The veins of gold and silver led them forward like faint trails of light, pulling their steps into a narrowing corridor. The air thickened, heavy and strange, until at last the stone opened into a vast chamber.
The sight struck them both into silence.
It was a throne room, though unlike any they had seen in their lives. The throne itself sat at the far end, elevated on three worn steps. It was carved from the same stone as the walls, yet its surface was faded, eroded by time, as if centuries of dust had pressed down upon it. The once-sharp edges had dulled, and the walls behind it bore reliefs so weathered that only hints of their original forms remained. Scenes of battles, of crowned figures, of something like a great tree reaching the heavens, now blurred into half-ghostly shapes.
"You did say something would be here, right?" Sorrin asked cautiously.
"Yep," Renn replied.
As they stepped further in, the silence broke. A low vibration coursed through the stone beneath their feet, subtle at first, then rising until the very air seemed to tremble. From the shadows at the edges of the chamber, something stirred.
It emerged slowly, its form dragging itself into the thin glow. At first, it was a crawling mass of limbs, jointed like broken branches. Its body shimmered as if coated in oil, the surface rippling with curse flow that Renn's blessing could almost taste. Its head bent low, faceless save for the gaping hollow where a mouth should have been.
Sorrin's hand tightened on his revolver. "Seems pretty strong to me, think we can take it?"
"I have a feeling we will be forced to find out," Renn muttered, his voice taut. He reached into his coat and drew his weapon.
The dagger he pulled free was no ordinary blade. Forged from steel so dark it seemed to drink the light, its edge shimmered faintly with a ripple like water. Along the flat of the blade, tiny runes had been etched, their lines delicate yet sharp, pulsing faintly with a silver glow. The hilt was wrapped in deep blue leather, worn from years of use.
Sorrin cocked his revolver, but Renn shot him a sharp glance. "Save your bullets. Aim only when I tell you."
The abomination lunged before either of them could speak again. Its limbs whipped forward, striking with unnatural speed. Renn moved like a shadow, the dagger flashing in tight arcs. Sparks burst where steel met corrupted flesh, but for every cut he carved, the thing reformed, curse flow knitting its body back together.
"Now!" Renn shouted.
Sorrin fired a shot, the crack echoing like thunder in the chamber. The bullet struck true, tearing through one of its limbs, but even that wound twisted closed within seconds.
"This isn't working!" Sorrin shouted.
"I noticed," Renn growled, slipping beneath a strike that would have skewered him through the chest. He slashed upwards, runes along the dagger flaring bright, and for a heartbeat, the abomination shrieked as the dagger cut its flesh.
The abomination struck again. This time, its limb caught him square in the side, hurling him across the room with bone-cracking force. He slammed into the stone steps of the throne, blood streaking across the marble as he fell.
"Renn!"
Sorrin tried to run to him, but the creature was faster. Another strike lashed out, catching him square in the chest. The world spun as his body slammed against the far wall. His revolver clattered across the floor out of reach. For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
Through the haze of pain, he saw Renn pinned against the steps. His leg twisted beneath him at a sickening angle, his dagger lost somewhere in the debris. He tried to push himself up, but his body betrayed him.
The abomination loomed over him. Its hollow maw widened, limbs rearing back for the killing blow.
"No," Sorrin rasped, his voice breaking. He clawed at the stone, dragging himself forward though his body screamed in protest. "No, not like this… not him."
His voice cracked, turning into something desperate, almost a prayer.
Suddenly, the world around him froze.
Sorrin's breath trembled in his throat. The chamber was still, every sound stolen, even the abomination frozen mid-strike. Its limbs hung suspended in the air like a grotesque sculpture.
Then came the voice.
Soft, clear, and resonant. It rang within his skull as though it were not heard but planted there, taking root. A woman's voice, calm yet immense, carrying a weight that pressed against his very being.
"So, it seems you are the recipient of one of the Primordial Branches."
Sorrin flinched, eyes darting around, though nothing moved.
What is this? Who is speaking to me?
"I am the one who rests within you now," the voice replied, steady and unshaken. "I am the embodiment of the World Tree itself."
His chest tightened; the name alone made his blood chill. The World Tree was looked upon as incredibly sacred and a force that helped mankind, but it was still shrouded in much mystery. "That's impossible," he muttered under his breath. "You can't be real."
Sorrin stopped for a bit, then nervously laughed.
"This must be what people under severe stress experience, right? Some weird hallucination."
"It is not impossible," the voice said. "You absorbed a fragment, the Primordial Branch. It bound you to me. The branch reshaped your flow, rooted it in my own, and in doing so gave me form within your mind."
Sorrin's head shook in disbelief. He could not even begin to understand her words. Flow, branches, links, all of it blurred into something meaningless in the face of what lay before him. Renn was dying. The abomination towered only feet away, waiting for time to move again.
"I don't care about this," Sorrin rasped. His throat felt dry, his words hollow. "If you are what you claim, then tell me this. Can you save him? Can you save Renn?"
There was silence for a long moment. Then the voice spoke once more, slow and deliberate. "I suppose. But nothing is given freely. To grant you the power you seek, I must also grant you its weight. All blessings must be balanced by curses. That is the law that even I cannot trespass."
Sorrin's eyes burned as he pressed his hands against the stone, forcing himself upright. "Do it, whatever it takes to save him and get us out of this hellhole!"
"Very well," she said. And though her voice was even, a faint sorrow laced through it, as though she mourned what must follow. "Then you shall carry my blessing, and with it, a curse."
Sorrin clenched his jaw. The words struck deep, but they could not shake him. "If that is the price, I will pay it, whatever it may be."
"Then it is done," the voice whispered. And just as suddenly as it had come, it faded.
The chamber lurched back into motion. The abomination's limb swung down, Renn's body shuddered beneath the weight of his injuries, and the suffocating silence broke.
Sorrin did not think. He only focused.
The stone floor trembled beneath his hands. Cracks split outward in jagged lines, and from them burst roots, thick and gnarled, as if the earth itself had been hiding a forest beneath its skin. They coiled upward, wrapping around the abomination's limbs, tightening with crushing force. The creature shrieked, its hollow maw vibrating with a sound that seemed to tear at the air.
More roots erupted, spearing through its body, lifting it high above the chamber floor. The abomination thrashed, oil-slick flesh twisting and knitting back together, but the roots only dug deeper.
Sorrin felt it in his veins. The rush of energy, wild and unrelenting, as the roots siphoned the curse flow out of the creature. Its writhing slowed, its strength bled away, until finally it sagged in the air like a husk, drained of all that had animated it.
The roots shuddered, then split apart, dropping the empty shell to the floor. It struck the stone with a hollow crack, limbs sprawled lifeless, the last traces of its corruption fading into nothing.
Sorrin's chest heaved. His vision blurred. The world swam as the weight of what he had done pressed into him. His skin prickled, his mind throbbed, and deep inside, he felt something change.
But Renn still breathed. And that was all that mattered.