Chapter 41 - Before the journey

  Before setting off for the trial, Lilia and Ariel needed to do something first.

  They’d slept through the night in the hollow.

  However, they were too afraid to stop for long, sleep coming in scattered minutes.

  When morning came, white light slipping through the cracks above, they agreed to return to the tower. If anything was left, they could find supplies, food, cloth, maybe something to build a stretcher with.

  Lilia carried Ryn on her back as they walked. His head resting limply against her shoulder. Every step made her legs ache, but she didn’t slow down.

  Ariel followed beside her, quiet, one hand tracing along the trees for balance.

  When they finally reached the field where the tower had stood, both froze.

  The tower was gone.

  Or rather, what remained of it barely resembled what they’d left behind. The structure had caved in on itself, half-swallowed by the earth. The entrance was buried beneath a mound of fractured stone, and what little of the walls remained still steamed faintly, as though the ruin had burned from the inside out.

  Lilia’s breath held. “No…”

  She staggered forward, careful not to jostle Ryn too hard. The air here was heavy and still. Ariel trailed behind, her steps unsteady, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “...It wasn’t like this before.”

  Lilia knelt near the base of the ruin, lowering Ryn gently onto the ground. When her fingers brushed a chunk of blackened stone, it disintegrated into ash. She stared. “This isn’t just fire damage,” she murmured. “It’s melted.”

  Then she saw them, deep, uneven gouges in the surrounding stone, long trenches that cut through the dirt like claws dragging through clay.

  Her stomach turned. “Ariel…”

  Ariel looked down, and her face drained of color. The gouges weren’t just scratches. Some ran in parallel, each separated by strange ridges, as though whatever made them had too many limbs, too many joints.

  The faint smell of rot hung in the air. Iron. Burnt flesh.

  Lilia swallowed hard. “Do you think it’s… still here?”

  Ariel didn’t answer. Her eyes lingered on another mark that slashed all the way across a fallen pillar — a single, clean cut, far too precise for the beast they saw before.

  Finally, she shook her head. “No. It’s gone.”

  But the words didn’t feel true.

  Because the ruin wasn’t just destroyed.

  It had been searched.

  Searched for her

  And not just one, there seemed to be multiple of them.

  ***

  They searched the ruins for what felt like forever.

  Every step kicked up ash and dust. The tower had collapsed completely—rooms that once held beds, shelves, and light were now only piles of warped metal and cracked stone. But still, they dug through it all, hoping for something, anything, useful.

  And somehow, they found a few things.

  Scattered across the grass before them lay the small spoils of Solvara’s past:

  A half-torn waterskin was empty, but intact enough to hold something later.

  A knife, dulled but serviceable.

  A couple of wooden bowls, which seemed to be rotting.

  Ryn’s sword, bent slightly at the hilt and bloody, but still sturdy, Lilia clutched it tight before laying it beside him.

  A few pieces of cloth, too burned to wear but good enough to bind wounds.They were also accompanied by some rope and mishapen cooking utensils.

  And finally, a wooden cart, weathered but miraculously untouched. It had two wheels, likely used for hauling supplies when the tower still stood.

  Lilia stared at it for a long moment before glancing at Ariel.

  “…We can use this for Ryn.”

  Ariel nodded, wiping soot from her face. “It’ll be easier than carrying him.”

  They worked in silence, lining the inside of the cart with what cloth they could salvage, careful not to jostle Ryn too much as they settled him in. His breathing was shallow but steady.

  Ariel lingered for a moment beside the cart. Her fingers brushed the worn edge before she unclasped the golden necklace from her neck, the one she’d worn since before the fall of Solvara. and placed it gently beside him.

  When they were done, Lilia sank to her knees, exhaustion catching up to her. Sweat clung to her neck and face, mixing with the grime of ash and dried blood. The air itself smelled of smoke, rust, and rot.

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  She wrinkled her nose and muttered, “W-We smell terrible.”

  Ariel tried to give a faint laugh, but instead it came out unnatural and humourless. “We do.” Her voice barely there. “And we’re not changing that anytime soon.”

  Lilia looked at Ariel for a second, then dropped her gaze and let out a quiet sigh. A faint, weary smile tugged at her lips as she glanced down at their burned, tattered clothes, each one soaked through with sweat and dirt. There wasn’t a single fresh garment left in the ruins, only scraps barely decent enough to patch the holes.

  Their food situation wasn’t any better. The little they’d scavenged. A few stale rations, a bruised fruit or two, wouldn’t last a day or two between the three of them. And the thirst… that was already setting in. Lilia’s throat burned every time she swallowed.

  There was still water, of course, the river that curled around Solvara’s broken edge, and the lake beyond the hills, but both were far. Too far. And if night fell before they reached either…

  She stared out toward the dark line of forest that waited in the distance. The air felt heavier now, the faint orange of dusk bleeding into the horizon.

  “…We should move soon,” she murmured.

  Her voice was soft, but the weight in it said everything.

