The tunnels twisted ahead.Dark stains ran down the stone, like it was bleeding.
Every step echoed too long.Like the darkness was listening.
Reylen glanced back."Something's behind us."
Nyra nodded."I feel it too."
Vael didn't speak.The crown pulsed against his skull.
He kept walking.
They passed old carvings.Faded names. Forgotten kings.
"Do you think he meant it?" Nyra asked."That we'll all forget who we are?"
Vael's eyes stayed forward."I already feel it slipping."
His hand clenched."I won't let it."
Behind them—movement.Something slithered.
Reylen spun around.Sword drawn.
A figure crawled from the dark.No face. No skin.
It wore a broken crown.
Nyra raised her hand.Light bloomed—pale and cold.
The creature hissed.Its body was stitched from shadows.
It didn't attack.Just stared.
"Another lost one," Reylen muttered."A shade."
Vael stepped forward.The crown on his head whispered.
"He wore me. He fell."
The shade trembled.And spoke—not with a mouth.
But directly into their minds.
"Turn back... Before it buries you too..."
Then it melted.Back into the black.
Reylen exhaled slowly."These tunnels are cursed."
"They're not tunnels," Vael said."They're graves."
They walked in silence after that.Even the whispers quieted.
Eventually, light returned.A pale blue from above.
The surface.
They climbed.
Broke through frost and root—into a dead forest.
But the sky wasn't sky.It was ash.
And ahead—
Ruins.
A village, half buried.Blackened bones in the snow.
Nyra froze."…This was my home."
Reylen knelt beside a burned symbol.Recognition in his eyes.
"We're far north.No one should live out here."
Vael stared at the ruins.Then up, at the crown's shadow on the snow.
"I think something's drawing us here."
The trees groaned.Like they breathed.
Far in the forest—a figure watched.
Not a shade.Not a man.
It wore no crown.But its eyes burned white.