“So, I’m thinking we push this angle for the next marketing campaign. The public is already in love with the design of the protagonist, so we should show the care we’ve put into her interactions with the NPCs. Especially this one.”

  Ariel set her pack down at the fissure’s edge and drew out one of the gifted seeds. She held it in her palm, whispering to it softly before pressing it into the cracked earth. Her staff pulsed once, the green light threading over her fingers, and the ground trembled as a thick vine surged upward. It twisted into a long, sturdy length that dangled into the depths like a living rope, anchoring itself with coils that bit deep into the rock. Ariel gave it a tug, testing the strength, and the vine groaned but held. It felt alive, strong as any bridge she could have carved from stone.

  Fornaskr adjusted the weight of his pack and stepped forward first. The vine seemed to sense his weight and shaped ridges beneath his boots, like steps meant only for him. He descended steadily, his form vanishing into the darkness below. Ariel followed, the red panda padding anxiously at the fissure’s edge. She hesitated, looking up at it. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you behind.”

  At her thought, the vine curled upward, weaving itself into a cradle that scooped the creature gently from the ground. It gave a startled chirp but did not resist as the living tendril lowered it carefully, swaying slightly until it reached the cavern floor. Ariel smiled in relief and continued her descent, her staff floating nearby, casting its glow across the jagged walls.

  The cavern below opened wide, jagged obsidian veins running like scars across its walls. The light from her staff reflected in fractured glimmers, catching on sharp planes like shattered glass. The air was still, almost suffocating, and the silence pressed heavy. Ariel’s boots struck uneven ground littered with small fragments of stone. The creature bounded in small circles around her feet, tail flicking, before darting ahead and back as if impatient to lead the way.

  Her staff pulsed, green runes glowing brighter, and Ariel felt the tug in her chest—a compass pointing them forward. Fornaskr fell in beside her, his eyes sharp as they scanned the cavernous dark. “The staff leads you. What do you think waits at the end of this path?”

  “The heart,” Ariel said quietly, her throat tight with both fear and anticipation. “Whatever sustains this island. Whatever is being strangled. It’s close—I can feel it.”

  They pressed deeper, the red panda darting ahead before circling back, sometimes leaping to catch shadows thrown by her staff’s glow. The sound of its paws on stone was the only relief from the oppressive silence. Ariel found herself grateful for the noise, small though it was, something living to remind her she was not walking through the domain of the dead.

  The tunnel narrowed and widened again, revealing chambers where cooled magma had hardened into waves of stone frozen mid-motion. She trailed her hand across the surface as they passed, her palm brushing over ripples as though she were feeling the memory of fire itself. “It’s like time was stopped,” she murmured. “All this should be heat and light. Instead it’s… frozen.”

  Her companion chirped softly, hopping onto one of the blackened ridges and sniffing curiously. Ariel smiled faintly despite the tension in her chest. “Even you can tell it’s wrong, can’t you?”

  They continued until the walls drew upward and the cavern widened into a vast central chamber. The sight stopped Ariel in her tracks, breath leaving her in a quiet gasp. The glow of her staff spilled across the immense space, and the shadows it uncovered made her chest ache.

  In the very center stood a colossal stone of black obsidian, the air around it thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and old ash. A faint metallic tang lingered as if the rust of its chains flavored the atmosphere. Now and again the silence broke with the creak of a chain shifting, or the distant drip of condensed moisture falling from unseen heights. The cool air brushed against their skin not with relief, but with a clammy weight that clung to every breath.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The surface of the obsidian stone glinted faintly in the green light. It was not loose rock. It was bound in place, wrapped in dozens upon dozens of iron chains. They stretched out like webbing, vanishing into the walls and floor where they were anchored deep. All around the core, massive gears and pillars of a rusted mechanism rose half-buried in hardened flows of magma, like the bones of some ancient machine meant to keep the heart imprisoned.

  Ariel took a halting step forward, awe and dread intermingling. “This… this has to be it,” she whispered. “The heart.”

  The red-furred creature padded to her side, sitting back on its haunches. Its mismatched eyes gleamed as if it, too, recognized something more than stone. Ariel reached down absently, running her hand over its fur, the tremor in her touch betraying the shiver that passed through her body.

  Fornaskr did not look at the heart. His gaze swept the edges of the chamber, narrowing. “Ariel,” he said slowly. “Look.”

  She followed his gaze and her stomach dropped. All around the chamber, pressed against walls and half-encircled near the heart itself, stood dozens of figures. At first glance she thought them statues carved of ash, humanoid but alien in posture, their features sharp and unfamiliar. Her steps carried her forward despite herself. The creature padded after her, ears twitching, but kept close to her heel.

  Ariel reached out to the nearest figure and let her fingers brush its face. The texture made her heart lurch. Something firmer than stone, yet soft in ways that could not be mistaken.

  “They’re not statues,” she whispered. “They’re… they’re people.”

  The creature chirped softly, lowering itself against her boot, as if sensing her sudden unease. She knelt, stroking its head before standing again, her eyes darting between the frozen figures.

  Fornaskr came closer, his face grim. “I know of no other civilization here. But if there were such a people… they may have been lost to Oblivion.”

  Ariel’s throat tightened as she moved from one figure to another. None bore the twisted mask of fear. Instead, their faces were calm, set in grim lines of resolve, or defiance, as though they had faced this fate willingly.

  “They knew,” she breathed. “They knew this would happen.” Her fingers trembled as she traced one figure’s jaw, the quiet weight of history pressing down on her.

  “And they didn’t run.”

  The creature leapt onto a stone near the obsidian heart, its tiny claws clicking against the surface. It tilted its head at the great bound core, almost curious. Ariel followed its gaze, her stomach churning. The whole chamber felt suffocating, heavy with silence that was not simply emptiness but remembrance, as though the air itself remembered the voices of those who had stood here and fallen silent.

  She wanted to linger, to puzzle over these figures, to honor them somehow. But before she could step closer, the ground rumbled. A low grinding sound rolled through the chamber, echoing in the hollow spaces of the mechanism. The red panda darted back to her side with a startled chirp, tail bristling.

  Heavy footsteps followed, slow but inexorable, scraping against stone. The sound of chains dragging across the ground filled the chamber, reverberating like the weight of memory itself. Ariel turned, staff snapping to her hand, eyes wide.

  The chamber seemed to react first: the floor trembled, fine dust trickling from the ceiling, and several of the chains binding the heart rattled ominously as if stirred by some unseen force. The grinding grew louder until it resolved into footsteps, heavy and deliberate, dragging with each pace.

  Then, from the far passage, emerged a hulking figure. Gaunt and sickly, its flesh pale as ash, its armor collapsed and rusted against its frame. Its clouded eyes gleamed faintly in the glow, sightless but aware. In its hands it dragged a colossal hammer, the rusted head screeching as it scraped along the stone floor.

  Fornaskr’s voice was low as he unsheathed his daggers. “Dreyfa.”

  Ariel’s breath hitched, her staff pulsing with light. She shifted her stance, the red panda growling softly at her heel.

  Dreyfa the Burdened had come to stand before the heart.