"Stand back," I command, coiling my powerful body as my Talons retreat. My fury crystallizes into cold purpose, my flameresponding instantly, gathering in my palm in a swirling vortex of crimson and gold. This deception ends now.
With a roar that shakes dust from the ceiling, I release the concentrated blast of elemental fire. It surges forward, a spear of pure, molten intent that strikes the center of the illusion. For a heartbeat, nothing happens, then the false collapse shimmers, edges blurring as if seen through water. Cracks of golden light spread through the fabricated debris, splitting the illusion along invisible seams.
The glamour shatters with a sound like breaking glass, fragments dissolving into motes of light that swirl briefly before vanishing entirely. Where the collapsed tunnel stood moments before, a clean, intact passage now stretches into darkness, its floor marked with fresh tracks of slithering scales.
"By the Ancestors," Dreth whispers, eyes wide with shock.
I stare at the revealed path. Someone went to extraordinary lengths to hide this passage, to make it appear destroyed when it has clearly been in use.
"Kessith," I snap without turning, “contact the other search parties. Tell them to examine any collapsed tunnels they encounter to test them physically. This glamour may not be the only one."
I surge through the revealed passage first, my coils propelling me forward with desperate speed. The pull of our bond no longer whispers but screams, each pulse of the connection drawing me deeper into these forgotten tunnels with the force of gravity itself. My flame illuminates every corner, casting long shadows of my Talons as they hurry behind me, weapons drawn as an alert for any threat that might emerge from the darkness.
The passage narrows abruptly, ceiling dropping so low I must hunch my torso to avoid scraping scales against jagged rock. Sharp protrusions threaten to snag on flesh and armor alike. Mywarriors adapt instantly, bodies lowering, weapons held close to avoid entanglement. These tunnels were not made for comfort or ease of passage. They were carved for secrecy, for evasion, for those who wished to move unseen beneath the mountain's watchful gaze.
A sharp bend forces us into single file, the walls pressing in from both sides. My shoulder scrapes against rough stone, drawing blood that hisses against my heated scales. I barely notice the pain. The flame inside me burns higher, brighter with each coil length gained. Leira is closer now; the thread between us tightening like a physical cord pulling me forward.
"Sovereign," Dreth calls from behind, voice tight with concern. "These tunnels branch ahead. Which?—"
"Left," I interrupt before he finishes. I do not need to see the fork to know our path. The bond speaks with such clarity now I could navigate blindfolded, guided only by the insistent tug in my chest where Leira's presence burns like a beacon.
The passage widens suddenly, opening into a natural cavern where the mountain's bones have been hollowed by ancient waters. The ceiling arches high overhead, stalactites hanging like stone fangs, casting grotesque shadows in the dancing light of my flame.
But it is not the cavern's natural features that stop me cold. It is what waits at its center.
Four cages. Empty. Bars of dull, dark metal rising from the stone floor like accusing fingers. Their doors hang open, locks distorted into shapeless lumps that gleam wetly in my firelight.
"Sovereign," Nathek whispers, gliding forward to examine the nearest cage. "These were occupied recently. Look."
He gestures to scattered items on the floor: a fragment of cloth that catches my eye immediately. The deep blue of Leira's tunic. A few scales scattered like fallen stars, tiny and violet. Zara's. Fresh naga blood. The sight of them ignites fresh fury.
"They were held here," I hiss, tail lashing so violently it cracks against stone. "Caged like animals."
Dreth moves cautiously toward the bars of the nearest cell, examining them with narrowed eyes. "These bars..." His claws tap against the metal, producing a dull, flat sound. "Basilyx lead. The strongest metal alloy our forges can produce." He squats, studying the misshapen remains of the lock. "And these were not cut. They were melted."
My gaze snaps to the lock, sudden understanding dawning. The metal has not merely been deformed by force or impact. It has flowed like wax, pooling and reforming in globular shapes that speak of intense, focused heat. Not the random destruction of an explosion or the sharp precision of a blade, but the careful application of fire.
Balken, his emerald scales gleaming like polished jade in the dim light, circles another cage. "Impossible," he murmurs, running a claw along the bars. "Even our hottest forge flames barely reach the melting point of basilyx lead.”
"It is the flame of a fire elemental," I say softly, revelation blooming like heated metal in my chest.
Five pairs of eyes turn to me, pupils contracting to slits in the brightness of my flame.
I move closer to the nearest lock, running my fingertips over its warped surface. The metal is cooling, but I can feel the echo of power that deformed it—not foreign, achingly familiar. My flame. My elemental essence. Called and channeled through a bond I barely understand myself.
"The Threadborn did this?" Nathek asks, disbelief evident in his tone.
"My bloodmate," I say, a surge of fierce pride cutting through the fear that still grips my heart. "She drew on our bond. Called my flame through the serpent stone and bent it to her will." Myvoice drops, wonder threading through the words. "Something I never thought possible."
Pride swells within me, sharp and bright as the flame that burns beneath my scales. Leira, my stubborn, defiant, brilliant Leira, did not wait for rescue. She found a way to free herself, to protect Zara, to fight back against those who sought to use her as a pawn.
Yet the pride cannot fully displace the cold dread that lingers. The empty cages mock me with their silence. Where is she now? The bond pulses stronger than ever, yet she is not here to meet me, not waiting in this chamber of abandoned prisons. She escaped into tunnels she does not know. The thought sends fresh heat coursing through my veins.
"They cannot have gone far," I say, already moving toward the far side of the chamber where another tunnel mouth yawns. "The locks are still warm beneath the surface."
I surge toward the tunnel entrance, fire pulsing beneath my scales with every beat of my heart. The pull of our bond grows stronger, a lifeline I cling to with desperate focus.
Just as I reach the threshold, movement flickers across the stone. Elongated silhouettes stretching and contracting along the ancient walls. I raise my hand, bringing our party to an abrupt halt. My flame dims slightly as I focus, pupils contracting to thin vertical slits to pierce the gloom. There, in the bend of the tunnel ahead—a waiting ambush.
