Sometimes, he wasn't sure how he could go back to civilisation and wander around at night like it was normal, not after this place.

Wandering Fordain and Tathlani at night had landed him in trouble on both occasions, but there had never been the same deep sense of… foreboding that he felt here. The deep sense that something very wrong was happening in the darkness, in those shadows that mushroom light just couldn't pierce properly. And those were the more subtle occasions. There were more obvious areas that had required little persuasion on his part to prove that they were bad news.

"Absolutely not. You can walk wherever you see fit, but if you go down that passageway, we are not following."

Danadrian crossed his arms whilst Gellron stared bloody murder at him.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark? I would have expected a mental breakdown before now, if that were the case."

"Antagonising me will not goad me into following you. There is something wrong with that passage. I have felt it before, and I feel it again now. That isn't just any darkness. That's…" The word was on the tip of his tongue. "…Darkness. The Abyss."

The very antithesis of what he was, of who he was.

Gellron was still glaring daggers. "The air that way is fresher. It will be our fastest route to an exit, if one that doesn't lead us into Talradian hands exists."

"Then you can enjoy that exit by yourself, because I'm certainly not walking into that." Alleria stepped in beside him.

"I passed many of these trapped spells by myself when I was tracking you two. They were dealt with the same way I dealt with the others. They shouldn't have been any sort of threat to you with suitable protections. Doubly so for the two of you."

"What, that's not possible," Alleria spluttered. "Abyssal Magic… there's no mana to contend with. None of our blades should be effective against it, you know this."

Hm?

"Do not presume to lecture me. Whether this is some unknown facet of the ruins' magic or something else entirely is irrelevant. There is no need to fear the Darkness, so there is no reason to avoid it."

He turned back to lead them forward, seemingly ending the conversation then and there.

Danadrian raised his voice.

"No."

"What?" He turned back. "Do all Lightbringers ignore common sense, or are you simply a coward amongst cowards?"

The urge to shout back balled up into bile at the back of his throat, but she shook his head. "You can trust evidence, while I trust my senses. There is something wrong with that, and nothing you say will sway me. Besides, the Abyss sits in opposition to the Light, which makes me somewhat of an expert in this matter."

The Demon looked sharply between the two of them, and his horns began to flare. He shoved past them. "Fine. And we can all thank your intuition and senses when the Demon Hunters catch us, or we hit another dead end. They will not be dissuaded by a little shadow."

He breathed a sigh of relief as they turned away from that passage, backtracking to a fork and taking the opposite path. And as much as he wanted to disagree with Gellron, he had been right on one account.

The air there had been clearer. The hallway they were wandering down now was the opposite. The air was even staler than before, murky and full of dust. He could not be one hundred percent sure, but it could even be slanted down somewhat, meaning they were going deeper into the ground, rather than reaching for its surface.

He gripped his pendant with one hand. It was cold to the touch.

He turned to Alleria. "What was it you were talking about before?"

"Which part?"

"About the Abyss. You said that when it came to Dark Magic, there would be 'no mana to contend with.' What was that about?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

They stared in confusion at one another for a second before she started running a hand over her forehead.

"Abyssal Magic doesn't require mana to be used or 'drawn upon' as you might say. It remains the only school of magic to operate that way, even amongst its contemporary Powers. That's the gist of what the books say on the matter."

He blinked. "But that… that doesn't make any sense. It is magic, isn't it? That necessitates a manipulation of mana to control it."

"Hey, your guess is as good as mine. I'm just the Demon who understands the theory. And the fact that it breaks it. You never got close enough to test the traps with Darkness around, did you?"

He arched his eyebrow. "No, I did not approach the dangerous spell that made my insides want to crawl out."

"Hey, don't get snappy." She lowered her voice, "I wasn't the one who confidently claimed they were 'somewhat of an expert on this matter'"

"I was not entirely wrong. There just seems to be a few areas that I'm lacking in."

She just snorted. "How truly honest of you, Danadrian."

