Viking and The Witcher: Year 2 1.3

The caravan moved steadily, the sand shifting under the feet of camels and workers. Thorfinn rode at the front beside Dyabe, the air dry but cooler than he had expected in the early morning. His camel's steady walk had become familiar over the past weeks, though he still felt slightly off balance with every step. He glanced at Dyabe, who looked calm as ever, his eyes fixed on the horizon. They were nearing the end of their journey. Thorfinn could feel it in the way Dyabe carried himself, more focused than usual, though he said little. The rest of the caravan followed in silence, save for the occasional murmurs or the creak of wagons carrying supplies and tools.

"Do you see it yet?" Dyabe asked, his voice breaking the quiet.

Thorfinn scanned the horizon, his sharp eyes picking out shapes in the distance. At first, it was nothing but dunes and the endless expanse of sand. However after they came upon the next rise he saw it—a massive ringed structure that seemed to carve into the earth itself. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, its circular patterns stretching outward in perfect symmetry.

"Incredible..." Thorfinn said, his voice low.

"The Eye of the Sahara," Dyabe said, his tone carrying pride. "The heart of the desert."

As they descended the ridge, the camp surrounding the Eye came into view. Tents stretched out in all directions, a sprawling settlement with thousands of people. Workers moved between scaffolding and pits, their voices blending with the sound of tools striking stone. Smoke from fires rose into the air, and at the center of it all was the dig site itself—massive, with workers disappearing into the ground and through caverns they dug. .

Thorfinn's jaw tightened as he took it all in. "You've been busy."

"Years of preparation, months of work," Dyabe replied. "And we are just beginning."

Thorfinn said nothing, his eyes drawn to the dig site. He could see teams of men and women hauling stone slabs, some of them carved with unfamiliar markings. The scale of the operation was overwhelming, even to someone like him who had travelled more than most. They reached the edge of the camp, where a group of workers waited to greet them. Dyabe dismounted, handing his reins to an attendant. Thorfinn followed, his legs stiff from the ride. He looked around, noting the stares from the workers. His pale skin and white hair stood out even more here than they had in the caravan.

"They think you're a spirit," Dyabe said with a small chuckle. "An otherworldly presence among mortals."

Thorfinn ignored the comment, his focus on the camp. He spotted scholars bent over tables covered in scrolls and clay tablets, their voices heated as they debated. Nearby, a group of guards stood watch over a wagon filled with tools and supplies.

"Follow me," Dyabe said, leading him through the camp.

Thorfinn glanced back briefly. He could see Arwyn further down the line, her camel led by one of the workers. She looked as out of place as he did, her pale features stark against the sea of dark-skinned workers. She met his gaze briefly, giving him a nod, before her attention turned back to the caravan behind her. As they walked through the camp, Thorfinn noticed a massive stone slab being hauled out of the ground. Workers strained against ropes and pulleys, their muscles taut as they lifted the heavy object. It was covered in strange carvings, the symbols intricate and unfamiliar.

Dyabe noticed his interest. "That's one of many. Each piece tells a story if you know how to read it."

Thorfinn frowned. "And do you?"

"Not entirely," Dyabe admitted. "That's why I have scholars. But even they struggle. The language is old, similar to the first language but with some differences."

They continued toward the center of the camp, where the largest tent stood. Workers moved aside as Dyabe passed, their heads bowing slightly in respect. Thorfinn followed, his thoughts racing. Whatever lay beneath the Eye, it was clear that Dyabe believed it held answers—answers Thorfinn wasn't sure he wanted. If Eden was real what would it mean, he knew the gods existed, his gods existed. He also couldn't disregard the sign he had seen in Bebbenburg. What would it mean for both faiths to be right.

As they reached the tent, Dyabe stopped, turning to Thorfinn. "This is where we rest and plan. You'll find everything you need here."

Thorfinn nodded, then Dyabe placed a hand on Thorfinn's shoulder. "Come. There is much to discuss."

Dyabe led Thorfinn to a larger m tent set apart from the others. As they entered, Thorfinn noticed a table at the center covered with objects he didn't recognize. Strange devices made of polished metals, some gleaming even under the muted light. Others were translucent, like glass, with intricate designs running through them. Thin metal and tubes coiled around each other in patterns that looked deliberate but served no purpose he could guess.

Dyabe gestured to the table, his voice calm but tinged with excitement. "These are a few of the things we've unearthed. Tools, machines, remnants of something far beyond what we understand."

Thorfinn picked up a small device that fit easily in his palm. It was light, cool to the touch, and emitted a faint hum as he turned it over. "What does it do?" he asked.

Dyabe shook his head. "We don't know. None of this makes sense to us. Look at this." He reached for a curved piece of metal and set it on the table. "This piece? It doesn't rust. It doesn't bend under pressure. My scholars think it's an alloy, but not one we can replicate. It's as if these people mastered techniques we've barely begun to imagine."

Thorfinn placed the device back on the table, his fingers brushing over another object. It was a smooth orb, partially transparent, with what looked like a liquid swirling inside. "And this?"

