Gray awoke on cold stone, shivering uncontrollably. The chill crept through his skin like living ice, crawling into the hollows of his bones. His fingers twitched, numb and stiff. His face was pressed against rough rock, damp with condensation. A slow breath escaped him, visible in the dim light that filtered through rusted bars above.
'Where... where am I?' He struggled to get his thoughts together.
He blinked slowly. Pain stabbed through his temples.
Was he alive?
Had the Pale Maw killed him?
Was this the underworld?
Ever since he had arrived on Nyxterra he couldn't help but question everything he saw.
Monsters, superpowers, tales and legends...
None of this could be understood by his brain.
He tried to push himself upright, but his arms were bound tightly behind him by something metallic. The cuff around his wrists was unnaturally smooth, humming with a faint pulse. Cold, unyielding, and threaded with power he didn't understand. Each movement brought fire up his spine.
His Vyre was gone, or that's what it felt like. It felt dormant, hidden almost. His connection to it had been cut clean, like nerves severed with a blade. His core was silent, still. His body felt foreign.
It wasn't like before, where he could feel his Vyre and channel it. Here, it was entirly nonexistent.
He looked down at himself. Shirtless, barefoot, scraped raw. Thin bruises marked his chest and ribs, blooming like smudges of ink. A fine layer of frost clung to his skin, and his breath came ragged and shallow. He lay inside a narrow stone cell. Bare walls. No windows. One wooden bucket in the corner. The only door was thick, reinforced with metal bands and a grated slit near the top.
He shifted to his side and stared at the bars above. They glowed faintly with pale blue light. Old, rusted and cold.
He tried again to move, teeth clenched against the pain. As soon as he strained against the cuffs, his Vyre veins screamed. Not just resistance, but something worse, a backlash, like his own power had turned against him. His muscles spasmed and gave out.
Gasping, he leaned against the wall, chest heaving.
A voice echoed beyond the cell. Low. Guttural. Words he couldn't understand. It wasn't a language he recognized. There was a rhythm to it. Like ritual. Ancient.
"Hello?" he rasped. His voice was dry, more air than sound. "Anyone there?"
Footsteps.
Two figures appeared at the door. Cloaked in fur, their faces hidden behind pale bone masks with thin eye slits. Their armor was leather layered with metal, edged in frost. Gray couldn't see their eyes. Couldn't read anything behind their silence.
"I'm not your enemy," he said. "Let me out. Please." he pleaded with whatever strength he had.
Neither spoke. They merely watched him.
Then they turned and left.
Gray was left with his chaotic thoughts once again.
Time passed. How much, he couldn't say. Minutes? Hours? Longer? Hunger knotted his stomach. His throat was parched. The cuffs stayed tight, pulsing with quiet energy. Every now and then, voices passed beyond the walls. Male. Female. Harsh and clipped.
Eventually, the door groaned open.
The same two masked guards stepped inside. One motioned for him to stand.
Gray stared up at them, body trembling. He pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking. As the guard reached for him, Gray acted.
He swung a leg low, kicking the guard's knee. The other stepped forward, grabbing for his arm. Gray threw himself forward, headbutting him hard enough to draw a gasp.
Pain exploded through his skull.
He reached for Vyre, instinctively. This time he found it.
'Yes! Haha I knew—'
His joy lasted only a second as he was hit with a wall of burning agony. His body convulsed. His limbs buckled. He collapsed.
A blow struck his stomach. Then another.
He fell face first onto the hard floor.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.
They dragged him to his knees. Something cold slid over his face. A mask. The world went black.
He was dragged across stone. The sound of boots echoed against walls. His thoughts blurred. Along the way he heard them speak in a language hw didn't understand. All he could make out was what he thought was curses and swearing. Or atleast it sounded like it.
Then he heard voices calling out.
One female. Familiar.
'Adel?'
Then a shout.
'Korr?'
He strained to hear, but it was muffled. Distant.
He smiled bitterly under the mask at their well being.
He was lead through dozens of corridors and doors until they suddenly stopped.
They took of his mask and revealed two large wooden doors.
One of the guards kicked them open, letting rhe bright light burn into Gray's eyes.
