Magnus’ voice boomed through the air as his hands moved in an intricate, practiced pattern. Perched atop a hovering falcon-Val, the incanting wizard thrust his arms forward. Purple arcs crackled from his hands, vanishing a moment later. Cracks split the air in front of Magnus like a spiderweb streaking through the sky, then the scene before Kel'dhos dissolved into a massive shoreline. A cliffside shimmered into view as the majestic, auburn-colored falcon-Val lurched upward then dove back toward Kel’dhos and the deck of the .

  After learning of Mellus’ information about the illusion protecting the island, Magnus confidently devised a plan to dispel the enchantment. Having done so, the crew sailed the toward the landmass. A strange feeling took over Kel’dhos as the ship passed through the lingering spell. Everything was fuzzy and muted, a soft ringing was the only thing Kel’dhos could hear.

  Moments later, sound returned to normal and clarity returned to Kel’dhos’ vision as the illusion collapsed. A meager dock built into a jagged cliff face was upon them, and a single strip of sandy shore stretched from beneath the dock along the cliffs. A dark opening cut into the cliff beside the dock, leading to Sioch knows where.

  Something tugged at Kel’dhos. An ominous feeling he couldn’t explain. “I don’t like this… Not one bit.”

  “Hah!” Magnar slapped Kel’dhos on the back, knocking him off-balance. “Don’t worry yerself, laddie. We’ve survived far worse than an old dark cave!”

  He was right. But this felt different and Kel’dhos couldn’t put a finger on it.

  “Continue to the cavern, Trinold,” Telerek said to the captain. Val, still in her falcon form, perched herself atop the railing of the quarterdeck, cleaning her feathers.

  The groaned forward, creeping through the calm waters. No other ships sat along the shore, and it was impossible for Kel’dhos to see what lay beyond the gaping cavern opening. Unnerving. No—there was still something else. A quiet pull deep in Kel’dhos’ chest.

  Closing his eyes, Kel’dhos’ father materialized before him. A broad-shouldered man looking down at him. His hard, bearded face gave warning, but a warm inviting smile complemented him well.

  Longing rippled throughout Kel’dhos. A warmth filled his eyes. Memories flooded in. Times of joy as his father chased him around the temple grounds, pretending to be a monster, then to times of hard lessons, when Kel’dhos was taught to stop running from those monsters—to stand up against them and protect those who could not.

  It didn’t come easy for Kel’dhos. He wasn’t naturally brave, nor was he a specimen of martial prowess. No. He found his calling with books and knowledge, devoting himself to Sioch and his wisdom. And he felt he’d disappointed his father when he told him of his plans to take the path of a scholar within the Temple of Sioch. But it wasn’t disappointment Kel’dhos found within those bronze eyes, flecked with blue-green—only warmth and a quiet pride.

  No. Not disappointment at all. His father hugged him in that moment, nearly squeezing the air from his lungs—a grip so full of pride and love.

  Kel’dhos replayed that moment over and over. His father beaming with joy stood before him, clasping both hands on Kel’dhos’ shoulders.

  His mother stood beside them, wiping at a tear sliding down her cheek. Certain those were tears of relief, Kel’dhos gave a lopsided smile. She’d been terrified he’d take up the path of the paladin to please his father. She’d said, putting a gentle hand on Kel’dhos’ face.

  said his father.

  “…and strength leads to courage.”

  “Huh?” Magnus was beside Kel’dhos, raising an eyebrow at what he’d said. "Lost in your thoughts? If I remember correctly, the last time we were on a ship, I was the one whose mind had wandered from the present."

  “My apologies, Magnus. Father has been on my mind a lot lately. Blacktide told me one of his sources heard my father and the Heralds were headed to the Mhistana Detritus. It's been weighing on my mind lately,” Kel’dhos said. Rejoining the here and now, he found the was deep in the cavern and had reached yet another dock. Dying torches lit the slender structure as the ship’s gangway thudded down.

  No greetings or screams of enemies out for blood. Just the sound of water dripping and the far-off rushing waves breaking behind them. There were signs, however, that somebody had been here recently. A plate of half-eaten slop sat at the end of the dock where it met the rocks. A few streaks of blood lined the walls of the passage leading deeper into the cliff.

