The Longest Journey, Part IV: The Road to Ahr'tul

Rohan followed Kargass in silence, trying to focus on his breathing. He hoped that by doing so, he might find some semblance of calm, but it was futile. His mind was elsewhere, still trapped- perhaps forever- in the visions the Spine had gifted him. Now that they had put some distance between themselves and the danger, he began to recall the unseen tendrils of that cursed place worm their way into his mind, scouring his soul for the thought that would cut him deepest.

And they had found it.

The image was seared into his memory, impossibly vivid. Aric, his son, just as he had been the last time Rohan saw him alive. That kind smile. Those bright, impatient eyes, so full of life, so much like Leana's.

The thorn of guilt burrowed deeper into his soul. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear the screams of his crew, smell their blood, feel the deck of the Phantom Tide collapsing beneath his feet, and the sea rushing in to claim the memories of its dead.

“We are almost there.”

Kargass’ voice pulled him abruptly from his thoughts. The red-haired dwarf had stopped a few paces ahead and was watching him intently. His tone was calm, but Rohan wasn’t in the mood either for reassurance or pitty.

“Do me a favor and shut the fuck up,” he snapped quickening his pace. As he passed Kargass, he shoved him- rougher than intended, considering the dwarf had already saved his life twice. Kargass, on the other hand, did nothing but smile as he fell in step behind him.

The ascent grew steeper, the path narrowing as the Spine revealed its crueler face. The ground twisted ahead of them in jagged spirals, as if carved by some ancient hand that reveled in torment. The faint, sickly light, weak as the last flicker in the eyes of a dying man, enveloped them. It emanated from the strange crystals that were embedded in every corner of the Deeps. Yet here, they seemed to have multiplied their numbers considerably. They jutted out like foreign growths, spreading like a disease devouring the rock from within.

The only sound was from their boots scuffing against the ground and their increasingly ragged breaths. The air thinned with every step, the chill biting deeper, until it felt less like a natural cold and more like an unholy, mystical presence, creeping into the marrow of their bones.

And then, the mist came.

At first, it was subtle, no more than a faint veil curling at their feet. But soon it thickened, rising like a milky tide, swallowing the edges of the path and the crystals’ ghastly light. It moved like a living thing, coiling and unfurling, pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. It seemed to slither through invisible cracks in the walls. The rocks of the Spine lost their form, and in the end, the gray haze of the mist swallowed their entire world.

And just as he began to wonder if he had already stepped off the edge of the cliff and died, a dim light appeared in the distance. Faint at first- a fragile, lone star trembling in an otherwise pitch-black sky- but with every step, it grew brighter.

“What is this?” Rohan asked, his voice swallowed by its own echo.

Kargass’s reply came from somewhere nearby, though the thick haze made it impossible to tell exactly where. “A doorway,” he said, his voice unusually somber. “One that leads back to the real world.”

The light grew stronger, brighter, until it consumed everything. It wasn’t just in front of them; it was above, below, around. It bent the space around it, making Rohan feel like he was walking through a dream- or a nightmare.

“It’s… it’s growing,” he muttered unable to think straight.

Suddenly, Kargass was right beside his ear- so close that the eerie light managed to catch the edges of his features, enough for Rohan to see him.

“Enough thinking, lad. Step forward!”

Before Rohan could say or do anything, the dwarf’s heavy hand clamped firmly onto his shoulder.

Moments later, he shoved him into the light.

Oneiria Gate by Imagica via MJ

Oneiria by Imagica via MJ

The world around him shattered as a sudden, violent pull yanked him into the void. The ground disappeared, his breath stolen by an unbearable light that consumed everything. Up bacame down and down lost all meaning as Rohan felt himself falling- no, rising- drawn upward in a directionless plunge.

It was as if the universe had paused, holding its breath, and in that fleeting, timeless moment, Rohan was unmade. His body was nowhere, and yet his mind expanded, unbound and infinite, stretching into the vastness of a space where nothing and everything existed as one.

