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Cool night air slipped through the canvas seams, but it couldn't cut the weight pressing down on us. The command tent was packed tighter than I'd ever seen it. Brass, soldiers, and Fangs all crammed around the central table. We'd tried to spin the story. Keep it vague. But it didn't take a genius to connect the dots. In the end, Eshlyn was right; their minds were made up, and Val's plan never stood a chance.
Lantern light carved harsh shadows across the room full of faces. Faces I'd only seen in passing now stared at me like they'd known all along. Like Dent had always been their villain. Like they'd been waiting for this. Expecting him to snap. Each spouting their own bullshit signs of slippage. All of them proven right in the same breath.
“Point being,” Bram growled as if speaking for the mob, “we all knew this would happen. I said it from day one. He was compromised. Whether he meant to or not, he fed intel to that thing. Endangered all of us. And the only reason he wasn't caged?" Her eyes finally landed on me. "Because someone insisted he was fine.”
“There were signs,” Tovin added, gesturing broadly toward the gathered brass with a chorus of agreement. “But not enough to warrant action. Not until now.”
Eshlyn exhaled, barely audible. "Finally. Someone with sense."
“You're seriously vouching for them?” Bram challenged, “Now, it's too late.”
"Funny," Val said, voice flat and sharp. "You didn't say shit when we were all drinking together last night… Guess it's easier to call someone a monster when they're not in the room."
“Because I knew you'd go feral at any mention of it,” Bram fired back. “ And I was right.”
“So what the hell do you want?” Val snapped, throwing his arms wide. “We’ve been fighting a war. Remy sounded the fucking alarm while you were all asleep in your beds. I got blown up. You didn’t do a god damned thing to contain this; it was all on us.”
“And thanks to your efforts…” Nico interjected. “Sir Gradoff was the only casualty. Point being… it could have been worse.”
"It is worse," Dagonbord cut in, voice crisp and measured. "Infected undead escaped the perimeter. The entire mission has been compromised." He paused, gaze sliding briefly to me before returning to Val. "And what we want, Val… What we need… is clarity and accountability. Someone willing to take responsibility for what happened."
A tension-filled silence followed. I could feel him waiting, almost inviting me to speak up, to accept blame or defend myself. But I didn't. Not yet.
Sierra spoke next, surprisingly calm and measured, “Dent’s been cleared for fieldwork from the beginning… Maybe he shouldn’t have been.”
“Only because certain people knew how to play politics,” Bram barked.
“I think we can all agree mistakes were made,” Tovin said, trying to smooth things over. “No single individual is to blame.”
“Besides Dent, you mean?” Bram scoffed, then finally pointed at Eshyn, Val, and me. “And the people who directly protected him?”
“Get a grip, will ya? It’s like none of you ever met the guy,” Val growled. “He’s been the best ally anyone could ask for. Not only did he lighten the mood, but he held the line. He fought right beside you. Every step of the way. Always willing to take the hit… to jump into the fray, no questions asked.”
“...And he deserves better than your condemnation,” Eshlyn added.
A short silence permeated the space before Dagonbord finally broke it. “And then decided to pulverise our soldiers and deliberately jeopardise the entire reason any of us are here,” He said, voice tinged with condescension. “No one is arguing his effectiveness in battle, but we must acknowledge that this was preventable.”
“He didn’t decide anything,” I finally stepped forward. “He was infected… You can’t hang a man for bleeding out.”
“Maybe not.” Bram snarled, “...but I want someone to admit it happened, and that you should’ve kept better tabs on him.”
"You need someone to blame?" I shot back, taking a moment to look around the room.
Dagonbord's expression didn't change, but I saw the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He'd obviously been waiting for this, but I didn’t care.
Fine. Let him have it.
"Blame me," I said, voice steady. "I trusted Dent. I vouched for him. I made the call." I held Dagonbord's gaze. "If that's what you need to move forward, then there it is."
The room paused for a breath, but Dagonbord seized the moment as anticipated. “Very well… ” He started.
“But Dent didn’t do this,” I interrupted, sweeping my eyes across their faces. “You all want to be right so badly you’re willing to flay him for it, but this wasn’t his fault. He resisted until he couldn’t. And I trusted he would, because he’s stronger than any of you ever gave him credit for.”
"Then you acknowledge," Dagonbord said quietly, "That personal loyalty has clouded your judgment and jeopardised this mission. Perhaps not through malice, but attachment." His gaze swept the room, then returned to me. "However sympathetic we are to your loss, the parasite needed only one weakness to exploit, and you provided it."
“Well put,” Bram breathed.
Typical bureaucratic bullshit.
“Fine,” I said, brushing it off. “We’ve seen that the parasite is smart. It adapts, it corrupts, and this time, it got the better of us. We took a hit. A big one.”
“What’s your point?” Tovin asked, not unkindly. “Your grace.”
A shiver crept down my spine, but I shoved it down deep. “That instead of standing here dissecting the wound, blaming Dent for something out of his control or me for believing in him, we adjust and carry this forward.” I stepped closer to the table, pointing to the map. “We continue with our planned course of action. Go in at first light. Search for answers. Rescue Dent. Then collapse the hive as planned.”
"I'm sorry," Bram leaned forward in disbelief. "Rescue Dent? The same guy who just attacked us? Who's infected and incurable?"
“Obviously,” I shot back, meeting her gaze. “Do you typically abandon your comrades when they’ve been captured?”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she barked. "He's not captured, he’s compromised, there’s a difference.”
