Lorian's Perspective
The dungeon was a relentless predator, waiting for the right moment to strike. Every new floor brought new threats, and Lorian found himself clinging to the group more out of necessity than trust.
Their first major battle as a team came on the fourth floor—a cavern filled with jagged stalactites dripping acidic liquid. The ground was uneven, littered with glowing green pools that sizzled on contact. The air burned Lorian's lungs with every breath, and the dungeon's malice felt almost tangible.
A sudden roar shattered the tense silence, and from the shadows emerged a towering beast. Its body was a grotesque mix of stone and sinew, its jagged claws scraping against the ground as it charged. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, locking onto the group with murderous intent.
"Positions!" Darian barked, unsheathing his sword.
The group sprang into action, moving with practiced precision that made Lorian feel clumsy and out of place. Darian took the lead, his sword flashing as he intercepted the beast's charge, meeting its claws with a deafening clash. Seris circled right, daggers gleaming with poison, aiming for the beast's unprotected joints.
"Keep moving! Don't let it corner you!" Darian shouted, narrowly avoiding a swipe from the creature's claws.
Lorian froze, his breath catching in his throat as he watched the others fight. Joren, a whirlwind of motion, wielded his spear with deadly precision, keeping the beast off balance. The creature roared, swinging its massive tail and smashing a stalagmite into shards.
"Lorian!" Joren yelled, snapping him out of his daze. "Do something!"
Do something. But what? Lorian's powers were weak, unreliable. He still had to try. Focusing on a large chunk of broken stone near the beast, he reached out with his mind. His hands trembled, but he willed the stone to lift.
The stone wobbled unsteadily before he hurled it at the beast. It missed, smashing harmlessly into the ground beside it. The beast turned its glowing eyes on him and let out a deafening roar.
Panic surged through Lorian as the creature charged. His legs felt like lead, and he couldn't move, couldn't think—
"Get down!" Darian's voice sliced through the fear, and Lorian dropped just as the beast's claws swiped where his head had been moments before.
Joren lunged in, his spear piercing the creature's exposed flank. It howled in pain, its attention shifting back to the others. Lorian scrambled to his feet, heart pounding as he forced himself to focus.
The battle seemed endless. Each second dragged on as the group wore the beast down bit by bit. Lorian managed to use his telekinesis to slow one of the creature's strikes, giving Seris an opening to drive her poisoned dagger into its neck. Finally, with a final roar, the creature collapsed, its body crumbling into a pile of dark stone and ash.
Breathing heavily, the group exchanged grim looks. Darian sheathed his sword, his expression unreadable.
"You need to do better," he said, his voice low but firm. "Next time, we might not be able to save you."
Lorian swallowed hard, the weight of his failure settling on his shoulders.
The next few days brought more battles, each one testing their endurance and teamwork. On the fifth floor, they faced a swarm of smaller, insect-like creatures that moved as a single writhing mass. Their chitinous bodies glinted in the dim light, their mandibles clicking in unison.
The fight was chaos. The swarm overwhelmed them, forcing the group into a tight circle as they fought to hold the creatures at bay. Lorian tried to help, using his telekinesis to hurl rocks and debris at the swarm, but it felt like drops in an ocean.
One of the creatures broke through their defenses, its sharp legs slashing toward Lorian. He stumbled back, barely managing to raise a telekinetic shield. The creature slammed into it, its weight nearly shattering his concentration.
"Hold on!" Joren shouted, his spear flashing as he impaled the creature.
Lorian's arms trembled as he maintained the shield, sweat dripping down his face. His energy waned, his vision blurred. Just when he thought he couldn't hold on any longer, Darian's sword came down, cleaving through the last of the swarm.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Not bad," Joren said, clapping Lorian on the shoulder. "You're getting there."
Lorian didn't feel like he was getting anywhere. His body ached, his mind was on the brink of breaking, and the dungeon seemed to grow more hostile with each step. But there was no choice but to keep moving forward.
Selene's Perspective
While Lorian struggled in the depths of the dungeon, Selene faced her own battles. The wilderness was harsh and unforgiving, the nights cold and filled with the distant howls of predators.
Her group had been attacked twice in as many days, forcing Selene to take charge. The survivors were inexperienced fighters, relying on her for protection and guidance. She had to be strong for them, even when her thoughts were consumed by Lorian.
The Traveler was an enigma. His cryptic words left more questions than answers, but he had proven his worth in battle. His magic was powerful and precise. Together, they had managed to fend off a pack of shadow wolves, their glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth a constant threat in the darkness.
"You fight like someone with something to lose," The Traveler had said after the battle, his eyes studying her intently.
"I do," Selene had replied, her voice steady.
She refused to lose hope. She refused to give up. Lorian was alive—he had to be. And she would do whatever it took to find him.