A sharp, unnatural smell of fire filled his senses, not of burning, but a primal force- the fire that clung to the edges of dreams, where hope and despair battled for supremacy. It was the scent of something longed for but never reached, familiar yet alien.

The surroundings were equally overwhelming- a breathtaking tapestry of beauty intertwined with an otherworldly dread. Distant crystalline islands drifted through an infinite starry void, their surfaces alive with kaleidoscopic reflections. Roads of liquid silver and gold coursed across the expanse, their radiant hues weaving pulsating patterns that seemed to lead both nowhere and everywhere. The colors seeped into their minds, saturating their thoughts with fragments of emotions, dissolving the boundaries between themselves and the surreal, dreamlike realm that enveloped them.

As reality rippled and bent, fragments of their lives pulled into the air. Rohan's memories bled into Kargass’, and Kargass’ into his. Kargass saw the chains of Rohan’s childhood, his time in the Horned Arena, the murder of a hooded woman, the weight of survival etched into every scar. Meanwhile, Rohan glimpsed moments of the dwarf's life: a blond half-elf woman, smiling softly with her hands resting on a growing belly; the echo of a promise made in shadows. The memories intertwined, not merely showing but forcing each man to feel the other’s pain, joy, and loss.

It was disorienting, the boundaries of identity crumbling under the weight of this forced intimacy. Time had no meaning here; moments stretched into eternity, while entire lifetimes were compressed into the span of a single breath. And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it ceased.

The portal expelled them with violent force, like casting away a foreign object from its bowels. The vibrant colors and endless roads vanished, and Rohan slammed into the scorching, red stone of reality.

The red soil beneath him was hot, almost unnaturally so, and grained enough to scrape against his palms. He rolled onto his back, his legs trembling violently as a wave of dizziness overcame him. The spinning in his head was relentless, and his stomach churned. He rolled to the side and vomited, expelling the remnants of nausea born from the portal’s chaotic pull.

The air around them was suffocating, thick with heat that radiated off the barren landscape in shimmering waves. His entire body felt wrong, like he’d been unraveled and poorly stitched back together. Beside him, Kargass was already on his feet, brushing himself off with a calm composure that made Rohan want to throw up again.

“Blasted portals!” Kargass exclaimed. “Well, if that doesn’t make you feel alive, I don’t know what does.”

Rohan groaned, struggling to sit up. “By the gods…”

“If you can’t handle a little tilt-a-whirl, maybe you should consider a change of profession, Captain,” Kargass mocked him as he stretched his arms like they’d just taken a pleasant stroll.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt less like a captain in my life,” Rohan muttered as he pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. “That was… What the hell was that?”

Kargass smirked, though there was an edge of seriousness in his eyes. “Just a short trip through the old dreamways of Oneiria. We’re lucky we didn’t fall into a nightmare, lad. We’d have a lot more to worry about than a mild bout of nausea.”

“Oneiria?” Rohan repeated, his voice heavy with disbelief. “We were on the dreamscape?”

“Aye,” Kargass said, his smile fading into something almost reverent. “The realm of dreams. It’s not just a place- it’s the cosmic tapestry that binds all the worlds together. But its threads… they fray over time. Portals like the one we used? Old, unstable things. You take the risk when you pass through one.”

“What kind of risk?” Rohan asked, his tone sharp.

“Memories,” Kargass confirmed his suspicions. “A portal doesn’t just take you from one place to another- it touches the essence of you. Sometimes, unstable portals can let things slip through. Bits and pieces of who you are. Thoughts, memories… They get tangled up, bleeding across. It’s not common, but it’s a risk with these old dreamways.”

Rohan hesitated, the memories from the portal still vivid and raw in his mind.

“Who was she?”

Kargass frowned, his easy-going demeanor slipping, as something unreadable and heavy crossed his face. “Lauriel,” he said quietly. “She was… She is a friend of mine. And she’s waiting for us in Ahr' tul. That’s where we should go.”

