Raelith ran as if his life depended on it—because it did.
The explosion behind him had fractured something deep inside. A part of him died with Seraphine. Her final spell—the forbidden flame—echoed in his bones. So did her last words:
"Run… live for me."
The forest blurred around him. Branches like claws, sharp roots reaching for his ankles. His lungs burned with every breath. His legs shook but refused to stop. Death Valley was supposed to be a myth, a warning, yet he was stumbling straight into it.
Behind him, voices roared.
"Damn bitch used a forbidden spell!" Sylas screamed, wrenching himself free from the blast's shockwave. His face was twisted into rage and fear. "Follow that bastard and kill him!"
The guards rallied, their armor jangling, eyes wild. "This place is cursed!"
"And these trees…" another raspy voice added. "We shouldn't—"
"I don't care!" Sylas spat. "Find him!"
Raelith didn't dare look back.
She saved me. He sobbed in his mind. I will not die here.
He fled deeper, the forest darkening. Not for lack of light—moonlight barely pierced the canopy—but a suffocating heaviness settled into his bones. The air tasted stale, like stale blood.
In the distance, branches cracked—close. A spear whistled overhead. He felt it slice through leaves. He dodged, half because of reflex, half because of terror.
"Over there!" one guard shouted from behind the trees. "The kid's heading south!"
"Towards the valley," another growled, fear creeping in his voice.
"Death Valley?" Sylas muttered harshly. "He's going into Death Valley?"
They pushed on, though each step trembled. The forest swallowed their voices, their torches grew dim, their confidence faded.
The Forbidden Woods
Raelith stumbled over a knotted root and crashed face-first into the earth. Pain blossomed in his forehead. He spat blood, gasping. For a moment, he thought about letting himself die here, so far from home, far from grief.
But then a bright fragment of Seraphine's smile glowed in his memory. He'd promised to live for her. He forced himself upright. Staggered. But he moved again.
Behind him, the guards hesitated.
One cursed quietly. "We shouldn't go further. This place…"
"Shut up," Sylas barked. But even he sounded unsure.
Raelith barely heard them. His world had narrowed to footfalls and breaths. He didn't notice the ground change until his shoes crunched on brittle, cracked stone. No roots, no leaves—just barren earth, etched with fissures that seemed to breathe.
Feet bare from broken boots, he didn't care anymore.
The Arrival
Later—though time here was meaningless—he came upon a clearing that hadn't been there before. And it terrified him.
The world in front of him looked untouched by life. Trees were gnarled, twisted inward. Stones were blackened and pitted. A single cave mouth yawned at the far side, half-hidden beneath an unnatural overhang.
No animals stirred. No wind brushed leaves.
It felt as if the entire land watched.
Raelith stepped forward, drawn by pain and curiosity, and fear. His knees cracked as he sank to them.
Behind him, a torch beam danced across the valley's edge.
"They're close," Sylas hissed. "Be ready."
A guard's voice cracked: "It's him."
"Don't let him—" The command cut off as all light vanished from the torches. Even the fire flickered out.
Sylas cursed. "Light! Light!"
But nothing came.
The guards murmured fearfully.
"Death Valley…"
"Why do we keep going?"
"He's cursed. Cursed!"
Yet they edged forward, hunting the boy they barely knew.
Raelith slipped into the cave entrance, falling to his knees in the dark.
The Cave and the Chains
The moment he passed the threshold, the air shifted. Cool, alive, ancient. Raelith's breath came in shaky gasps.
He pulled a small crystal from his pocket—thankless trinket from Seraphine—and held it aloft. It glowed, a pale, quivering light.
Inside, the cavern walls were slick with moisture and glimmered with faint veins of crystalline ore. The sound of dripping water echoed.
Then he saw her.
A figure chained to the far wall, part-hidden by shadow. A woman. Her robes torn. Her hair tangled. Her body bound by chains—strange, living chains that pulsed, wriggled, as if breathing.
She was unconscious—or worse.
Raelith stumbled toward her. The cave trembled.
Nearby, he realized a second presence: a pillar of stone carved with runes glowing faintly in the amber lantern light he held.
He knelt before the chained woman, eyes widening. She wasn't a stranger. Something about her eyes—and lips—felt familiar. But he couldn't place it.
He touched the chain. It recoiled like a snake.
Raelith jumped back, then his fingers involuntarily curled outwards.
He looked again at the runestone.
It pulsed with the same red light he remembered glimpsing in Death Valley's heart—like his soul had brushed against something ancient, old as Bridia itself.
The place seemed alive.
The cavern walls dripped, the air thickened, the echo deepened.
The Guards Close In
Behind him, he heard footsteps in cold rhythm.
"They went in—someone must've seen!"
Sylas barked. "They have torches!"
The guards called from outside the cave, but their voices were small. Afraid.
Raelith sat still, kneeling on rough stone, staring at the chained form and the runestone.
He felt numbness in every nerve.
How did he come here? Why?
Seraphine's words hammered at him.
"Live… for me."
She'd given everything. He'd survived this far. And now… now there was something here. Something more.
He clenched his fists. He looked at the chained woman—helpless, broken.
A spark flickered.
"Yes," he whispered. "I won't die. Not now."
The runestone pulsed brighter.
From outside, footsteps slowed.
A guard muttered, "I don't like this… let's just go."
Sylas hissed a curse. "Bring him out—"
The crystal in Raelith's hand glowed stronger.
He rose slowly, stepping back from the woman and approaching the runestone.
A connection sparked—a low hum.
The chains began to clink and sway.
Raelith flinched.
The ground trembled.
"Now!" he whispered, more to himself than anyone.
He grabbed the chained woman's wrist, and for a moment her eyes flickered open.
One look into her gaze—and Raelith stumbled. Familiarity twisted in his blood. Memory he couldn't place.
Moments from death valley's darkness, he whispered:
"I promise… I will live."
And as the cave went black, the runestone's glow washed over him.