Their descent deeper and deeper into the dungeon continued for an incalculable amount of time. To say he had long since forgotten how many days it had been would be an understatement. He no longer understood the concept of a night and day, instead living between 'resting' and 'walking.' A healthy sleep schedule might as well be a foreign concept, and his muscles hurt so much, and had for so long, that it had become a natural state he'd got used to.

Eventually, even the slimy substance that was smeared over the walls began to disappear, and he coated a branch with some to act as a pseudo light source. Alleria did the same.

And Gellron kept marching forward, only looking back at them now again, so, presumably, he could make sure they weren't lagging behind or had tried to break away from him down another hallway. As if that would amount to much.

It wasn't like they were captive, per se, but they certainly were not as free as either of them would have liked. Being stuck in an alliance of convenience with a Demon that could and would kill him if he thought it was worth the effort wasn't comforting, and whenever they rested, he found himself less sleeping and more resting his eyes. His other senses continued to be on high alert, reacting to even the smallest sound. None of that helped his energy levels, which continued to deplete.

They encountered what he had concluded were Abyssal Magic traps twice again, excluding the first, with both blocking the path Gellron wanted to take. The first time, he'd been upset. The second time, he was seething. The third time, he looked ready to rip Danadrian apart then and there. Thankfully, instead of doing that, he wandered over to a nearby pillar, adorned with ancient carvings and writing dating back the Light only knew how long, and placed his hand on it.

The entire pillar shook, which shook the roof above them, then began to crack. He watched as the pillar systematically ripped itself apart, piece by piece, until it was rock and dust falling to the ground. He turned to Alleria, not bothering to hide his wide eyes, but she just nodded.

"You remember my story about Lord Wrathius and the Oridaethian Waystones? Gellron is about a hundred times weaker than that."

That got her a scowl darker than night, but Danadrian's head still hurt.

So it's a sword that can kill with a touch and block mana as well, in some way, as well as the ability to destroy stone with a single touch. And on our side, we have a disgraced Angelica with a fraction of his powers, most of which are blocked by the sword he uses. Said sword being very good against mages and very ineffective against Demons. And Alleria, who can copy the skills of her enemies, who also has a sword that can kill with a single touch, though she can only use it moderately well.

All in all, he wasn't entirely confident in their odds when it came to this situation.

Eventually, they came to a stop, though this time it wasn't because of Danadrian or any Darkness to speak of. It was actually for what was, at first glance, quite a mundane reason.

They had hit a dead end.

The hallway they'd been following for what felt like a few hours without any fork or divergence had now stopped before a wall, as any dead end would. This wasn't the first time they had hit a dead end before, far from it in fact. Between rests, he estimated they wandered down one-way passages at least six times. Each one cost them precious time, energy, and frankly morale, so seeing this one made his heart seize up again. Right until he stepped in beside Gellron and saw what he had not turned around immediately.

The wall was different.

If I had not spent Light only knows how long staring at these, I probably wouldn't even notice.

The colour was the same, and the bricks were the same, but it was conspicuously blank, lacking all the carvings and murals that ran over each wall beside it.

"And it's completely undamaged," Alleria pointed out. "There's no way that's normal."

"It looks like it was built yesterday." He ran his hand over the clear stone, trying to feel for anything that might give away what this was. "Earth Magic?"

"It would have disappeared the moment we got within range."

"Not necessarily. It could be part of the ground that was raised by Earth Magic. Past tense. There wouldn't be any flowing mana to speak of."

"Well, if so, when? It's like you said, it looks like it was built yesterday."

He continued running his hands over it, walking past Gellron, who glanced between the two of them.

He snorted, which might have been the first sign of humour Danadrian had ever heard from him. "It's no wonder the Talradians got the jump on you if you stopped to inspect every obstacle that got in your way."

He stepped forward and raised a hand. A dark light began to form, crackling and bursting, as if held back by an invisible force, but just barely. He backed away from him immediately, but surprisingly, it was Alleria who stepped forward.

"Do you plan on bringing the roof down on us?" She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand back before it touched the stone wall. The moment her fingers touched his skin, he flinched and threw her off. He backed away, his eyes wide with fury.

"Touch me again, and I will remove your arm. You hear me? Remove it."

