The valley sat below them, lush green fields and bright flowers bloomed. A stream cut through the centre, bright and clear, and ruins hunched along the far side with collapsed walls swallowed by vines. It was the crystal that pulled Ray’s eyes back again and again, a spire on a low rise of stone, catching the last of the sun, glowing a silver hue.

  Vaeldren stood beside him, quiet for once. The old dragonkin’s shoulders looked heavier in the fading light, as though the weight of every death and every order had finally found somewhere to settle.

  Master… Miu pressed into his mind from somewhere behind the treeline, close enough that Ray could feel her attention without seeing her. That thing is going to change everything.

  Ray didn’t answer. His throat had gone dry. A civilisation crystal. Maybe he could finally take a break, slow down and relax for a day or two. The crystal meant a sense of safety. It meant people could stop walking until complete exhaustion.

  The System chose that moment to remind him it was still there.

  [You made it through the mountains without turning into a frozen corpse. Try not to let it go to your head. +1 Intelligence]

  Ray’s jaw tightened. Heat settled behind his eyes, brief and sharp, and then it was gone, leaving only the dull ache of fatigue and the cold air scraping his lungs. He hated that the insult landed clean because it was true. He had survived. He had helped them survive. He had carried an off-worlder back through hostile ground and he had not been swallowed by it.

  Vaeldren’s head turned slightly, his gaze sliding to Ray’s face. “Somethin’ up?”

  Ray let out a breath. “It just doesn’t feel real.”

  Vaeldren’s mouth twitched without humour. “I know what ye mean lad. Hopefully we can start rebuilding.”

  Behind them, the group waited in tense knots between the trees. People had felt the change in the air the same way Ray had. They had not seen the valley yet, but they could feel something ahead, something old and structured, pulling at them. The injured sat on packs and logs with their heads down. Fighters stood with hands on weapons, eyes scanning the ridges and brush.

  Vaeldren didn’t linger. He shifted from stillness back into command in a single breath. “We don’t rush it. We don’t run down there like fools. We look, we count, we check the edges. Theres a high chance of beasts here, we be careful.”

  Ray nodded and kept his voice low. “You want me up front?”

  “Aye,” Vaeldren said. “But first, I want Peter where I can see him.”

  Ray glanced back. Peter had been left with the healers on Vaeldren’s order, not out of cruelty, but because the boy was still a question mark and Vaeldren didn’t want an unknown to derail the group. Peter was upright now, wrapped in a blanket that looked too thin for the mountain air, hands clenched around a tin cup while he drank in slow, controlled sips. His eyes tracked Ray constantly.

  Ray started back down the slope and felt Miu shadow him through the scrub.

  He’s scared, she sent.

  “I know,” Ray muttered under his breath.

  He’s also angry, he feels left out, feels like he will never be truly accepted.

  I’ll talk to him. He’s going through a lot, I should know. Ray sent. He didn’t waste time. He crouched beside Peter, one hand firm on his shoulder. “We found something,” he said. “A crystal. A real one.”

  Peter’s eyes widened, then he swallowed. “So, is it over?”

  Ray didn’t give him that lie. “I’m not sure, maybe we can finally settle down. Rest for a bit.”

  Peter managed a weak snort that turned into a cough. He pressed the cup to his mouth again and forced the water down.

  Vaeldren came down behind Ray with two warriors. He didn’t look at Peter first. He looked at the convoy, then the slopes, then the treeline. Then his gaze finally landed on the human sitting in a blanket with his shoulders hunched against the cold.

  “We’re goin’ down,” Vaeldren said. “Slow and controlled. I want the dragonkin to move first, set the perimeter, see what’s still breathin’ down there.”

  Peter’s expression tightened. “What about me?”

  Vaeldren’s eyes pinned him. “Ye stay with Ray.”

  Ray felt it for what it was straight away. It was framed as guarding the weak off-worlder, and it was, partly. It was also Vaeldren keeping Ray’s hands off the crystal until the dragonkin had tried to claim it themselves.

  Ray met Vaeldren’s gaze and didn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. “You want me to babysit.”

  “I want you to keep your eyes open,” Vaeldren said, voice calm. “Peter’s still a question. If he runs, if he screams, if he does anythin’ stupid, we don’t have time for it down there. So you keep him steady, and you keep yourself steady.”

  Peter looked between them, reading tone even if he didn’t understand the politics. “I’m not a child.”

  Vaeldren didn’t soften. “Then stop actin’ like you can demand things.”

