The molten depths of the volcanic ravine pulsed like the heartbeat of Aetheris itself, casting a hellish red glow onto the jagged rocks that lined its edges. The air was thick with sulfur, each breath burning like fire in their lungs. The group paused at the edge, the oppressive heat and looming silence making even Kael hesitate.
"We camp here," Sylvia declared, her wings shimmering faintly as she surveyed the ravine. Her voice carried the authority of someone used to being obeyed. "The ravine is dangerous enough in the light. Crossing it in the dark would be suicide."
Kael grunted, his amber eyes scanning the molten abyss below. "Fine. But let’s make it quick. I don’t like staying in one place too long."
James nodded, dropping his pack to the ground and pulling out his tools. "I can set up some alarms," he offered, trying to keep his voice steady. The fight with the molten serpent had rattled him more than he cared to admit, and the idea of rest was tempting.
Elyndor, however, stood apart from the group, his staff planted firmly into the cracked earth. His golden eyes flickered with annoyance, the faint green glow of his spirits swirling around him. "Resting here is a mistake," he said, his voice calm but edged with impatience. "We’re too exposed. If we’re going to find the source of this power, we need to keep moving."
Sylvia turned to him, her gaze sharp. "We’ve been fighting nonstop since we arrived in this infernal place. Even with the runestones, our bodies can only take so much."
Elyndor’s lips curled in distaste, but he said nothing more. He simply turned away, his staff glowing faintly as he muttered to his spirits. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, but the others were too exhausted to address it.
Shadows in the Night
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The camp was quiet save for the distant hiss of molten rivers below. James had rigged a few of his rune-etched gadgets around their perimeter, the faint hum of protective wards a small comfort against the ever-present sense of dread. Sylvia stood watch, her luminous wings dimmed to avoid drawing attention, while the others rested in uneasy silence.
Elyndor sat apart from the group, his golden eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the campfire. His hand brushed over his staff, his connection to the spirits growing stronger in the oppressive heat. This mission was not meant for camaraderie. His orders had been clear.
Eliminate them all.
His master’s voice echoed in his mind, calm and commanding. "The other champions will only slow you down. Their weaknesses will jeopardize the mission. The source must be dealt with at all costs."
Elyndor’s gaze flicked toward Thrain, the dwarf snoring lightly with his hammer resting across his chest. Then to Kael, whose claws twitched even in sleep, his body coiled like a spring. Sylvia stood at the edge of the camp, her back to him, her wings glowing faintly in the dark. James was hunched over his tools, his quiet mutterings the only sound.
They were strong, yes. But predictable. And predictable could be exploited.
With a whisper, Elyndor called upon his spirits, their ethereal forms swirling around him like mist. He sent them forward, their shapes dissolving into the shadows as they moved toward Kael and Thrain.
+
Kael’s ears twitched, his eyes snapping open as a faint rustling reached him. He sat up, claws flexing as he scanned the darkness. The camp was still, save for the flicker of firelight. But something felt off. His instincts screamed at him to move.
Then he saw her.
"Mother?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
A shadowed figure stood just beyond the edge of the firelight, her form familiar, her amber eyes glowing softly. Kael’s breath hitched. He hadn’t seen her since the day she’d vanished in the Ashen Forest, taken by the very beasts they were trained to fight.
He rose slowly, claws lowering as he took a step forward. "How… how are you here?"
The figure turned and began to walk away, her movements slow, almost beckoning. Without a second thought, Kael followed, his heart hammering in his chest.
+
Thrain stirred moments later, his keen senses picking up on the absence of Kael’s presence. He grunted, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. The oppressive heat of the Scorching Badlands clung to him like a second skin. He frowned, glancing toward where Kael had been resting. Empty.
"Where’s the mutt gone now?" he muttered, grabbing his hammer and rising to his feet. The faint glow of the campfire cast long shadows across the jagged rocks, but something about those shadows felt alive, writhing unnaturally.
A sudden chill raced down his spine, and before he could react, spectral hands erupted from the ground around him. They were ghostly, shimmering forms, their clawed fingers wrapping around his legs and arms with unnatural strength. Thrain let out a bellow of rage, swinging his hammer wildly as he tried to free himself. The hammer’s heavy arc slammed into one of the hands, dispersing it with a faint hiss, but more surged up to take its place.
"Damn spirits!" Thrain roared, his muscles straining against the ethereal bonds.
