3.

  Faelwen

  The air felt thick with a strange warmth as we descended deeper into the mountain. Elora’s voice, barely a whisper, cut through the silence. “Is it just me, or is it getting warmer?” Her words seemed to linger in the damp air, merging with the sound of our footsteps on the stone steps.

  Spook’s voice, playful as always, echoed in response. “Is it getting too hot for you, Princess?”

  I could almost hear the mischievous grin in his tone, though the darkness swallowed his form.

  Elora’s laugh was light, teasing. “You wish for me to take something off, human boy?”

  Spook huffed, his annoyance palpable, even without seeing him. “I’m no boy,” he muttered again, and I could hear the smile tugging at his lips despite his words.

  I shook my head, a quiet smile breaking through my own tension. But before any of us could continue our banter, the path ahead opened up into something far grander.

  The tunnel ended abruptly, and we stepped into an open expanse. The air was cooler here, a subtle shift that did little to quell the heat we’d felt earlier. My breath caught. The chamber before us was vast, a cavern so wide it seemed to stretch on forever. An underground lake spread out like a pool of liquid obsidian, its surface still and black, reflecting faint glimmers of an unseen light above.

  Stalagmites and stalactites hung from the high ceiling and jutted from the floor like jagged teeth, their surfaces shimmering in the pale, ethereal light that bathed the cavern. The source of the light was elusive, but it bathed the walls in a soft, otherworldly glow, causing every gemstone embedded in the rock to sparkle as if they were stars themselves, glinting with forgotten secrets.

  I felt something shift in the air, an unseen presence. It was Artemis, his voice sudden and sharp in my mind. Wait! The command resonated with urgency, an unmistakable warning.

  I froze mid-step, every instinct screaming at me to stop. “Something is here,” I hissed, my voice barely a breath. The others followed my lead, their eyes scanning the dark, alert and wary.

  Out of the shadows, emerging from the depths of the cavern like a figure from a dream, a slender elf appeared. His dark blue robes seemed to shimmer with the lake’s reflection, the fabric rippling as if alive. In his hand, he held a long wooden staff crowned with a deep blue gem that pulsed softly in the darkness. His long, thick black hair was pulled back at the top and hang loose around his shoulders, framing a face so striking it almost looked unreal.

  His violet eyes, deep and knowing, locked onto us, narrowing as though calculating every movement, every breath we took. His olive skin was flawless, almost too perfect, like the carved visage of some long-forgotten deity. His lips were thin, pressed together in a sharp line.

  The air around us thickened. A strange energy hummed beneath my skin, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. Artemis’ growl filled my thoughts, a low rumble of warning. Be careful, Wen. He’s not what he seems.

  I swallowed, stepping forward. “I did not expect another elf down here,” I murmured softly, my words in the common tongue so Spook would understand.

  The elf’s violet eyes flicked to me, a flicker of something, amusement or disdain, passing through them. “And I did not expect a group of foolisssh adventurersss down here,” he responded, his voice thick with a strange accent, each word hissing like a serpent’s tongue.

  I tensed. The way he spoke, it was almost as if he wasn’t quite so elvish as he looked.

  Artemis’ voice echoed once more, sharper now confirming my suspicion. This is no ordinary elf. His magic is strong.

  I thought so, I send back to him.

  “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My heart raced, my palms sweaty in the cool, musty air.

  The elf tilted his head, his gaze piercing through me. “I could asssk you the sssame, halfling,” he hissed back. The word halfling cut through the air like a blade, and I felt Ash tense beside me, his fists clenching. The tension in the space grew thicker, pressing down on us like the weight of a storm cloud.

  I narrowed my eyes, refusing to be baited. “It’s like you said. We’re adventurers, exploring these tunnels,” I lied, my voice steady despite the gnawing sense of dread crawling up my spine.

  The elf’s lips curled into a thin smile, the expression both knowing and mocking. “Liar,” he said slowly, his voice a low, dangerous hiss.

  I felt my stomach twist in panic, my pulse quickening. “You are not here to explore. And you are no adventurers,” he continued, his gaze piercing through me like a blade.

  The magic in the air began to shift, subtle at first, but now unmistakable. A palpable pressure that thrummed against my skin, suffocating and heavy. Artemis’ low growl echoed in my mind, his body coiled, ready to strike.

