The trek from the Castle of Shadows to the Canyon of Rust was not a long journey by the standards of epic quests. It was, however, an eternal struggle for anyone who appreciated silence, sanity, or personal space.
The geography of the Abandoned Continent was, to put it politely, aesthetically challenged.
It wasn't the haunted, gothic kind of ugly that bards wrote songs about. It was the vacant lot filled with sharp rocks and disappointment kind of ugly. The sky was a bruised purple, the ground was grey dust that tasted like copper, and the only vegetation consisted of twisted, thorny bushes that looked like they would stab you just for making eye contact.
Kaelen, however, was determined to find the romance in it.
He walked with a stride that belonged on a runway, his cape billowing behind him despite the absolute lack of wind.
"Look at the way the light hits that boulder," Kaelen said, stopping to gesture grandly at a rock that looked like a potato left in the sun for a century. "Melancholic, isn't it? A silent sentinel watching over a forgotten age. There is a poetry to this desolation. It's lonely, yet proud."
Lyra walked beside him, her staff glowing faintly. She looked at the rock, then at Kaelen, her expression one of deep, long-suffering affection.
"It is a rock, Captain," Lyra said gently. "And if you look closely, you will see it is covered in petrified lizard droppings."
Kaelen didn't miss a beat. He flashed a dazzling, charming grin.
"Stardust, Lyra," he corrected softly. "From a certain perspective, everything is stardust. Even the droppings. You just have to squint a little."
"Can I burn it?"
Elowen didn't wait for an answer. She wasn't walking; she was sliding just an inch above the ground on a shimmering wave of heat. She flicked her wrist, and a pebble near Kaelen's boot turned into a pile of molten slag with a sharp hiss.
"It's ugly," Elowen complained, tossing a fireball from one hand to the other. "It offends me. If I burn it, maybe it will turn into a cool glass sculpture. Or just ash. Ash is prettier than this."
"No burning the scenery, Elowen," Kaelen said without looking back. "We are trying to be low profile."
"If you stare at the rock any longer, Captain, I'm going to assume you're asking it on a date," Garrick said.
Garrick was drifting on his back three feet in the air, hands behind his head, staring at the purple sky with bored amusement. "Move it along. Evolution is happening faster than your walking pace."
"You have no soul, Garrick," Kaelen retorted lightly.
"I traded it for power and better hair," Garrick smirked, spinning in the air. "Fair trade."
Aris looked around nervously. "Where is Thal?"
He scanned the group. Kaelen, Lyra, Elowen, Garrick, Valerius, Eve... but no Thal. The sun was beating down, illuminating every crack in the earth. There was nowhere to hide.
"Did we leave him?" Aris asked, panic rising. "Did he melt?"
"I am here," a voice rasped directly next to Aris's ear.
Aris jumped, nearly dropping his briefcase.
Thal was walking right beside him. In fact, he had been there the whole time. But his cloak seemed to ripple with the heat waves rising from the ground. One moment he looked like a person; the next, he looked like a trick of the light. He wasn't hiding in a shadow; he was the camouflage.
"How do you do that?" Aris gasped, clutching his chest. "It's noon. There's no cover."
"A true shadow does not need darkness," Thal said, his voice low and devoid of arrogance, just stating a fact. "Attention is a currency, Aris. I simply choose not to spend it. The eye slides off what it cannot understand."
"Well, stop it," Aris exhaled. "You're giving me a heart attack."
"Wait," Valerius said.
The Pale Healer stopped abruptly. She wasn't looking at the horizon. She was staring at a small, pulsating purple flower growing out of a crack in the dry earth.
She drifted closer, her face lighting up with genuine delight.
"Oh, look," Valerius cooed. "A Venom-Spitter Orchid."
Kaelen immediately stepped between Valerius and the flower, his hand drifting to his hilt. "Careful. Let me cut it down for you."
"No!" Valerius gasped, pushing Kaelen's arm down. "It's beautiful. Its neurotoxin dissolves the nervous system in seconds. The victim feels nothing but a warm, fuzzy sensation before their heart stops. It's... mercy in plant form."
She reached out and gently plucked it, tucking it into her hair like a daisy.
"I shall name him Tickles," Valerius decided.
Kaelen looked at Aris, his eyebrow raised. "Did we vet her background check thoroughly? Or did we just accept the first healer who applied?"