  Ray exhaled slowly and gave Peter a small nod to cut off the argument before it started. “We’ll follow once they secure it,” Ray said. “We’re not being left behind.”

  Vaeldren turned to go, then paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Ray.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You wanted a path,” Vaeldren said. “This is just a stop for you.”

  Ray sighed. “I know.”

  “Aye,” Vaeldren murmured. “Think about what you want while you’re here. You may not have chosen to be here, but you have options now that you are.”

  Then he was moving again, a controlled descent down the slope with dragonkin fighters spreading out in a loose fan, weapons ready, eyes sharp. The convoy began to stir behind them, murmurs turning to breathy urgency as people tried to see between trunks and over shoulders.

  The dragonkin didn’t rush it. They moved in a slow wedge down the slope, boots testing each patch of grass before committing weight, spears angled forward and slightly down, bows already half drawn. Vaeldren kept them spread enough that one bad step or one hidden threat wouldn’t swallow the whole group, but close enough that anyone who stumbled would have hands on them within seconds. The valley’s beauty didn’t soften the way they worked. It made them harsher. Bright flowers meant cover for small predators. Clear streams meant animals came to drink, and animals drew bigger things. Every few metres a fighter stopped and crouched, scanning the ground for broken stalks, disturbed soil, fresh scat, anything that suggested the valley was already claimed. The light looked clean down there, almost gentle, but the dragonkin treated it like a trap anyway, because that was the only way they were still breathing.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Halfway down, the first movement came out of the long grass. A pair of lean, low-slung creatures, somewhere between a jackal and a lizard, slipped toward the rear of the formation with their heads low and their bellies close to the ground. One of the dragonkin spotted the twitch of grass before the bodies, hissed a warning, and the wedge tightened without breaking stride. The beasts lunged anyway, desperate or stupid, snapping at ankles and going for the gaps. Steel met them fast. A spear pinned one clean through the shoulder and dropped it in the dirt without ceremony, while another fighter brought a blade down in a short, brutal chop that ended the second’s charge mid-leap. There was no cheering, no relief, just a quick wipe of gore off steel and a glance around for more, because small hunters rarely travelled alone. A third shape tried to break away toward the stream and Vaeldren’s throwing knife took it through the ribs, neat and calm, the sort of throw that said he’d done this a thousand times and had stopped counting. They didn’t slow after. They stepped over the bodies, checked the grass line again, and kept moving, because the crystal was waiting and the valley was still watching.

  ***

  Ray stayed where he was with Peter, sitting on a rock that cut the wind slightly, watching the line of dragonkin make their way into the valley like a cautious tide.

  Peter watched too, then glanced at Ray. “They don’t trust you… or me. We won’t belong here.”

  Ray didn’t look at him. He didn’t say anything. Silence was enough for Peter to understand.

  Peter’s fingers tightened on the blanket. “What will you do after this?”

  Ray poked a stick into the ground. He hadn’t thought about that for awhile. “Honestly, I don’t know. We’re in unfamiliar territory in an unfamiliar world, with people we don’t truly belong with. I might just pack up and leave.”

  Ray finally met his eyes. Peter looked older than he had a few days ago. Less blank. Less broken. Still thin, still bruised, still carrying that hollow stare that came from dying once and waking somewhere you didn’t understand.

  “You said you died in the blasts,” Ray said quietly.

  Peter nodded once. “Yeah. I’m from Manchester. It was late, close to midnight.” He swallowed, eyes going unfocused for a second. “I had finished a late shift. I was going out for drinks with the tossers at work.”

  Ray stayed silent. He was pondering.

  “You said you were in an interview? What were you going for.”

  He dragged a hand down his face, like he could wipe the memory off. “Yeah, I was in accounting, trying to move up the ladder. I had just finished the strangest interview ever and walked outside.”

  His fingers tightened around the blanket. “There was a flash. White… like a flashbang? I don’t know I’m still fuzzy on it. I just remember the impact and then a void.”

  Ray’s jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

  Peter stared down at his hands. “I don’t remember any flashes or voids. There weren’t even any warnings. I was just cracking jokes, then fire… Pain, and I woke up here.”

  An awkward silence settled in. It felt like an eternity before Peter broke it with a huff and started laughing. “Of course you were an accountant.”

  Ray glanced at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You sound like an office bloke,” Peter said, then laughed. “Sorry. I just… I don’t know. It’s weird. You hear accents, you hear words, and it’s funny thinking that none of that even matters now.”

  Ray’s fingers curled against the rock. Then he let out a laugh, possibly the first real one in a long time. “Right! I’m sitting here still, I look at my stats like a spreadsheet.”