  The elf’s eyes never left me. “You knew my name. Otherwise, you couldn’t have come down here,” he said slowly, each word deliberate, as if peeling away our layers of deceit.

  There was no hiding anymore. I could feel the weight of our secret bearing down on us, the truth impossible to ignore. I took a deep breath and faced him, my voice firm despite the flutter of uncertainty in my chest. “Fine,” I said. “We’re not here to explore. We’re here with a goal. We need to find the dragon and take the Runestone he’s protecting.”

  The elf’s violet eyes flicked to the ground for a moment, and I caught a flash of suspicion. “Why would you need the Runessstone?” he asked, his tone laced with distrust.

  Elora stepped forward, her voice cold, sharp as a blade. “Have you been so long underground you haven’t heard of the Fiend? The one who threatens the very fabric of this world?”

  The elf’s expression soured, irritation rippling across his features. “Why would I bother with a war between humansss and the darknesss from the underworld?” he scoffed.

  Elora’s eyes flashed, her patience thinning. “Because we’re next,” she hissed, her voice laced with raw emotion. “When the Fiend is done with the humans, he will come for us all. And he will not stop.”

  The elf’s face twisted, a bitter sneer pulling at his lips. “I have seen nations fall and rise, elfchild. It’s the natural order of things. So why should I give you the one thing I have sworn to protect with my very life?” His voice rang with finality, his words cutting deeper than any sword.

  Artemis’ voice, reverberated through my mind, though it seemed as if what Artemis said wasn’t meant for me. If the Fiend takes over the Mid Realm, the balance between order and chaos will be lost. The world will change… not for the better.

  The elf’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a snarl as he shot Artemis a venomous glare. “I made a promise to my maker,” he growled. “I will not forsake it. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

  I froze, a cold knot forming in my stomach. The air felt thick with magic, and the weight of his words hung heavy in the chamber. It was then that I realized, the elf could hear Artemis. He could hear Artemis and had responded to him verbally. Not only that. He said he was the protector of the runestone.

  The tension in the room reached its breaking point, a silent crack in the air. Elora’s voice rang out, harsh and determined. “Then you’ll have to die with your treasure, elf.” Her hand went to her sword, and the faint sound of metal scraping against leather filled the space.

  But before anyone could move, a sudden burst of magic pulsing through the chamber like an earthquake, sending ripples across the lake’s surface. “No!” My voice was frantic, desperate. A strange, unfamiliar magic crawled along my skin, filling the room with an ominous hum.

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  Something was about to happen. And I had a good idea what this magic would do.

  The elf cracked his neck with an unsettling, deliberate ease. “Very well,” he uttered, his voice as calm as the stillness before a storm. A sudden chill swept through the air, and a white mist began to swirl around him, thickening as it cloaked his form. His body trembled, as if fighting against some unseen force.

  Then, in the blink of an eye, the transformation began. His limbs elongated, and his olive skin rippled like liquid as scales began to sprout in shimmering swirls across his body. His fingers stretched into claws, his spine arched, and a massive tail unfurled behind him with a crack that echoed through the cavernous space.

  Before us, a shape of pure nightmare took form, Syltharin Duskflame, a dragon of ancient terror, his dark blue scales gleaming under the dim light. My suspicion was proven. His massive wings unfurled with a sound like thunder, and the air around us seemed to crackle with the weight of his presence. The runestone embedded in his chest pulsed ominously.

  We had no time to react.

  Syltharin roared, a deep, guttural sound that rattled our bones. He lunged forward, his great paw slamming down onto the ground with such force that the very earth shuddered beneath us. We barely managed to dive to the side, and the ground trembled as the shockwave rippled through the air. Elora was first to recover, rolling onto her back before springing to her feet with the grace of a predator. Her sword gleamed in the dim light, and with a battle cry, she dashed at the dragon’s leg, swinging with all her might. The blade struck, leaving a faint, insignificant cut across the thick hide of Syltharin’s leg. It barely registered. The dragon didn’t even flinch.

  Spook, quick as ever, darted past me, a blur of motion. He slid beneath the dragon’s immense head, his daggers flashing as he struck at the softer underbelly. The dragon howled in fury, a sound that tore through the very air. Syltharin whipped his tail around with terrifying speed, aiming to crush Spook under its weight. Spook leapt, rolling to the side just inches from the tail’s strike. His movements were a blur, too fast for the dragon to follow.