  Carefully stepping down the plank, something caught Kel’dhos’ eye. A piece of wood jutted out of the water on the opposite side of the dock. White bold letters on the uppermost section stood out like an elf in a sea of dwarves: .

  “Father…”

  Heart sinking, Kel’dhos frantically scanned the water, looking for any signs of bodies or other parts of a ship. All he could find were more broken and scattered planks and a piece of the sail caught on the nearby rocks.

  “Are you alright, Kel’dhos?” Magnus was next to him, looking at the wreckage.

  “The was the ship father and the Heralds commissioned in Ridgeton for their journey,” Kel’dhos stated. He rubbed at the Siochainn pendant around his neck, looking for any sort of divine comfort. “Their destination was not mentioned in the harbormaster’s log… It would seem I have finally discovered its fate…”

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  “Surely your father wasn’t on board,” said Magnus. “I would be surprised if a group of paladins would resign their fate to sinking aboard a ship this close to a dock.”

  Magnus’s reasoning made sense. Kel’dhos could feel his father did not perish in these waters. Sioch would not allow it. Not after sending them to secure one of his long lost relics.

  “I agree with you,” Kel’dhos added. “They must be somewhere ahead. Let’s catch up to the others.” He nodded to the opening in the rocks at the end of the dock, where Telerek knelt and touched the ground.

  “There seems to have been a struggle,” said Telerek. “Dried blood. Let’s push forward.” He rose and stepped into the passageway, Val, back in elven form, followed close behind.

  “Looks like these slavers have other troubles than just us, huh brother?” Magnar nudged Magnus, grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe we’ll get to crush some more skulls!”

  “I have no doubt we’ll see more battles ahead of us,” Magnus said, hand buried deep into his satchel as always.

  Magnar laughed and raced after Telerek and Val, his warhammer raised above his head. Beltayne clutched Winter’s Bite and whispered to it before following after the barbarian. Magnus shook his head and continued into the passage. Saying a quick prayer to the God of Wisdom, Kel’dhos exhaled and followed them into the darkness.

  An hour of winding ascent through rock and dirt followed, chorused with grunts and huffs from a complaining Magnar. Finally, a bright light filled the tunnel as they rounded the final corner, bringing them up to the surface. After a moment to adjust to the light, a massive, dilapidated temple-like building lay before Kel’dhos. Dark stone, weathered by time, lay cracked and fractured. A shell of its former glory, it still managed to stand proudly atop the cliffside surrounded by a thick tree line. Behind Kel’dhos, the waves crashed violently into the rocky cliffs below. A refreshing sea breeze carried a briny scent through the air.

  “Is that our ship?” asked Beltayne, pointing Winter’s Bite out to sea.

  Turning to face the ocean once more, Kel’dhos saw a ship with the same sails as the , cutting through the sea, heading toward the horizon.

  “Oh, yeah,” Val chimed in. “I heard Trinold telling the crew to prepare to sail as we were leaving the boat.”

  “And you didn’t say anything about this at the time?” A shade of red flushed Telerek’s cheeks. “Now we have to find another ship out here in the middle of nowhere!”

  Val raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were done with the boat.”

  “Ship...” added Beltayne. “It’s called a ship, Val. A boat is something you row.”

  “I can’t with you two right now.” With a flamboyant scoff, Telerek turned on his heel and stalked along the small dirt path leading away from the cave exit.

  Kel’dhos, feeling a tightening in his chest, jogged after the rogue, coming to a broad cobbled roadway heading straight toward the temple.

  Trees dominated the left side of the path, running alongside it all the way up the rubble that used to be a stone fence surrounding the ruined temple. Large pedestals decorated the yard leading up the front of the building—legs and feet of long-lost statues remained as a centerpiece for each pedestal.

  Walking from pedestal to pedestal, Kel’dhos couldn’t see what each statue had been. Their plaques were either in shambles or the words had faded into nothing. . He sure wished he could discern which god this temple worshipped. Loud crashes and clashing of steel tore Kel’dhos away from his task. Running toward the temple doors, he found the others already inside—whatever melee had happened was already over. One final orc, a single arrow stuck in its skull, fell to the ground in a groaning heap.