“Ahr' tul,” Rohan echoed, his voice steadier now as the reality of their situation began to settle in. He looked around at the barren, sun-scorched expanse that encyrcled them. “So we are in Pariant.”

“Aye,” Kargass said, his voice firm again. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Best not waste time. Pariant is not known for its hospitality.”

Rohan nodded, brushing the dust off his clothes. The heat was relentless and the horizon offered little solace beyond the promise of more desolation.

The land stretched out endlessly before them- an unforgiving wasteland of cracked red earth. Massive sand spires and brittle rock formations jutted out like the bones of long-dead giants. The dry, burning wind howled in torment, swirling the sand in chaotic patterns that clawed at their skin. Rohan pulled up his shirt to shield his eyes and mouth, but not before the gritty taste of ash, salt, and desperation clung to his tongue.

According to myth, blended with fragments of history, this was once a place where civilization thrived. Here lay the fabled domain of the Shadow Elves- a coalition of many different cultures flourishing beneath a common banner.

Their cities were legendary, their towers and wonders rising high above sprawling jungles teeming with life. Now, all that remained was ruins. Stone skeletons of ancient buildings littered the horizon, their broken structures half-buried in the encroaching sands.

Rohan couldn’t help but wonder how a land so full of life had become this barren graveyard. He had heard countless stories for the Land of the Ancients, but the reality was something else entirely. There was no life here, only dust. The only part of the wastelands Rohan had ever seen was Ahr' tul, a city he remembered only for its crowded, crumbling coastal bazaar- a labyrinth of noise, barter cries, and the stench of desperation and decay. What remained of the greatest of the ancient city-states clung stubbornly to life, a shadow of its former self, much like the rest of Pariant- a land struggling to endure under the weight of its own ruin.

Looking around at the endless expanse of dust and rock, Rohan was certain the sea was far away. The memory of Ahr' tul's salty breeze felt like it belonged to another lifetime.

"How are we supposed to find Ahr' tul? Don’t tell me you have a map of this place."

"Even if I had one, it’d be as useless as the sand in our boots," Kargass replied with a chuckle. "This is a land of wanderers now. The Tir'naru- the nomadic tribes of Pariant- are the only ones who know its secrets. Without them, we’re just more bones for the desert to claim."

Rohan’s frown deepened. "And you think they’ll just help us out of the kindness of their hearts?"

Kargass flashed a grin to his side, his pace unfaltering. "Lucky for you and me, I’m lovable enough to have friends even in this forsaken place. Sur’mylan owes me a favor- though he’ll probably claim it’s the other way around. He’s an asshole, sure, but the best scout the Kavran'ta tribe has.”

“The Kavran'ta?” Rohan echoed the dwarf's words with piqued interest. “What’s that mean?”

“The Travelers of the Boundless,” Kargass said, his voice laced with quiet admiration. “Or at least that's the closest translation I know. They roam far and wide in search of tales and old treasures. If there’s anyone who knows how to navigate the chaos of these lands, it’s a Kavran'ta.”

"Treasure hunters? I like them.

"Ha! Don't let Sur'mylan hear you calling them that! Kargass laughed.

"Fair enough." Rohan muttered. “So, where do we find this Sur’mylan?”

Kargass pointed to a distant cluster of ruins, barely visible against the horizon, the remnants of what might once have been a sprawling settlement or temple. “We’ll meet him there. If he’s not already waiting, he’s likely scouting the area. The Kavran'ta know these lands like no one else. Don't worry, captain. He'll find us.”

The ruins loomed ominously around them. A ghostly silence hung in the air, broken only by the faint whistle of the wind as it passed through broken archways and shattered stones. Kargass was leaning against the remains of a crumbling wall with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the horizon, eagerly waiting for Sur'mylan's figure to appear. Rohan on the other hand, paced a short distance away, his boots kicking up small clouds of dust with each restless step.

