The final descent toward the riverbed quickened with a shared sense of relief. The group, worn down by the season’s most grueling trek in recent memory, was eager for the promise of rest just ahead.

Moonlight shimmered on the river’s surface, casting a soft glow over the weathered stone settlement carved into the landscape. As the Pining Frost Expedition drew closer, the slope they descended began to resemble what might have once been a main entryway leading into the heart of the city.

Elian took in the crumbling stone walls that flanked their path, remnants of an ancient fortification that once connected the rock face to the river below.

"They figured the Narrows weren’t enough?” Erith quipped dryly. "Must’ve really hated visitors if they needed a wall on top of all this." He followed the line of the wall down toward the river, where it seemed to have once stretched across the gorge, possibly spanning a gate over the water, before continuing to the rock bluff on the opposite side.

Elian smirked, nudging him. "Completely walled off from the rest of civilization... Sounds like your dream. Bet you'd have loved it here."

The main road forked into narrower passageways, where many stone structures stood tall and proud, defying time, while others had crumbled, their rubble spilling across the streets and into the buildings below.

“How many people do you think lived here? Hundreds?” Elian wondered aloud to Erith.

“Maybe thousands," Erith replied, his eyes tracing the ancient stone. "I think we’re only seeing the outskirts.” He gestured toward the emerging hillside, where the cityscape seemed to flow seamlessly into the rock itself. 

A grand staircase, etched from the stone itself, ascended from the ruins and led into the towering bluff, where more structures seemed carved directly into the cliff face. The stone walls stretched deep into the rock, vanishing into darkness.

The caravan veered right, away from the looming carved bluff and deeper into the city ruins toward the river.

Elian nudged Erith and pointed toward the wagons. “Looks like the Warden and the Surelians are gathering people. How does he look that put together after a day like this?” Elian asked, glancing down at his own blood and dirt-streaked clothes.

“Come to think of it, you never see him sifting either, do you?” Erith countered, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

The remaining sifters packed the clearing and nearby alleyways between the tangle of ruins. A few final officers emerged from an alleyway, clearing the way for a carriage to join the other wagons.

The Warden concluded a hushed conversation with the older Surelian man, took a torch from a nearby officer, and stepped forward into the riverbed clearing.

“We’ve got food to pass around,” the Warden began, his voice firm, carrying easily through the clearing despite its calm tone. “Grab water from the river, set up your camp. No drills tomorrow. We eat, then make for Caldis Reach at dawn.”

He paused, glancing toward the Surelian officers before continuing. “Camp no more than two hundred paces from the barrier cart,” he added, his tone edged with the weight of routine.

“The Surelians have decided that, for the safety of our sifting operations, the Kaida provisions for the barrier cart have been doubled this season.” There was the faintest, nearly imperceptible sigh woven into his words, a rare hint of disagreement from a man so composed that no one missed it.

After a pause, his voice returned to its usual crisp authority. “We’ll follow our standard protocols—especially in terrain like this. If there’s Murasi or any other danger, you know the drill. Report it clearly. State your paces from the barrier cart, your location, and be precise. Your life depends on it.”

He squared his shoulders, his gaze sweeping the sifters. “Keep fires lit where possible. We wake at dawn.”

With that, the Warden gave a final nod, signaling the end of the briefing as sifters began moving to make camp.

The ancient city stirred briefly to life as the encampment spread out, sifters setting tents in the clearing and exploring nearby ruins for shelter. Erith and Elian made their way toward the river, eager to wash and gather water. As they neared the water’s edge, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd of sifters gathered along the riverbank.

Amaru stood quietly, his gaze shifting between the river and the pair. “Minisk is setting up a fire up the street,” he said softly, gesturing toward a partially intact building farther up a sloping path.

"Heard about your fall," Amaru added, his voice steady but with a faint trace of concern. “Minisk said to camp with us tonight. We can share supplies.”

Erith and Elian exchanged glances, and after a moment, Elian gave Amaru a nod and a small smile. Amaru returned the gesture and turned back toward the river.

“I’ll grab us some food. You go ahead and clean up, Erith,” Elian said, grinning. “I’ll meet you by the fire once I’ve dropped it off and rinsed off.”

As Erith began to turn, Elian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. “And, Erith? Try not to sneak off tonight. You really need a full night’s sleep for once.”

Erith made his way to the river, peeling off his clothes as he reached the bank. He frowned at the streaks of blood staining his shirt from the fall, wincing as he caught sight of the dark bruising and cut along his shoulder. The cold river water bit into his skin as he stepped in, but he forced himself to push through the shock, dipping beneath the surface to scrub away the dirt and sweat. Holding his shirt under the current, he watched the blood swirl away in the moonlit water.

Emerging from the river, Erith wrung out his damp clothes and glanced at the cut on his palm. Still tender, but compared to the aches rippling through his body, it felt manageable. After filling his canteen, he gathered his belongings and began making his way back to the spot Amaru had pointed out, the chill of the night air clinging to his wet skin.

The incline was gentle but steady as Erith followed the narrow alleyway between the ruined walls. Rounding a corner, he spotted the warm glow of a fire spilling from one of the archways in the building ahead. The flicker of light was a welcome sight against the encroaching darkness. He climbed the last few steps up the slope and entered the building, joining Minisk and Elian, who were already sitting by the crackling fire, its orange glow casting shadows on their tired faces.

Erith sat down by the fire, letting the warmth seep into his bones. Elian rummaged through his pack and handed Erith a change of undergarments along with some dried meat and a biscuit. Elian glanced at Erith's bruised shoulder, wincing slightly on his behalf. “You look rough, but at least you smell better,” he remarked with a smirk.