“What about the undead that escaped?” Lyssa asked, trying to bring the focus back to the conversation.
“There are tracks,” I motioned. “We have nearly three dozen soldiers unassigned at any given time. We can put them on recon. Detach a tracking unit.”
“I’m willing to lead that effort,” Nico offered.
“We need you with us,” Tovin muttered, shaking his head. “The tomb is our priority.”
“No,” Dagonbord said, stepping forward. “Your priority is what the Queen commands.”
Eshlyn frowned. “And what does that mean?”
“The Queen has shifted our focus.” Dagonbord straightened. “Effective immediately, all efforts are to be redirected toward tracking the escaped undead,” he then motioned toward the map. “The tomb is to be sealed. Permanently.”
“You don’t mean…” Lyssa started.
“After we retrieve Dent,” Eshlyn clarified, voice sharp. “Of course.”
“No,” Dagonbord repeated plainly. “Any recovery attempt would pose unacceptable risk to the mission. Dent is a liability at best, and an incredulous danger at worst. Further exposure only empowers the parasite and yields no benefit to our cause.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“As claimed. You are to blame for endangering this mission and, as such, are removed from your position.” He didn’t even blink. “Per the queen's order, the charges are to be placed and detonated promptly at sunrise. To be clear… Your part in this expedition is over.”
The words landed like ice. Not that I cared about being in charge. I never wanted it in the first place, but he was ordering us to bury Dent as if it were already decided.
He let that hang for a moment, then leaned in, voice dropping low enough that only I could hear: "You could have walked away from this with your reputation intact, Remy… A pity you chose sentiment over sense.”
“You can’t possibly expect us to adhere to that,” Eshlyn added, cool and distinct.
"He was my friend," Lyssa said, stepping forward, voice taut but steady. "I won't bury him alive like some monster."
The tension spiked.
Dagonbord’s jaw twitched, but his hands stayed folded behind his back, chained to decorum even now. Bram looked like she might explode again, but Nico and Sierra shifted quietly beside Lyssa. They didn’t speak, just set a grounding hand on her shoulder, pulling her back slightly as if to keep out of trouble.
“I expect you to do your duty,” Dagonbord returned, sharp as steel. “And obey the Queen’s command.” His gaze swept over us all, slow and contemptuous. “Protest… and I’ll have you arrested for insubordination.”
“Insubordination?” Val muttered, laughing bitterly. “We were here first, you fuck.”
“I understand your feelings,” Dagonbord scoffed at the word. “But you are no longer in command of this mission, and if anyone disobeys the Queen’s directive, they will be imprisoned and struck from every record before the week is out.”
“What are you going to do?” Lyssa’s fists clenched. “Seize anyone who gives a shit?”
Tovin pulled her back, “What she means to say, My Lord, is we recognise the logic behind the new direction, but need a moment to collect our thoughts.”
“You're okay with this?” I motioned to the Fangs as a whole, but no one would meet my gaze. Lyssa was the only one still facing forward, eyes locked on Dagonbord.
“He’s a danger, Remy. You can’t expect…” Bram started, shaking her head, but I cut her off.
“What if it were you?” I snapped at her, then the rest of the room. “Huh?”
Dagonbord’s gaze sharpened, but I didn’t grant him the opportunity to speak. “Every chance you and your precious queen got, you showed you couldn’t give two shits about him.” Then to the Fangs. “...but he stood with you anyway,” My voice tightened. “Bled for you. And for what? So you can call him an enemy when he needs you most?”
The room was still. Only the canvas walls moved, whispering in the wind.
“You’d gamble lives on sentiment,” Dagonbord muttered. “A child's plea.”
“No,” I replied. “I’m reminding you that he fucking matters.” I let it land before lowering my voice. “Maybe going after him makes me a fool, fine, but at least I won’t be a coward.” I stepped without meaning to, and stared into his soul. “I’ll leave that for you, and your bitch-ass, worthless trash of a Queen.”
The gasp was immediate. Even the wind held its breath.
Lyssa's eyes were glassy, mouth shut, but everyone could see the fight written on her face. Mine too. My teeth bared, jaw locked tight like a coiled spring ready to snap. Val looked like he might tear the table in half with his bare hands. Even Eshlyn, steady, calculating Eshlyn, looked out of words and ready to throw hands.
I saw it, Dagonbord’s mask slip into fury. The twitch in his jaw. The flash in his eyes. For a heartbeat, I thought he might strike me, order me arrested right here, but there was hesitation.
For a long moment, the tent was nothing but breath and silence.
Until Dagonbord finally stepped forward, quiet and cold. “Correct decisions are often the most difficult… As a mercy, I will write off your comment to grief.” His expression didn’t waver. “Leave while I let you. You are dismissed.”
There were no words left, so I turned for the exit. Val followed at my back. Eshlyn stopped, just long enough for everyone to feel it, then moved after us. A quiet settled when the flap fell shut behind us. Even Dagonbord was silent, but I heard the next words. “Collapse the tomb at dawn.”
I kept walking. Let them seal it, collapse the whole thing, like it never existed.
I’ll be in and out before the charges ever go off.
…
The cluttered sprawl of Dent’s belongings left us with nothing but questions. He’d left everything behind, even the suit he’d worn to Kael’s memorial lay thrown on the tent floor. Traces of cedar oil clung to the canvas like memory, bedroll half-folded near the back wall, boots tucked at the entrance. His wood colored cloak still hung by the door. None of us said it, but the silence was loud enough: he might never wear it again.
“Fucking Dagonbord,” I muttered, easing onto the floor with a groan. “I guess we should’ve seen this coming.”