“Why are we going to Ahr' tul?” he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness. Kargass didn’t respond. Rohan stopped pacing and looked at the dwarf. His indifference made his frustration boil over.

“Why did you risk getting me out of there? You said I’m a Rune Master. Don’t you think it’s time to tell me what that means?”

Still, Kargass remained silent.

“And you,” Rohan pressed, his voice rising, “you’re the Lord of Greed? What does that even mean? You’ve been dragging me through hell, and I’m tired of being kept in the dark. I deserve answers.”

Kargass finally stirred, pushing himself off the wall. But nstead of an answer, he unhooked a flask from his belt. He then pulled out two small cracked glasses from a pouch at his side. Rohan watched in confusion as the dwarf knelt and poured a shot of deep crimson wine into each glass.

“What are you doing?” Rohan asked, his irritation mingling with curiosity.

Kargass and Rohan by Imagica via MJ

Kargass raised both glasses to the height of his eyes, muttering words under his breath that seemed to ripple with chaotic energy. He grinned as he finished, a glint of mischief in his eye. Then he lowered the glasses and extended one to Rohan.

“A toast,” Kargass said, his voice light but with an undertone of significance.

“A toast?” Rohan said uterly perplexed. “Are you insane?”

“Perhaps,” Kargass replied, his grin widening. “Or perhaps the rest of the world is. Here is to luck, the force that brought you and me together in this fine mess.”

“Luck? Sounds more like disaster.”

“Levar doesn’t promise things will go smoothly,” Kargass said, laughing as he raised his glass. “But he does guarantee they’ll never be boring.”

Rohan hesitated before taking the glass, his fingers brushing against the glass rim.

“Drink,” Kargass urged. “It’s not poison. Probably.”

With a reluctant sigh, Rohan brought the glass to his lips and drank. The wine was sharp and wild, its flavor somehow shifting with each sip- bitter one moment, sweet the next. It burned just slightly as it went down, leaving behind a strange sense of exhilaration and renewed vitality. In a moment he felt the exhaustion of their journey lifted.

Kargass lowered his empty glass and set it aside before finally speaking. “You’re right. You do deserve answers and that's why we’re going to Ahr' tul. Lauriel has something we need- a shard of an enchanted mirror. It’s not just any mirror. It’s a creation of Daria, the Lady of Lust, and it’s our only way to reach her stronghold.”

“Her stronghold?”

“A demi-plane to be exact,” Kargass clarified, sitting down on a nearby stone. “A place where those like me- and, yes, like you- can gather safely. There, you’ll get the answers you’re looking for. Answers about who you are, what it means to be a Rune Master, and why you’re bound to me, whether you like it or not.”

Rohan blinked, trying to process the flood of information. “Bound to you? What does that even mean?”

“One question at a time, captain. Let’s start with the basics: I’m a Lord of Sin. Each Lord is tied to the core of a rune power, an ancient force that shapes us in ways I can't even begin to explain. Mine is Greed. But it’s not just about wanting gold or treasure. Greed is deeper than that. It’s desire, ambition, the hunger for more. It’s what drives people to build, to conquer, to destroy.”

“And me?” Rohan asked, his voice quieter now.

“You,” Kargass said, pointing at him, “are a Rune Master. You’re someone who can wield the power of a rune- my rune. Without you, my power fades, and without me, you’ll never unlock the secrets of what you’re capable of. That’s why I got you out of that prison. Because we need each other. Whether either of us likes it or not.”

Rohan was silent for a long moment, his thoughts churning. Finally, he met Kargass’ gaze. “And what if I don’t want to be part of this? What if I just walk away?”

Kargass’ smile faded, replaced by something that resembled sorrow- or was it resignation? His eyes held a depth of understanding that made Rohan feel small.

“I wish I could tell you that’s a choice,” Kargass said, his tone softer now, tinged with something almost regretful. “But it’s not. Not if you want to survive.”

