I limped over and dropped down roughly at her side. My breaths heaved in gasps. Maybe the gods were watching over us. Annalise trembled on the far wall, blood was leaking from her nose and mouth.
It was a sign of mana exhaustion. Mages, or those who could wield magic, had two types of spells they could cast: the minor ones that had small effects like the silver light that Annalise wielded and the fire that Nox used, and tiered magic which drew upon mana from within the mage.
I didn't know the specifics exactly, but when you ran out of tiered magic you usually go into a comatose state until you recovered which could be anywhere from five minutes to a full moon cycle.
The only noise remaining after the chaos was the hiss of acid fading into the drains. My hands, ribs, and my leg ached with a deep burning. But the pain reminded me I was alive, that Balu's creations hadn't taken me yet.
Velyan let out a low breath that could almost be laugh, "You know," she said, her voice still hoarse but steady enough, "you fight like man with no sense of self-preservation. Charging headfirst into death's arms and daring it to take you."
I turned my head toward her, a weary smile tugging at my mouth. "And you shoot like a woman who secretly hopes it does."
Her lips curved, the faintest glint of humor in her tired eyes. "If I had been aiming for you, Qapla, you would not be sitting here trying to be clever. Do not give me so little credit."
The chuckle that escaped me rattled in my chest until I burst out coughing. "Fair enough. Still, if you ever did want to get rid of me, the slime nearly did your work for you. Would have saved you the trouble."
Velyan leaned her head back against the wall and let out a long sigh. "Damn things seem to be a constant in my life."
"Where have you encountered them before?"
"When I first got to Duskmere, my boat landed in a cove that held a cave full of jewels. Me and a friend I made on the journey went to check it out. Turns out the place was a nest for purple slimes. I was barely able to make it out. My friend was not."
Her words died away into stillness, her eyes watching a past I could not see. "She never wanted to go in. I dragged her in there."
"Sounds like she died a warrior's death. What more could one ask for." I replied.
Velyan looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and anger, "You know when a lady tells you a friend dies because of her, you are supposed to comfort her."
"Would an apology help? Would words bring back the fallen?" I lifted my good hand forward, "If that were the case then the Wall would never have fallen. I cannot say I am sorry either, or that would be a lie. I have had many a friend who died. But the ones who died fighting to save me, I will never forget."
Their sacrifice cannot be in vain. I already failed the first task they gave me. I cannot fail the second. I will not.
Nox stirred with a soft groan. Her body shifted against the wall, her golden orange eyes half-lidded as she dragged herself back from whatever abyss she had been teetering on.
Velyan dragged her heavy gaze away from me and towards Nox. "Look who decided to wake up,"
Velyan said, her voice wry but softer now, touched with relief. I laughed, elbows on my knees, watching her carefully. "Nox. That thing you did… the blade, the language, the shadows wrapping around you. What in the hells was that and why didn't you use it earlier?"
Her gaze flicked between us, tired but sharp. For a long moment, she only breathed, the silence stretching until it threatened to smother. Finally, she let out a long exhale. "You deserve to know," she said quietly, "I am a knight sworn to Vantara."
The name struck the air like a dropped blade. Even in taverns, the name was not spoken without lowering one's voice. Vantara. The goddess of darkness, secrets, and shadows. A patron few claimed, and even fewer still survived serving.
Velyan's brow furrowed, her tone losing all trace of jest. "You carried this with you the whole time? Fought beside us, slept under our roof, ate at our table, and never thought to mention you serve the Fallen Queen of Shadows?"
Nox's golden eyes held hers, unblinking. "Would you have trusted me if I had told you the day we met?" she asked, voice steady. "Would any of you? The shadows were a gift to me, but they are also a shackle. Every time I draw upon her power, she pulls me closer to her veil."
The words settled. I could not find fault, but it did not excuse the muddled feeling in my chest.
