The campfire crackled weakly, its light barely piercing the oppressive darkness of the Scorching Badlands. The jagged volcanic ridge loomed over the group like a row of teeth, and the air carried the acrid scent of sulfur and molten rock. Despite the heat, an uneasy chill settled among the champions as they prepared for the night.
Kael sat cross-legged near the fire, gnawing on a strip of dried meat. His amber eyes glinted in the flickering light as he tossed an extra piece to James. "You’re awfully quiet, tinkerer. Scared of what’s out there?"
James caught the strip awkwardly, his mind elsewhere. "Not scared," he muttered. "Just… thinking."
"Thinking doesn’t keep you alive out here," Kael retorted, his sharp teeth flashing in a grin. "Strength does."
"Strength without a brain to use it is just as useless," Thrain grumbled as he inspected his hammer. "Not all problems can be solved by tearing them apart."
Kael snorted but said nothing more. Sylvia sat apart from the group, her wings dimmed as she held her Communication Runestone tightly. The faint glow of the stone pulsed weakly, a stark contrast to its usual radiance.
"It’s not working," she said finally, her voice strained. She shook the stone gently, as if that might fix it. "I’ve been trying for hours, but there’s no response from E the Radiant."
"We need to think this through," Sylvia said, her voice steady but firm. "Something’s wrong—more than just the heat. Runestones don’t just fail. Not all of them. Not at the same time."
Thrain grunted, his thick fingers tightening around his own stone as if willing it to work. "You think the heat’s messing with ’em? These things are supposed to be enchanted to work anywhere, no matter the conditions."
"It’s not the heat," James murmured, his gaze fixed on the ground as his thoughts raced. "Runestones are warded against interference. If they’re not working… it means something is actively blocking them."
Kael tilted his head, his ears twitching as he leaned back with a low growl. "Blocking us? Who? And why? No one outside of the Avatars and the King even knew we were coming here."
"Except Elyndor," Sylvia said sharply, her words cutting through the tension like a blade. She fixed her luminous gaze on Kael. "He betrayed us for a reason. Maybe this is connected."
Kael’s claws scraped against the stone floor, his eyes narrowing as his tail lashed behind him. "You’re saying knife-ears set us up for this? That he’s working with… what? Someone back home?"
"It’s possible," Sylvia admitted, though her tone betrayed her reluctance to say it aloud. "He’s been suspicious from the start, and his attack proves he has no loyalty to this group. But…" She hesitated, her brow furrowing. "It doesn’t add up."
"How doesn’t it?" Thrain rumbled, his voice like grinding rock. "He tries to kill us, traps us in this hellhole, and now our connection to the Avatars is cut? Seems pretty damned clear to me."
James shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting with a small gadget from his pack. "It’s too… messy," he said hesitantly. "Elyndor’s smart, careful. If he had a plan, it wouldn’t be this chaotic. Why try to kill us here and now, when the Badlands would do the job for him eventually? And cutting the communication doesn’t just hurt us—it cuts him off too. That doesn’t make sense."
Sylvia nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful. "James is right. Elyndor might be trying to finish us off, but he wouldn’t sabotage himself in the process. This isn’t just about him. Something bigger is happening."
Kael let out a sharp laugh, his claws tapping rhythmically against the ground. "Bigger? Like what? You think someone sent us here to die on purpose? Or maybe the Badlands themselves have it out for us?"
"I don’t know," Sylvia admitted. "But I do know this: we can’t trust Elyndor, and we can’t count on anyone coming to save us."
The words hung heavy in the air, their weight sinking into the group like stones. For a moment, no one spoke, the distant rumble of molten rock the only sound.
"So what’s the plan?" Thrain finally said, his voice gruff but measured. "Do we use the Return Runestones and call it a loss? Go back, lick our wounds, and report what we’ve seen?"
James looked up sharply, his expression conflicted. "And what exactly would we report? That there’s something out here evolving faster than anything we’ve ever seen? That we don’t even know what it is, let alone how to stop it? The mission was to investigate and return with answers. If we leave now, we fail."
"And failing isn’t an option," Sylvia added, her tone resolute. "The Avatars chose us for a reason. We have to see this through."
Kael rolled his shoulders, the faint glow of the firelight casting his sharp features in shadow. "That’s all fine and noble, but let’s not forget we’ve got Elyndor skulking around, licking his wounds and waiting to gut us. Not to mention whatever caused that beam of destruction earlier. You really think we stand a chance against any of that?"
James hesitated, his mind flashing back to the claw mark they’d found earlier. He felt a chill despite the heat, the memory of its size and precision sending shivers down his spine. "We might not stand a chance," he admitted quietly. "But we’ll definitely die if we stay like this—scattered, arguing, and second-guessing each other. If we’re going to survive, we need to trust each other."
