The wind screamed across the cliffside as the five reached the edge of Thryssvessra. Snow clung to their thick coats, and their boots crunched against frozen stone. From the cave they had claimed, the kingdom stretched below—white towers glowing under moonlight, walls lined with guards, and the palace rising like a blade of ice in the center. It was beautiful, but dangerous. The cold wasn't just in the air—it was in the way the kingdom watched, alert and ready.
Inside the cave, they huddled around a flickering black flame. It gave no warmth, only shadows. Lior sat closest to the entrance, her squirrel mask resting beside her. Her eyes were sharp, but her fingers trembled slightly. "This is the third time," she said, her voice low and steady. "We know where the gem is. We just need to get in."
Keal leaned forward, his tiger mask gripped tightly in his hands. "They've doubled the guards," he said, frustration in his voice. "They remember us. They're waiting."
Jex, already wearing his two-faced mask, tilted his head. "Let them wait," he said, calm but tense. "I'll give them something to chase. Illusions. Shadows. They won't know what's real."
Thorne placed his gorilla mask on the ground beside him, his voice deep and quiet. "We train hard, for sure, this will be easy."
Kira pulled her skunk mask over her face, her eyes glowing faintly. "We go tonight," she whispered. "When the moon is high and the wind is loud."
They placed their hands together. The black flame pulsed once, then vanished. Their bond was sealed.
That night, they moved like ghosts. Black magic wrapped around them, bending the air, silencing their steps. But the kingdom was awake. As they neared the outer gate, two guards stood alert, eyes scanning the dark. Lior raised her hand, her breath slow and steady. A whisper of magic flowed from her fingers, curling through the air. The guards blinked, swayed, then collapsed into sleep, their minds pulled into deep dreams.
They slipped past the gate—but not unnoticed.
A patrol spotted movement. Shouts rang out. Jex stepped forward, his mask glowing. Illusion burst from him—five figures running in the opposite direction. The guards chased the mirage, but others weren't fooled. Arrows flew. Magic flared. Keal blocked a strike with a wall of ice, his arm already bleeding. "They're faster than before," he muttered, pain tightening his voice.
Thorne threw black fire, clearing a path. "Keep moving!" he shouted, his voice rough with urgency.
They fought through the courtyard, dodging spells and blades. The palace guards were skilled—trained to protect the royal family. And tonight, the king and queen themselves stepped into the fray, their magic ancient and fierce. Two princes joined them, leading the soldiers with fury. Kira was struck by a blast of ice, her shoulder burning. She bit back a cry, whispering a spell to numb the pain.
"We're close," she said through clenched teeth. "Don't stop."
Lior's heart pounded. Her mask was cracked. Her magic flickered. But she kept going. "We finish this," she said, voice shaking. "We finish it now."
They reached the inner hall, bruised and bleeding. The guards were behind them, but the chamber was ahead. They burst through the final door—and silence met them.
Grass stretched across the floor. In the center, a silver pond shimmered. Beside it stood the willow tree—tall, frozen, glowing. The gem pulsed within its roots.
They collapsed to their knees, breathing hard.
"We made it," Jex said, his voice hoarse. "I thought we wouldn't…"
Thorne chuckled weakly. "Easy part now," he said, trying to smile through the pain.
But the air shifted.
The moment the sorcerer raised his hand, the air cracked like glass. A pulse of magic surged outward, and the chamber twisted violently. The pond vanished. The willow tree bent unnaturally, its branches stretching like claws. The ground beneath them split, and each of the five felt themselves pulled—dragged into a cold, blinding illusion.
The world around them became an endless maze of ice. Walls shimmered with frost, mirrors of their own fears. They were scattered, separated by magic that bent space and time. Lior screamed for her friends, but her voice echoed back in strange tones. Her breath fogged the air, and her feet slid across the frozen floor. She was alone.
In each corner of the maze, the sorcerer's illusion summoned soldiers—tall, faceless beings made entirely of ice. Their bodies were thick, their movements sharp. Every time one shattered under black fire or a blade of frost, another rose from the shards, stronger than the last.
Keal fought with fury, his tiger mask soaked in sweat and blood. "They don't stop!" he shouted, slamming his fists into the ground to summon spikes of black ice.
Kira darted between walls, her skunk mask barely visible as she struck from the shadows. "We're being tested," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Thorne's gorilla mask glowed faintly as he summoned black fire, burning through the soldiers, but his arms were heavy. "They're illusions," he growled, "but they hurt like truth."