Before I could answer, a groan cut the silence. Annalise stirred, her head lifting weakly as she blinked herself awake. She sat up slowly. Hair falling into her face, then rubbed at her eyes with both hands. "Is it gone?" she asked, her voice sluggish, but brightening quickly. Her lips curled into a smug smile. "Gods above, I cannot believe that thing ran away from us!"
The three of us exchanged looks. Velyan's mouth twitched as if she were holding back laughter. I shook my head, too tired to soften the truth.
"It did not run," I said.
Velyan's voice was bone-dry, "We killed it. Or rather, Nox split it in two with a sword of shadows."
Annalise smile faltered, her eyes darting between us. "Wait," she said slowly, pointing at Nox, "You are… you did what now?"
Nox tilted her head back against the wall, her eyes closing again. Shadows still clung faintly to her skin, like smoke that refused to drift away. "I will explain," she said softly, "But not here. Not now."
Annalise opened her mouth, shut it, then leaned back with a puff of air. "Fine. But if the slime really did not run, or rather, slide away, I want it noted that for at least thirty seconds I believed I had scared it off myself. Let me keep that."
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped me, then Velyan, and even Nox cracked the faintest grin.
I flexed my leg, pain shooting through my nerves, but it was nothing I wasn't used to. I could handle it until we got back to the guild. "We should get out of here before anything else hiding down here thinks we are a snack."
The group nodded at my words, and we all stood up, though none did so with ease. I walked over to collect my longsword and morningstar laying on the ground.
The once gleaming longsword now had acidic pits burned into it, and the edge was blunted. The morningstar's head was intact, but the sharp flanges were rounded looking closer to a mace. There was no way the payout was going to cover the damage to my equipment.
I wasn't the only one. The leather armor on Nox was falling apart where the slime had grabbed her. I set off towards the basin with heavy footsteps as the rest of the group followed.
In the center of the basin, on the dais of stone, the small skeleton still lay where we had found it. A child's bones. Too light and fragile for this place. I crossed the basin with careful steps, the stone slick beneath my boots, until I stood before the dais. For a long moment I simply looked down at the little skull, its teeth still uneven, its jaw resting as if it had been laid there gently instead of spat out by the jaws of death.
I reached down and cradled it in both hands. The bone was cool, brittle, yet it carried the weight of something heavier than stone. The others gathered close, the lantern light circling us in a dim halo.
"So," Velyan said, her voice low but steady, "What do we tell them? The children. Do we let them believe she is lost somewhere down here? Or that she left with the money?"
Nox shrugged, "It makes no difference to me. The girl is gone. Whatever story we feed them matters not."
"They deserve to hold onto their childhood a little bit longer," Velyan said firmly, her voice carrying conviction. "This world will take it from them soon enough without our help. Why should we hurry it along?"
Annalise shook her head, "Better to tell them now. Better they mourn properly, rise from it, and grow stronger. Letting them believe lies only makes it worse when the truth comes crashing down later. However brutal it is, they should know."
I shifted the skull in my hands, "In my people's ways, there is no sheltering of the young. We were taught early what it means to face death, to feel it in our bones and in our blood. A child that grows without hardship grows into a weak adult, and weakness is a curse in this world. Better they know now. Better they learn this is what awaits for those who stray into dark places unprepared."
Annalise's eyes flicked to me, fierce but grateful for the support. Velyan's gaze lingered on the skull in my hands, and for a heartbeat I thought she might strike me with her words. But she only exhaled, long and tired.
"They are children," she said again, quieter this time, "You speak of strength, but all I see are three children who have already lost too much. How much more should the world carve out of them before it lets them breath?"
I did not answer at once. I only turned the skull over in my palm, staring into the empty sockets. "The world will take whether we allow it or not. Nakh-gul varnak'drak vor urzan. Those who hide children in ignorance lead them to death."
Nox gave a small, humorless laugh. "And so the debate circles, while the dead remain dead. Tell them or do not. It will not change what I see before me: bones on a stone and a city above that will not care either way. Let's get out of here."
