The group left the collapsed chamber at first light. The Blackwater Ruins lay silent behind them, the faint hum of energy gone. It felt like a victory—but it didn't feel like enough.
Elara trudged beside Oran, the weight of Dain's sacrifice pressing down on her chest. She had barely known him, but his face was etched in her mind now, alongside the words he'd spoken: Make it count.
Lyra walked ahead, her sharp gaze constantly scanning the terrain. Even now, she moved with the precision of a predator, every step calculated, her bow always within reach. Kael followed at the rear, quiet and thoughtful, his expression unreadable.
The swamp had grown quieter since the collapse of the Convergence Point. Even the mist seemed thinner, as though the land itself were holding its breath.
"Where do we go now?" Oran finally broke the silence. His voice was subdued, lacking its usual bravado.
"To the next ruin," Kael replied simply.
Elara frowned. "There's another one?"
Kael nodded. "Convergence Points don't exist in isolation. They're linked—like a network. Destroying one isn't enough if the others are still active. Lucius will just move to the next one."
"And if he gets there first?" Oran asked.
Lyra glanced back over her shoulder. "Then we'll find a way to stop him. Again."
There was no arrogance in her tone—just a quiet, unshakable certainty.
Later that day, the group stopped at a clearing to rest. The swamp's dense vegetation gave way to a patch of solid ground, and for the first time in hours, Elara felt like she could breathe.
Lyra perched on a fallen log, her bow across her knees as she cleaned her arrows with practiced ease. Kael sat nearby, examining a small map etched with glowing runes.
Elara watched them from a distance, her mind churning. She felt like an intruder in their presence, as though she and Oran were out of place in the company of legends.
"You should ask them something," Oran said quietly, nudging her.
"What?" she whispered back.
"Anything," Oran replied. "You've been staring at them like they're gods or something. Just talk to them."
Elara hesitated but eventually stood and approached Lyra. "I…uh, I wanted to ask—"
Lyra didn't look up. "If you're going to ask how I learned to shoot like this, the answer is years of training and a lot of mistakes."
Elara blinked, taken aback. "That's…not what I was going to ask."
Lyra glanced at her then, her sharp gaze softening slightly. "What is it, then?"
Elara hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question burning in her mind. "How do you keep going? After everything you've lost?"
Lyra's expression didn't change, but her hands stilled for a moment. She looked past Elara, her eyes unfocused, as though seeing something far away.
"You don't keep going because it's easy," Lyra said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "You keep going because stopping isn't an option. People depend on us—whether we like it or not. If we stop, they fall."
Kael spoke up from his spot by the map. "It doesn't mean the weight isn't there. You just learn to carry it. And when you can't, you let the people beside you share it."
Elara glanced back at Oran, who gave her a small nod. She swallowed hard and nodded in return.
The group pressed on, leaving the swamp behind as the landscape began to shift. The ground grew firmer, the air less oppressive. Trees with vibrant red leaves dotted the horizon, their branches twisting into intricate patterns.
"We're close to Valoria's border," Kael said. "The terrain will get harsher from here. Volcanic."
"Great," Oran muttered. "From mud to molten rock. My boots are going to hate me."
Lyra smirked faintly, the first sign of levity since they left the ruins. "Your boots aren't the only thing that's going to hate Valoria. The terrain isn't the real problem."
Oran raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what is?"
Kael answered without looking up from the map. "The people."
Elara's stomach tightened. She'd heard stories about Valoria: its brutal culture, its relentless warriors hardened by the unforgiving volcanic landscape. The people there revered strength above all else, and weakness was something they didn't tolerate—not in themselves, and certainly not in others.
"Let me guess," Oran said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "We're not exactly going to get a warm welcome?"
Lyra snorted. "Depends on your definition of 'warm.' They'll probably try to kill us."
"Wonderful," Oran muttered. "Can't wait."
As the group approached Valoria's border, the terrain became increasingly rugged. Jagged cliffs jutted out of the earth, their edges sharp and treacherous. Streams of steaming water trickled down from cracks in the rocks, and the air smelled faintly of sulfur.
"This place is alive," Elara murmured, her voice hushed.
"It's Valoria," Lyra said. "Alive, burning, and always watching."
Kael came to a sudden stop, raising a hand. The group froze, their senses immediately on high alert.
