"What… the hell was that?"
Victor's voice cracked halfway through the sentence. His grip tightened around the handle of his hammer, knuckles whitening as his eyes darted wildly across the ruined hall. The shadows still clung to the pillars, stretching and recoiling like things reluctant to leave. The air hummed faintly, heavy with old magic that pressed against the chest and refused to let go.
Raul was already moving.
Not panicked, never panicked. His body slid into a low, ready stance, daggers loose in his hands, shoulders relaxed but coiled like a wolf about to lunge. His eyes tracked everything at once: ceiling, floor, shadows, altar, statue. Every muscle was prepared to kill or die in the next heartbeat.
Arin didn't move.
He stood still, eyes narrowed, mind racing. Something had changed. Not an attack. Not a presence like the stone knights. This was… different. The air had rippled, just for a fraction of a second. Like reality itself had blinked.
Then—
Something flashed in front of Victor's face.
A blur. A streak of light. Too close.
"AHHHHHHH—!"
"EEEEeeee—!"
Two screams rang out at the same time.
Victor stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, swinging his hammer wildly at empty air. At the same moment, the thing that had appeared shrieked just as loudly, spiraling upward in a frantic tumble, flapping wildly as if trying to escape certain death.
Both froze.
Victor stared.
The thing stared back.
It was small. Tiny, really, barely the size of a cat. Feminine in shape, glowing faintly, hovering in midair. Gossamer wings fluttered behind it, translucent and trembling. Long hair shimmered like silver threads, and its wide eyes were filled with raw, unfiltered terror.
Silence stretched.
Arin blinked.
"…A fairy?" he blurted out.
The tiny creature froze midair.
Then—
"You know about fairies?!"
Her terror vanished instantly, replaced by explosive joy. She zipped forward, stopping inches from Arin's face, spinning in excited loops around his head.
"How? How? How do you know? But how?" she chirped rapidly. "All the fairies are supposed to be extinct thousands of years ago!"
Arin flinched slightly at her sudden proximity. "Ahem. I've… read about them. In books."
Her glow dimmed.
"Oh," she said, drooping midair. "Books…"
Raul stepped in, eyes never leaving her. "Wait, if, as you said, they're extinct," he said flatly, "then what exactly are you?"
The fairy perked up again. "Ohhh! I died too!"
Victor's soul nearly left his body.
"Oh for fuck's—" he started.
"By the way, name's Maelyn!" the fairy continued cheerfully. "The Temple of Trials kept me in spirit form and made me its guardian and guide to young lost souls like you."
Victor's face went pale.
"Y-you mean you're a G-Gh—" He swallowed hard. "Ghost?"
"Yeah!" Maelyn beamed. "You can say that. Teehee." She blinked exaggeratedly.
Victor took a step back. "Nope. I don't like that."
Arin rubbed his temple. "So… what exactly are you doing here?"
Maelyn puffed up proudly. "As I said! I'm the guardian of this temple. I guide lost souls like you to their trials."
Raul frowned. "Trials?"
"Ohh," she said, tilting her head. "You actually know nothing? Then let me explain—"
Arin groaned. "This never ends well."
Maelyn cleared her throat dramatically and floated higher, her glow intensifying.
"Ten thousand years ago, in Solkara, there were nine races in total. Drakari. Glassborn. Ashkin. Veylori. Myrren. Thal'ren. Humans." She paused. "And also Fairies and Wildkins."
Victor blinked. "Never heard of the last two."
"They all lived in peace," Maelyn continued, "until the Abyss Nation attacked."
"What?!" Three of them exclaimed together.
"Ahem!" Maelyn waved her hands. "Joking. Joking."
Arin stared at her flatly.
She coughed. "Anyway. Each race had its own demigod, worshipped as real gods. Until one day… a rogue demigod emerged. He called himself the God of the Abyss."
The air seemed to grow colder.
"His power was dark. Corrupting. It twisted everything it touched. So the nine demigods declared war against him. It was brutal." Her voice softened. "And hopeless."
Arin's jaw tightened.
"The Abyss God corrupted the God of Wildkins," Maelyn continued. "And through him, the entire race. They turned into mad beasts, plunging upon the other races like animals."
Arin felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"One by one, the demigods fell," Maelyn said quietly. "Until the God of Fairies made his final choice."
She looked down.
"He burned the fairy race core. Himself included."
Silence.
"The other demigods sacrificed themselves to create an opening," she said. "And the Fairy King struck. He ended the Abyss God… by sacrificing our entire race."
Victor swallowed. "Meaning…?"
"No new fairies will be born," Maelyn said softly. "Ever again."
The glow around her flickered.
"Though the Abyss God died," she continued, "his shadow remained. The Wildkin who were corrupted by it are what you now call monsters. The corruption stripped away their intelligence, but twisted their bodies to breed faster. In time, they overwhelmed the land through sheer numbers."
Arin clenched his fists.
"It is prophesied," Maelyn said, voice echoing faintly through the hall, "that one day, his shadow will rise again. And only the Hero, believed by all seven remaining races, can end it once and for all."
"Holy fucking lore dump," Arin muttered.
Victor exhaled shakily. "Of course."
"This temple," Maelyn said, gesturing around them, "is one of five. Built by the Fairy God with his last remaining power. The Temple of Trials."
Raul's eyes flicked to the statues.
"With success," she continued, "you gain the strength you need, and leave."
"And failure?" Arin asked quietly.
Maelyn smiled, sad and small.
"Your soul is lost. Forever. You wander this city… as stone."
Victor's breath hitched.
Victor snapped his head toward the statues. "Wait—those are actually humans?"
"Were," Maelyn corrected.
Raul's voice was steady. "So if we fail… we become one of those."
"Bingoooo," Maelyn chirped.
Arin closed his eyes. "And this is the only way out."
"Precisely."
Silence fell.
"Fuck this shit," all three said at once, again.