"I agree." I replied, "I need some fresh air. When we get back to the guild I'll talk to the kids, inform them what happened. Annalise, can you hold the head in the bag in case they need proof?"
Annalise looked a bit disgruntled before moving to place the skull gently into the satchel. We began to make our way out of the sewers. The path back felt longer than before, each step heavier, slower, dragging with the weight of what we had seen.
I wondered how many children would die before the gods take notice, before they deem their pity worthwhile. How many before the magisters set aside their tomes and enchantments to lift a hand in aid. How many before our councils finally stopped talking of virtue and acted upon it. The Confederacy loved its speeches, its grand degrees and marble statues, but not its people. It had a strange way of turning compassion into ceremony.
The lantern flickered as we walked, its light still thin. I let my mind drift north, to home. To the frozen fields, where the smoke that rose straight into the crisp morning air smelled of pine and tree sap. Life there had been harsh, but at least it was honest.
We lived by simpler, laws, and though Velyan called them cruel, they were the only ones that had ever felt true. We did not wait for councils or kings. We took care of our own. We honored the dead, not the ceremony that surrounds them.
The old ways were not kind, but they had kept me alive. I had to bury the fallen, kill beasts that threatened those that I care about, and to look death in the eye without flinching. There were no coins to buy mercy at the temples, no gilded words to soften the truth. Only fire, earth, and the will to endure.
But the Confederacy has forgotten that. They built walls in the name of safety, but they served to blind them to the danger beyond. They sing of progress while rotting beneath their own gold. And now the Great Wall lies broken, and the danger outside stands before them.
I missed my tribe. They did not just speak of mercy, but lived with it. Here, power is not earned by scars or deeds, but by soft hands and painted lips. The councils knew nothing of hunger or cold. They have never had to watch the sky for omens and under their bed for beasts. They called us savages, yet they know nothing of survival.
I have heard many names for cruelty. They call our's barbaric, but what I see here is worse It is Kar'mor'vakr. The quiet rot that hides beneath warmth and comfort.
Yet, for all my contempt, I could not deny the warmth of those beside me. Annalise's quiet resolve, Nox's crude humor, Velyan's unbending will. They reminded me that there was still something worth standing for. It was not the same as the tribe's fire, but it was a fire all the same.
We reached the ladder at last. I clapped my hand on each shoulder as the group moved to climb up. When I reached the top, I pushed the grate aside and pulled myself into the open air. None of them were moving. They stood on the street staring outward, face pale.
"What's going on." I asked.
Annalise didn't look back, merely pointing into the distance, "Look."
Lightning cracks across the sky, not in a single flash but in a thousand white scars that split the very clouds. The storm had come from nowhere.
Clouds black as ash ringed the city on every side, stretching from horizon to horizon. In the distance, where the forests should have been, the ground twisted and bent under columns of wind. Dozens of tornadoes ripped the earth apart as if some vast hand were clawing it way free from beneath it.
But all of the chaos stopped at the walls' edge. It was as though an invisible force held them back. The trees swayed, the rain crashed against the unseen barrier, and the winds turned aside like water against stone. Inside that line, the city was untouched. Lanterns still burned. Banners hung still. The air felt unnaturally still, too quiet, like it was being forcibly held in place.
Then the sound came.
It wasn't thunder. It wasn't wind. It was a howl. Long and deep, rising until it clawed at the sky itself. It tore through the clouds and shook the ground beneath us. It rattled in my chest and made my teeth ache. It was the cry of something ancient, hungry, and filled with rage.
I could feel it in the very air. That old familiar dread. The one every warrior learns when death is near. I had felt it before. Three times, to be exact. Each time, I swore it would be the last. But death is patient. It always finds a way to remember your name.
The scent of my own death hung heavy in the air.
Annalise's breath caught beside me. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Cloudbreaker."