Val exhaled sharply through his nose and leaned against the support pole. “I mean, I get the reasoning,” he muttered. “But barring us was still a dick move.”
“He’s drawn a line in the sand,” Eshlyn said, voice soft but cold. “And I can’t help but feel like he wants us to cross it.”
I stared at the cloak. “Or already knows we will.”
“Perhaps.” Eshlyn dropped down beside me, stiff and deliberate. “And I doubt the Fangs will be willing to disobey him. If the tomb guards share their mindset… we may not be able to get in, even if we want to.”
Val's arms folded, almost a grin tugging at his mouth. "Guess we'll find out."
I looked over at him. “Meaning?”
He met my gaze, steady. “We’re still going in, aren’t we?”
Eshlyn squeezed my hand lightly. "Listen… I know you want to. So do I. But let's be honest… at this point, the chance of a cure is slim to none. You're both badly injured, and Dagonbord made it apparent that it'd be a crime."
“So what?” Val’s eyes sharpened. “We abandon him?”
“I’m not saying that.” Eshlyn lifted her chin. “I just think we need to be smart about this.”
“We knew this might happen.” Val shot back. “Remy’s got a record. Dent’s been a target since day one. It’s time we stop pretending we give a fuck about their rules.”
“I have a family to consider, Val.” Eshlyn’s eyes drifted to the ground. “I can’t just…” Her head shook. “...Break the law so casually.”
Val’s brow furrowed. “Are you serious right now?”
“No.” I crossed my arms. “...Eshlyn’s right. Things have changed.”
Val shot me a look. “Since when?”
"You know when!” I shot back, no room for sugarcoating. “Both of you have families. People you need to consider… Not me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Honestly, I'm fucked either way. I should go alone."
His voice dropped, bitter. “Of course you’d suggest that.”
“We’re in this together,” Eshlyn cut in. Tone softening. “Just like the first time.”
"This isn't the same," I said, motioning to both of them. "Dagonbord was clear. Even if we get in, they'll arrest us the moment we ascend the stairs. I’m the only one who has any chance of getting in and out, and I can’t jump with everyone. Especially not now."
Eshlyn laid a hand on my back. “That’s not happening, Remy, so drop it.”
Val raised a brow as if we were forgetting something. “And who’s going to arrest us?”
“What?” Eshlyn questioned.
My brow furrowed “Uh, the battalion of soldiers at the Queen’s command?” I snapped back. “The politically-minded ascenders who wanted Dent caged from the start? You seriously think they’ll blink?”
“You called the queen worthless trash.” He barked a laugh, “If anyone else did that, they’d be flogged on the spot.”
My eyes rolled, “You don’t know that.”
“Doubt it all you want, but you’ve saved lives. We’ve earned respect… and Dagonbord knows it.”
“Hardly.” I choked a laugh, but it wasn’t funny.
“If that's true, it only makes us more of a target.” Eshlyn chimed in, sceptical. “Though he may be happy to get rid of us.”
“It’s not.” I motioned to both of them. “...They blame me for what happened.”
“The point is moot.” Eshlyn’s arms were crossed now, gaze unreadable. “Even if they let us go… We’ll still be wanted.”
“Well…” I leaned back, thinking. "Not necessarily. If we run for the Ascension Gate… extradition between floors is harder than you'd think."
“That's an understatement,” Val exclaimed, leaning back against the pole, arms crossed. "Once we start the ascension trial, they can’t touch us."
“We’d have to leave the floor…” I added, “Like permanently.”
"Which is perfect." His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it, something sharp and old. "Interfloor law's a bitch and a half. The Queen can file charges, sure, but extradition is a logistical nightmare. Even if they caught us, it takes years for those charges to stick, it costs a fortune, and the Council won't bother unless it's murder or high treason." He met my eyes. "Telling her to eat shit doesn't qualify."
Eshlyn's gaze sharpened, suspicious. "And you know this how?"
Val's jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might actually answer. Then: "Doesn't matter. Point is, as long as we stay off this floor, Queen Aurelene is basically powerless."
I gave him a look. “With my record and how dangerous the parasite is… She could easily charge this as high treason.”
“It’s not.” He challenged.
Eshlyn's gaze drifted between us, brow creased. "She could twist the story… but I suppose you're right in a sense." Her eyes narrowed. "And alarmingly well-versed in interfloor extradition."
Val just shrugged, but I caught the sadness behind it. "What matters is we won't be running forever… not like Remy."
"Unless the Queen gets creative with her charges," I muttered.
“It’s not that easy.” His expression fell for a moment. “...Trust me.”
I gave him a flat look.
Eshlyn was quiet for a long moment, staring at her hands. Then: "If you're right… and I'm not saying you are… but if you're right..." She looked up, meeting my eyes. "My family is on Floor Three. Queen Aurelene, obviously, has no jurisdiction there… and if the process is as you say..." She exhaled slowly. "I presume they'd be safe. Inconvenienced, maybe questioned, but safe."
"And you?" I asked.
"I'll certainly lose some political standing, but I gave up caring about that a long time ago." A faint smile. "And my family may be able to challenge this whole thing… if we get to them." She leaned back on her arms. “Suppose that’s it then. Either way, we’re not coming back here anytime soon.”
Not coming back, I thought. “What about Selene?”
Val and Eshlyn exchanged a glance.
“We can’t tell her,” Val said. “She can’t leave like we can, and she’d lose everything if they even think she helped us.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand,” Eshlyn added quietly.