Alleria was also staring at her hand, but her face looked less angry and more… melancholic?

He blinked and looked back at his hand, which had kept idly moving across the wall. He ran it back over a spot and leaned in closer. There was a crack in it, barely wider than his hand if held vertically. He rubbed a bit of slime on his finger and stuck his hand in.

"Are you insane?"

He ignored her warnings and the warnings ringing in his own head, but was, regardless, stymied by his arms, which were too wide to push through. With the light of the slime, he could only see far enough in to conclude that there was something on the other side, meaning this was less of a wall and more of a barricade.

Strange, and very intentional. I originally thought this might be a deterrent to stop anyone from passing, but the crack implies that at least some people were allowed to get through; otherwise, there'd be no point in leaving a hole in an otherwise deliberately perfect wall.

He scratched the back of his head, then winced and eyed his palm. The cut he'd made to activate the blood magic spell was still there, covered with a strip of torn cloth. He glanced between it and the wall in front of him.

"Don't even think about it," Alleria warned him quietly; she'd backed away from Gellron and was now standing beside him, inspecting the crack.

"I was not intending to. Well, only if all else failed. It's a bad habit to get into, activating blood magic spells."

"On that we can agree. So if we need more blood, just use mine. I can spare a few drops."

He nodded. This place is making both of us a bit too desensitised when it comes to this stuff.

So if this wall was meant to be passed through by some, but only if they knew how to do it, then what was the methodology behind it? What did the snake-people know or have that others, be they invaders or just plain outsiders, didn't?

He thought back to the traps. Traps that, he had noticed before, would be lethal to anyone not protected by an anti-magic sword. With it, they instead became trivial; down from being a threat in the same way a tuffhorn or bear was, to the same amount of danger getting stung by a poisonous fish was, whilst wandering the coastline. Yes, it could kill you, but if you were walking on land, you had to really be seeking it out.

Lethal without the protection of the sword…

Idly, he reached over his back and pulled out the aforementioned sword. The sword that he was now certain these people had forged, covered in the same unknowable writing. He ran a hand over the flat of the blade, then looked up at the crack in the wall. A crack… or maybe a slit.

He raised the blade and began lining it up.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Do you have a better idea? If I am wrong, nothing happens, and it was a waste of time. And anyway, the worst that can happen is I get it stuck, and we have your brother risk bringing the roof down on us trying to get it out."

A dark voice responded, "If you get your own blade stuck, that's on you."

"Right. And with that vote of confidence…" He finished aiming the tip and plunged it full-force through the wall. To be honest, he was not sure how far it would go, but he ended up pushing it all the way up to the hilt.

Nothing happened. It was worth a shot, he thought as he readjusted his grip and prepared to pull it back out again. That was when he felt the tiniest response from the edge of the blade as it tapped against something that wasn't stone.

The wall collapsed, dissolving as it were completely vaporised. They backed away and began swatting aside the dust cloud that followed. He heard a soft thump as his sword landed amongst the dirt and stone, which had formed a neat pile on the ground. When he leaned down beside it, he found a small crystal, silent and empty, lying beside it.

He put the mana crystal in his backpack and turned back to the two Demons. "A lot better than the alternative, I would say."

But they weren't looking at him, for once. Both were gazing over his shoulder. He swatted away the last of the dust cloud around his face and turned to see what they were looking at. He paused, then stepped forward.

What stretched out before them was a room as big as the hall with the statues, perhaps even bigger. But whereas that had been a domed room filled with pillars and carvings across the wall that talked to him like a story, this one had a far different atmosphere.

It was rectangular, running far longer and thinner, and whilst there were carvings here, their numbers were much less than he was expecting. Even less than the hallways they'd been walking through. Instead, the walls were filled with holes. Large holes, small holes, some big enough to walk through without even touching the ceiling, others so small he imagined a cat might have trouble squeezing through them.

And it was covered in slime. It ran all the way from the roof, down the walls in massive, trailing globs, to the floor, where it expanded out like sludgy pools of water. It wasn't as bright as a conglomeration of mana crystals, but to his eyes that hadn't seen daylight in weeks, it still made him flinch and look away.

