Nimora and Rowan landed safely, the torch still burning in the girl's hand. Total darkness wrapped around them—there was no light at all besides the flickering flame.
They walked as if descending a steep hill, careful with every step. One slip, and they would fall freely into the abyss below, with no way to slow themselves down.
"Still got your violin, Rowan?" Nimora asked.
"Of course. It's safe with me."
"By the way… I have one request. If I die down there, I want you to take the Mythril Moss to Dr. Thrain."
"Why are you talking like that?"
"It's nothing. Just… being careful."
"But I want you to deliver it yourself, Nim. No matter what happens, we're coming back together," Rowan protested.
They spotted a glow not far below. It turned out to be reflections from the Phosriel—Mythren's sacred birds—nesting at the deepest part of the chasm. Thanks to them, the bottom was bright enough to see, though nowhere near sunlight.
Nimora and Rowan gasped at the sight below. Beyond the countless Phosriel birds, beautiful plants thrived there. A crystal-clear river flowed gently—and that was where the moss grew.
Something felt wrong. There was no one there. No beasts. No predators. Too quiet.
They gathered the silver-colored moss with unsettling ease.
But as they turned around, they froze.
Rylan was standing there, drawing his sword.
"Rylan—you're alive!" Rowan exclaimed, running toward him with excitement.
"Don't come any closer!" Rylan snapped, pointing the blade at the boy.
"Rylan, what the hell is this?!"
"You'd better step aside, you damn kid. You're not my target."
Rowan froze. He never imagined Rylan would speak like that—especially when it was painfully clear that Nimora was the one he was after.
As her companion, Rowan refused to move. He stepped in front of Nimora, ready to protect her—even if it meant fighting his own friend.
Rylan raised his sword without hesitation. Rowan lifted his violin, ready to unleash music powerful enough to kill.
"Why are you like this? If you really attack me, I won't hesitate to kill you," Rowan said, the bow already pressed to the strings.
Rylan lunged forward, striking with his sword infused with his druid magic.
•••
That night, the moon shone brighter than ever. Calantha, Astraea, and Gala had reached Sylwenna Archelune—a vast mountain range filled with dead trees, the remains of a meteor impact from years ago.
"Hold on!" Gala signaled with her hand. "I feel something."
Moments later, several figures armed with bows and spears emerged from behind the trees, ambushing them.
The three raised their hands, signaling they meant no trouble.
They were the Nymeris tribe—mountain dwellers of Sylwenna who searched anyone passing through their land.
"Where are you headed?" a Nymeris woman asked.
"Thalorien," Calantha replied.
The woman exchanged glances with the man beside her, then looked back at Calantha.
"Thalorien is in chaos. There's a war going on there. Do you know that?"
Calantha and Astraea froze.
"War? I didn't know. Who's attacking Thalorien?" Astraea asked.
"Everia attacked a few days ago. Rumor says Kali wants Queen Thalindra's daughter."
Astraea turned to Calantha. "The queen's daughter… that means Crystalia. We have to go save her."
After a brief discussion, Calantha asked for permission to continue their journey. But they were strongly advised not to travel at night. The cold in Thalorien was deadly—and the war in the snow was still raging.
Calantha convinced Astraea to stay and wait until sunrise, planning the rescue for the next morning. Astraea, though eager to act immediately, swallowed her pride and followed her sister's lead.
Kaerra—the Nymeris ranger leading the group—ensured their safety and escorted them to the Nymeris settlement.
They left the dead forest behind, entering a living woodland with towering, healthy trees. Not far ahead stood a Nymeris dwelling, protected by a tall, sturdy wooden fortress. Two guards watched from above, ready to strike down anyone who threatened their home.
Kaerra led them inside, giving them a modest shelter for the night. A cup of tea and a bowl of warm soup were served for dinner.
"By the way, I'm Kaerra, a Nymeris ranger. Mind introducing yourselves?"
"Of course. I'm Calantha. This is my sister, Astraea. And this beautiful elf is Gala."
"Calantha… Astraea… Wait—are you heading to Thalorien to meet your other sister?"
"How do you know that? I haven't even told you our purpose."
"Who doesn't know the Seven siblings? I don't know why you're really going there, but I do know Crystalia—your sister—is in Thalorien."
Calantha admitted that danger was closing in on their family. That was why she needed to reach Thalorien as soon as possible.
"I know. The danger you're talking about is Kali," Kaerra said calmly. "I figured she'd become obsessed with the Sevenvold Might."
"What's that?" Gala asked.
"An unstoppable power—if she manages to absorb every ability of Eiron and Elyriana's descendants."
Not wanting to dwell further on her family, Calantha shifted the conversation. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and everyone went to sleep.
Deep in the night, Astraea woke up, unable to hold it anymore. She stepped outside alone, bracing herself against the bone-chilling cold.
The moment she finished and took a step forward—
A sharp blade pressed against her neck.
•••
Elsewhere, Calantha woke minutes later. Astraea was gone. So was Gala.
Astraea's hands were bound, her mouth covered. She was riding atop a black jaguar, unaware of where she was being taken.
Gala was the one leading her—not toward Thalorien, but farther away from it.
Calantha immediately reported it to Kaerra. Kaerra sent several Nymeris to scour the mountains.
"Astraea! Gala! Where are you?!"
On the road, Gala was intercepted by Nymeris night patrols. Seeing Astraea restrained, they raised their weapons.
Gala said nothing.
She dismounted, lifted her spear, and killed all three of them effortlessly—alone.
•••
Back in Mythren, Rowan and Nimora were gasping for breath. They were overwhelmed—Rylan was far stronger than they expected.
"How can he be like this?" Rowan said, kneeling.
"I don't know. But one thing's clear—we can't die by his hand," Nimora replied as she healed Rowan's wounds.
They both stood up, ready to face the unwanted battle—one that could no longer be avoided.
•••••••
"The journey is far from over.
Eldoria: The Legend of the Seven will continue in Volume II"