Rohan flinched at the implication, but Kargass held his gaze. “The rune chose you, Rohan. It has already set its mark on you, and it’s not going anywhere. You can try to walk away, but the rune will follow. It will control you, shape you, twist you. You felt it already, haven’t you?” Kargass’ voice dropped low, like a whisper meant for Rohan alone. “I saw it in your memories, back at Oneiria. You knew it was wrong to attack that ship, but you did it anyway. Why? I'm sure you are many things, but you don't strike me as reckless. The truth is, the rune made you do it, Rohan. And it left you broken.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, his expression hardening, as he continued. “Are you sure you want to risk losing yourself to it again? Are you prepared to be consumed by it, just because you don’t want to face what’s coming?”

Rohan stood still for a long moment, the weight of Kargass’ words sinking in. His heart raced. He wanted to push back, to argue, to tell the dwarf that he was in control, that he could decide his fate. But something in Kargass’ voice, in the truth of his words, left him with no argument.

The reality of what Kargass had said settled like a stone in his chest as the memory of Aric resurfaced. He had believed it was his fault- his greed, his hunger for power. He had made the choice, had thrown them all into danger. It was his fault his son had died.

But now… now it didn’t seem so simple anymore.

Could it really be true? Could the rune have been the one pulling the strings, forcing his hand? If that was the case, if the power inside him was truly what had made him do it, then maybe- just maybe...

A strange sensation filled him, a feeling that was both terrifying and relieving. It was as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. The guilt that had gnawed at him for so long, the unbearable weight of knowing he had been the cause of his son’s death… it was still there, but somehow… not entirely.

It was as though the rune had finally offered him an explanation. A dark, painful truth, but an explanation nonetheless. Yet the fear didn’t leave him. A new kind of terror grabbed his heart. Because if he wasn’t in control then, if the rune had the power to shape his actions…

...how long before it controlled him completely?

Before he could form a response, the sound of hooves- or something like hooves- cut through the silence. A strange figure appeared on the horizon, riding a creature that was equal parts reptile and horse. The beast had the body of a large, muscular lizard, its scales shimmering in hues of bronze that glinted with dark hair sprouting from its back. Its head was long and narrow, with piercing, aggressive yellow eyes.

Kargass’ eyes narrowed as the beast came into focus. “A Tuarok,” he muttered, his tone thick with recognition. “Stubborn beasts... most importantly, our guide is here,”

The rider was even more peculiar than the beast that carried him. He was short and lean, with sun-kissed skin and tribal tattoos that criped up to his neck. He wore a wide-brimmed hat that was to large for his head and a cloak with worn off edged. He had a larger than life posture and a cocky expression which fit perfectly his fox like features. Despite his eccentric appearance, there was a certain ease to the way he sat astride the creature, an air of confidence that suggested he’d spent most of his life riding beasts like it.

Sur'mylan and Invesa

“Ah, Kargass, my favorite dwarf!” he shouted, dismounting with the fluid grace of someone who had perfected the art of dramatic entrances. "I'm not late, am I?"

"You are always late,"Kargass said rolling his eyes. Yet, he couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at his lips as he continued, "And you still owe me a ton of gold from our last game."

Sur’mylan waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away an annoying fly. “Ah, debts. You and your shiny rocks! Friendship, my dear Kargass, is worth far more than gold. Besides, you’d miss me too much to hold a grudge.”

Rohan watched stunned the peculiar discusion. He blinked, his mind trying to wrap around what he was witnessing. “This… is Sur’mylan?”

“The very same." Kargass replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "He looks ridiculous, I know. But don’t let that fool you. No one knows this land better than he does."

Sur’mylan swept off his hat with a theatrical bow. “Flattery, Kargass? You’re spoiling me! But introductions can wait- Ahr’tul beckons!”

Rohan glanced at the Tuarok, its bronze scales glinting in the light, and then back at the man who rode it so confidently. “And this guy can be trusted?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Kargass said with no hesitation. “Well... mostly.”