"This place makes my skin crawl."

He turned to see that Alleria had edged in beside him, glancing side to side with obvious discomfort written across her face. "What about it upsets you?"

"I didn't say it upset me, just that it makes my skin crawl. It's creepy, all those perfectly shaped holes everywhere, leading to gods only know where."

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"You make a fair point. I, for one, was more curious as to what that is supposed to be."

He pointed out a dais at the end of the room, which they were approaching, slightly raised and accessible via a set of stairs. And at the top… well, he wasn't quite sure what was at the top, because it was covered by a massive, jagged cube of ice. Bright blue, cloudy and murky, and, though he felt he was stating the obvious-

"That isn't natural. Another spell then?"

"Has to be."

He heard crunching feet and glanced left. Gellron was silent as he studied the holes in the wall, his hand constantly resting on the hilt of his sabre. He too looked at the cube of ice and frowned. Or that was what Danadrian assumed was a frown. His face was usually fixed in what he would call a frown, but this seemed to be a deeper one.

"Do you have any insight to share, Gellron?"

"If this entire dungeon weren't uninhabited, this would be the perfect location for an ambush. One main entrance with numerous hidden areas that could conceal dozens."

"Surely that many tunnels would give anyone ambushed ample choice for an escape route?"

He shook his head. "Fool. Have you ever been ambushed before?"

"More times than I can count, frankly."

He looked him over with those amber eyes of his, full of judgment, before he nodded. "Well, you got lucky then, because with ideas like that, you should have been dead after the first two. Unless you have a full understanding of your terrain, those holes should not be seen as possible escape routes, but as kill zones to avoid at all costs. It would be easy, too easy, to force you into one of those with enough against you. Then they would just need to sit back and watch as you fumble your way into a spiked pit."

"And what of positioning? If I'm outnumbered enough to consider a mad dash into one of them, it will force any foe to face me in smaller numbers in an enclosed environment. Those are odds that favour me."

"Right until they tire you out by sheer force of numbers. Or, if they're Human, throw a fireball at you. Better yet, collapse the tunnel with you inside it. An adolescent Demon of my House could do it without breaking a sweat."

"How long do you think their morale will last, sending in their compatriots by the dozen to get slaughtered, waiting their turn in line to enter the dark hole where none return from. How far do you think the motivation of their superiors will keep them in line?"

Gellron stepped closer, eyes glinting. His hand was reaching towards the metal device hanging around his neck. "I expect them to keep pushing forward, whatever odds may be against them, because it will not be their leader's will pushing them forward, but faith. Faith will keep them moving right until they no longer can. Then they will pass it on to the next person, and from them to the next. With each dead man's passing hand, our faith grows stronger. With the Seven and the One as our witness, it will be done."

He backed away. The light in the Demon's eyes was unnerving. It struck a deeper chord than he'd ever wanted. Against his blade, he would never back down, but against that look in his eyes…

Light, how far would he go for his faith?

How far would I go?

When he turned to Alleria, she was watching the exchange with an unusual expression on her face. Not trepidation or anger, nor even guilt. If anything, it almost looked like-

"Pity? There are many things you are unworthy of feeling towards me, Alleria Elevar, but pity is lowest amongst the low."

She said nothing, and when Danadrian looked down, he saw that her hand wasn't shaking this time. She just kept staring at her brother, at least that was what it looked like. But her eyes were unfocused, and when she blinked and glanced away, he thought she had been seeing something that neither of them could.

"You will die, Gellron. That is the only destination the road you walk has for you. Death."

He growled, "You think we don't know that? We find solace in the fact that for each of us who dies, a thousand of his kind fall beside us. That is what it means to take the pledge, to make the sacrifice some are too weak to make. The sacrifice you and my mother could never stomach."

Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't offer any retort. She just stepped onto the first step that came their way and refused to meet her brother's eyes. His expression flared.

That may well be the worst thing she could have done.

He followed her up the steps that led to the chilled dais, angled so he could still keep an eye on their unwanted companion. Gellron didn't immediately follow them, instead standing with crossed arms at the bottom of the stairs, one hand still fingering that necklace of his. As he had often now, Danadrian wondered what it was for.