Dyabe smiled. "We call it the Eye. It reacts to heat, light, and even touch, but beyond that? It's a mystery. My scholars say it's likely decorative, yet I doubt that."

Thorfinn frowned, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "It's strange. This isn't like anything I've seen."

"Nor I," Dyabe admitted. He stepped back, folding his arms. "Imagine a civilization capable of creating these things. A people who lived long before us, yet thrived in ways we can't comprehend. If this is what they left behind, what does that say about us?"

Before Thorfinn could answer, Dyabe turned to one of the servants standing by the tent's entrance. "Summon the foremen. I want a report on the dig."

The servant nodded and left swiftly. Dyabe returned his focus to the artifacts, his hand tracing the edge of the strange orb. Thorfinn stood silently, his thoughts swirling. The objects were unnerving in their complexity. They made him feel small, as if all he had ever learned was insignificant compared to the people who had once created these things.

Moments later, the tent flap opened, and three men stepped inside. Their clothes were stained with dirt, and they looked hot and exhausted. They bowed their heads briefly before standing at attention.

Dyabe motioned for them to speak. "What progress have you made?"

One of the foremen stepped forward, his voice steady. "We've reached a structure, Your Grace. It's unlike anything we've encountered before. The material—it's... impervious. Our pickaxes and tools barely scratch it, and when they do, the damage is minimal."

"How close are you to breaking through?" Dyabe asked, his tone calm yet commanding.

The foreman hesitated. "We're close, but it's slow work. The tools wear down faster than usual, we estimate another day, maybe two, before we can create an opening."

Dyabe's face lit with satisfaction. "Good. I want to be there when you break through. Send for me the moment it happens."

One of the foremen shifted uncomfortably. "Your Grace, with respect, it may not be safe. We don't know what's inside. It could be unstable, or worse."

Dyabe raised a hand, silencing him. His tone remained steady, but there was no room for argument. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be there. I've waited too long for this moment to stay behind now."

He turned to Thorfinn. "Will you join me?"

Thorfinn nodded without hesitation. "Of course. I'm just as interested as you."

Dyabe smiled. "Then it's settled. Go back to your work," he said, dismissing the foremen. The men bowed again before leaving the tent. As the flap closed behind them, Dyabe exhaled and glanced at Thorfinn. "We stand on the edge of discovery, my friend. Whatever lies within that structure will change everything."

Dyabe looked at Thorfinn, his expression calm. "You should rest," he said, placing a hand lightly on the table. "Tomorrow will be eventful, and you'll need your strength."

Thorfinn frowned slightly, his thoughts still on the artifacts spread before them. "I've been through worse without sleep."

Dyabe chuckled quietly. "Perhaps, but this isn't a battlefield. What lies ahead requires clarity, not just strength. Take my advice—rest."

Thorfinn met his gaze for a moment before nodding. "Fine. I'll take your advice."

Dyabe gave a slight nod of approval. "Good. My servants will ensure you're undisturbed." He motioned toward the tent's entrance. "You'll find your way back, I'm sure."

Thorfinn left the tent, the cool night air much more bwreable than the heat of the day. The camp was quiet, the distant hum of workers faint now as they all settled in. As he walked toward his own tent, his mind turned to the dig site. The artifacts they'd uncovered were unlike anything he had ever seen, and the thought of what might be inside the structure left an excitement in his chest that he hadn't felt since discovering the library in Bebbenburg.

When he reached the tent, Arwyn was already lying on her side, her back to the entrance. She didn't stir as he stepped inside. Thorfinn lay down on the bedding, his hands resting on his stomach. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking.

"Tomorrow, we'll likely go into the structure they've found."

Arwyn shifted slightly on her side, her back to him. After a moment, she turned to face him, her expression neutral. "How long is this going to go on?" she asked. "When do we start making our way to Constantinople? Geralt won't wait forever."

Thorfinn exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. "We'll leave soon," he said. "I'll ask Dyabe for a guide."

"And if he says no?" she asked.

"He won't," Thorfinn said. "I'll make sure of it. I just want to see this through first."

Arwyn nodded faintly but didn't say anything else. She turned back onto her side, pulling the blanket closer to her. Thorfinn lay quietly for a moment, then spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about what happened a week ago?"

Arwyn tensed for a moment. "No," she said plainly.

Thorfinn didn't reply. He lay still, staring up at the ceiling, before closing his eyes. The silence in the tent lingered until sleep came for them both.

...

The next morning, Thorfinn woke early as light began to fill the tent. He sat up and glanced toward Arwyn. She lay on her side, her back to him, the blanket covering her shoulders. He stood and dressed, pulling on his gear . The camp was already moving when he stepped outside. Workers carried supplies and tools, preparing for the day ahead. Thorfinn walked toward Dyabe's tent. The guards standing outside watched him but said nothing. He stopped as a servant stepped inside to announce his arrival.

