At the end of the street, Aldasi simply stopped—and the Darkwood rose.

Tree trunks as thick as watchtowers loomed over the last row of buildings, their canopy swallowing the early-afternoon light that dared press beneath it. Only the Darkwood could make the sprawling capital of Aldarath feel small.

A faint haze drifted between the trees, touched by the sun’s glow. Yet even the light seemed to falter at the forest’s edge, as if it could go no farther.

At the base of the trees, a narrow stretch of cobblestone ran where the city streets ended. Market stalls lined the road, their canvas awnings stirring gently in the breeze.

Maeric stepped out onto the cobblestone, his gaze catching on a Kaida barrier garrison at the end of the street.

The structure was older than the surrounding row, its stone worn and split where centuries of weather had worked through it. Rusted casings bound the barrier into place, yet the gemstone walls of the container remained as if untouched by time.

Within its depth, faint filaments drifted like threads beneath glass, pulsing softly with a quiet, steady light.

Ranoric followed his eyes. “It’s the only barrier within the city walls—outside of the royal grounds.”

Maeric’s gaze had already drifted past the stalls, past the cobblestone, into the darkness. “The Darkwood is a city wall. You’d be better off laying siege to the gates than trying to come through here.”

Ranoric turned toward him, unable to fully dampen the hesitation in his voice. “Are you sure—”

But Maeric had already stepped forward, weaving through the crowded market and slipping between the stalls.

Ranoric didn’t move.

A knot twisted in his stomach. He glanced back toward the city, then shook his head and hurried after Maeric.

As he passed the last of the stalls, the chatter of the market had almost fallen away entirely.

There was nothing left before them but the Darkwood.

Shadow had already begun to claim Maeric, swallowing him piece by piece as he pressed forward between the trees.

For a while, they said nothing.

The Darkwood offered no response.

Only their boots trudging through the dirt and their breath hitching as they searched for footing in the dark disturbed the forest’s eerie quiet.

The faint light barely held to Maeric’s figure ahead as he pressed a hand against the rising slope.

His footing slipped.

He went down hard, catching against a vast root that jutted from the earth.

Maeric ignored the hand Ranoric extended him, pulling himself up on his own and brushing moss from his palms. He reached for his torch at his belt, his other hand searching a pouch for his striker.

Ranoric caught his shoulder just before he could light it. “I don’t know what that would invite,” he said quietly.

He nodded ahead, toward a stretch of darkness that didn’t seem as deep as the rest. “Besides… that’s not where we came in from.”

They moved toward it, and the darkness began to thin.

At first, faint strands of light slipped between the trunks, but with each step, the forest shifted.

The trees no longer pressed as tightly together. Breaks formed in the canopy above, letting narrow shafts of light fall to the forest floor.

Vines crept along the bark. Low growth began to push through the moss and roots beneath their feet.

They passed an old stone obelisk, fractured clean through its center, the upper half long since fallen and half-swallowed by the earth.

Ahead, in a haze of pale light, the forest floor gave way to stone.

A structure emerged from the growth, its surface entwined with vines and vegetation—but it did not stand alone.

Half-buried pillars and weathered stone shapes rose from the earth around it, as if the crown of something vast was all that breached the surface, the rest swallowed by time and nature.

Neither spoke.

Ranoric stepped forward first, drawn toward the mossy slope that led up to a darkened opening at the front of the structure.

Maeric’s fingers tightened around the torch at his side as he followed close behind.

The air shifted as they neared the entrance. Damp earth and stone carried through the cool air as they stepped into the ruin’s shadow.

A narrow passage dipped inward. Maeric knelt, pressing himself low, peering into the darkness ahead.

“I don’t care what we invite,” Maeric scoffed, rummaging for the striker. “I’d rather see what kills me than die stumbling in the dark.”

He lit the torch and gestured it toward Ranoric, who lit his as well.

Maeric unsheathed the dagger at his belt, placing the blade between his teeth before carefully lowering himself into the crevice.

The stone glistened as the torchlight flickered around them. He pushed forward on his hands, carrying the flame ahead of him as the passage slowly widened. The earth pulled back from the ceiling as they moved, until the slope suddenly steepened.

The drop forced them to brace as they slid steadily downward until their feet met a stone stairway and the passageway opened.

They paused at the threshold.

The space beneath was enormous.