The moment he got near the top, the ice burst into a cloud of particles, which were already vanishing by the time they got to them. Alleria swatted away the last of them and shivered. "Chilly. What do you figure that was for?"

He didn't answer. He was focused on what had been encased in the block of ice. A cylindrical platform rose in the centre of the dais, akin to a fancy table of sorts, but with nothing on it.

The only thing that really makes it stand out is its very pointed placement, and the crystal stuck to its base.

He leaned down to inspect said crystal and found it almost identical to the one he'd pocketed, though by following through with the others he'd seen, he would bet gold that both empty crystals would light up in very specific colours the moment they left his radius.

"Do you think the spell will reactivate once I move away from this?"

Alleria bent down with crossed arms to inspect it and shrugged. "Depends.

"On?"

"Depends on whether the spell is linked to the dais or the crystal itself. It could be either or. That wall hasn't come back, so we can only assume that it was linked to the stone itself."

"Or it can't activate because it's lost its source of power."

"Under better circumstances, I would say we should test it, but I'm more worried about where we are right now. I don't see any other exits, if you discount all of those." She gestured to the holes. "Can you remember when the last fork was?"

"Hours away at least." He rubbed the back of his head. "Backtracking like that will cost us precious time, anyway, so-"

He paused. Something had caught his eye. He slowly turned to Alleria and nodded.

"Was that there the whole time?"

Pale, glowing script was appearing across one of the walls, written in the long and flowing characters of the snake-people. Alleria likewise froze and stared at it.

"No."

It continued to appear in its sprawled-out form, in what he assumed was a full sentence. Not that it matters since neither of them could read it.

"What do you think it says?"

"If I were to guess. Important and life-altering information that we definitely need. Why do you think it activated now?"

"When it detected us entering the room." He looked around, but if there were any more hidden spells, they'd be difficult to find. "Actually, it might have started the moment we stepped onto the dais."

"So the moment that you de-activated the ice spell?"

"…It would seem so."

They looked back up at the message, which was still lingering above them. Then, underneath it, a second line began appearing. This one was in a language he recognised, even if he couldn't read it. Athniuthian was written in a tinge of red, and if its size and timing were anything to go by, it had been added on as a later addition to… whatever this was.

"Behold, bearer of Magosian… Jian? – The end of your journey. The final test of this, the Haven of Minao Lang. You who bears the weight of all Zao- Zhao Torag on your shoulders, tail, and mind. Rejoice. Prepare. Wrath and Ruin that was hard to read. What was that supposed to mean- oh, there's more."

A final line appeared, this one written in blood red.

"Prepare."

The ground began shaking, dust and dirt falling from cracks in the roof. The words vanished from the wall, and he felt a distant, but firm tugging on his sword.

"What did you two do?" Gellron stomped up the stairs, sabre already drawn.

Amongst the blue glow of the room, spots caught his eye. Patches of colour that didn't match. Red patches. His eyes widened. "Spells on the roof-"

Tendrils of blood red chains descended on them faster than he could blink. They broke and shattered a metre out from him, but he wasn't the only target.

Multiple descended on Gellron, whose blade hand was moving before he'd even seen where they were coming from. Three latched onto the sabre, but instead of pulling on it, found themselves being pulled, reaching deeper and deeper into its blade until they'd all but vanished. The fourth, though, he couldn't block, and it latched onto his leg. He grunted and swept his blade down to destroy it, but another caught his sword arm in a vice grip.

Danadrian's sword fought against him. It was resisting his grip. It was being pulled, at first firm, but then with force, until his fingers were screaming with pain, and the sweat dripping from his hand proved too much. It slipped and spun out of his grip, flying through the air and off the dais.

The chains of blood had their opening. He dodged the first one, but another caught his arms, then his leg. They latched onto him, not pulling, but with force enough that they felt his entire body crying out.

"Danadrian-"

Alleria was caught as well, her arms being held close to her body by chains, mere inches from drawing her own blade. She was resisting, pushing with such effort against them that her skin was going red. Blue blood was running down her shoulder.

