The sun rises, but it brings no warmth.
Crows caw overhead—loud, restless. The sound echoes through the twisted trees.
Ellowen and Linda stir awake. They stand, brushing leaves and dirt off their clothes, and begin packing their belongings. Ellowen hands Linda the sleeping bag, watching as she stuffs it into her bag and pulls her crow-feather cloak over her shoulders.
"Thanks for letting me use the sleeping bag," he says with a soft smile. "It made sleeping... actually possible."
Linda smirks and gives him a playful nudge.
"You're welcome, partner. Couldn't let you cuddle up with the ants all night."
As they begin walking, Ellowen checks his wristwatch. The strange glowing needle still points steadily north.
"I wonder what's north of here... and how long it'll take to get there." He sighs. "Then again, we're walking, so… yeah. Long."
The forest around them is dim, shadows stretching between the gnarled trunks. Weapons lie scattered in the undergrowth—rusted blades, broken spears, shields half-buried in dead leaves. Here and there, they pass old corpses, some long decayed, others newer, as if the land refuses to bury them. The crows don't seem to mind.
Linda's eyes wander from Ellowen's side, where a sword hangs sheathed, to the pouch on his back.
"So... I've got something to confess," she mutters. "When I was dragging your half-dead self out of that ruined village, I may have… accidentally peeked in your pouch."
Ellowen snaps his head toward her, narrowing his eyes.
"What. The. Heck," he mutters, deadpan. "You know that makes you sound more suspicious, right?"
"The pouch just fell open!" she protests, holding her hands up. "It was an accident!"
"Uh-huh. Sure."
Linda pokes his arm, ignoring the glare.
"You didn't tell me you had an M.E. lamp," she says, a grin tugging at her lips.
Ellowen's tail twitches slightly.
"M.E. stands for...?"
"Magical Engineered. Your lamp's one. So are your shoes, actually."
Ellowen frowns, glancing down at his feet.
"I knew they weren't normal. Never wear out, grip like glue... I figured they were just high-end boots."
"Yeah, well, they're better than high-end. They're enchanted tech. Pretty rare these days."
He pulls the lamp from his pouch. It's palm-sized, metallic, and smooth. Holding it up, he notices a line of red script along the side.
"Crecer y iluminar," he reads aloud.
The lamp whirs softly. With a sudden click, it expands in his hand, and a brilliant flame ignites inside, casting a fierce light.
"Whoa," he breathes, eyes wide.
The wind stirs their cloaks as the firelight flickers. Around them, the forest seems to shrink away from the glow—almost like it fears the light.
Linda laughs and pulls a small orb from her coat pocket.
"Same phrase."
She says it. The orb grows, floats into the air, and shines like a mini sun above them, pushing back the gloom.
"See? This is what we use to light up caves," she says proudly.
Ellowen looks from the hovering orb to his hand-lamp, unimpressed.
"Okay, how come yours is better?"
Linda smirks.
"Yours is a lamp. It's got a heat rune and a size rune. Great in a storm or when you're freezing to death. Mine's got three: light, size, and weight. But it needs a recharge and doesn't last as long."
She squints up at her orb.
"Encogerse y atenuarse."
The orb shrinks, dims, and floats down into her hand.
Ellowen repeats the phrase for his lamp. It contracts instantly, going dim, and he tucks it back into his pouch.
"So... the shoes. You think they've got runes too?"
"Probably," she says. "But they're really well-integrated. Need to realy know your runes to see how deep they go-plus to make something this good you are going to need engineers, rune crafts and mages."
As they walk, the forest begins to thin. More signs of battle litter the trail—dented helmets, shattered bones, and blood-slick rocks. The land here is cracked and gray, like it's been drained. Even the air feels wrong—stale, heavy, as if the earth itself is too tired to breathe.
"Elemental magic," Ellowen mutters, eyes scanning the path ahead. "Where does that fit in?"
Linda's tone shifts, becoming lighter.
"Way easier than Magical Engineering," she says. "Everyone has an affinity—fire, ice, lightning, earth, whatever. Some folks get two, if they're close—like water and ice."
She steps over a burned-out log, then raises her hand.
"Mana's in the air. Elemental mages just... pull from it."
A small stream of water spins into her palm, glimmering in the weak sunlight.
"This? Not from nowhere. It's water condensed from ambient mana. Ice is just... lowering the temp. You don't have to be a genius—just focused."
They reach the forest's edge. The trees fall away to reveal a barren field. A crumbling village stretches across the open land. Some of the houses look melted. Others have been fused into the ground. All of them are lifeless.
But the ground isn't.
It moves.
A shadow stretches across the field. Over the hills, something massive lumbers forward—its wings like torn banners of crimson fire, its scales black and cracked. The dragon roars, belching flame onto the terrain below. The ground shudders violently.
At first, they think it's the dragon's doing.
Then the land itself rises. Hills shift. Trees bend. Houses sink as if sliding off a sleeping giant's back.
And then it rises fully.
A colossus.
A beast of stone, rust, roots, and bone. Eyes like molten wells burn in its skull-shaped head. Its mouth yawns open, deep and rumbling—a sound like tectonic plates grinding against each other.
The dragon screeches and dives at it, blasting fire. The colossus roars back, unshaken.
Linda reacts first. With a burst of black feathers, her cloak transforms, enveloping her as she becomes a giant crow and takes to the air.
"Ellowen!" she screams, wings beating frantically.
High in a tree, Ellowen clings to a thick branch. The world has become a storm of wind, fire, and shifting stone beneath him. He stares down, heart hammering, caught between sky and earth, wondering how he's supposed to survive any of this.