  Peter’s eyes dropped, letting things settle. “Do you think it’s gone?”

  Ray didn’t need to answer. The question had been asked a dozen ways by a dozen people in his own head, and it always ended the same way.

  Peter swallowed and spoke anyway, because silence didn’t help. “I had a sister,” he said. “Little. Sixteen. She used to steal my chips and then look offended when I told her off.” His voice roughened. “I keep thinking she’s going to call me. Like my phone’s going to buzz and I’ll see her name.”

  Ray’s throat tightened. He hadn’t thought about his own family in days. It had been survival, then more survival, then the next thing that tried to kill him. If he stopped to feel it properly, he wasn’t sure he’d stand back up.

  “You’re not the only one,” Ray said. “Teddy was off-world too.”

  Peter’s head lifted. “The bloke they keep mentioning?”

  “Yeah,” Ray said. “He helped them. He fought. He didn’t… turn into whatever they fear.” Ray’s jaw set. “He’s gone now.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Killed?”

  Ray nodded.

  Peter took a slow breath and looked down the slope again. “So if he could do it… maybe I can too.”

  Ray watched him carefully. “Don’t go chasing hero stories. Stay alive first.”

  Peter’s mouth tightened, then he nodded once. “Alright.”

  Ray’s vision ticked to the corner of his awareness where the stat counter had been sitting like an accusation ever since the mountains. Fifteen points. Fifteen choices he’d been too exhausted to touch. He’d been waiting for the crystal because the class mattered, but points were points, and he needed his head clear before he even considered a class.

  He pulled the window up.

  Peter noticed Ray’s eyes darting around. It looked like he was fiddling with something that wasn’t there. “What are you doing?” He asked.

  Ray jumped, he had forgotten Peter was there for a moment. “Oh. I’m allocating my stats. I gained a few levels a while ago.

  “Can you show me?” Peter asked.

  Ray went on to explain everything he had learned from Ilaria and Teddy. The windows and items that were important. It wasn’t long before Peter had gotten the hang of opening windows.

  “Hey!” Peter exclaimed. “I gained an intelligence point just for playing with the windows!”

  Ray smiled. “Yeah, the system likes to taunt me too.”

  “What taunt? It just told me that for learning I gained the point.”

  Well, that was interesting. This confirmed that Ray was definitely getting different messages to others. Not just the regular ones. That couldn’t be a coincidence. He turned back to his windows and allocated his points. Continuing his theory of balance, he focused on Mind and Intelligence, with… for once allocating some points to Luck.

  Mind +6

  Intelligence +6

  Luck +3

  Ray felt the points settle into him. His mind felt lighter, almost like he could process things faster. The tightness behind his eyes eased a fraction.

  Peter was staring at his own numbers. “Man.. this is insane. I wish I were a nerd now.”

  ***

  Down in the valley, the dragonkin reached the crystal spire. Even from this distance, Ray could see it more clearly now. The spire wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need size to feel heavy. The glow inside it remained steady, and the air around it looked sharper, cleaner, as though the world had been cut and stitched back together there.

  Vaeldren circled it once. He didn’t touch it straight away. He spoke to the dragonkin around him, short and clipped. They formed a ring, weapons out, eyes on the ruins and the brush beyond.

  Then one of the dragonkin stepped forward and put a hand on the crystal.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then the spire flared. Light pulsed outward in a smooth wave that made the grass shiver and the stream flash bright. A low hum hit the air, structured and cold.

  The dragonkin jerked back with a sharp intake of breath. His hand snapped away as though burned, but Ray didn’t see smoke or blistering. He saw rejection. The dragonkin stared at his palm, confused, then angry.

  A second dragonkin tried.

  The same pulse. The same hum. The same clean denial.

  Vaeldren stepped forward next.

  Ray felt Peter’s body tense beside him. “What are they doing?”

  “Trying to claim it,” Ray said.

  Peter frowned. “Can’t they?”

  Ray’s mouth went dry. “They’re going to find out.”

  Vaeldren placed his palm on the spire and held it there longer than the others had, stubborn enough to force an answer if the world could be bullied. The crystal’s light brightened, then sharpened, and for an instant Ray thought it might accept him through sheer will.

  Then the hum turned harsh. The air snapped.

  Vaeldren’s hand came off and he took a single step back, controlled and calm, but Ray saw the muscle in his jaw jump.

  Vaeldren’s head turned, and even from the ridge Ray knew where his gaze went.

  Straight to him.