Think, think, think. How do I get out of these? They feel like they're two steps away from ripping my arms off entirely.

His muscles were failing as he flailed helplessly against them. His one free leg was the only thing keeping him upright; the other had been forced down on his knee. His eyes were filling with tears from effort.

That was when he heard a voice.

"Seems you're in a pickle, aren't you? Danadrian, Fallen Angelica- well, I can't be spoiling too much, can I?"

"What- are you?"

"Someone who can help you, and considering your current predicament, you may want to consider my aid. This trail was made for the people who created it, and I have a feeling they were more prepared than you find yourself."

There was something wrong with the voice. It made his heartbeat faster than it already was, made his throat fill with bile, and made his Soul want to recoil.

"You are- evil."

"No, not Evil. I'm certainly not one of his. No, I'm something different entirely. Will you hear me offer?"

He gritted his teeth. Logic said yes. Alleria would say yes, if only to just hear it. His heart?

"Not if you offered me the treasures of the world, monster. Not even then."

"How about your memories, then?"

His resistance to the chains faltered, even as he felt the magic at their tips, the insidious blood and mana preparing to unleash.

"What- they were taken for my crimes. Only by the Goddess' power will they be returned. You are no God."

Alleria was staring at him in confusion, even whilst red corruption spread up her arms, burning her skin.

"Ah. You'd be quite right about that chap, but I'm somewhat close. How about a little teaser, just to show you I mean business."

A Dark force entered his body.

He choked on his own breath. Then he saw it.

. . .

"They're coming from the left flank, get Sapphrina out of there. Danadrian-"

Danadrian stopped flexing one of his arms and turned. "Prince Lathiwein, your forces on the right will meet considerable resistance without support. I recommend a bombardment from our Blazetrailers, which will free up the men you need to reinforce Bannerlady Sapphrina's position."

"I was thinking the same thing." The young Florainian Prince grinned, despite the dirt covering his face and still-wet blood on his armour. None of which was his. "We could use you there as well, if you don't mind me saying."

He shook his head. "I will be in the area of the battle where I am needed most. Until then, I must survey and conserve my strength. As should you."

"This? This is nothing, it's not even daybreak yet, and these fools have launched a full-on assault. Do you think we scared them?"

"A prince and his army vanish into their own forest, only to reappear a hundred leagues behind their borders in a few days. Yes, I do believe you have scared them."

He smirked. "And with an Angelica beside us, no less. You discount your own worth, Danadrian."

He shook his head. "To them, I am just another in a long line of monsters they have to face. My presence on your men is worth more than any fear I strike in them."

His captains and bannermen looked up at that, and he did not miss the way their looks improved and how their backs straightened.

"You're going out there again, then?"

"Yes." He strode towards the edge of their command centre, within a clearing in the trees. His wings rose behind him, their white feathers gleaming in the dim torchlight. "The dawn is coming. It rises to the East. Have your men approach with it at their backs and launch their assault to free the left the moment it does."

Prince Lathiwein nodded and clasped a gauntleted hand to his chest. "May the Light shine gladly on you, Danadrian."

"And may Mayare look favourably on this battle." He mirrored his movements, then crouched his legs and shot into the sky. His wings brought him up into the morning air so fast that in a second the command centre was a distant circle beneath him, and the prince was a small, but bright, spark within it.

"There is a man who will not just be a great king, but a good one too. And may the Light will it so."

He flew across the forest as the Sun inched over the distant horizon. As it did, he felt strength rush to his body, and the assurance of his Goddess likewise fill his Soul. Up here, it was quiet solitude, the sort that other Angelica considered the purest form of life that mortals missed. But beneath, he saw a truth so few of them did. He saw struggle.

Pockets of Humans fighting each other; each group desperately trying to keep the other at bay. Right on time, he saw rays of fire burst through the treeline and arch across the open sky before descending on their targets. Men and women fell, clutching mortal wounds as they choked on their own blood, or screaming out one last time as they were incinerated by a fiery blaze.

