, then slid his finger to another route — a jagged, broken line that cut through a murky area marked The Dead Swamps, and then curved sharply through a passage marked with faded symbols."Or—" he continued, "we can cut through the swamp, and through this old cave system here. If everything is the same as it was five years ago when they last mapped this place… we could get out in a week."
His hand fell away from the map, and for a moment only the crackle of the fire filled the cave.
Kairo frowned, his brow creasing deeply as he processed the options.'A week… if nothing's changed… But when does anything in a place like this stay the same?'He bit the inside of his cheek, gaze locked on the map.
Vivy was the first to speak."What's your opinion, Luke?"She looked up at him, voice small but clear.
Luke let out a slow breath, his hand resting on his knee."My opinion?" he echoed, then pointed to the safer path again."We take this one. The long ground route. Yeah, it's slower, but it's more stable. Less risk of getting swallowed by the swamp or lost in some goddamned cave collapse."He glanced up, meeting each of their eyes in turn."We've barely made it this far. I'm not gonna gamble everything now."
Liora had been watching them silently, her pale face ghostly in the firelight, eyes distant, thoughtful. But now she spoke up, her voice soft, breaking the tension."What if we send a signal for help? Back to the safe path…?"
Vivy's head snapped toward her, surprised.Even Kairo jerked his gaze away from the map, blinking as if he hadn't considered that idea at all.Luke, too, stilled — though a faint, unexpected smile tugged at his lips.
But it didn't last.
The smile faded as quickly as it came, and he gave a weary shake of his head."You see… the signals work."His voice had a bitter, hollow edge now."But only if there's soldiers from the capital nearby. No one else would care. The people out here—they're just trying to stay alive. If we're in bad enough shape to fire off a flare… who's gonna risk their lives to charge into the same danger just for us?"
His words hung in the air like heavy stones.Vivy lowered her gaze.Kairo said nothing, his jaw tight.Even Liora's hopeful expression flickered, dimmed by the weight of that truth.
Luke watched them a moment longer, then his eyes shifted to the flare tucked into his own pocket.It gleamed faintly in the firelight — a last, desperate thing he'd held onto without much hope.He sighed, brushing a hand through his sweat-matted hair.
"Look… if none of you want to disagree with me," he said, a little softer now, "then I guess we stick to that route. The ground trail."His gaze lingered on each of them."Right?"
Kairo was the first to nod."Yeah… makes sense. Safer's better than dead."
Vivy gave a small, reluctant nod as well."Alright… the ground trail."
Liora hesitated, her tired eyes flickering between them. Then she nodded too, quietly."Okay."
Luke let out a breath, almost a sigh of relief."Good. Then it's settled."
The four of them exchanged faint, exhausted smiles, if only because making a decision at all felt like something solid beneath their feet for once.
"Goodnight, then," Kairo said, his voice hoarse as he stood and stretched, wincing."We'll need every bit of rest we can get."
"Night," Vivy murmured, curling up by the fire with her book clutched to her chest, though her hands were still trembling.
"Goodnight," Liora echoed, settling onto her blanket near the wargon, closing her pale eyes, her breathing soft and ragged.
Luke took the last watch by the fire, his eyes lingering on the flickering flame, the map still spread before him — and the faint glint of the flare resting by his side.
Three weeks… or one week, if we're willing to risk it. If only… He pushed the thought aside, letting the crackle of the fire lull him into a half-aware state, ready for whatever darkness might come next.
And slowly, one by one, they slipped into uneasy, dreamless sleep.
Kairo's eyes fluttered open.
For a long, disoriented moment, he wasn't sure if he was awake or still lost in a dream. The world felt hazy — the kind of haze not born from mist, but from something heavier… like the air itself was thick with memory, with forgotten things trying to crawl their way back into the light. He rubbed his eyes slowly, feeling the roughness of his skin, the grit in his palms.
Am I… dreaming?
He sat up, glancing around, and what greeted him was not the dim, rocky walls of the cave they'd taken shelter in, nor the soft glow of a dying campfire.
Instead — trees.
A dense, sprawling forest surrounded him, trees so tall they scraped the sky, their leaves shimmering in unnatural colors. Blues too deep, reds too sharp, purples that seemed to bleed light instead of reflecting it. Shadows moved where nothing should move, curling like ink dropped into water.
Kairo slowly stood, unsteady, brushing dust from his clothes.
The earth underfoot felt too soft, like it might swallow him whole if he stood in one place too long. A cold, crawling feeling crept up his spine, but he forced himself forward.
What… is this place? This isn't anywhere near the path… or even in this world…
He walked.