Thrain huffed, his fingers tightening around his hammer. "Trust? You’re asking a lot, boy. Trust gets you killed."
"It also gets you through," James countered, his voice steady. "Look, I’m not saying we all have to hold hands and sing songs, but if we keep fighting each other, we’re doing Elyndor’s work for him. We don’t have to like each other, but we do need each other."
Kael snorted but didn’t argue, his claws tapping out a restless rhythm against the stone. Thrain muttered something under his breath but gave a reluctant nod.
Sylvia looked at James, her expression softening slightly. "You’re right," she said finally. "We have to focus. Elyndor’s still out there, and whatever’s ahead of us is even worse. We survive this together, or not at all."
The group fell into an uneasy silence, the tension easing slightly but not fully gone. James leaned back against a rock, his mind racing with possibilities. Something about the Badlands felt wrong, like they were walking into a trap far bigger than Elyndor’s schemes. And then there was the dream—the molten eyes, the shadow, the overwhelming sense of insignificance.
He shook his head, trying to push the memory aside. One thing at a time.
"We move at first light," Sylvia said, her voice breaking through his thoughts. "Stay alert. No one wanders off alone."
Kael rolled his eyes but gave a sharp nod. Thrain grunted his agreement, and James let out a quiet sigh of relief. For now, they were united—if only just.
The group fell into silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. James tried not to dwell on the implications, but his mind churned with possibilities. What if they failed? What if they couldn’t return?
Or worse—what if something out here made sure they didn’t?
+
As the night deepened, the fire died down to glowing embers. The champions took turns standing watch, their figures silhouetted against the faint glow of the volcanic landscape. When James’s turn came, he sat on a boulder, his goggles resting on his forehead as he stared into the distance. The heat pressed against his skin like a smothering blanket, but his thoughts kept him alert.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook him. He leaned back against the rock, his eyes growing heavy.
The dream began abruptly.
James stood in a vast expanse of nothingness, the ground beneath his feet cracked and glowing faintly with molten veins. The air was thick, oppressive, and filled with the faint hum of something ancient and alive.
He looked up—and froze.
A colossal shadow loomed before him, its form obscured but undeniably monstrous. Its molten eyes glowed like twin suns, piercing through the darkness and locking onto him. The sheer size of the creature was incomprehensible; its massive body stretched beyond the horizon, blotting out what little light there was.
James tried to move, but his body wouldn’t obey. The shadow shifted, a low rumble vibrating through the air as if it were laughing. The sound wasn’t cruel—it was indifferent, a force of nature acknowledging its own supremacy.
"A little mouse," a voice echoed, deep and resonant. It wasn’t a voice meant for mortal ears, and James’s head throbbed with the weight of it. "Searching for me."
The molten eyes began to focus, and James realized they weren’t fully open. The lids shifted, peeling back slowly to reveal an infinite void within. As the eye opened fully, a searing light burst forth, consuming everything in its path.
"Sleep."
James screamed.
He jolted awake, his heart racing and his body drenched in sweat. His breath came in shallow gasps as he clutched his chest, his mind struggling to process what he’d just seen.
"You all right there, tinkerer?" Kael’s voice broke the silence. The beastman leaned against a nearby rock, his claws idly scratching at the stone. "You were screaming like a pup caught in a bear trap."
James wiped his forehead, his hands trembling. "Just a dream," he muttered. "Nothing to worry about."
Kael raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Didn’t sound like nothing."
"Leave him alone, Kael," Sylvia said, her voice soft but firm. She sat cross-legged by the fire, her luminous eyes fixed on James. "Dreams can be more than they seem, especially here."
James hesitated, his mind replaying the image of the colossal shadow. "It was just... a nightmare," he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. He didn’t want to admit how real it had felt—or how much it terrified him.
Sylvia studied him for a moment before nodding. "Rest if you can. We’ll need our strength tomorrow."
James nodded but didn’t lie back down. Sleep felt like a risk he wasn’t willing to take.
+
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Unseen by the group, Elyndor crouched atop a nearby ledge, his breathing labored and his staff glowing faintly. He clutched his injured arm, the wound from Kael’s claws pulsing with pain.
"They’re still alive," he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. "But not for long."
With a flick of his staff, he activated another trap. The molten ground around him shimmered, and a low rumble echoed through the night. Tiny embers rose from the cracks, coalescing into fiery shapes. The elementals hissed and snarled as they formed, their molten bodies glowing in the darkness.
Elyndor smirked despite his pain. "Let’s see how long they last against this."
He watched as the fire elementals began to descend toward the camp, their hissing voices blending into the night. The champions wouldn’t know what hit them.
Not until it was too late.