He brought up his hands to cover his eyes instinctively, the other guard then pushed Gray into the large chamber.
They quickly closed the doors behind him as Gray was left worried, confused.
He glanced around.
He was in a large stone chamber. Unnaturally large.
Dozens of people filled it. Lined along the walls on carved benches. They wore thick robes, bone jewelry, and gloves of hide. Their eyes watched him. Silent. Judging.
Another guard appeared by Gray's side. He pulled him by the arm forward down a red carpet.
Gray was shoved to his knees just as he reached the front.
Lira sat beside him, blood staining her coat. Her eyes were hard, unreadable. To his other side, Orrin sat with his head down, but alive.
Ahead stood a throne.
Carved from glacier rock, it rose like an altar. Upon it sat a man dressed in layers of grey and silver fur. A crown of bone adorned his head. His gaze was sharp. Cold.
He felt it. Pressure. Not like fear. Not like battle.
This was weight. Authority that cracked the air.
The guard beside him spoke. "Bow before the Kaan." The guards suddenly spoke in his language. Stunning Gray.
He tried to look up but the pressure intensified. His neck buckled. He dropped his gaze.
The Kaan stood.
He spoke one sentence. In a foreign language everyone except him understood.
A young woman stepped forward. Silver-haired. Pale-skinned. Her robes shimmered slightly with fine thread. She spoke fluidly in Gray's language.
"The Kaan demands to know. Why have you entered Glacierfang?"
He looked around for a second, collecting his thoughts.
'So she's his translator i presume... it's best I try to be on good terms with the Kaan. Or else I really will die this time...'
Gray's voice cracked. "We had no choice. We were forced."
The Kaan frowned for a second bwfore speaking again.
Another question.
"What is your name? Your purpose?"
"My name is Gray," he replied calmy. "We were...on an expedition. We didn't come to steal or fight. Only to survive " he decided tl keep a few details out. The less he knew the better.
The Kaan raised his hand.
The translator stepped forward. "Silence, outsider."
Gray's jaw tightened. He didn't dare speak again.
Two guards stepped forward. Cold steel pressed to his neck. The same to Lira.
Then, unexpectedly she stood up.
Chains rattled and the swords pressed tighter to her neck.
The guards shouted louldy in another language. Indicating her to settle down. But Lira ignored it.
She quickly spoke. Not in their language.In the Kaan's language. Clear. Firm.
The room stilled.
Many of the people watching were stunned, shocked. Including Gray.
She spoke again. Her voice carried. Confident. Precise.
The Kaan tilted his head.
Then, he laughed.
A deep, booming sound that filled the room. He descended the steps from the throne, each one slow and deliberate.
'Shit! Did she piss him off?!' Gray's mind almost collapsed from his fear.
He stood before Lira. Towering over her.
She didn't flinch.
The pressure radiating off him swelled. Even the guards stiffened.
Still, she met his eyes.
He spoke.
The translator stepped forward.
"The Kaan says: You are strange. But brave. You speak our tongue. You offer a deal. Why should he not execute you?"
'A trade?! She's trying to make a deal in our current position? Is she mad?!' Gray almost felt like screaming but kept quiet.
Lira responded. Calm. Unwavering. Gray didn't know the words, but he saw the effect.
The Kaan nodded slowly.
He turned to the crowd.
They grew silent at a single gesture.
He spoke in their language. A proclamation.
Then, turning back to Gray, his eyes narrowed.
"You will serve," the translator said. "Prove strength. Survive our test. Then you will speak with the Kaan again."
The guards moved.
Chains fell.
The translator bowed slightly. "The Kaan has accepted your plea. You are not guests. You are observed. Betray us, and you will not see another dawn."
Gray stood, legs trembling.
'Thank God...' he continued to repeat this in his mind but deep down he knew that whatever favour they owed him was going to be far from easy.
He looked to Orrin and gave him a small nod.
Lira remained upright, but Gray had noticed her hands were trembling slightly. Even she had been affected by the man's presence.
The doors opened.
They were led out back from where they came.
Behind them, the stone doors closed.
And the cold came rushing in.