"What is it?" Lyra asked.
"Company," Kael said, his voice low. He gestured to a ridge ahead, where faint silhouettes moved against the fiery backdrop of the volcanic horizon.
Elara squinted, her heart pounding. The figures were closing in fast—too fast for them to be anything but hostile.
"They've already seen us," Lyra said, nocking an arrow. "Valorian scouts."
"Friendly?" Oran asked, though his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.
Lyra smirked grimly. "Not a chance."
The Valorian scouts descended upon them like a wave of fire and stone. Their armor gleamed with volcanic metals, and the weapons they wielded glowed faintly, infused with the raw energy of their homeland.
"Defensive formation!" Kael barked, stepping to the front. His hands glowed as he swapped positions with a falling boulder, sending it crashing into the path of the first scout.
Lyra loosed a volley of arrows, each one curving mid-flight to strike exposed joints in the scouts' armor. Her movements were impossibly precise, every arrow finding its mark as though guided by instinct.
Elara couldn't tear her eyes away from the archer. Even in the chaos of battle, Lyra was calm and composed, as if she were seeing the fight unfold several steps ahead.
"Eyes on your own fight!" Oran shouted, snapping Elara back to reality.
She turned just in time to see a scout barreling toward her, their blade raised high. Her ability flared instinctively, disrupting the prismatic energy in their weapon. The blade's glow flickered, and the scout faltered, giving Elara the opening she needed to strike with her dagger.
"Good," Lyra called out, her voice sharp but approving. "But stay alert. They'll adapt."
Elara nodded, her grip tightening on her weapon. She could feel the Valorians testing their limits, probing for weaknesses.
Oran, meanwhile, was in his element. His threads wove through the battlefield like living things, tripping up scouts and binding their arms. One scout managed to break free, only for Oran to snarl and pull them back into the dirt with a flick of his wrist.
"You're not going anywhere!" he shouted, his grin more feral than usual.
Kael moved with effortless precision, his positional swaps turning the terrain against their attackers. At one point, he switched places with a scout mid-lunge, sending them tumbling off a ledge into the steaming water below.
"Efficient," Kael murmured to himself, his expression calm as he assessed the battlefield.
Despite their skill, the Valorian scouts kept coming. For every one they defeated, two more seemed to take their place.
"We can't hold this position," Kael said, his voice carrying over the clash of weapons. "Fall back!"
Lyra loosed another arrow, her trajectory lines curving in dazzling arcs before she turned and sprinted toward the cliffs. "Move!"
Elara and Oran followed, their breaths ragged as they navigated the uneven terrain. The Valorians were relentless, their pursuit unyielding.
"This was supposed to be the easy part," Oran muttered, his threads snapping back to his fingers as they reached a narrow pass between two jagged cliffs.
"It never is," Lyra said, not breaking stride.
Kael glanced over his shoulder, his hands glowing faintly. "Hold them here. Funnel them into the pass. If we're lucky, they'll bottleneck."
"And if we're unlucky?" Oran asked, though he was already setting his threads in place.
Kael gave a faint smile. "Then they'll all come at once, and we'll have to be creative."
As the Valorians charged into the narrow pass, Lyra and Kael worked in perfect synchrony. Lyra's arrows curved through the air like streams of golden light, striking multiple scouts in rapid succession. Kael swapped positions with falling rocks and enemies alike, creating a chaotic battlefield that favored their small group.
"They're unstoppable," Elara muttered, her eyes wide as she watched them.
Oran smirked despite the situation. "They're legends for a reason, remember?"
Elara nodded, her awe tinged with determination. She couldn't match their skill—at least not yet—but she could learn from them.
The battle raged on, but slowly, the tide began to turn. The Valorians, unable to adapt to the unfamiliar tactics of Lyra and Kael, began to falter.
When the last scout fell, the group stood amidst the carnage, their breaths heavy. Lyra lowered her bow, her sharp gaze sweeping over the battlefield to ensure no enemies remained.
Kael dusted off his hands, his expression as calm as ever. "That should give them something to think about."
Elara stared at them, her heart pounding not from fear but from inspiration. These weren't just skilled fighters—they were legends who turned impossible odds into victories.
For the first time, she thought, Maybe we can survive this after all.