Sur’mylan grinned, his fox-like face practically glowing. “Trust is for fools! But I promise one thing: I never get lost.”

The Tuarok snorted, tossing its head, and Sur’mylan turned his attention back to it. “Oh, that reminds me! I only brought Invesa. Didn’t realize Kargass would bring company.”

Rohan blinked. “Wait. What?”

“Invesa, my Tuarok. I only brought her. Eh, no matter... we’ll manage,” Sur’mylan said breezily, already swinging himself back onto the creature’s back with ease.

Kargass groaned, rubbing his temple as if dealing with a particularly stubborn child. “Of course you only brought one.”

Sur’mylan spread his hands, a mock-innocent expression on his face. “I’m a guide, not a caravan! Now, let’s get moving before the desert decides to eat us for supper.”

They reached Ahr' tul under the cloak of night. A shy crescent moon shedded its faint light over the ruined city casting eerie shadows everywhere. Despite the destruction, the city pulsed with life- a paradox that struck Rohan immediately. Red clay buildings rose from the insides of ancient ruins, their cracked walls and worn rooftops standing like rotten teeth against the skyline.

“Next time,” Rohan muttered, “I’ll take the sandworms over those rockspikes. My knees are killing me.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t last two minutes against a sandworm,” Sur’mylan laughed at him. “Don’t get me wrong, captain, but you’re not built for the desert.”

“No kidding…”

“We’re here.” Kargass’ voice cut through the banter, rusted with a mix of anticipation and unease. Rohan glanced at him, puzzled by the shift in his tone, but Kargass offered no explanation. Sur’mylan, meanwhile, spread his arms wide and inhaled deeply.

“Ahr' tul,” he declared with delight. “The city of thieves and kings. Ah, nothing like the smell of desperation and opportunity. It hasn’t changed a bit.”

Kargass snorted. “This city is like a roach- you can crush it, burn it, drown it, but it always crawls back. Come on. Let’s move.”

Sur’mylan dismounted his Tuarok, patting the beast’s neck affectionately before leading it on foot. “I could use a warm drink and a warmer bed. Do they still serve that spiced cactus ale at the Jackal?”

“They serve poison and call it ale,” Kargass replied after a pause. “but yes, the Dancing Jackal still stands. That’s where we’ll find Lauriel.”

Sur’mylan raised an eyebrow. “She’s talking to you now? Things must be serious.”

Kargass shot him a sharp look. “Don’t start.”

“Didn’t say a thing. Lead the way, mighty dwarf.”

As they descended into the maze of Ahr' tul's streets, the city swallowed them in shadows and noise. Grand bazaars bustled with merchants peddling their wares, their voices weaving a chaotic symphony, even at night. The sharp scents of exotic spices, dried fish, and burning oils filled the air, mingling with the salt of the Syralis sea. Nomads moved through the streets with practiced ease, their camels laden with silks and goods. On the horizon, the sea stretched like an endless sheet of ink, the faint silhouette of Keraian- the land of men- looming across the waves.

Ahr'tul at night by Imagica via MJ

The Dancing Jackal was tucked into one of the quieter alleys of Ahr' tul, its clay-red exterior almost lost amid the crammed buildings that surrounded it. A weathered wooden sign creaked above the entrance, its faint outline of a leaping jackal barely visible against the darkening sky.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the scent of stale liquor, burnt wood, and unwashed bodies clung to the air. Scattered among the mismatched chairs, merchants, mercenaries, and wanderers murmured among themselves. A wiry man behind the bar lazily polished a glass, his eyes flicking up at the newcomers, taking their measure with a practiced glance.

Kargass scanned the room, his eyes narrowing as they landed on a lone figure seated at a corner table, her back straight, her presence almost like a stone wall in the chaos. He muttered lowly, his voice thick with recognition. “There she is.”