"Okay then," I said, mind already working. "If we're doing this, we get in before dawn, grab Dent, and slip past the guards when they go to set the charges. Disappear in the treeline and head straight for the Ascension Gate. No detours."
Val nodded. "Agreed."
I met Eshlyn’s eyes. “You’re sure about this?”
She brushed my shoulder with hers. "I would follow you anywhere, darling."
My chest tightened. I almost wanted to argue, to push them away, to tell her she was being stupid. But the look in her eyes stopped me.
"…But sunrise isn't far off," she continued, voice quieter now. "...and you're both still injured."
Val rolled a shoulder. “I’ll manage.”
I nodded. “We’ll have to.”
Eshlyn crossed to her satchel and started pulling out vials and herbs, laying them out with practised efficiency. "I'll prepare a numbing tincture. It'll dull the pain, but won't fix anything. If either of you push too hard…" She looked at me, then Val. "...you'll collapse, or worse."
"Noted," I muttered.
"I'm serious, Remy." Her hands stilled. "We avoid conflict wherever possible. No strenuous casting and no heroics."
“Eshlyn…” I met her gaze with honest eyes. "I can't promise that."
"Then promise me you'll try." She continued, “In your condition, one high focus spell will likely send you straight into critical aether-strain.”
I nodded. It was the best I could offer. Then winced, pulling myself up from the floor to reach out a hand, palm open. "That's it, then. Take an hour to get your affairs in order. We're doing this."
Val’s hand rested over mine. “We get Dent,” he said, eyes sharp, “...and put this place behind us.”
“For good,” Eshlyn added, placing a hand over his.
And just like that, it was decided. We’d see this through, but before I could say more, the tent flap stirred again.
Lyssa stepped in without a word. Firelight curled across her skin as she crossed the threshold and set her pack down next to Dent’s.
“Uhh.” Val blinked. “...What are you doing?”
"I'll tell you what I'm not doing." She began unpacking her gear, deliberate and calm. "I'm not leaving him."
We exchanged glances.
"Lyssa," I said carefully, stepping closer. "We're not coming back here."
“I know.” She finally faced us, steady.
“You're sure?” Val's voice dropped, serious now. "You'll be burning bridges. Ruining your reputation and any ties you have here. All of it… for one goodbye."
"I get it." Lyssa's jaw tightened, but her voice stayed steady. "Dent helped me believe in myself, in my choices, in what I want. I'm not abandoning him now."
Silence settled over the tent. I held her gaze, saw the resolve there, and something else. Something raw and private she wasn't going to share.
Then nodded slowly. “Just you, then?”
Lyssa gave the faintest smile. “Some want to help, but… Yes… It’s just me.”
“I see.” Eshlyn placed a hand on her shoulder, voice soft. “Thank you for coming.”
…
I spent the next half hour preparing. Leather armor cold against my skin. Daggers sheathed. Bow strapped tight across my back. Everything packed except the tent. A feeble attempt at concealing our plans.
There was a tension around me, even now. Eyes watching from a distance. Not unkind, but knowing. It didn't take a genius to figure out, and I could tell they knew what I was preparing for. Where I was going. Still, no one stopped me. None except one.
Yetta was waiting outside my tent as I turned to leave for the final time. She straightened when she saw me, hands clutching something wrapped in cloth. "Your grace."
I swallowed the impulse to flinch. "Hello, Yetta… Do you need something?"
"No," she replied, eyes low. "I… umm." She cleared her throat, then held up the bundle, large, smelling of herbs and bread. "We prepared this for you… with enough to share."
My throat tightened. Solidarity. A farewell from someone I barely knew and would likely never see again.
"Bit early for breakfast," I said, managing a small smile.
Her own smile was warm and telling. "It sure is, Your Grace."
I couldn't help but pull her into a small, warm hug. "Thank you," I whispered, then took the bundle with a wink. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Of course." She smirked with a subtle bow, then slipped back into camp.
At the edge of the clearing, I spotted Val, cross-armed, leaning on a post, already packed. Black armor gleaming in the firelight. A large ebony shield strapped to his back, triangular and blank-faced, silver edging catching the light.
"What's with the shield?" I asked, stepping up to meet him.
"Figured it might come in handy." He shrugged. "I traded all of Eshlyn's fancy pillows for it."
“Well… ” A small chuckle escaped. "Not like she needs them anymore."
"My thoughts exactly." He motioned, raising an eyebrow. "So what was that all about?"
"A farewell gift from the cooks," I said, playfully bumping his shoulder with mine.
"Ahh." His eyebrows raised. "Guess we're not as subtle as we think we are."
"Guess not."
"Whatever." He went on. "How ya feeling?"
"Like shit…" I muttered, deciding to be honest. "In more ways than one."
"Oh, good." He smirked. "I was starting to miss your usual pessimism."
"Yep." I croaked, trying to stow away the tinge of sadness at what was to come.
"Ready to say goodbye to Selene?"
"You mean without telling her we’re going away for good?"
"Well," he breathed as we neared the unofficial herbalist tent she occupied. "Yeah."
I paused in my tracks as we turned the corner, an uneasy dread settling in my gut. This was it. The final farewell, I couldn't actually say.
Val studied me for a second. "You… okay?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't. I just took a shaky breath and curled into his chest, cheek resting cold against his armor. Hands latching onto his side.
He paused for a breath, then wrapped me tight.
No words came. No flood of emotion either, just a tense numbness that slowly dissipated as I pressed into him harder. Not even I knew why. He didn't speak, just cradled me in an unquestioning embrace until I settled, finally shedding a full breath.
