Dusk arrived, and with it did the otherworldly fog. The sky remained dark as a thick layer of clouds blocked the stars and moon.

  Alaric watched the people with a scowl. The newcomers – survivors from the destroyed Hallowed Ground – were sitting some distance away from the campfire. They had taken their food and water and quickly left the light of the fire, instead preferring to sit in the darkness, by the northern side of the Hallowed Ground.

  The rest of the people were oddly quiet too. The air was charged, and it was suffocating. The only thing that broke the silence was the crackle of the fire.

  It wasn’t long before the howling and the heavy footsteps started. The Profaned Legion prowled the borders of the Hallowed Ground, waiting for its protection to come to an end.

  Alaric watched their silhouettes, occasionally lit up with the silver-black Wyrdflame. A part of him wanted to question them as to why they were so bloodthirsty, but he knew it was pointless. The answer every single ‘why’ question had always been The Empyrean. The faceless god who made all of this happen. Who punished Sophia.

  He shook his head. Now’s not the time. There was one more thing he needed to do. His gaze scoured the crowd sitting around the fire until he spotted the young woman with fiery crimson hair. He walked over to her and lightly tapped her shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

  She nodded, placed her empty bowl on the ground and quickly got up to follow him. “What is it?” She asked once they were on the other side of the boulder.

  “I’m trying to think of every possibility.” He hesitated. “So… this is more of a last resort.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Say I found the mana core, but I had to fight for it.” He kept his voice low. “I’ll likely not make it here before dusk, and… well,” he shot a meaningful glance at the fog enveloping the Hallowed Ground. “If I can’t outrun them, or I’m too wounded to make it back, Cinder will come to find Sol and Luna. And those two will follow you around.”

  Victoria’s eyes widened. “But-“

  “I’ll stall for as long as I can if that happens, because we don’t know what happens to the animals once the mark bearer dies. I’ll try and make sure Cinder has enough time to find you, and you have enough time to take the mana core from the saddlebags.”

  The young girl’s face grew paler. “You speak as if you’re not planning on coming back.”

  He quickly shook his head. “Last resort, remember? I won’t just… not choose to come back. I have to survive. I must. But if I don’t, I’ll try and give you guys a chance, alright?”

  Victoria hesitated before nodding. “Just so you know… I don’t think we’ll last long without you.” Her thin eyebrows furrowed, and her forehead scrunched up as she glanced at the people gathered around the campfire. “There are rumours that Martin’s group is the cause of the Profaned Legion’s hunt, and that we’ll be safe if we send them away.”

  He nearly choked on his own breath. “What?” he breathed out, almost forgetting to keep his voice low. “If anything, it’s our fault because we were attacked first. What are these people thinking?”

  Victoria pursed her lips and shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s a bit scary. So you better come back, because while Charles is trying his best, he alienated a lot of people already, and not everyone listens to him anymore.”

  And what, they’ll listen to me? He already knew how she would answer, so he saw no point in voicing that. “Keep Clara and Elizabeth close to you. Harriet too. And make sure you’re always near Lochlan or Avery.”

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  She nodded. “I’ll be safe – Sol and Luna will be with me too. Besides,” she forced a weak, bitter smile. “You’ll only be gone till evening.”

  “… yeah, just till evening.” Why did his chest feel so heavy, his throat so tight?

  ***

  Cinder broke into a gallop as soon as the first ray of sunlight pierced the thick fog. Wind blew in his face as he held on tightly with his legs and leaned forward with a hunched back to protect himself from the wind.

  Howls echoed around him. He spotted silhouettes, but they were left behind within seconds. Even the fastest wolf couldn’t reach Cinder’s speed. The stallion ran like the wind as sunlight finally dissipated the thick fog.

  When he shot a glance over his shoulder, he spotted a group leaving the Hallowed Ground. Victoria and the others rushed to Castle Dorwan.

  We will find that bloody mana core!

  Kindling hope, he leaned forward and looked ahead. He was going to make it back.

  The terrain flowed past him. Minutes passed, turning into hours. The sun climbed the sky, partially obscured by dark clouds. The wind started to turn cold as it changed directions. It blew from the northern mountains now, carrying the scent of wet earth with it.

  Soon, familiar terrain was behind him. He followed the landmarks Martin mentioned, keeping his eyes peeled for the Spire. He was closer to the fog-covered structure looming in the distance than ever before. It towered above all else, likely casting a dark shadow. It pained him to see the town he once called home to have turned into a dark, intimidating fortress like this. He looked away, though the shape always remained at the corner of his vision.

  His legs ached with pain from riding for so long as he rode past the destroyed farm that once was Martin and his group’s hallowed ground. The terrain became somewhat more uneven and hilly as he rode south. The fog-covered fortress was now to his right.

  I should be close. With squinted eyes, he scanned the horizon. Had the spires disappeared? His chest tightened. No way, they wouldn’t. He tried to convince himself. It had to be somewhere near here.

  As Cinder reached the top of a hill, and started galloping downhill, a dark spire peeked out from over the next hill. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes for just a second. It’s there. He glanced at the sky.

  The sun had reached its zenith perhaps fifteen minutes ago.

  It’ll be close.

  At least the way back was going to be easier, now that both he and Cinder knew the path. At worst, Cinder would just run towards Luna and Sol.

  Feeling as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders, he revealed his mana pool by touching the back of his hand. Amidst the pool of blue mana, two small and a large cloud of crimson floated. Both Sol and Luna were still alive. He let it all disappear again. Everyone was likely fine. They could handle some blind skeletons – especially with Victoria there.

  Cinder scaled the next hill, finally fully revealing the large structure.

  “Stay here,” he whispered as the stallion arrived at the foot of the stairs leading to the large, two-winged doors. The structure was quite large. Looking around, Alaric didn’t see anything hostile.

  He hopped down the saddle, drew his blade, and approached the doors. He paused in front of the doors and listened intently for a few moments. All he heard was the wind whistling through the tiny gap between the door wings.

  “Please be a safe one…” he whispered as he slowly pushed the door open.

  The door opened with surprising ease, revealing a large, rectangular chamber with a set of stairs leading to the second floor just across the entrance. He sheepishly glanced inside, to the corners and shadows. There didn’t seem to be anything waiting to lunge at him.

  A few hesitant steps carried him inside. His footsteps and the howling wind were the only thing breaking the deafening silence. With a little more confidence, he crossed the room and hurried up the stairs, tightly holding onto his sword.

  The second floor was a circular room, each wall covered in bookshelves. The shelves were overflowing, though most books had been turned into piles of dust by now. The few surviving books looked so brittle he was sure touching one would only grant it the same fate as the others.

  But none of that mattered. His gaze landed on the pedestal at the centre of the room, housing a dull, crimson gemstone about as large as his fist. Crimson veins spread from it, disappearing in the obsidian floor.

  “Bloody hell, finally.” He sheathed the weapon, then took off his cloak and spread it on the ground. Once it was nice and evenly placed, he carefully held the mana core and pulled gently.

  The crimson veins came off one by one, until it was no longer connected to the Nesting Spire. He gently put the core down on the cloak, then wrapped it in a tight bundle before rushing downstairs. Cinder was still standing where he left it. He put the mana core into the saddlebag, secured it, then climbed back onto the saddle. “Take me back to Luna and Sol, Cinder.”

  The Stallion neighed before breaking into a dash. The terrain flowed, and the cold wind bit as he had lost the protection of his cloak. With a tight jaw, he leaned forward.

  We can make it!