  Ash, meanwhile, stood still, his eyes closed in concentration. He murmured dark words of dark power, and from the shadows, wraiths began to materialize. Their ethereal forms twisted and shrieked as they swarmed toward Syltharin, claws slashing at the air, their hunger for the dragon palpable.

  I felt the warmth of Artemis’s presence beside me. You can do more than you think, Wen, his voice was a quiet whisper in my mind, urging me forward. I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as I closed my eyes and focused. The battle raged around me, the sounds of steel clashing, the roars of the dragon, and the shrieks of the wraiths, faded into the background as I centered myself.

  The air shimmered with magic, the very atmosphere thick with energy. My chest burned with the warmth of my own power, a pulse of energy flowing through me like an electric current. Slowly, with excruciating focus, I extended my hand toward the dragon, visualizing the current of lightning surging from me into Syltharin.

  When I opened my eyes, the air crackled, and a bolt of raw, unbridled electricity shot from my fingers, arcing toward the dragon. Syltharin’s violet eyes locked onto mine, and he hissed, his voice reverberating in my bones. “Wrong choice of magic, halfling.”

  His voice was thunder, his words a warning that carried the weight of centuries.

  Time slowed. I could feel the tension crackle in the air. My electrical bolt gliding over his scales without doing so much as a scratch of damage. The dragon inhaled deeply, his chest glowing with a menacing light. The magic was building, and I knew what was coming. Horror surged through me as I realized what Syltharin was about to unleash. He moved his head to Ash.

  “Ash!” I screamed, my voice hoarse and filled with dread.

  I began to run, but the world around me moved in slow motion. My feet felt like lead, my thoughts scrambled as I tried to recall any spell, any shield that could protect him. But nothing came to mind.

  Ash saw the danger just as clearly. He snapped his focus away from the wraiths, his hands outstretched in a desperate plea for protection. In that moment, the wraiths lost their focus, attacking anything within reach, including Elora, Spook, and Artemis. The air was thick with chaos.

  In the same heartbeat, Ash conjured a shimmering barrier of light, just as the dragon unleashed a torrent of pure, violent magic. A blast of electric blue energy, infused with the heat of fire, surged toward us. The impact was catastrophic. I was thrown back, my body flung like a ragdoll, crashing into the cold, icy waters with a sickening splash. The world around me spun, darkened, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The sharp taste of cold water filled my mouth, choking me, until something grabbed my leg and pulled me from the freezing depths.

  Artemis’s voice cut through the fog of my dazed senses. “Ash!,” I coughed up water. Not now, Wen. We’ll find him when this is over.

  Coughing violently, I struggled to breathe. My heart pounding. “Is he alive?” My voice was barely a whisper, cracked and hoarse.

  We don’t have time! Artemis growled, his tone sharp with urgency. He didn’t wait for me to respond, grabbing my bow and nudging me to my feet. My body protested the movement, but there was no time for weakness.

  I took up my bow, gritting my teeth against the pain in my chest and the pressure in my head. With trembling hands, I nocked an arrow and aimed. My magic flared around the shaft, swirling into the bowstring, imbuing the arrow with my power. I released it, and the arrow flew straight and true, sinking deep into the dragon’s chest. The dragon roared in fury, but the damage was done. A part of his body froze instantly, encased in thick, glittering ice.

  But there was no time to celebrate.

  Syltharin’s mouth opened in a terrible snarl as a wraith appeared before him, lunging for his throat. He snapped his jaws shut around the wraith, tearing it to pieces with one devastating bite. At the same moment, Spook, nimble as ever, had climbed onto the dragon’s back, moving with deadly precision across its massive form. He planted two daggers into the dragon’s skull with terrifying accuracy. Syltharin shook his head violently, throwing Spook to the side like a ragdoll.

  “Spook! Watch out!” Elora cried, her voice sharp with fear.

  The dragon croaked something in a language older than time, and suddenly, crackling electric energy surged across his body. Spook barely avoided the strike, but the dragon’s tail lashed out, slamming into him with a sickening crack. Spook crumpled to the ground, his body falling limp, and I felt my heart stop in my chest.

  “No!” Elora screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she cut down the last of the wraiths who had turned against us when Ash lost his concentration. She charged at Syltharin with a fury, her sword raised high.