But he also saw heroism. He saw brave soldiers holding the line against twice their number, mages throwing back assailants even whilst their mana supplies dwindled dangerously low, and squads rallying behind the prince's banner, the banner of Floraine and House Teraflorus, with a golden sigil beside it.

An army of the Light, the first amongst these Florainians. And it would not be the last.

Finally, he found them. A squad that had followed Bannerlady Sapphrina on the left side of the battlefield, but when the resistance had proved too much, had found themselves cut off from the main host. They were surrounded, outnumbered, and away from their supply lines. And yet no quarter was lost. They were prepared to fight to the bitter end.

He landed beside them with enough force to send dirt flying. They looked at him, stunned as their enemies likewise stalled. He raised his hands and felt the Light come to him, forming four swords in each of his hands.

The dawn rose.

He danced with his blades of Light as they charged him, each falling, clutching burnt wounds across their chests. The Light burned them, burned their eyes as he fell upon them like the Sun itself. The only one to put up real resistance was their captain. He met him with sword and buckler and exchanged blows, blocking his strikes even as they pushed his feet into the dirt below.

Impressive. It seems there is skill amongst these Kurathil.

He dismissed a blade as another met the captain's in a protracted hold. He pushed relentlessly against it, his will never faltering. Right until Danadrian let go of the blade of Light, leaving it hanging in the air, still holding back its iron counterpart. Then he punched him square in the stomach, manifesting a burst of Light that threw him off his feet. He vanished into the treeline.

Their forces backed away, leaving their dead behind. He turned to face the squad of Florainians.

"Who is your captain?"

"Captain Daffendos fell fighting somewhere that way." One of them pointed. "Poor guy didn't even see them coming."

"Who is next in your chain of command?"

"That would be me." The same, surely man who had answered him before said, raising his hand. "First- well, I guess I'm now Captain Aleckus, at your service, Angelica. That's one way to get promoted, I guess."

He gestured with one of his arms. "Bannerlady Sapphrina is being forced back that way, Prince Lathiwein is trying to reinforce her position, but from what I saw, it is rough on this side. Your force has been cut off completely, and my presence amongst you is no doubt being reported as we speak."

Aleckus scratched his bare head. He'd lost his helmet somewhere. "So, that means we're likely to be receiving a royal ton of Kurathil in a few minutes time."

"Correct, which leaves you and your force with two options. Retreat back to the main army while I cover you… or follow me as I move to disrupt their advance."

Aleckus blinked and looked around at his ragtag group, barely holding together as it was. They nodded. He turned back to Danadrian with a grin. "Lead the way then, Angelica, sir."

"Danadrian will suffice."

Already, Kurathil forces were amassing in the distance, barely hidden by the surrounding forest. He flexed his hand again as he stepped forward. Now or never.

A tiny spark of Light rose, not from him, but amassing from the air itself. It was Light. True Light. The purest Light. He raised it above his head, and the world was lit by a second Sun.

"Agh, damn, that is awful. Why did you- get that away from me."

Danadrian blinked. He looked around the dungeon hall. Darkness surrounded them, chains of blood were pulling at them, branding insidious magic onto their skin.

A tiny bead of Light hovered in his hand. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. The Light, his Light, had never looked like this. The closer he looked, the more it seemed to refract the light of the room.

It pulsated, beaming out a radius of Light that shattered the chains holding him down.

"Oh, come off it, that can't be allowed. Not even from one of your kind."

The Dark presence on his mind retreated. The Light in his palm pulsed one last time before it vanished. Just like the memory that had seemed so real, so fresh. He swore he smelt the fire and trees, even now.

He immediately spun toward Alleria, whose struggle against the chains was lessening by the second, as her eyes started to look more and more distant. He drew a blade of Light and slashed them, shattering their bonds to her. She collapsed to the ground, coughing and clawing at her throat.

He ran down the stairs and broke the chains surrounding Gellron, who was still vehemently resisting their pull. When they broke, he caught himself from hitting the ground with one hand, the other using his sword for support.

Danadrian waited for more chains to fly out at them, for another trap to spring or the walls to turn to fire and Darkness, but nothing more came. It was then, and only then, that he let out a breath and wiped his face.