A great circular opening in the ceiling had long since broken away, its edges cracked and overgrown. Vines spilled through the gap, reaching toward the floor below, where pale sunlight reflected in a shallow pool at the base of fractured stone and moss.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

When they reached the base of the stairs, Maeric capped his torch, glancing up toward the light above. “Let’s cover as much as we can while we still have the light. You take that side.”

Ranoric nodded, and they searched in silence.

Light drifted across the surface of the pool as time passed.

Ranoric eventually sank down against a fractured slab of stone, stretching his legs out across the moss. Maeric crossed the room, still searching.

“We’ll need to relight the torches soon,” Ranoric said, lifting his head. “We should head back before there’s no light left to follow.”

“We marked the trees,” Maeric said, distracted.

Ranoric watched him for a moment. “Are you planning on staying here all night?”

Maeric didn’t stop. “I’m getting Faerin’s crest back, Ranoric. I won’t let them push us around—even if you’re fine with it.”

“You won’t find it here.”

Maeric’s steps faltered. He turned sharply. “How do you know that?”

Ranoric’s hand stilled against the moss. For a moment, he didn’t look at him.

“Because I took it.”

The words landed heavier than the silence that followed.

Maeric stared at him. Anger rose first—sharp and immediate—then faltered into confusion.

“They take it all the time,” Ranoric cut in as Maeric opened his mouth. “And you don’t see them getting in trouble for it.”

Maeric furrowed his brow. He kicked at the dirt, sending loose stone across the floor.

“Why the hell did you let me come down here, then?”

Ranoric shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d do it. Come this far, I mean. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Maeric didn’t answer.

He turned and walked away, toward a partially collapsed passage where water trickled down a shallow set of broken steps.

As he swung back to shout, his footing gave out beneath him.

He went down hard, sliding backward, then dropped.

Stone cracked beneath him as he hit, tumbling through loose rock and dirt. The ground gave way entirely, dragging him down more hidden steps as debris collapsed with him.

He slammed into the floor below.

Dust burst into the air. Smaller stones clattered and settled around him.

“Maeric!” Ranoric’s voice was muffled, distant.

The torch still burned where it had fallen nearby, its light flickering against the chamber walls.

Maeric pushed himself up, coughing, grabbing for the torch and raising it—

–and froze.

Dozens of skeletons were strewn across the chamber floor. Some slumped against the walls. Others lay collapsed in place, as though they had fallen where they stood.

The nearest sat upright against a stone slab in the center of the chamber, its hand still wrapped around a clay tablet.

“Maeric!”

A stone tumbled from above.

“I’m alright, Rani!” he called, pulling the clay tablet from the hand of the skeleton, though his voice caught. “This place is—”

He stopped.

Something moved.

In the far corner, a tall shadow pulled free from the darkness, its form made of twisting tendrils that coiled into themselves.

It stepped forward.

“Ranoric!” Maeric shouted, scrambling back on his hands. “Murasi—I can’t—I can’t find my dagger!”

He clambered up the mound of loose earth, toward the blockage. Above him, stone scraped against stone as Ranoric fought to clear the opening.

The Murasi moved without sound, inching its way closer.

Maeric clawed at the stones, trying to make space. “Please Rani—almost—”

He looked back.

Tears streaked through the dirt on his face.

“I’m trying!” Ranoric shouted, straining against a larger stone.

The Murasi reached out toward Maeric.

A faint wisp of light shimmered into existence between them.

The creature recoiled, pulling back its claw.

The stone above gave way.

Ranoric reached through the opening, grabbing Maeric and hauling him upward as the ground shifted beneath them.

They scrambled back, dragging a slab of stone into place, sealing the opening as the last of the loose earth collapsed behind it.

Maeric was doubled over as Ranoric’s chest heaved.

“You took father’s gem?” Maeric said between choked breaths.

“He doesn’t need it in the city—” A small, ornately carved Kaida gem dangled from a chain around Ranoric’s neck. His eyes flicked toward the sealed hole before he tucked it back behind his tunic. “I didn’t know what we’d find in here.”

Then he pointed toward the clay tablet still clenched in Maeric’s hand. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know… I—”

His voice faltered.

He stared at the markings etched into its surface.

Ranoric stepped closer, leaning in.

The word stood out immediately.

“Estorath.”

✦☽✧❖⨁☼✺☼⨁❖✧☽✦