She sat with her arms crossed, her stance unyielding, an aura of strength and command radiating from her. She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense, but there was something striking about her- something formidable. Her blond hair was braided back tightly, her sharp green eyes scanning the room with an eagle’s precision. Clad in heavy, well-maintained armor that had clearly seen many battles, a sword rested at her side, its hilt worn smooth from use.

“Lauriel,” Kargass greeted, his voice tight, a stark contrast to the warmth he usually exuded.

Her gaze flicked over him, cool but not unkind, and she gave him a thin smile. “Took you long enough.”

Kargass didn’t sit, instead pulling out a chair and standing beside it. His usual easygoing manner seemed distant, replaced by something hard beneath the surface. “We had… delays.”

Lauriel’s eyes shifted to Rohan, sizing him up with a glance that lingered just a moment too long. “You brought company,” she remarked, her voice flat but cutting. “Who’s the pup?”

Kargass hesitated for a split second, caught off guard. “I wasn't suppose to come alone. I told you that.” His tone softened slightly. “This is Captain Rohan.”

She raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “A captain, huh? Guess we’re moving up in the world.”

Before Kargass could respond, Lauriel’s gaze shifted again, this time landing on Sur’mylan and his usual unfiltered energy. “And what are you doing here, Sur’mylan?”

He grinned back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Good to see you too, my dear,” he said, his voice playful. “I need a drink! I can be discreet, you know. Go ahead, talk your secrets. I wonder how long before you two start flirting again…” His smile widen as he glanced between Kargass and Lauriel.

Kargass shot him a sharp look, though there was no real malice behind it. “Shut it, you moron,” he muttered, his eyes following Sur’mylan as he made his way to the bar.

Then, turning back to Lauriel, he spoke again. “So,” he said, letting the word hang in the air. “Where is it?”

Lauriel’s expression didn’t change, though something flickered behind her eyes. Her smile, sharp and knowing, remained. “You’re so eager to get rid of me?” she teased, but there was something colder beneath the surface of her words. “Fine. I don’t have the mirror.”

“Where is it, Lauriel?”

“I don’t have it on me,” she answered quickly, her voice surprisingly calm. “And no, I didn’t lose it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not that stupid.” Her eyes met his. “It’s hidden. Safe.”

Kargass’s gaze narrowed even further, his thoughts racing. “Where?”

Lauriel’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it was hard, almost like a blade waiting to be drawn. “It stays hidden until I’m ready. I’ve arranged rooms for you. You look like you could use some rest, and I’m guessing our friend here,” she nodded toward Rohan, “hasn’t had the chance to unwind either.” Her smile widened, as she turned her gaze to Sur'mylan. “I hope you don’t mind staying with that clown, Captain.”

Rohan shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. Kargass, however, was silent, a tense air hanging between him and Lauriel. Finally, after a long pause, Kargass spoke, his voice low and resolute. “Fine. We’ll rest. But we leave at first light. Will you have the mirror by then?”

“Sure,” she replied softly.

As Lauriel stood and moved to leave the table, heading for the stairs, Kargass stayed seated for a long moment, his mind churning with the weight of their exchange. His hand clenched around the edge of his chair, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something more guarded.

Rohan leaned over to Sur'mylan, and he whispered. “You ever seen him like this before? He’s usually not one to hesitate.”

The nomad shook his head, his eyes following Kargass as he climbed the stairs. “No. This isn’t like him. Something’s off.” Sur’mylan’s smirk widened as Kargass' figure vanished upstairs. “Whatever it is, it’s not going to be pretty. Kargass and Lauriel? There’s too much history there, trust me.”

Lauriel by Imagica via MJ

Rohan awoke with a jolt as the cold press of a blade at his neck cut through his foggy senses. His body tensed, instincts snapping to alertness as his eyes, still heavy with sleep, darted around the dim room. The metallic taste of danger filled the air. Sur'mylan's body lay lifeless beside him, crimson blood pooling around the slit of his throat.