Jex, surrounded by copies of himself, used illusion to confuse the soldiers, but even his magic was thinning. "We need to find each other," he said, his voice echoing through the maze. "Or we'll die alone."
Lior pressed her hand to the ice wall. Her magic surged, and the frost cracked. She whispered a spell—one she hadn't used since the last mission. The wall shattered, and she saw Keal on the other side, bleeding but alive.
One by one, they broke through the maze, finding each other again. Exhausted, bruised, and barely standing, they faced the final soldier—taller than the rest, with glowing eyes and blades for arms. It roared, shaking the maze. They fought together, black magic swirling around them. Potions were thrown, spells cast, blades clashed. The giant ice soldier struck hard, sending Thorne flying.
Kira screamed, her voice raw. "We can't lose now!"
Lior stepped forward, her body shaking. She raised both hands, black magic pouring from her palms.
"Fall," she whispered, her voice filled with pain.
The soldier cracked, then shattered into a thousand shards. The maze dissolved. The chamber returned—but the pond was still, and the willow tree stood quietly. They had passed the first trial.
But the sorcerer was waiting.
Before they could reach him, the ground split again. A giant rose from the ice—twice the size of the last, its body covered in jagged frost. It moved slowly, but each step shook the chamber. The five stood together, barely breathing. Blood stained their clothes. Their eyes were tired, but their hearts burned.
Keal charged first, roaring, his blade glowing with black flame. "I'll break it!" he shouted, slamming into the giant's leg.
It barely moved.
Kira followed, striking from behind, her daggers slicing through the air. "It's too strong," she gasped, dodging a massive swing.
Thorne summoned a wall of fire, but the giant walked through it, unfazed. "We need more," he said, coughing blood.
Jex threw a black potion, and the explosion cracked the giant's chest. "Now!" he yelled.
Lior stepped forward, her mask glowing. She raised her sword, whispered a spell, and struck. The giant roared, then collapsed, shaking the chamber as it fell.
The sorcerer's power surged like a storm unleashed. Ice spun around him in violent spirals—blades, spears, jagged shards that sliced through the air. The chamber darkened, the willow tree groaning as if mourning what was to come.
Lior gripped her sword tighter, her breath shallow, her body trembling. "We're not broken," she said again, louder this time, as if reminding herself. Her voice was hoarse, but her eyes burned with defiance.
The sorcerer didn't wait. He raised both hands, and a wall of ice erupted from the ground, splitting the group apart. Lior was thrown backward, crashing into the frozen earth. Her ribs screamed. She coughed, blood staining her lips. But she pushed herself up, whispering a black spell to dull the pain. "I'm still standing," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
Kira darted through the shadows, her movements sharp but slowing. Her skunk mask was cracked, her shoulder bleeding. She summoned a veil of black mist, hiding herself from the sorcerer's gaze. But the ice found her anyway—a spear grazing her leg, sending her tumbling. She gasped, clutching her wound. "I won't stop," she hissed, forcing herself to rise. She threw a black dagger, enchanted with shadow, and it struck the sorcerer's arm.
He flinched, but barely. "You think pain will stop me?" he growled, his voice echoing like thunder.
Kira's eyes narrowed. "No," she said, her voice shaking. "But it slows you."
Keal charged through the chaos, his tiger mask glowing faintly. His blade was heavy, his arms numb. He broke through the ice walls with brute force, roaring as he swung.
The sorcerer summoned a storm, and Keal was caught in it—ice slicing his skin, wind knocking him off balance. He fell to one knee, panting. "I won't let you win," he growled, forcing himself up.
He drank a black potion, his veins pulsing with dark energy. With renewed strength, he struck again, his blade glowing with forbidden fire.
The sorcerer blocked, but the force sent him skidding. "You fight like beasts," he spat.
Keal grinned through blood. "We fight like survivors."
Thorne stood firm, his gorilla mask soaked in sweat. He summoned a ring of black fire, protecting his friends. The sorcerer sent a wave of frost, trying to snuff it out, but Thorne held steady. "You won't touch them," he said, his voice deep and raw.
He threw a burst of flame, and it collided with the sorcerer's chest, sending sparks across the chamber. But the sorcerer retaliated, sending a spike of ice through Thorne's side. He groaned, falling to the ground. "I'm not done," he whispered, clutching the wound. "Not until you fall."