  Grumbling, Magnar rubbed his cheek, hand coming away bloody. “Damn bastard got lucky... Jumped out from around the corner!”

  Magnus could only shake his head. “Luckily you have that chitin armor for the rest of your body.”

  Golden light spilled from Kel’dhos’ hands as they hovered over Magnar’s cheek. The barbarian grunted and winced as the healing magic pulsed from Kel’dhos, sealing the wound as if it were nothing.

  “Thanks, laddie,” Magnar replied. “Now… what in the hells is this place?”

  “It’s a temple. Though, I do not know for which god.” Kel’dhos focused on the giant room before him, mouth falling open at the sight.

  Orc corpses lay strewn about the entryway. Several makeshift cots flanked either side of a long grey-blue aisle runner, which stretched the length of the room in front of Kel’dhos. Stone pillars the size of thousand-year-old trees, spaced evenly apart on either side of the center aisle, held up the vaulted ceiling above. Something about this place was oddly familiar.

  A raised dais sat in the center of the gigantic room—the steps were chipped and cracked. Grey-blue tapestries hung from the walls. Most were ripped and frayed, and a golden ‘S’ emblazoned each one.

  Heart skipping a beat, Kel’dhos bolted toward the center of the room, hand clutching his pendant. When he reached the pedestal, a large leatherbound book rested on the platform. He mouthed the words on the cover, “Blessed Sioch, Bringer of Peace and Keeper of Wisdom.”

  “Kel’dhos… What is it?”

  Turning, Kel’dhos found Magnus watching him, while the others scanned the room, their eyes darting from shadow to shadow. “This place… It’s a temple of Sioch.”

  Magnus’ eyes widened. “Oh!”

  “Ha!” boomed Magnar. “Ya think yer pops is here somewhere?”

  Kel’dhos began spinning, searching for signs of the Heralds of Sioch—any life beyond orcs and cultists. But only dust, broken pews, and scattered bones littered the expanse. A long grey-blue aisle runner led to the altar at the head of the church where shattered stained-glass windows towered behind.

  The group spread out, searching the entirety of the massive temple, finding nothing but remnants of enemies and abandoned living spaces. , he thought.

  “I’m sorry, Small-Ears,” Beltayne said, sounding disheartened. “It seems your search is not done yet.”

  Kel’dhos lowered his head with an exasperated sigh. he pondered. Moving to the front of the temple, Kel’dhos took a knee at the altar. A tableau decorated the front of the altar: a figure with elegant features clad in a blue-grey robe, head bowed in prayer, surrounded by a gathering of priests.

  Bowing his head in prayer, Kel’dhos reached out to Sioch. “Peaceful Sioch… I am trying not to falter, but it is so, so difficult. Why must I be tested like this?” He paused for a moment, opening his eyes and lifting his head to look at the broken window. Barely making out what used to be a beautiful depiction of Sioch and his Consecrated. “Please, Bringer of Peace, I beg of you… give me guidance for my continued determination…”

  He heard nothing. After all, it was to have direct communication with a Prime Deity such as Sioch. With a quiet exhale, Kel’dhos rose to his feet, slumped his shoulders and drifted away from the altar.

  Magnar and the others offered their sympathy as he passed. “Sorry, laddie. We’ll keep lookin’.”

  “What in the hells is that?”

  Stopping in his tracks, Kel’dhos turned to find Telerek pointing at a beam of brilliant golden light shining through the slanted roof. Descending diagonally down from the ceiling, the radiant beam fell onto a pillar nearest the altar. Kel’dhos dashed over to where light met stone and gasped. The golden light revealed a small indentation in the pillar, a circular shape with an ‘S’ shape in the center.

  He touched the pendant around his neck. A great smile grew on Kel’dhos’ lips. “It cannot be…” He removed the necklace and felt the ‘S.’ The raised pattern brushed against his fingers and a tingling sensation overtook him. This was it. It had to be.

  “Thank you, Blessed Sioch.” With that, Kel’dhos pushed the face of his pendant into the slotted stone and turned it clockwise until there was a faint click.

  The front of the pillar scraped outward toward Kel’dhos ever so slightly then slid sideways, revealing a spiral staircase leading downward into darkness.

  Taking a deep breath, Kel’dhos began his descent into the unknown.