"Sorry," I breathed into his shoulder.
He brushed his thumb against my cheek, pulling my gaze to his. "Never apologise."
My eyes closed as his forehead found mine. I almost reached for a kiss, but conceded only to linger. To let his unshakable presence ground me like a lightning rod.
When we parted, his hand met mine, fingers lacing tight, like he could carry whatever I couldn't. A faint smile formed on my lips as my eyes reopened, steadier now.
He gave the faintest nod, and we walked forward, together.
…
The tent was dim, shadows stretching long across the canvas walls from the flicker of a single lantern. The scent of mint, lavender, and old tea leaves wafted out like a wave, the kind of scent that always settled deep in your lungs.
We didn't knock, just moved the flap aside. Selene looked up from a low table where she was lining up tiny glass tinctures, and smiled like she'd been expecting us. Maybe she had been.
Eshlyn was already there, cross-legged and calmly sipping from a battered tin cup like this was just another sleepless morning.
"Well, if it isn't my favourite troublemakers," Selene said, translucent form rising smoothly as she smiled.
I returned it, weak but honest. “Always a pleasure.”
Val squeezed my shoulder. "Remy scored us some breakfast."
“A bit early, don’t you think?” Selene asked, dropping her gaze as a heavy silence followed, armor donned, packs nearly full, her ghostly eyes fell over all of it. Recognition lacing her expression, like a lantern snuffed and quickly relit… But she knew not to ask, and for that, I was grateful.
“Oh. I see,” she continued softly. “Well… come in, then. We were just reminiscing.”
Before I could say anything else, a blur of shadow slipped in under the canvas with a low chirp. Little claws darting across the floor.
Val smirked. “Nyla must’ve heard you.”
She trotted proudly into the middle of the tent, a limp lizard dangling from her jaws. She hopped up onto the low table and dropped it like a gift, or maybe a place setting.
Eshlyn leaned over, cooing at her in an absurd baby voice. “Awww… Of course, you’re more than welcome to join us, little Nylaaa.”
Val moved in to scratch behind her ears. “Don’t ‘aww’ her. She’s a predator.” Then copied her baby voice in his own raspy kind of way. “Aren’t you, lil Nylaaa?”
Nyla purred dramatically, flopping over as I sank down beside Eshlyn, who bumped her shoulder into mine. I leaned into it as the scene carved a small smile across my lips.
“Well, you’re looking much better,” she eyed me gently.
“Don’t feel any better,” I assured her.
That's when her soft lips pressed firmly into my cheek, playful and wordless.
My eyes rolled as she pulled away, staring at me as if the peck changed anything. "Okay, maybe a little better," I played along, the corner of my mouth tugging up despite myself.
“Oh!” Selene piped up, reaching into a nearby pouch. “I prepared something for that.”
I raised a sarcastic brow. “Gonna kiss me too?”
“Heavens no, dear,” she scoffed, pulling free two small brown vials. “But Eshlyn warned me you two were feeling worse for wear.”
She handed one to me. The other to Val. Who quickly popped the cork, inhaling deep through his nose. “Oh hell yeah. Now it’s a party.”
“It’s only a numbing agent.” Selene rolled her eyes. “Same formula we gave Remy some days ago.”
“Thanks, Selene,” I muttered, stowing it for later despite the ache still lingering in my chest. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes, please,” Eshlyn said, already unlacing the bundle.
We unfolded the cloth Yetta had given me and laid out the food: still warm flatbread, eggs laced with green herbs, and jerky dusted with spice. Much better than what was regularly being served at mealtime.
“Pulled some strings, did you?” Selene teased.
“You know me.” I quipped, “Full of charm.”
Before we could stop her, Nyla snagged a stick of jerky in her teeth, abandoning the poor lizard without a glance. The thing was still twitching as she padded off to the corner to gnaw on her prize like a little goblin.
“Damn, Nyla.” I swatted the corpse in her direction. Hoping maybe she’d offer it a mercy kill. “At least finish what you started.”
She didn’t, but the gesture choked out a few chuckles from everyone at the table. We followed Nyla’s example and tore into the rest of the meal, each taking a portion from the middle like a communal dinner plate.
Selene only gathered small bites of the bread, expression flickering between warm smiles and knowing sorrow. “Been quite the year for you, hasn’t it, darling?”
I peered up from my own jerky stick, meeting her gaze before looking around as if maybe she was referring to someone else. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” She croaked a laugh. “You’ve got some scratches, but you're not caked in mud…”
“Thank the gods.” Val interrupted, grinning through bites of egg.
“…Finally got some real meat on your bones.” She continued. “It’s nice to see, is all.”
“Ahh, thanks, I guess.” My eyes drifted down to the leather held tight around my waist. “I can’t take credit, though… That’s all on these two.”
And Dent. I thought. Mostly Dent, but decided to leave it at that.
“I ever tell y'all about how Remy attacked me the day we met?” Val chimed in, earning an eyeroll from me.
“Attacked you?” Selene questioned with way too much enthusiasm.
“Sure did.” He continued. “Like a raging lunatic.”
“After you cut some poor guy's hand off.” I challenged.
"You did what?" Selene leaned in, torso nearly phasing through the table.
“Oh!” Eshlyn muttered, swallowing a bite of bread. “I remember this. She told me you were an insufferable prick, and that I should watch out.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “I did not say that.” But I totally did.
“Uh-huh.” Val pointed at her with a bit of bread. “All the while she smelled like rotten eggs and deer dung.”