The forest made no sound. No wind, no bird calls, no rustling leaves — just an endless, heavy silence, thick and suffocating. The kind of silence that made his ears ring. Time felt strange. Distorted. It didn't move forward or backward, just… hung there, stagnant and oppressive.
After what felt like an eternity, he found them —
three paths.
They split ahead of him, equally narrow, equally uninviting.
He stopped, narrowing his eyes, trying to read them like he would an enemy's stance, a wounded animal's trembling.
The first path It was overgrown, dense with vines. The plants were wrong, though — their colors too vivid, some hues he didn't even have names for. Flowers bloomed in impossible shapes, petals flickering like small tongues. The vines moved… almost imperceptibly. So slow that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't staring. A slow, hungry inching — like something waiting.
Colors don't move like that…
He took a hesitant step closer, feeling the heat in the air rise.
The leaves seemed to watch him.
The second path petals drifted endlessly, pale and ghostly, falling like snow. There was no source for them. No tree, no blooming flower, just an eternal rain of withered, soft things. The path itself was silent, save for the soundless fall of the petals. It had no end that he could see — just a narrowing, vanishing into thick mist.
Why does this feel… familiar? Like I've seen this place. In a dream…
The third path a single massive root arched over its entrance, like the maw of some enormous beast. Beyond it, only darkness stretched endlessly. No light. No hint of where it led. The dark there was thicker than night. The kind that swallowed sounds, thoughts, even memories.
He hesitated.
Which one?
How long have I even been standing here?
He lifted a hand to his face — and his breath hitched.
His hands were older.
His body taller.
His hair hung longer now, brushing his shoulders, tangled and rough. His jaw was heavier, rough with a beard he hadn't grown before. Panic surged in his chest.
How long have I been here? Am I even real anymore?
He looked around, desperate for a reflection — a pool of water, a polished stone — anything that could show him his face, confirm it was still his.
But there was nothing.
Fine.
He drew a breath, steadying the war inside his head.
Doesn't matter what I look like. Not now. I need to move.
He stepped forward — into the first path.
The vines quivered, leaves brushing against his arms like cold, clammy fingers. The path narrowed around him, and something heavy pressed at the back of his mind, a rising static that threatened to drown his thoughts.
He could barely breathe.
His footsteps slowed.
Then stopped.
The last thing he felt was the vines wrapping around his ankles.
Darkness fell.
When he woke again, it was not the forest.
It was a garden.
But not one that belonged to the world of the living.
Strange, warped structures rose up from the lush, overgrown grounds — half theater, half inn, a stage crumbling in ivy. Flowers grew in the cracks of marble pillars. Statues stood mid-dance, faces blurred, as if time itself had melted their expressions. It felt alive in a way that made his skin crawl — as though the stone could bleed, and the earth beneath his feet could whisper.
This isn't right. None of this is right.
He moved.
At first a slow, hesitant walk. Then faster — feet crunching over glassy, brittle leaves. He didn't realize how his pace changed — sometimes running, sometimes crawling like a cornered animal, sometimes leaping over thick roots and broken stone.
The air grew warmer.
A pressure built behind his eyes.
Something… here. Watching.
And then — at the heart of the garden — it appeared.
It looked almost human.
Tall, slender. But the skin was a riot of shifting color: green, pink, blue, purple, yellow — other hues that refused to be named. The colors moved across its body like smoke, never settling. It stood still, but the colors writhed.
Kairo's body moved without asking.
Running, stumbling, crawling on all fours until he came before the thing, still on his knees.
He tried to speak.
"Who—what are you?! What is this place?!"
But before the words could come, veins — thick and black and wet — shot out from the ground, binding his arms, his legs, crawling across his face, forcing his mouth closed. They pulsed, alive with something ancient and terrible.
The thing spoke.
A voice like silk stretched too thin. Feminine. Ageless.
"Come."
It smiled.
"Embrace me. We are one."
And as its hands — pressed against his chest, Kairo felt his body drink it in.
The colors.
The warmth.
The wrongness.
His skin burned.
His mind screamed.
No—! No, I—
But his body… absorbed it.
Devoured it.
Kairo woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, every muscle shaking.
His eyes darted to his surroundings — the familiar cold walls of the cave. The dim glow of the campfire's last embers. The breathing of his companions nearby.
His heart thundered in his chest.
A dream… was it?
But his hands still trembled.
It felt too real. Too solid. It was inside me.
He gripped his dagger tight, his knuckles white.
That… thing. That voice.
He hesitated, then closed his eyes and spoke in his mind:
Are you there?
A pause.
Then — like a breeze brushing across his thoughts — a soft, feminine voice answered.
"Yes… I am here."