The night stretched on, heavy and unyielding. The faint glow of distant lava flows cast eerie shadows across the jagged terrain, dancing like specters over the group’s battered forms. James sat apart from the others, his head bowed and his hands trembling as he worked on a small device. He wasn’t tinkering for utility this time—his fingers moved out of habit, a desperate attempt to keep the rising dread at bay.
But it was there, just beneath the surface. Waiting.
His dreams had turned darker with every passing night. It wasn’t just the haunting image of molten eyes or the shadow that devoured the skies. Now there were memories—flashes of something ancient, visceral, and unrelenting. A storm of destruction tearing through the Scorching Badlands. Creatures of molten flesh and obsidian bone crumbling under an unstoppable force. And then, always, the cocoon. Vast, pulsating with ominous energy, nestled in the heart of the devastation.
James shuddered as the memory of its presence clawed at his mind. The cocoon wasn’t just a place; it was alive. And it was waiting for something—or someone.
A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched.
"It’s just me," Sylvia said softly, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of concern. She knelt beside him, her wings dimmed to faint halos of light. "You’re shaking."
James forced a weak smile, though his face was pale. "I’m fine. Just… tired."
Sylvia studied him for a moment, her golden eyes narrowing. "No, you’re not. You’ve barely slept since we got here. And when you do, you wake up like you’ve seen a ghost."
James hesitated, his fingers tightening around the half-finished gadget. "It’s nothing. Just… dreams."
"Dreams don’t leave you looking like this." Her tone was gentle but firm. "Tell me."
He sighed, setting the device down. "It’s hard to explain. It’s like… someone else’s memories. I see things. Battles. Destruction. And this… thing. A cocoon, massive enough to dwarf everything around it. It’s alive, Sylvia. I can feel it. And it’s not just waiting. It’s calling."
Sylvia’s expression hardened, but she didn’t dismiss him. Instead, she sat back, her gaze drifting to the horizon. "Psychic energy. If what you’re describing is real, it’s not a dream—it’s an intrusion. Something is reaching into your mind."
James rubbed his temples, the throbbing pain behind his eyes intensifying. "Why me? I’m the least useful one here."
"That’s not true," Sylvia said, her voice surprisingly kind. "You’ve kept us alive more than once. You see things the rest of us don’t. Maybe that’s why it’s reaching out to you. Maybe it sees you as…" She trailed off, her wings shifting uneasily.
"As what?" James pressed, his voice cracking.
She hesitated, then met his eyes. "A threat. Or a vessel."
James felt the blood drain from his face. Before he could respond, Kael’s gruff voice cut through the stillness.
"You two done whispering over there? We’ve got a long trek ahead, and I’d rather not have another ambush while you’re playing therapist."
Sylvia rose smoothly, her expression closing off as she turned to Kael. "We’re all tired, Kael. Try showing some patience for once."
Kael snorted but didn’t argue, his amber eyes flicking to James. "Stick close, gadget-man. If you keel over, it’s on us to carry you."
James managed a weak laugh. "I’ll do my best not to be a burden."
Thrain, standing a few paces away, slammed the butt of his hammer into the ground to get their attention. "Enough chatter. We move at first light. Rest while you can."
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
+
The morning came too soon, the relentless heat bearing down on them like a living thing. The group followed a faint trail of energy—a shimmering disturbance in the air that seemed to pulse with residual power. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Sylvia’s attunement to divine magic kept them on course.
Unbeknownst to them, Elyndor watched from the shadows, his form hunched and trembling. His once-gleaming robes were scorched and torn, his face pale and slick with sweat. Every breath was a struggle, but his eyes burned with hatred.
"They think they’ve won," he muttered to himself, his voice a rasp. "They think they’re safe."
The spirits around him whispered, their translucent forms weaving into the volcanic rock. "I know."
Elyndor raised his staff, the glow of his dwindling power igniting one final trap. The spirits surged forward, their energy lacing the ground with instability. Fissures spread like spiderwebs, glowing with molten light.
"Let’s see how far you get," Elyndor hissed, retreating into the shadows.
+
The group trudged onward, the oppressive landscape stretching endlessly before them. The air grew thicker, the heat more intense. Even the Heat Resistant Runestones seemed to falter, their protective auras flickering.