“Okayyy.” Embarrassment flashed deep in my gut.
“Yes!” Eshlyn cracked an actual smile. “I couldn’t believe how different you looked, all cleaned up.”
“I was sleeping in the woods.” I shot back defensively. “Living off the land.”
“Not very well, it seemed.” Selene countered, joining in on the spirited criticism.
“Well.” I tried shifting the subject. “Eshlyn called me a… stray dog.”
“That was a compliment.” She argued playfully. “All things considered.”
“Alright.” I leaned on the table with my elbow. “It’s getting a little tough not to take this personally.”
A quiet chuckle echoed through the group as we continued eating. Conversation drifting in and out. Mostly stories of old memories and embarrassing moments. For a time, it felt like family. One trying to distance themselves from the harsh reality that we were missing a piece. That everything was about to change, and already had; each of us desperately clinging to the remnants of normalcy we all knew would dry up the moment the food did… and it did.
Val gave me a nod as everyone began finishing up. That's when I grabbed up the last piece of jerky I had left and called Nyla over to the corner. Selene and Eshlyn were still exchanging pleasantries as they cleared the table.
“Hey, girl,” I whispered in a crouch.
She brushed against my shin before taking a seat, as if asking for the treat in my hand.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to give it to ya,” I promised, still holding it. “But I need you to stay with Selene tonight.”
Her head only tilted in response.
“Can you do that?” I held the piece out as she climbed the short distance to grasp it gently in her jaws. “Good girl.” I scratched behind her ears as she purred, paws prancing in a small circle at my feet. “I promise, I’ll come get you when I can.”
She climbed my back, clambering all the way to my shoulders, before I plucked her off. “No, no,” I said, placing her back on the ground. “Selene will take care of you.”
I scratched along her back one last time. She stared up at me, unblinking, like she understood exactly what I wasn't saying. Finally, I rose to my feet.
“Suppose this is goodbye for now.” Selene motioned to Eshlyn, giving her a small but lingering hug.
“It’s been a pleasure.” Eshlyn nodded before letting go. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“See you in the morning, ay Selene.” Val grinned as if sharing a passphrase.
She only smiled in that knowing, sorrowful way. “Of course.”
There were no words as I made my way over, pulling her into an embrace that rippled against her ghostly form, solid but faint like a whisper. Her arms pressed firm around me, wrapping like a vibration given shape, an echo of what once was.
“Now, now.” She said, not letting go. “No need for all that. You’ll be back, won't you, dear?”
I tried to let go, but my hands didn’t listen. I ended up squeezing her tighter, staying longer than I meant to… maybe longer than I should have. “Goodbye, Selene.”
She patted my back. “Have no regrets, darling.”
I only nodded into her shoulder before pulling away for the final time. When I turned to leave, Nyla had already scampered off somewhere, probably hunting again.
I didn't think anything of it.
…
My heart rate spiked as we stepped out from Selene's tent. There were no words, just a quick glance passing between Val and Eshlyn as we turned the corner.
Dawn hadn't fully formed, just a steel wash bleeding into cloud. A grey blanket waiting for the light. The ground was still wrapped in a low crawl of mist, the air cold enough to sting. All of which had me questioning if we'd let go of too much of the night, but the time had finally come.
Off the main path, half-shadowed by the curve of the forest, were the Fangs. We'd nearly turned our backs before Nico looked up and rose to their feet. Sierra and Tovin followed. One by one, they stood. For a moment, I thought they might have changed their minds. Decided to follow Lyssa's example in helping us. But their heads only bowed in a show of reverence. All but Bram. She didn't move, just sat with her arms crossed and her jaw locked tight.
I suppose the three of them meant it to be an expression of solidarity. A notion of quiet approval, or shared grief. But to me, it was nothing but thin guilt. A cowardly gesture. Proof they wanted to help, but not enough to risk anything. Bram might have been against us, but at least she wasn't pretending.
And after everything, a nod was all that would pass between us.
Until we met again…
Or didn't.
I barely acknowledged them as the dew-covered leaves crunched dry beneath our boots. Let the distance swallow them as we kept walking, toward the tomb, toward Dent, and whatever waited for us beneath the stone.
The mist thinned as the trees parted, revealing the tomb entrance ahead. The massive stone slab was sealed tight, beating with fleshy tendrils that seemed to drink in the grey light. Some ten soldiers stood guard, lined up shoulder to shoulder, fully armored and at attention. Their breath misted in the cold air, hands resting near weapons but not drawn. Not yet.
Lyssa was already waiting, crouched behind the nearby brush, just far enough not to draw attention. She rose as we approached, then flicked her jaw toward the soldiers. "You all ready for this?"
My stomach turned slightly as I nodded. A mix of nervous anticipation and quiet determination settled low in my gut.
"As we'll ever be," Eshlyn said softly.
"Hell yeah." Val bumped Lyssa’s fists like they were about to storm a fortress. Not a breath of hesitation between them.
I took a deep breath, cold air burning my lungs, and looked each of them in the eye. "The Queen will want our heads for this."
"She already does," Val said with a shrug.
"Then let's give her a reason to remember us," Lyssa added, voice steady and fierce.
Eshlyn just nodded, staff gripped tight in her hands.
I felt the shift in my chest. Not calm, exactly. But certain.
“So…” Lyssa turned to me, expectant. "What's the plan for getting past these bozos?"
"It's safe to say they're expecting us," Val muttered, eyes shifting to me.
