The ridge's descent was treacherous. Loose rocks shifted under my boots, threatening to send me sprawling more than once. The Dawnhound picked its way carefully, its sharp claws digging into the earth for balance, while the Phaseling floated alongside, unbothered by gravity or the precarious terrain. I envied it for a moment. When we reached the base, my legs ached, and a thin layer of dust coated my clothes.
The structure loomed closer, its shape becoming clearer with each step. Unlike the sprawling temple, this was compact, almost modest. Moss crept along its base, and vines clung to its walls, but the stonework was intact. It stood defiant against time, a silent testament to the people who had built it. The guiding stone throbbed in my pocket, stronger now, like it was eager.
The Dawnhound growled low, its gaze fixed on the entrance—a dark archway carved into the stone. I hesitated, my hand brushing the hilt of my blade.
"Something off?" I asked though I didn't expect an answer. The Dawnhound's ears flicked back, a sign of unease. The Phaseling, on the other hand, seemed calm, its translucent form gliding ahead without hesitation.
"Of course, you're fine with this," I muttered, tightening my grip on the strap of my pack. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, crossing the threshold.
The air inside was cool and heavy, carrying the faint scent of damp stone. My footsteps echoed as I moved deeper, the light from the entrance fading quickly. I pulled a small lantern from my pack and struck it alight, its warm glow pushing back the darkness. The Dawnhound followed closely, its growls now a low rumble in its throat. The Phaseling floated ahead, illuminating the path faintly with its own soft glow.
The interior was simple, almost barren. No intricate carvings adorned the walls, and no grand altars stood in the center. Instead, the space was dominated by a single pedestal in the middle of the room. On it rested an object—a shard of crystal, its edges jagged and sharp. The guiding stone's pulse became insistent, pulling me toward it like a magnet.
I approached cautiously, every instinct telling me to be wary. The Dawnhound's growls grew louder, but it didn't move to stop me. The Phaseling hovered near the pedestal, its form shifting erratically, as if agitated.
"What is this?" I murmured, reaching out. My fingers hovered over the shard, the air around it vibrating faintly. The guiding stone in my pocket seemed to hum in response. Taking a steadying breath, I grasped the shard.
Pain lanced through my hand, sharp and searing. I almost dropped it, but some unseen force held my grip firm. Images flooded my mind—flashes of light, figures shrouded in shadow, and a voice, distant and echoing. Words I couldn't understand filled my ears, their tone urgent and commanding. Then, just as quickly, it was over.
I stumbled back, the shard clutched tightly in my hand. The Dawnhound barked sharply, its glowing eyes wide with alarm. The Phaseling flickered wildly, its form distorting and reforming in rapid succession.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered, my voice shaking. The shard's surface was warm now, pulsing faintly in time with the guiding stone. Whatever connection they shared, it was undeniable.
The ground beneath us trembled, a low rumble that sent dust cascading from the ceiling. The Dawnhound snapped its head toward the entrance, ears flat against its skull. The Phaseling darted toward me, its glow intensifying. We didn't need words to understand—we had to move.
We bolted for the exit, the Dawnhound leading the way. The tremors grew stronger, the walls groaning under the strain. By the time we burst into the open air, the structure was shaking violently, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. With a deafening roar, the entrance collapsed, sealing whatever secrets remained inside.
I doubled over, hands on my knees as I caught my breath. The shard still pulsed in my hand, its energy tingling against my skin. The Dawnhound paced nervously, its glowing eyes darting between me and the ruins. The Phaseling hovered close, its form steadying as the danger passed.
"What did I just do?" I asked, though no one could answer. The shard's glow dimmed slightly, its pulse settling into a steady rhythm. Whatever had happened inside, it wasn't over.
We didn't linger. The collapse of the structure had drawn attention—the distant cries of birds and the rustling of disturbed wildlife told me as much. I pocketed the shard, its warmth a constant reminder of what I'd taken, and set off toward the plains. The Dawnhound fell into step beside me, its growls replaced by a low whine. The Phaseling stayed close, its presence somehow more solid now.
The plains stretched out before us, a vast expanse of golden grass swaying in the breeze. The ridge behind us faded into the distance as we pressed on, the sun climbing higher into the sky. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, though I saw no sign of pursuit.
By midday, we found shelter under a cluster of trees. I dropped my pack and pulled out the shard, turning it over in my hands. The light within it seemed to shift, almost alive. The guiding stone in my pocket thrummed faintly like it was waiting for something.
"What are you?" I whispered, more to myself than the shard. The Dawnhound watched me intently, its ears pricked forward. The Phaseling drifted closer, its glow reflecting faintly off the crystal's surface.
The answer didn't come, but the weight of the shard—both physical and otherwise—was undeniable. Whatever its purpose, it was tied to the guiding stone, to the temples, and, somehow, to me.
I tucked it away and leaned back against the tree, the rough bark digging into my shoulders. The Dawnhound settled at my feet, its warmth a comfort. The Phaseling hovered nearby, its presence steady and reassuring.
The journey ahead was uncertain, and the answers I sought were still out of reach. But as I sat there, the sun casting dappled light through the leaves, I felt a flicker of resolve. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it. Not alone, but with the Dawnhound and the Phaseling by my side.
For now, that was enough.