Huh?

His cheeks were wet. He wiped the tear off and stared at it.

"Danadrian?" Alleria struggled to her feet. She grimaced and rubbed her wrists where the skin was raw and torn. "Thank you for… whatever that was. Was that Light Magic? I've never seen you use it like that."

"I…" He stared at his palm, thinking of the strange Light that had manifested there, that he'd manifested in his memory, and somehow brought back into this moment. Or rather, forward. "Yes, it was. Just in the nick of time."

"Maybe a little late, in my opinion." She glared at her wrists, which were already starting to heal. It was a little nauseating to look at, actually, seeing the dead skin flake away and the new, shiny skin replace it in real time. "Gellron?"

"Alive. He blocked a few of them before going down; it was impressive."

The aforementioned Demon didn't thank him for the compliment. He just sheathed his sabre after pulling himself back up and glared at them. "Care to explain what that was? All I heard was you two muttering about some writing right before you almost got us killed."

"It was blood magic, linked to the chains. If we were at their mercy any longer, there might have been more… permanent effects. Curses, akin to your House Slothir, I'm told."

Alleria nodded, and Gellron just grunted darkly. "Of course you have those as well, why am I not surprised? And you two set those off?"

"We think the traps activated the moment we deactivated the ice block that was up here. It also activated that message. That means that they had some way of detecting when we did that and linked it to the activation of the spells." She rubbed the back of her head. "That's… incredibly advanced technology, even if you excluded their bizarre use of lingering spells. And in a set of ruins, this old… definitely has to be pre-Collapse. Danadrian?"

He wasn't fully listening to what she was saying. Instead, he was burning the memory he'd somehow been given back into his brain. Not just a bit of knowledge or skill that he might have had, but a full memory.

Prince Lathiwein of Floraine. Captain Aleckus. I know those names. I know those names.

Having this knowledge felt forbidden. Or maybe it was just in the way it had been given to him. He tried to feel around for that Dark presence who'd tried to negotiate with him, but he either found nothing or couldn't sense it anymore.

"Neither of you… saw anything weird, did you? Besides the chains and magic, of course."

Alleria gave him an odd look and shook her head. "The latter had me a bit preoccupied, but no, there wasn't anything else that stood out to me. Why?"

Gellron's look was a lot more suspicious, but eventually he just jerked his head. "No."

"Right, it was just… it was probably nothing-"

The ground began shaking again. Alleria groaned, "Are you kidding me? Not again."

This time, though, no spells ignited. Instead, the cylinder-like table in the centre of the dais shook, then began to split. Much in the way the statue of Melgos had risen, the table broke apart into distinct quarters as something else rose from beneath it. A cloud of white and green dust, of all things, billowed out and made them all look away. When he looked back and batted away the dust, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

The table had expanded, with its split quarters becoming the end pieces of a much larger surface. Resting on that surface was a scabbard, dark green and covered with engravings. He stepped forward and picked it up. Its texture was strange, it wasn't that of animal skin. It had a strange, scale-like feel to it. As he turned it over to inspect the straps, he saw that the engravings largely feature a single snake, wrapping around the whole scabbard until it began consuming its own tail.

There was writing, etched into the stone centre of the table itself, in the same foreign script that none of them could understand. Thankfully, beneath that was an amendment, written in Athniuthian, which Alleria could translate.

"Bear it well, Champion of the Yserama, Champion of Life. Bear it well, of the Zhao Torag."

Zhao Torag, the message mentioned that as well. Is this… is that what they were called? The Zhao Torag?

He looked around the room, perhaps hoping for another message, another sign; he wasn't really sure. But there was nothing. Nothing but the silence of the ruins, bearing the last will of a dead race into a new Age. What they were, who they had been, and what became of them, scattered to the wind with the sands of time.

He gripped the scabbard tighter. He thought of his memories, once thought lost to him forever, now returned through darker means. He would never condone how they were given back to him, but he would never again forget. Never again. Not like this place, where the memory of everything they had been had vanished completely.

I will never forget.

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