I studied the line of guards, ten soldiers, armored and alert, standing between us and the only thing that mattered. Even if the door was open, it’s ten against four. Terrible odds on a good day, and today was far from good… But they’re not ascenders, and best of all, they’d be expecting three of us. Not four.
"Not all of us," I said as a plan slowly crystallised, sharp and reckless, before I turned to Val. “Let's test your theory."
…
Our boots crunched softly on frost-dusted ground as the tomb entrance loomed ahead, ancient and sealed tight like a lid on a coffin. The soldiers stiffened immediately. All ten of them drifted a hand toward their weapons. Shields rising ever so slightly, but they remained in line. Shoulder to shoulder like a wall of armor. Not quite in battle position, not yet.
I knew they had orders, and that meant something to them. I didn’t want to hurt anyone if I could help it, but they were in the way, and I’d do what I had to… always.
Val walked on my right, shield strapped to his arm, open hand ready. His expression was carved from stone. Eshlyn on my left, thin staff held loosely in one hand, the picture of calm. Our pace kept steady, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. We stopped about twenty feet from the line, and for a moment, nobody moved. Not a sound but the mist curling between us.
Then I broke it, “You know why we’re here.” I kept my voice commanding yet calm. “We mean you no harm, but you're in our way… so move.”
A tension-filled silence followed. No one budged, but I could see their eyes shifting with quiet question.
“You know me.” I started again, almost a plea. “Don’t make me move you.”
“Your Grace.” The center soldier finally spoke. “We have orders…”
“I ordered Sir Gradoff not to open this door for anyone but me.” I interrupted, his name sour on my tongue. My stomach turned, using a dead man's authority to get what I wanted, but I went on anyway. “The fallen hero has my deepest respect, but that order now falls to you…” A pause. “I won’t say it again.”
Some hands lowered, just an inch, hesitation bleeding through, but the line held. The stalemate remained. “You must understand.” The soldier replied with a reluctant tone. “We must not disobey the queen.”
I understood completely… What disobedience means for someone like them, but I didn’t care, and this was never a request, so I motioned silently to Eshlyn, who nodded as ice spread from where her staff pierced the ground, spilling outward like a crystalline wave, coating the frost and dirt in a thick, glittering sheet. It spread slow and silent like spilled water freezing mid-flow.
The soldiers tensed, raising their shields, swords half drawn as it reached their boots.
One of them shifted their weight, swiftly sliding against the slick surface. Another nearly tripped as they took a half-step back. It didn’t mean we could face them head-on, but the spikes on our boots would give us an edge and, more importantly, the escalation was clear.
I raised my voice with the amplification spell, letting it crack through the clearing with a sound like shattered thunder. “Final Warning.”
That’s when the air changed.
It wasn't loud. Wasn't dramatic. Just a sudden weight added to the field, like the moment before a storm breaks, and I knew he was here.
Dagonbord stepped into view, seemingly from... nowhere. Just like that day in the tent. One second, the space behind the guards was empty. The next, he was standing there, hands folded behind his back, posture immaculate despite the cold.
Whatever presence-dampening spell he favoured faded like smoke as the tension spiked. Everyone was charged and ready, even if no real weapon had left its sheath.
"I had hoped you'd reconsider," he said softly, voice carrying without effort.
I didn't flinch. "Been waiting all night for us… How thoughtful."
"Naturally." He took a single step forward, despite the ice. "You've never been subtle, Remy. And I've never been naive."
“Then you know better than to get in our way.”
"Indeed." He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he'd already solved. "But still, I thought it prudent to offer you one final chance to make the correct choice."
"We've already had this conversation," Val growled.
Dagonbord's gaze didn't shift from mine. "Join me, Remy. Use your... unique talents for the crown.” His head tilted as he continued. “In exchange, I'll grant your companions safe passage into the tomb. I'll even delay the charges, however briefly."
"And what happens to her then?" Eshlyn asked, though I already knew.
“You, Remy, become what you were always meant to be… A valuable asset."
"A prisoner," Val spat. “You’ll abuse your leverage till the day she dies.”
"You do not speak for us, boy!" Dagonbord corrected sharply. “We are offering a partnership...”
The word hung in the air like bait on a hook.
“...Excusing your blatant disrespect for authority… You have proven yourself. You deserve to be rewarded.” He paused, letting that settle. “So don’t be stupid.”
I felt the weight of it settle over me, the trade he was offering. How sweet it seemed, even if the trap was blatant below the surface. My freedom for theirs. My agency for everyone's safety. Even if I did have to work for them… maybe it would be worth it. Status. Resources. No more running. No prison. All I had to do was agree… To serve the crown. Even if I didn’t, I could just say yes so we can walk into the tomb with Dagonbord's blessing, get Dent out, and run for the Ascension Gate like we planned.
For half a heartbeat, I almost thought it could work.
But I knew better.
He and I both know not to trust a handshake deal. I’d have to sign something more binding. Something tied to my aether-signature with no time to consider the ramifications. Even then, there’s no way he would let us go alone. He'd insist we have ‘escorts’ and the moment we surfaced with Dent, they'd take him. "Royal custody for treatment," they'd call it. Then I’d be stuck, bound by a deal I couldn't break, with Dent held hostage to ensure my compliance. They'd use my record and Dent’s treatment to keep all of us leashed. Forever.
This wasn't an offer. It was a snare. More than that, it was insulting. To think I’d let them use me like a weapon at their disposal. As if I’d ever put my trust in anyone like them. I’d rather see their pretentious system burn to the ground.
“I’m not stupid.” I met Dagonbord's gaze, cold and steady. "And you can shove that deal right up your fucking ass."