Elyndor stepped out from the shadows, his staff glowing faintly as more spirits swirled around him. The elven champion’s golden eyes reflected the light of the molten ravine, but his expression was cold and detached, devoid of any emotion.
"What in the bloody hells are you doing?!" Thrain roared, struggling against the spectral grip. His voice echoed across the ravine, loud enough to wake the dead—or so he hoped.
"Carrying out the mission," Elyndor replied simply, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.
The spirits tightened their grip, forcing Thrain to his knees. The dwarf growled, veins bulging as he activated his Earthforge ability. The ground beneath him trembled, cracks spidering outward as molten energy surged through his hammer. A faint, earthen glow emanated from the weapon as he prepared to strike.
"You’ll regret this, you damned knife-ear," Thrain growled through gritted teeth.
He slammed his hammer into the ground, unleashing a shockwave of molten rock. The eruption shattered the spectral bonds, sending shards of fiery stone flying in every direction. Elyndor staggered back, his eyes narrowing as he raised his staff. A barrier of glowing, ethereal energy materialized before him, deflecting the molten projectiles, but the force of the attack sent him skidding back.
Thrain didn’t let up. With a roar, he charged forward, his hammer glowing brighter as he swung it in a wide arc. The weapon struck Elyndor’s barrier with a resounding crack, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The barrier held, but just barely. Fractures spread across its surface like spiderwebs.
"You’re wasting your strength," Elyndor said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "You can’t stop me."
"Let’s see about that!" Thrain barked, slamming his hammer into the ground again. A fissure opened beneath Elyndor’s feet, spewing molten rock and forcing the elf to leap back. The molten flow surged toward him, threatening to engulf him, but Elyndor moved with practiced ease, his spirits forming stepping stones of solid energy that carried him above the chaos.
"You’re predictable, dwarf," Elyndor sneered, his golden eyes glowing as he raised his staff. The spirits around him coalesced into sharp, spear-like forms, their edges shimmering with deadly intent. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them hurtling toward Thrain.
Thrain braced himself, spinning his hammer in a defensive arc. The spectral spears struck the hammer’s glowing surface, shattering into bursts of light and leaving faint scorch marks on the dwarf’s armor. He gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he deflected each strike.
"Is that all you’ve got?!" Thrain bellowed, his voice rising above the din of battle. He swung his hammer with all his might, sending a molten wave toward Elyndor.
The elf sidestepped with an infuriating grace, his spirits forming a barrier that absorbed the brunt of the attack. "You’re outmatched, Thrain," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Your brute strength means nothing against precision."
"Precision this!" Thrain roared, charging forward. He brought his hammer down in a two-handed strike, the force of the blow sending a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath Elyndor’s feet.
Elyndor stumbled, his barrier faltering for a moment. But before Thrain could capitalize on the opening, spectral chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around his arms and legs and halting his momentum. The dwarf roared in frustration, straining against the bonds, but Elyndor’s spirits tightened their grip.
"You should’ve stayed asleep," Elyndor said coldly, stepping closer. His staff glowed as he prepared to deliver a finishing blow.
+
The rest of the group arrived just as Elyndor raised his staff for the killing blow. Sylvia’s wings flared, casting a blinding light that forced Elyndor to step back. Kael followed, his claws bared, and James stumbled in behind them, clutching one of his gadgets.
"Elyndor!" Sylvia’s voice was sharp, filled with disbelief and fury. "What are you doing?!"
Elyndor straightened, his staff glowing faintly as he turned to face them. His expression was calm, almost serene, but his eyes burned with conviction. "Following orders."
"Orders?" Kael snarled, stepping forward. "Whose orders? To kill your own allies?"
"Not allies," Elyndor said coldly. "Obstacles. Each of you is a liability. Your presence jeopardizes the mission."
Sylvia’s wings trembled, her anger barely contained. "You’re insane. We’re stronger together. This mission isn’t just about you!"
Elyndor’s lips curled into a faint smile. "You think I care about unity? About camaraderie? This isn’t a fairy tale, Sylvia. This is survival. And I will ensure this mission succeeds, even if it means eliminating the rest of you."
Kael lunged, but Elyndor raised his staff, a massive spirit construct materializing between them. The creature was a towering amalgamation of fire and earth, its molten body radiating intense heat. Its hollow eyes glowed with malevolent energy as it let out a deafening roar.
"You want to stop me?" Elyndor said, his voice laced with cold amusement. "Then try."
The spirit construct charged, the ground shaking with every step as the group prepared for battle.