Jex moved like smoke, his two-faced mask flickering with illusion. He created copies of himself, each casting spells, each drawing the sorcerer's attention. The chamber was filled with echoes, false voices, mirrored movements.
The sorcerer struck at one, then another, growing frustrated. "Enough tricks!" he roared.
Jex stepped forward, blood dripping from his chin. "Tricks are all we have left," he said, his voice calm.
"And they're working." He cast his final illusion—one that made the sorcerer see himself surrounded, alone, vulnerable.
Lior saw her chance.
Lior's body was barely holding together—her arms numb, her legs trembling, blood soaking through the tears in her clothes. But her grip on the sword never loosened. The black light around the blade pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and defiant.
She ran forward, each step a battle against the pain, against the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The chamber blurred around her—ice shards hanging in the air, illusions flickering at the edges of her vision—but she didn't stop.
Her voice cut through the chaos, low and unwavering. "This ends now."
She leapt, her sword slicing through the frozen air, and the sorcerer turned, his eyes wide with sudden fear. The blade met his chest with a sound like cracking glaciers. For a moment, time held still. Then his body fractured, light spilling from the wound, and he shattered—his form breaking into a thousand pieces of snow that drifted gently to the ground.
The storm stopped.
The illusions faded.
The chamber exhaled.
Silence fell.
The pond lay still once more, its surface smooth and silver. The willow tree stood untouched, its frozen branches swaying gently as if bowing to the end of the battle. Around Lior, her friends collapsed to their knees, each one broken in their own way.
Kira clutched her side, her skunk mask cracked, her face pale and streaked with blood.
Keal leaned against the icy wall, his tiger mask dented, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
Thorne sat with his back to the tree, his gorilla mask resting beside him, his hands burned and shaking.
Jex lay flat on the ground, his two-faced mask still glowing faintly, his illusions finally gone.
Their clothes were torn, their skin bruised and bleeding, their eyes hollow with exhaustion. Black magic still lingered around them, faint and flickering, like the last embers of a dying flame.
None of them spoke.
They didn't need to. Their silence was heavy, filled with everything they had endured. The pain. The fear. The fight. And the victory. They had survived the maze, the soldiers, the giant, and the sorcerer.
But survival had cost them. Their bodies were wrecked, their magic drained, their spirits stretched thin. Yet even in that brokenness, there was pride. They had done what no one else could. They had reached the heart of the kingdom, faced its greatest guardian, and won.
Lior lowered her sword, the black glow fading slowly from its blade. Her hands were shaking, her body covered in bruises and blood, but she managed a small, tired smile. Around her, her friends—her family—stood barely upright, breathing hard, their clothes torn, their faces pale. They had won. But the cost was written across their skin. And somewhere beyond the quiet chamber, the kingdom of Thryssvessra stirred. The snow had settled, the willow tree stood still, but the memory of this night would remain.
The five had walked through the heart of the kingdom, and left behind a warning—one that would not be forgotten.
The gem pulsed softly in the roots of the tree. Lior stepped forward and reached for it. The moment her fingers touched the crystal, she felt it—a heartbeat. Slow, steady, familiar. As if the gem knew her. As if it had been waiting. She held it close, her breath catching. This gem held a piece of the punished king's soul. And though they never spoke of it aloud, they all knew: if the gems were ever brought together, something terrible would awaken.
Lior turned to her friends. They were exhausted, barely standing. Kira leaned against Keal, her eyes half-closed. Thorne sat on the ground, his hands burned and trembling. Jex was silent, his mask cracked, his magic drained. Lior knew they couldn't walk out of here—not like this. She raised her hand, gathering the last of her strength. Her magic was fading, and this spell could push her too far. But she didn't hesitate.
"Just one more," she whispered, her voice soft and weak. Black light wrapped around them, and before she could collapse, the spell took hold.
In a blink, they were gone.
Back in the Hollow, the air shifted. The spell broke, and the five appeared—wounded, unconscious, barely breathing. Families rushed to them, voices rising in panic and relief. Healers came quickly, lifting their bodies, treating their wounds. The mission had gone far beyond what anyone expected. The danger, the fight, the cost—it was more than they had prepared for.
But they had succeeded.
And as they rested, surrounded by warmth and care, there was peace in their hearts. They had faced the impossible. They had returned. And though the road ahead was still uncertain, for now, they were safe.
The Hollow was quiet that night.
But the stars above burned brighter.
And the gem pulsed softly in the dark—waiting.