The fire pit crackled to life as Thorn stacked the last of the dry wood, sparks shooting upward like scattered stars in the dim underground room.
He crouched low, rubbing his soot stained palms together, and gave a satisfied grunt.
"There. Should last us a good while," he muttered, half to himself, half to Ren who was sitting a few feet away, sharpening one of Lilith's throwing knives on a whetstone.
Ren didn't look up from the steady back and forth scrape of metal against stone.
His voice, when he spoke, was low, tired but firm. "I've been thinking about where we'll have to go. When the whole thing begins. You know the Primordial Flame isn't going to wait for us."
Thorn leaned back on his haunches, poking at the fire with a stick. "You said before there's only one path, right? That tunnel you mentioned?"
Ren finally sheathed the dagger and met Thorn's gaze. "Yes. There's only one route into the fold in reality where the Primordial Flame is kept."