Minisk chimed in, glad to see Erith in one piece. “Yer a bit tougher than ya’ look,” Minisk added, nodding toward Erith’s bruises with an approving grunt. After a brief pause, Minisk stood up and stretched, his joints cracking from the day's wear. “S’pose we’ll head for a wash ourselves.”

Elian stood, following Minisk’s lead as he rolled his shoulders. “I’ll recount the paces while I’m at it,” he said, “Minisk counted one hundred and eight from the barrier cart. I’ll double-check it.”

With that, Elian and Minisk headed down toward the river, their forms disappearing into the darkness.

After Elian and Minisk returned from the river, the group gathered around the fire, warming themselves and drying their clothes, the sounds of the city settling for the night became more distant. Elian carefully cut a strip of cloth to wrap around Erith's wounded hand, the flickering light casting long shadows over their tired faces. The fire was set close to the entryway, its glow barely reaching the darkened corners of the crumbling room. Minisk and Amaru were speaking with Erith, their voices a mix of exhaustion and lightheartedness.

“Good thing then that pack flew off,” Minisk teased, nudging Erith with a grin. “That’d take you right over the edge with it. I’m sure you’re glad to be rid of it—you always hated setting that thing up.”

Erith managed a tired smirk. “Yeah, guess it did me a favor in the end.”

Amaru chuckled, shaking his head. “Good thing Elian’s quick on his feet. Not many would’ve dived after someone like that—let alone caught them.”

Minisk’s voice turned more genuine as he nodded toward his tent pack. “You and Elian’ve earned a bit of comfort tonight. Go on, Erith, pull out that canvas. You and Elian can use it for a sheet. After a day like today, we’ve all earned something softer to rest on.”

Minisk nodded toward his tent pack with a grin. “Go on, Erith, pull out that canvas. You and Elian can use it for a sheet. After a day like today, we’ve earned a bit of comfort, eh?”

Erith reached for the bag with a faint smile tugging at his lips. Just as his fingers brushed the canvas, his eyes caught movement. His heart lurched. A faceless figure crept silently through the entryway behind Minisk. Its form seemed woven from shifting strands of darkness, flickering like smoke. The air around it rippled unnaturally, distorting the space it passed through in subtle, unsettling waves.

"Murasi! Minisk!" Elian’s shout rang out, sharp with alarm.

The Murasi’s hand pierced through Minisk’s back, its long, jagged fingers cutting through his chest as though he were made of paper. Elian, frozen in shock, stood cornered beside him, with nowhere to back away.

"Murasi! One hundred and twenty paces west of the cart, in the building with the archways—up the alley on the ridge—!" Elian’s voice rang out, laced with panic, but before he could finish, the creature’s hand slashed across his throat. The words were abruptly silenced, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. Elian’s eyes widened in terror as he clutched his neck, his hand quickly soaked in blood.

Then the Murasi struck again, plunging its hand into Elian’s chest. Elian staggered backward, collapsing out of view as his body tumbled behind a mound of debris, swallowed by the uneven terrain of the room. All that remained visible was the lifeless sprawl of his arm amidst the scattered stones.

“Elian..” Erith’s voice caught in his throat as he struggled to process the chaos. Amaru lunged for one of the swords nearby, but before he could grip the hilt, the Murasi cut him down with a single, devastating swipe.

Erith began shouting what Elian had tried to report, desperately repeating the paces and their location. His voice cracked with panic as the Murasi closed in on him, its dark form looming over him as he stumbled back, his foot catching on loose stone. He fell into the corner with his back pressing against the cold wall. Erith's heart thundered in his chest as the creature raised its arm, preparing to strike him down. The world around him seemed to slow.

In that moment, with a sharp inhale, Erith forced his panic into fleeting serenity. He lunged his hand upward, catching the Murasi’s wrist mid-swing. The smoky tendrils swirling from the creature shifted, as though drawn toward Erith’s grip. With his other hand, he pressed firmly against its chest, an unseen force radiating from his palm into the dark strands that made up its form. 

Erith's eyes locked with the faceless creature, faint distortions mirroring its smoky form reverberated within his pupils. Slowly, the threads began to unravel, the creature’s body dissolving into the air.

The Murasi disintegrated completely, leaving only a brief silence in its wake.

Erith frantically scanned the room, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps he couldn’t control. Minisk lay motionless, a dark pool spreading beneath him, while Amaru slumped nearby, his body still and lifeless. Shouts echoed from the streets outside, faint and distant, like the rumble of a faraway storm.

Trembling, Erith crawled toward where Elian had fallen. His chest tightened as he fought to hold back tears, dreading the sight he knew awaited him. Please, Elian... Slowly, he peered over the uneven debris, his heart sinking as he saw Elian’s motionless body, sprawled on the ground.

Before he could react further, the side of the building wretched and crumbled, ripped apart by an enormous force. The blow sent debris flying, exposing a monstrous Murasi that towered over Erith. Its distorted, giant form stood as tall as the building itself, flickering with the same ashen gray and deep purple energy that made up the smaller Murasi. It wound up for another strike, easily tearing through the stone around it.

Erith stood paralyzed in terror as he stared up at the giant Murasi. There’s no way. The sheer size of the creature overwhelmed him, panic clawing at the edges of his mind. His breathing grew ragged and shallow, every muscle screaming at him to move, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The massive claw swung down toward him, a blur of dark energy.

In that instant, something inside him shifted. Panic surged, colliding with a sudden, desperate clarity. Erith raised his hands, covering the sides of his head. His mind veered to Elian’s warm laughter. Before he could even grasp it, the world erupted into a blinding flash of light.

The impact came before he could fully comprehend what had happened. His body was violently flung through the air, caught in a whirlwind of stone and shattered debris. His chest tightened as the force of the throw stole the air from his lungs. The world blurred around him as he hurtled toward the remaining stone wall.

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