"She's fine," Aris said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "As long as she doesn't feed Tickles to us."
"Can I burn Tickles?" Elowen asked hopefully, drifting closer to Valerius, the air around her rippling with heat.
"If you touch him, I will dissect your aura," Valerius said, her voice airy and sweet.
"Okay!" Aris shouted, clapping his hands. "Look! We're here."
The group came to a halt at the edge of a massive ridge.
The banter died instantly.
Below them, the silence of the desert was shattered.
The Canyon of Rust didn't look like a settlement. It looked like a wound in the earth that had been cauterized with metal. Massive, rusting ribs of ancient machines jutted out from the canyon walls like the bones of dead titans. Bridges made of chains and scrap metal swayed precariously over the drop.
But it was the noise that hit them first.
CLANG. HISS. GRIND.
It was a symphony of industry. Thousands of Goblins were moving down there—welding, hammering, shouting. Smoke belched from vents, turning the air below into a smoggy soup.
"It smells like a dragon's armpit," Garrick noted, floating upright. "And not the sexy kind of dragon."
"The fact that you know what a 'sexy dragon armpit' smells like," Aris said, stopping to give him a horrified look, "is actually more concerning than the smell itself."
"Don't judge, Boss," Garrick winked. "It was a wild era."
Kaelen stepped to the edge. He didn't crouch. He didn't hide. He just stood there, looking down at the army of thousands with the same expression one might use when looking at a spilled drink.
"Ambitious," Kaelen noted dryly.
He pointed a lazy finger toward the towers. "Sentries. Three on the bridge. Two in the tower. They have those pneumatic bolt-throwers. Compressed air. Noisy, inaccurate, and frankly, a bit rude."
He shook his head slightly. "They probably feel very tough holding those."
"Those 'toys' can punch through plate armor," Aris whispered, terrified.
"Through normal plate armor, yes," Kaelen corrected, glancing at Aris with a calm, reassuring smile. "Not through me. But you, Aris... you are regrettably squishy. That is the only reason I am bothering to strategize."
He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Elowen.
"Elowen," Kaelen said, his voice light but firm. "See those tanks with the yellow stripes? Methane. If I were alone, I'd just let you blow them up. It would save us the walk down. But since we need the King alive..."
He gestured to Aris. "Hands in pockets. If you sneeze and ignite the gas, Aris turns into mist. And I don't think Valerius can heal mist."
"I could try," Valerius muttered thoughtfully, tilting her head. "But I would have to collect the vapor in a bucket first. He would come back as a soup. A very anxious soup."
Aris stared at her. "Please never say that again."
Elowen pouted, crossing her arms, the fire in her hands extinguishing with a disappointed phut. "You take the fun out of everything, Captain. Fine. No sparks. Just boring walking."
She drifted closer to Aris, a wicked, conspiratorial grin spreading across her face.
"Though honestly, Captain is right," she whispered, loud enough for only Aris to hear. "We Legends would be fine. I have fire resistance. Garrick is hard-headed. But you..." She poked Aris's shoulder with a finger that was still uncomfortably warm. "You'd be the only one to get roasted. A Demon King Marshmallow. Perfectly toasted on the outside, gooey panic on the inside."
She winked. "You're lucky I'm bored. Otherwise, this whole trip would be... lit."
Aris paled, instinctively patting his jacket as if checking for smoke. "Please stop using food metaphors for my death, Elowen."
"Lyra," Kaelen continued, pointing to the bridge with a yawn. "Mana crystals in the supports. Volatile. Keep a shield on the boy. The rest of us can handle a little explosion, but let's try to keep his suit clean."
"Understood," Lyra said, gripping her staff.
Thal stepped to the edge. "The shadows down there are dense. If negotiations bore me, I can silence the sentries before they realize they are dead."
"Let's try talking first," Aris said, adjusting his collar, his heart still racing from the marshmallow comment.
"Master," Eve whispered, leaning in. "Your legs are shaking. Shall I fetch the fainting couch? Or do you plan to conquer this canyon by trembling at it?"
"I am vibrating with excitement, Eve," Aris lied through his teeth.
He gripped the handle of his briefcase.
"Let's go," Aris said. "Try not to look like we're invading. We're just... aggressively visiting."
"Aggressive visiting," Kaelen chuckled, drawing his sword just an inch out of its scabbard to check the slide, purely out of habit. "My favorite kind."
They began the descent into the smoke.