The air in the cavern, Conan's hideout; was heavy with the scent of damp stone and burning torches. Raven sat at the end of the war table alone, her fingers brushing the edges of the map laid out before her. The symbols seemed to dance under the flickering light, their meanings almost close yet frustratingly difficult to grasp.
Her mind replaying Conan's annoying words: "You'd better hope you do. Because if you don't, Raven; you'll wish I'd abandoned you instead."
Raven stared at the ancient map in her hands, frustration bubbling up inside her. The wornout lines and strange symbols on the map seemed to mock her as if daring her to uncover their secrets. She hated riddles with a passion, and this one felt particularly cruel. Every twist and turn of the map carried the weight of life and death, one wrong move, and everything could fall apart. Her heart pounded as she realized the stakes. This wasn't just a game or a puzzle; it was a test, and failure wasn't an option. Her instincts told her there was more to the Bloodmoon Amulet than Conan or even Cove understood. And if she couldn't figure it out, she'd be as disposable as Lycia.
The faint sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She didn't look up as a figure approached, but instinctively her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her dagger.
"You're looking at that thing like it's about to bite you," Thorne said, his voice calm but carrying a hint of curiosity that was hard to miss. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with an amused smirk. His gaze on the ancient map in her hands, as if trying to understand why it had Raven so on edge. Raven shot him a sharp look but said nothing, too caught up in the frustrating tangle of riddles before her. Thorne tilted his head, the smirk widening.
"What's the matter? Afraid it's hiding something dangerous?".
Raven sighed, glancing up at him. "What do you want, Thorne?"
Thorne smirked, leaning against a nearby stalagmite.
"I was just wondering how it feels to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Or, in this case, the map."
Raven's lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. "If you're here to make jokes, find someone else. I'm busy."
Thorne stepped closer, his eyes darting to the map. "Busy trying to figure out what Conan already decided? He's moving the team at dawn, isn't he? No matter what secrets that thing's hiding, he's betting brute force will solve it."
Raven stiffened. Thorne wasn't wrong. Conan's plan was bold and reckless, and she knew it wouldn't work. But pointing that out to him had earned her nothing but suspicion.
"Conan thinks the map is a guide," Raven said, her voice low. "He doesn't see it for what it is—a trap."
Intrigued, Thorne arched an eyebrow.
"A trap? Now you've got my attention."
Although Raven was hesitant, but she understood that she couldn't afford to keep everything to herself. Thorne was a wildcard, but he wasn't loyal to Conan. Because of that, it might make him valuable.
She pointed to a cluster of runes near the map's edge.
"These signs, they are not instructions or directions on how to get to the Amulet. They are some sort of warnings, or cautons. Whatever's guarding the amulet, it's not just some old mechanism or forgotten curse. It is living. And I think it is a test for anyone seeking the Bloodmoon's Amulet."
Thorne gave a low whistle. "Sounds dangerous. Does Conan know about this?"
Raven snorted. "He doesn't care. He only sees a chance to destroy Cove and his pack. He's not interested in the cost."
Thorne looked at her for a while, his smirk fading into a serious expression.
"And you? What's your play, Raven? Been watching you, you have always maintained your distance from Conan. You don't trust him, and if you locate that Amulet, its certain you don't plan to let him keep that amulet if you find it."
Raven eyes were hard when she met his.
"Survival is my play. If Conan wants to march into a death trap, that's his choice. But I'm not dying for his pride or his war."
With a trace of respect in his gaze, Thorne nodded slowly .
"Ok, fair enough. But survival's a lot easier with allies."
"Is that your pitch?" Raven's tone was stern when she asked.
"Team up with you and split the prize?"
Thorne laughed and said. "Not exactly. I just figure we're both smart enough to know that loyalty in this place is a luxury no one can afford. Watching each other's backs doesn't mean we have to like each other."
Raven leaned back and studied him. He was clearly dangerous, no doubt about it. But he was also right. She couldn't handle this alone, not with Conan breathing down her neck and them hiding in the shadows.
"Fine," she said at last. "But if you cross me, I'll make sure you regret it."
Thorne smiled and held up his hands, saying. "Understood. Now, tell me, what's your plan for keeping Conan from charging straight into that trap?"
Raven's jaw tightened. That was the question, Conan was too stubborn to pay attention or listen to warnings, especially from her. And if she couldn't persuade him, the entire mission could fall fail.
Her thoughts were racing as she ran a finger along the edge of the map. The Bloodmoon sigil seemed to pulse faintly, as if mocking her hesitation.
"I'll figure it out," she said quietly.
With a dubious yet amused smile, Thorne cocked his head.
"You always do, don't you? Just don't take too long. Conan is not known for his patience."
Raven was left alone with the map and her thoughts as he turned and vanished into the darkness.
"When the moon bleeds, the line of one blood shall unite, and the amulet will awaken," was the silver text weaved into the map that caught her attention.
Just 'one blood'. The words echoed in her mind repeatedly, pulling at the edges of a memory she couldn't quite understand. There was something she was missing, something critical.
She leaned forward, her fingers brushing the map as if the touch might reveal its secrets. Whatever test the Bloodmoon Amulet had in store, she needed to be ready. Because if she failed, it wouldn't just be her life on the line.