"This place is worse than a forge during high summer," Thrain grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. "If we don’t find shade soon, we’ll be cooked alive."
Kael rolled his shoulders, his movements slower than usual. "Stop complaining, stone-head. You’re the one who wanted to keep moving."
Sylvia ignored them, her focus on the trail ahead. Her wings shimmered faintly, the light dimming with each step. James lagged behind, his scanner beeping intermittently.
"Something’s off," he said, his voice strained. "The energy signature is… erratic. It doesn’t make sense."
Kael shot him a look. "What doesn’t?"
James adjusted the scanner, his brow furrowing. "It’s splitting. Like there are two trails instead of one."
Sylvia stopped, her wings spreading slightly. "Could it be a trick?"
"Maybe," James admitted. "Or… maybe we’re walking into—"
The ground beneath them groaned.
Before anyone could react, the earth gave way, collapsing into a chasm of molten rock and jagged obsidian. Sylvia’s wings flared, a barrier of light enveloping the group as they plummeted. The barrier cushioned their fall, but the impact still sent shockwaves through their bodies.
They landed on a narrow ledge overlooking a river of lava. The heat was suffocating, their runestones flickering as they struggled to maintain their protective fields.
"Is everyone alive?" Sylvia called out, her voice tight with strain.
"Barely," Kael growled, his claws digging into the ledge for balance. "What the hell just happened?"
"A trap," Thrain said grimly, pulling himself upright. "And a damned good one."
James staggered to his feet, his scanner beeping wildly. "The ground’s unstable. We need to move before this ledge collapses."
As if on cue, molten rock surged upward, splashing dangerously close to the group. Thrain slammed his hammer into the ground, sending ripples of earth magic through the ledge. The stone beneath them steadied, but the effort left him visibly drained.
"Can’t hold it forever," he said, sweat dripping from his brow. "Move!"
Sylvia led the way, her wings glowing as she deflected falling debris. Kael moved with feral agility, leaping from one unstable section of the ledge to another. James followed closely, his heart pounding as the lava hissed and roared below.
Spirits emerged from the walls, their spectral forms clawing at the group. Sylvia’s barrier repelled most of them, but a few slipped through, their ghostly claws slashing at exposed skin.
Kael tore through the spirits with wild abandon, his claws slicing through their incorporeal forms. "These things just don’t quit!"
"Keep moving!" Sylvia shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. "We’re almost out!"
The ledge narrowed, forcing them into single file. James stumbled, nearly losing his footing, but Thrain’s hand shot out, gripping his arm and pulling him back.
"Not on my watch, lad," the dwarf said gruffly.
James managed a shaky nod, his gratitude clear. "Thanks."
They reached a wider section of the ledge, but the spirits didn’t relent. Sylvia’s light dimmed, her breathing labored. Thrain’s hammer dragged slightly, his strength waning.
As they fought to keep moving, eventually, they got to a safe enough distance away from the damn spirits.
But, a new problem showed itself.
A new presence loomed in the cavern. It was subtle at first—a faint vibration in the air, a hum that resonated in their bones. Then came the whispers, low and unintelligible, but growing louder with each passing moment.
James froze, his eyes wide. "It’s him," he whispered.
Sylvia turned to him, her expression sharp. "What?"
"The thing from my dreams," James said, his voice trembling. "It’s here."
The group exchanged uneasy glances, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. The whispers grew louder, echoing through the cavern like a haunting melody.
And then, in the distance, they saw it.
A faint glow, pulsating rhythmically, deep within the molten river. It was vast and otherworldly, a cocoon of shadow and light that seemed to breathe with malevolent intent.
"By the gods," Thrain muttered, his voice barely audible.
Kael’s claws flexed, his usual bravado replaced by unease. "That’s what we’re here for?"
James nodded slowly, his throat dry. "I think so."
The whispers grew louder, the cavern trembling as the cocoon pulsed. Whatever lay within was awakening, and the group was dangerously close.
"Move," Sylvia said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "Whatever that is, we’ll take care of it the next day. We need to make camp here. Now."
"Aye," The dwarven genius muttered. "Those damn spirits tire me more than my teacher’s incessant yelling when I make a mistake."
". . . .I’ll get the equipments," Kael said.
James, however, never left his eyes off the cocoon, understanding that tonight may be the last day of his life if he wasn’t careful.