Dagonbord didn't look surprised. If anything, he looked satisfied. Like I'd confirmed something he'd suspected all along. "Then you understand the consequences."
"I do."
He nodded once with a sharp exhale. Then, without raising his voice, "Seize them."
Val and I drew weapons, but the soldiers didn't move.
Not immediately.
“Think this through,” I said, my voice booming like before. Val gave me a knowing grin at the signal we agreed on, like he would enjoy what happened next.
The soldiers looked at each other. Hesitant. Hands twitching around their half-drawn swords, but no one stepped forward. Fear or disloyalty, I wasn’t sure, but it was clear no one wanted to be the first to approach.
The silence stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring.
Dagonbord's jaw tightened. "Did you not hear me?" His voice sharpened, still controlled but edged with steel. "Do it. Now."
"Right away, my Lord," one replied, but it was too late.
Lyssa exploded from the adjacent treeline, charging at their formation from the side, like a battering ram wrapped in leather and steel gauntlets. Before anyone could react, she slammed into the corner soldier at full speed, laying him out with surprising brutality. The impact sent him flying into the others, sliding like stacked dominoes, armor clanging, boots skidding, their bodies crashed into each other in a tangle of limbs and metal.
"Oh shit!" Val exclaimed, way too proud of the ensuing chaos, but we knew it wouldn’t last long.
"GO!" I roared as Eshlyn, Lyssa, and I sprinted for the stone slab while Val kept the soldiers off-balance.
We hit it together, all three of us bracing our shoulders and palms against the stone. My boots bit into the ice, spikes holding, but the effort sent a jolt of pain through my ribs. I ignored it. Focused on the door. The massive, ancient, sealed door. It barely budged an inch before Val caught the first soldier trying to rise and slammed his shield into him, sending the man flailing backwards on the slick surface.
"Push!" Eshlyn gasped.
We pressed as the stone groaned. Another inch, maybe two. In front of us, Val was shouting, shield bashing, keeping the guards down, buying us time.
And then the darkness encroached. Not like closing my eyes. It was as if a black lake flooded my vision. It cut out like someone had snuffed a candle. There was just... nothing.
I’ve been blinded.
"I can't see!" I exclaimed as panic spiked hot and sharp in my chest.
“It’s Dagonbord's spell,” Eshlyn shouted. “...Just keep going.”
I couldn't see the door. Not my hands. Anything… but it made sense. How he suppressed his presence. Appeared from nowhere.
I could still feel the rough stone under my palms, Eshlyn's shoulder pressed against mine, the burn in my arms. Still hear Val, clashing against the soldiers' armor. So I kept pushing.
"I’m blind now too!" Lyssa shouted, panic edging her voice.
“Stop this madness already!” Dagonbord shouted to no avail.
“We’re almost there!” Eshlyn groaned.
Sound came next: Val's voice, the clang of metal, the scrape of boots on ice. It was gone. Silence dropped over me like a shroud, sudden and absolute. No more shouts. No breathing or grinding stone. Not even my own voice, just... nothing. My heart hammered in the quiet, but I couldn't hear it. Blind, deaf and… helpless.
I had to believe we’d make it. That I was still here. Still pushing. Don't stop. I repeated in my head. Don't…
And then touch vanished. The cool feel of the stone under my hands completely disappeared. Couldn't feel anything. Not my boots on the ground. The ache in my ribs. The strain on my legs. Eshlyn beside me. All of it, gone, as if it never existed.
I didn't know if I was still moving. Didn't know if the door was shifting or if I was just leaning into empty air like an idiot. I was a disembodied mind screaming into the void. But I didn't stop… Couldn't.
And then… Something shifted. I couldn't feel, hear or see it, but suddenly my stomach dropped like there was nothing beneath me. No ground or stone. Just air. I was falling. Unable to catch myself or where I was going. Couldn't feel anything but the sickening lurch of gravity pulling me down.
Something hard and sharp slammed into me. My shoulder, hip, knee, I was tumbling, rolling, I couldn't stop, couldn't orient myself.
Crack.
Pain flared across my skull. My head hit something hard as I slowed. Sound. Light. Sensation. White hot pain. All of it rushed back in like a tidal wave.
The air was warmer here, damp, stale, thick with the smell of earth and decay. Stone steps pressed cold against my cheek. My ribs screamed.
Then Val's hands were on me… hauling me upright. Yanking me forward. "Get up, Rem!"
I gasped as my vision reached for focus. Catching the moonlight casting shades of grey over stone steps.
The tomb.
We made it inside.
"What?" The word came out hollow, like an echo.
Val's palm rested under my jaw, pulling my gaze to his. His face swam in and out of focus, edges blurred. "Come on, Rem…” His voice sounded distant, muffled, like I was underwater. “...You good?"
I shook my head as it all came into focus. “Yeah…” I nodded, throat tight. “I’m here… I’m back.”
Eshlyn was already pulling Lyssa through the gap, both of them stumbling down the steps beside us. Moonlight spilled in from the crack in the door, casting silver shadows down the stone staircase that spiralled into darkness below. We’d made it some thirty feet down in the rush and haze before we heard a voice from outside, muffled but clear: "Should we go after them?"
A pause. Then Dagonbord's, calm and cold as winter: "No… they’ll have to resurface at dawn, and when they do… if they do… We'll be waiting."
The door slammed shut. Sending an eerie sound reverberating through the stairwell, deep and final. The moonlight vanished as darkness swallowed us whole.
No turning back.