  The dragon muttered another incantation, his ancient language weaving in the air, a storm of magic gathering in his wake. I knelt, my eyes closed in concentration. I could feel the presence of my friends, their pain, their fear, their power. Ash’s weak form slumped against the wall, Spook’s broken body near the water, Elora’s determined spirit locked in battle with the dragon, and Artemis, steady and unwavering, by Ash’s side.

  Then, memories flooded me. Lessons with Aeon Tempus, teachings on harnessing the magic that lay all around us. It was everywhere, filling every breath, every movement. I reached out, opened myself to it, and felt the magic surge through me like a tidal wave.

  With every ounce of strength, I summoned a shield, a dome of protection to cover my friends. My body burned with the effort, the magic draining me, but I held it firm. I could feel the thunder of the dragon’s magic coming down on my shield, the pressure of it bearing down on me, but I refused to falter.

  A scream tore itself from my throat as I struggled to hold the shields. The electric energy and fire crashed against my defences, sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I was on the edge of breaking, my mind fracturing under the weight of it, when I finally heard the release. The pressure vanished.

  But I was spent. Blood trickled from my nose and ears as I slumped to the ground, every inch of me screaming in agony.

  “Wen!” Elora’s voice was a distant cry.

  And then, Artemis’s voice, sharp and clear in my mind. Hold on!

  But it was all slipping away. The world dimmed, and the last thing I felt was the cold grip of darkness pulling me under.

  ? ? ?

  Elora

  The magical shields shimmered once more, frail ripples of light in the darkened air, before they vanished with a brittle crackle. Faelwen collapsed to the cold stone floor, her face as white as bone. A sickening wave of helplessness curled through me like smoke. A low, guttural chuckle rolled through the cavern. “Tell me, little elfling,” Syltharin’s voice slithered through the shadows, rich with dark amusement. His midnight blue scales gleamed as his serpentine head lowered toward me. “Are you ready to sssurrender?”

  I gritted my teeth, the sharp taste of blood on my tongue. “If I surrender now, I might as well hand my life over to the Fiend!” I snapped, my pulse hammering in my ears.

  With a battle cry tearing from my throat, I surged forward, my sword flashing in the dim light. Syltharin’s massive front paw slammed down with bone-crushing force, but I darted left, the wind from the impact searing my cheek. His head snapped toward me, jagged rows of gleaming white teeth unfurling as his maw yawned wide. Deep within that gaping darkness, a searing blue-silver light pulsed. A crackling bolt of raw magic streaked toward me.

  I threw myself to the side. Heat singed my arm as the bolt exploded into the ground behind me, scattering shards of stone. Before I could regain my footing, I sprang upward, sword raised high. Every muscle in my body screamed as I brought the blade down on his leg with all the strength I could muster.

  The sword bit deep. Blood, black and shimmering like liquid obsidian, burst from the wound. Syltharin let out a deafening roar that rattled my bones and sent cracks spiderwebbing across the floor. His colossal wings flared wide, the downdraft knocking me off balance.

  Before I could recover, his massive claw shot forward. Pain blossomed through my ribs as he closed his iron grip around my torso and lifted me effortlessly into the air. My sword slipped from my hand, clattering uselessly to the stone below. My breath caught as his talons crushed tighter.

  “A…Artemis!” I screamed, my voice ragged with pain.

  Below, Artemis stood, muscles tense beneath his sleek, brown fur. His golden eyes, steady and ancient, met mine. He didn’t move, his gaze calm even as my vision blurred with pain. It was as though he was telling me: You’ll be fine.

  But I wasn’t fine. The dragon’s claw squeezed harder, and my scream tore through the cavern. My vision darkened at the edges. “Artemis!” I gasped, barely a whisper now. And then… the dragon’s grip loosened. I fell. The impact knocked the air from my lungs as Syltharin’s paw slammed into the cold stone floor next to me. My head struck hard, and pain screamed through my skull. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I could barely breathe. A warm breath brushed my cheek. Artemis’s nose nudged my temple. His scent, a mix of forest and frost, grounded me. His golden gaze hovered above me, calm as moonlight. And then he was gone. Above me, Syltharin’s pupils narrowed to black slits. His forked tongue flicked across his teeth. “It can’t be,” he hissed, a note of fear curling beneath the words. His wings trembled. Darkness surged up from the depths of my mind, dragging me under as Syltharin’s cold whisper echoed in my ears.