Tiernan gestures, urging caution, and I nod. Slowly, with respect for the ancient magic we’re trespassing upon, I reach out and grasp therelic. Its power hums through me, warm despite the surrounding chill.
The journey to the surface feels more treacherous now, the awareness of lurking dangers heightened by the trident in my hands. Every shadow seems alive, every current a potential threat.
We break the surface, gasping for breath, the chill of the water clinging to our skin. My fingers tighten around the Trident of Tides, its glow dimming as if it senses its return to the air. Revelin pulls himself onto the edge of the pool, water cascading off him in rivulets, while Khol and Tiernan follow suit, their expressions a mix of relief and triumph.
Not the time to think about how fucking hot they look, Fi.
The serpent’s massive head dips towards us, its eyes reflecting a wisdom that seems to stretch through the centuries. “Impressive,” it rumbles, the vibrations resonating in my chest. I can’t help but stand a little taller, pride swelling within me like a tide.
“Thank you,” Revelin replies, his tone respectful. He gives me an approving nod, acknowledging the part we all played.
As the serpent’s gaze lingers on the trident in my hand, I sense its approval, an unspoken commendation passing between us. It’s as though it recognizes something in us—maybe the same determination that drove whoever built these ruins.
“Your valor has been proven,” the serpent declares. Its colossal body shifts, scales catching the light, and with a graceful motion that belies its size, it reveals a section of the cavern wall sliding away to expose a hidden passage.
Tiernan scoops up Dezi’s discarded pack, slinging it over his shoulder with a grunt. Khol retrieves the various weapons we left behind, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a satisfied smile. Even Dezi, who had stayed behind, nods in silent respect as he joins us, his dark eyes flickering to the trident.
“Guess we’re ready for the final boss battle,” I smirk. The weight of the relic in my hands feels like a promise, a tangible piece of the puzzle we’re here to solve. I glance back at the pool, at the creature that could have been our end, and instead became a testament to our resolve. “Thank you.”
It simply nods, a guardian granting passage to those deemed worthy. When it doesn’t demand the heavy ass relic back, I realize it intends for us to take it along for the ride.
Well, okay, then Nessie.
With the trident secured and my daggers back in place, I lead the way into the shadowed passage. I can almost taste the secrets waiting to be unraveled.
Dezi is right; this mystery is pushing us to the limit and back again.
Istep into the cavern behind Fiadh, my feet skimming over the cool stone floor with a practiced caution. The air is musty with the scent of undisturbed centuries, and the darkness seems almost sentient, wrapping around us like a shroud. Tiernan, ever the prepared one in our motley crew, fishes out flashlights from his seemingly bottomless bag and hands them out.
“Careful,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the walls themselves might be listening.
The beams of light cut through the gloom, revealing a chamber that dwarfs all the ones we’ve traversed before. It’s not just larger—it’s a veritable museum of history, with artifacts piled haphazardly against the walls. There are items I recognize from textbooks and heist movies; treasures that vanished from the world, now hidden away here like a dragon’s hoard.
“Damn,” I breathe out, unable to stop myself. “This is... insane. Do you know how much scratch we could make carting this back and selling it? Fuck. Me. Running.” My statement earns me matching glares from the others, but who the fuck cares?
I’m not wrong.
My flashlight beam dances over the walls, landing on intricate carvings and faded murals that speak of a time when the stars were maps and guides. They depict constellations, zodiac signs, all the celestial players in the theatre of the night sky.
“Ugh, astrology,” I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes at the thought of people believing that stars millions of miles away have any say in their lives. “What aload of absolute bullshit.”
“Actually,” Sassy interjects, stepping closer to a mural carved with what looks like an ancient star map, “it’s not as simple as you think. Human interpretations may be flawed, but for those of us attuned to magic, there’s considerable truth in the stars.”
Her fingers trace the lines of a constellation I can’t name, her touch reverent. The dim glow of her skin seems to resonate with the stone, a subtle dance of light that suggests she’s more than just muscle and sass.
“Seers, magic users—we can glean things that go beyond mere horoscopes and fortune-telling,” she adds, her amber eyes flicking up to meet mine. “There’s power woven into the cosmos, patterns that speak to those who know how to listen.”
I’m about to argue—because that’s what I do—but something in our girl’s expression stops me. There’s an earnestness there, a conviction that makes me bite back my skepticism.
Maybe there’s more to this world than I care to admit, even after everything we’ve seen.
As her words linger between us, Revelin steps forward, the light from his flashlight casting an otherworldly glow on his face. “The lass is right, snake. Human myths,” he says, his voice echoing slightly off the walls, “are but shadows of the truth. The real magic—the essence behind cards, runes, spells, and stars—that’s the lifeblood of our kind. ”
Dezi lets out a long, deliberate sigh, his silhouette framed by the towering piles of relics. “Are we done defending the legitimacy of magic users’ beliefs, then?” he asks, her tone weary but edged with irritation. “I don’t think convincing the snakelet is getting us any closer to figuring out what this chamber wants us to do.”
Fiadh bristles at the comment, her gaze as sharp as the shards of light reflecting off the surrounding treasure. “I couldn’t give a damn about the fools who exiled me,” she retorts, her eyes still locked on Dezi, “but I won’t stand for being lumped in with charlatans and con artists.”
I can feel the tension prickle my skin, and without thinking, I wince. The last thing we need is infighting—not here, surrounded by centuries of history that could turn on us in an instant. Voice barely above a murmur, I lean towards our mate, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