A chill crawled down his spine. He turned his head slightly, meeting the sharp, manic gaze of Lauriel standing above him, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She held a gleaming knife, its edge pressed firmly into his skin.

“Sorry, kid,” she whispered, her voice tight, laced with something that bordered on madness. “It’s nothing personal, but trust me. I’m doing you a favor.”

Rohan's hand shot toward his sword, but as he reached for it, the weapon slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor with a sharp, metallic ring. His heart raced. The blade grazed his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. His muscles screamed to react when the door crashed open with a force that splintered the air. Lauriel’s focus faltered, just long enough for Rohan to kick her away. She stumbled backward, her eyes wide with surprise.

Her skin rippled, as though molten wax was flowing over her face. Her features contorted and twisted, bending and shifting unnaturally. A mask- a metallic, vantablack mask- slid away and fell to the floor, revealing a face too smooth, too perfect to be real. The transformation was violent, grotesque, the air thick with magic as her body shrank, limbs twisting into the form of a wiry male halfling with a crooked, mischievous smile.

Elaija, Lord of Envy

Kargass’ voice rang out from the doorway, raw with panic.

“ELAIJA! Where is she?”

Elaija- who ever that was- wiped the blood from his lips with a gloved hand. His grin never wavered, growing wider, colder as he turned to Rohan. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s wrong to hit a woman?” His eyes then flashed to Kargass, a knowing amusement in them. “Kargass, my old friend… I missed your fiery spirit.”

The halfling rose with fluid grace, every inch of his posture radiating supreme confidence. As he casually straightened, his eyes flicked between Rohan and Kargass with the ease of a predator eyeing its prey. The air around him seemed to thicken with authority, as though the very room bent to his will.

He tossed Lauriel’s staff aside as if it were nothing, and looked down at Rohan. “So, you’re the new rune master? Not much of a fighter, I see. Lucky for you, I’m not interested in you.”

His gaze turned to Kargass again, his expression softening into something that almost resembled nostalgia. “But you… Kargass. Always the hero. Always the protector. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Kargass, though visibly shaken, clenched his fists. “What do you want, Elaija?”

The halfling's laughter was dark and rich, a sound that seemed to consume the room. “Don’t play fool with me, Kargass. You know what I want. The mirror- the one Lauriel was supposed to have.” He paused, his smile fading just slightly. “I didn’t expect her to hide it so well, but you’ll find it. After all, you know her better than anyone.”

He leaned in closer, his voice cold as ice. “You’ve got two days. Find the mirror, or Lauriel dies. And don’t think for a second that I’m bluffing. You know how much I value leverage, Kargass. You know how far I’ll go to get what I need.”

The reality of the situation settled over Kargass like a shroud. His gaze flicked to Sur'mylan’s body, then to the staff on the floor. His jaw clenched, and his heart beat in slow, heavy pulses as doubt and anger churned within him. This threat... it would take everything he had to face this dilemma.

Elaija glanced back over his shoulder with a mocking smile. “You’ve always been a man of action. So, make it quick, Kargass. I’m getting bored.”

Before either Kargass or Rohan could respond, Elaija stepped forward, vanishing in an instant, leaving behind only the echo of his laughter. The air seemed to crackle with the magic he left in his wake, the weight of his threat hanging heavy in the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Kargass’ hands tightened around Lauriel’s staff, the knuckles white with tension. His mind raced, every thought frantic, each second slipping away like sand through his fingers. The clock was ticking. Lauriel’s life was on the line, and Elaija’s words echoed in his ears like a death knell.

“What now?” Rohan whispered, barely audible.

Kargass didn’t respond. His chest tightened, breath shallow, as the full force of the situation set in. His gaze flicked to Rohan, then back to the lifeless body of Sur'mylan. The burden was unbearable.

And for the first time in a long time, Kargass felt the ice-cold fingers of doubt grip him.

He didn't know what to do.

And that uncertainty tasted like ash.