  They didn’t have time to rest.

  Luckily, they’d made it to the river before dusk.

  The walk there had been slow, each step sinking into the soft, ashen soil that blanketed what had once been Solvara’s outskirts. The air still smelled faintly of smoke, but as they went farther, the scent of wet earth began to creep in.

  It was strange, the sound of running water after everything. Almost too normal.

  When they reached the bank, the river lay before them, quiet, sluggish, its surface clouded with drifting soot. The current still moved, weakly, as if it were trying to wash the ruin of the city away. They crouched by the edge, filling their waterskins carefully, watching as pale ash swirled and dissolved in the flow.

  For a moment, Ariel looked up.

  The broken walls of Solvara loomed in the distance, the jagged spires jutting into the dim horizon like bones. The city was smaller now, almost unreal, a memory instead of a home.

  Ariel’s chest ached as she watched it fade…

  “Ariel!”

  Lilia’s voice broke through her unpleasant thoughts.

  Ariel turned.

  Lilia stood a few paces down the riverbank, water splashing around her ankles, a grin tugging at her soot-streaked face. She held something up proudly, a large fish, limp and pale, its scales dulled and eyes clouded white.

  “It’s dead,” Ariel said.

  Lilia only shrugged, half-laughing despite the weight in her voice. “Yeah, but it’s still something.”

  They returned to the cart where the knight still slept, his face pale in the dimming light.

  By then, the sky had begun to fade, the last streaks of orange sinking behind Solvara’s ruins, the fractured moon already rising in their place.

  They worked quickly. Lilia found what remained of the tower’s door and dragged it across the entrance, wedging it into place with stones. It wouldn’t stop much, but it made her feel better. The cracks in the wall were stuffed with scraps of cloth and broken planks, sealing out the wind...and the eyes.

  When they were done, they pushed the cart inside, setting it near the wall where the shadows were thickest.

  Ryn didn’t stir. His breathing came slow and uneven, but he was alive. That was enough.

  Lilia knelt near the center of the floor and began to strike flint until a small fire caught. The light flickered against the ruined stone, throwing long, shaky shadows across the tower floor.

  Ariel sat beside her, quiet, as Lilia worked the knife through the fish they’d found, the blade dull but sharp enough for the job. The smell wasn’t pleasant, but it was food.

  Once cleaned, Lilia skewered the fish on a broken metal rod and held it over the fire. Fat sizzled, the crackle breaking the silence that had followed them since the river.

  They ate in silence.

  Lilia had tried to wake Ryn, shaking him gently, whispering his name, but his body barely stirred. His breathing was shallow, his lips dry and pale. So she gave up after a while and split the last piece of fish between herself and Ariel.

  It wasn’t much. The flesh was overcooked and bitter with ash, the taste of river mud clinging no matter how long it’d burned over the fire. Still, they ate slowly, chewing as if to make it last.

  Lilia tore off another bite when something hard clicked against her teeth.

  She froze, brow furrowing, then spat it into her palm.

  A small black ring rolled into her hand, glinting faintly in the firelight. Its surface was smooth, almost polished, but dull, as if it had been burned into that color rather than crafted.

  Ariel leaned closer, frowning. “What… is that?”

  Lilia turned it over between her fingers. “I don’t know… It was inside the fish.”

  The two stared at it for a long moment, heads tilted in quiet confusion. There was something familiar about the shape, A memory half-forgotten. But no matter how hard they tried, it wouldn’t come.

  Finally, Lilia sighed, too tired. “We’ll figure it out later.”

  She tucked the ring away in the cart beside their meager supplies, Ryn’s sword, the cracked waterskin, and the golden necklace Ariel had set there earlier, before letting out a long, weary breath.

  The fire dimmed to embers.

  They settled into silence after that.

  The fire burned low, its orange light shrinking to a faint glow that flickered against the stone walls. Lilia leaned back against the cart, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. Every breath came slow, heavy, like her body was finally remembering what it meant to rest.

  Ariel sat nearby, knees drawn to her chest, her gaze lost somewhere in the dying firelight. The gold beneath her skin had dimmed to nothing now.

  She hadn’t spoken in a while, and Lilia didn’t ask her to.

  Ryn lay in the cart between them, still and pale. The crude bandages along his shoulder and chest were dark and stiff.

  Outside, the night had grown quiet again.

  No rustling of leaves. No distant cries of animals or what else. Only the whisper of wind slipping through the cracks in the stone.

  Lilia’s eyes began to droop.

  Before heading to sleep, she walked over and adjusted Ryn's bandages. His breathing was steady, a small mercy neither of them took for granted.

  She murmured, “Tomorrow… we’ll move.”

  Ariel didn’t answer.

  But when Lilia glanced at her, she thought she saw her nod, just faintly.

  Tomorrow, they’d begin their journey north.

  Toward the trial.

  Toward whatever waited for them outhere in the world.

  And under the veined, fractured moon, the three of them finally drifted into uneasy sleep.