Horizon slowly came to his senses, disoriented and aching. Pain seared through his body, the first cruel reminder that he was still alive. The second was the dry, gritty dust that filled his nose and throat. He staggered to his feet, coughing violently. No doubt about it — he had survived.
He'd been certain that was the end. Tragic, really, since it had only been days since his new life began. But here he was, alive. Barely.
Around him, the wreckage of the ancient sled was strewn across the jagged landscape, shattered like glass. The once-proud tribe that had surrounded him was now reduced to a scattering of corpses — some impaled on broken bones, others crushed against rocks. The crash had been brutal, unforgiving.
A few survivors stumbled through the carnage, but they were barely human now — crippled, disoriented, their minds shattered by the trauma. Their moans filled the air, a symphony of despair. Their vacant, hollow eyes wandered aimlessly, as if refusing to accept the horror laid before them.
Then, something shifted.
Horizon felt the chill of dread as those same eyes turned toward him, but this time with something darker — hungry madness. The broken bodies, once still in death, began to twitch. Slowly, painfully, they crawled from the wreckage, their twisted forms writhing toward him.
"Horizon!" a voice cut through the chaos.
He spun around and spotted Von, relief washing over him. Somehow, his friend had made it through unscathed.
"Von!" he called back. "Cappy!"
"Are you okay?" Von's voice was tight with concern, eyes scanning Horizon's injuries.
Cappy swooped down, wings flapping as he hovered above them. "I'm still processing the essence — I can't heal anyone right now."
Von shot him a frustrated glance. "You really need to work on speeding up that digestion of yours! If not for those potions that Horizon shared with me, I wouldn't have survive!"
Horizon nodded, pulling out a potion and downing it in one gulp. The healing warmth spread through him, but his supply was running dangerously low. At least the silver chest from before had provided more. There was also the [Golden Chest] but he didn't have the
"Yeah . . . but where the hell are we?" Horizon asked, his gaze sweeping over the nightmarish scene.
"This is bad. We need to get out of here, fast. We're way too close to Nixis' lair," Von muttered, his voice tense as he scanned the desolate surroundings.
"What about the others?" Horizon asked, glancing around, hoping for some sign of life among the wreckage.
Von's expression turned grim as he shook his head. "They're gone, Horizon. There's nothing we can do for them."
Horizon felt his heart sink, the crushing weight of reality settling in. The Amberskins were no more. How could an entire tribe be wiped out in an instant, swallowed by this twisted nightmare? His mind struggled to comprehend it.
He just arrived here a few days ago and now the tribe was gone? It reminded him once more of how dangerous Drakha is. More dangerous than Eternia. He really needed to get out of here, fast!
Von placed a reassuring hand on Horizon's shoulder. "We did everything we could . . . but some things are beyond our control."
Before they could even process the tragedy, the remains of the Amberskins — now twisted into something far worse — began to stir. The corpses of the tribe rose from the shattered debris, eyes glowing with unnatural light, their bodies animated by dark magic.
In a horrid twist of fate, the Amberskins had become a horde of runecorpses — rune-powered undead cursed by the Nix brood.
Von's blood ran cold. "Oh no . . . that's Vodgo . . ."
Standing at the center of the horde was the former Chief Vodgo, now a towering Runecorpse Ruler, surrounded by the undead forms of those they once called family: Atyan, Linji, Rysamora, Nukkos. All corrupted by the dark magic of the Nix brood.
"They're . . all of them . . ." Horizon's voice faltered. These weren't just enemies — they were people he knew, people he had fought for, lived beside. Killing them a second time was unthinkable.
"What do we do?" Von asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Horizon's face darkened with the same dilemma, but before he could answer, a deep, cavernous voice echoed in his mind. The same voice that had called to him back at the Husks.
'Come to me . . .'
Horizon's eyes darted toward the Great Mausoleum, the ancient structure looming ominously in the distance.
"What? What is that?" he muttered, his gaze locked on the Mausoleum before he bolted towards it.
"Horizon! Where are you going?" Von yelled as Horizon suddenly sprinted toward it.
"That place is dangerous!" Von's voice wavered with indecision. Chase after Horizon into the unknown depths of the Mausoleum and risk running into Nixis — or stay and fight the Amberskins, killing the tribe a second time just to escape to nowhere?
The Cleave was gone, and with just the two of them, returning to the Husks was suicide. The Catacomb Reaches offered no safe haven — everywhere was crawling with Dragon Nix and even worse, the dreaded Dracolichs.
Von clenched his fists, then made his decision. He had no choice. The Mausoleum was the only place they hadn't explored, and if Horizon believed there was a way out in there, he had to trust him.
He bit his lip and raced after Horizon, toward the Mausoleum — their last hope to escape this cursed wasteland.
"Horizon, wait for me!" Von shouted, sprinting after him. Behind them, the Amberskin corpses halted their pursuit, as if the very presence of the Mausoleum repelled them.
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|| A/N ||
A few more chapters and we're going to Eternia were the real story begins.
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