Dyabe sat cross-legged on a cushioned mat, a tray of food laid out before him—flatbreads, fruits, and a pot of steaming tea. He waved Thorfinn over.

"Come, eat. We have a long day ahead," Dyabe said, pouring tea into a small clay cup and handing it to him.

Thorfinn sat down and took the cup, the scent of spices hitting him. He sipped it, nodding slightly in approval. He reached for a piece of flatbread and began eating, his eyes scanning the tent briefly.

"Have they broken through yet," Thorfinn asked between bites.

Dyabe nodded. "They're close. In a few hours, we'll break through." He paused, studying Thorfinn. "You seem restless."

Thorfinn looked up. "I wanted to speak with you about something."

Dyabe gestured for him to continue, chewing on a date.

"I need supplies and a guide to Constantinople," Thorfinn said. "We've stayed longer than we planned. There are people waiting for us."

Dyabe's expression shifted, the easy warmth replaced by something more thoughtful. He set his food down and leaned back slightly. "You've been good company, Thorfinn. It's rare to find someone I can have these conversations with. I had hoped you'd stay longer."

Thorfinn considered his words, nodding slightly. "I've enjoyed our talks too. You've taught me things I never thought I'd learn. I'll carry that with me. But we have a purpose, and people depending on us."

Dyabe sighed, picking up his tea and swirling it slowly. "You're a man of duty. I respect that. Still, there's more to see here, more to understand."

Thorfinn leaned forward slightly. "I'm curious about this place too, but our journey can't wait forever. Arwyn and I have someone we need to find."

Dyabe chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're as stubborn as you are sharp. I can't fault you for that." He motioned to one of the attendants standing nearby. "Make sure Thorfinn and his wife are provided with everything they need for their journey. The best guide, the best supplies."

The servant nodded and left the tent. Dyabe turned his gaze back to Thorfinn. "When will you leave?"

"Soon. After we see what's beneath that structure," Thorfinn replied.

Dyabe smiled faintly. "Then let's make today count. Once you leave, I suspect it will be a long time before I meet another like you."

Thorfinn smirked slightly. "If your people keep digging up ancient cities, I'm sure you'll find someone even more curious than me."

Dyabe laughed. "Perhaps. Though I doubt they'll be as blunt."

The two finished their meal, the conversation lightening. By the time they stood to leave, Thorfinn felt a strange sense of finality settling over him. As they walked out of the tent and into the sunlight, Dyabe clapped him on the shoulder.

"Let's uncover history today, my friend," Dyabe said.

Thorfinn nodded. "Let's."

The two fo them moved toward the dig site, the morning sun high above. Thorfinn walked beside Dyabe, both of them silent for a time. Though around halfway Sira and Arwyn caught up, their robes brushing the dusty ground.

"I couldn't stay behind," Sira sai. "I'm as interested in this as you are, Father."

Dyabe chuckled, glancing back at her. "You've always been curious. Perhaps too curious at times."

Thorfinn smirked faintly, glancing over his shoulder. "A good trait to have."

Sira smiled at him, her eyes looking his body up and down. Arwyn stayed quiet, her gaze shifting between the workers ahead and the towering dunes in the distance. The dig site loomed closer, an expanse of sand and exposed rock carved deep into the earth. Dozens of workers moved about, hammering, hauling, and shouting commands to one another.

As they reached the edge of the site, Dyabe gestured for everyone to stop. "This entire area used to be buried beneath the sand," he said, his voice steady. "Many months of digging, scraping, and searching have uncovered this. What you see now is just the surface."

Thorfinn peered down into the excavation. The pit stretched far below, its walls jagged and uneven, carved by months of relentless labor. Workers swarmed around a massive structure embedded in the earth. The surface was smooth, stone, and unlike anything Thorfinn had seen before.

Dyabe's excitement was clear as he descended a wooden platform leading to the bottom. Thorfinn followed, his boots kicking up loose dirt. The sound of hammers striking stone grew louder as they approached the workers clustered around the structure.

Dyabe turned to Sira before they reached the bottom. "Stay back," he told her firmly. "It's dangerous here."

Sira frowned but nodded. "Be careful," she said.

Thorfinn glanced at Arwyn, who stood beside Sira. "Watch her," he muttered to Arwyn, who gave him a small nod.

At the base, Dyabe strode forward, his robes trailing behind him. He called for the foreman, a grizzled man covered in dust. "How long?" Dyabe asked, his tone commanding.

The foreman wiped his brow with a cloth. "Not long now," he said. "The surface is starting to give. Just a few more strikes."

Dyabe's eyes lit up, and he turned to Thorfinn. "We're close."

Thorfinn clapped him on the shoulder. "Why don't we join them?" he said. "It feels fitting."

Dyabe grinned, his usual composure giving way to pure enthusiasm. "A fine idea." He barked an order to the workers, who quickly handed over two pickaxes.

The two men joined the group, Dyabe was a big man and he was strong, his strikes reflected that. The stone surface groaned under the assault, reverberating through the pit. Dyabe's excitement grew with each swing. "We're breaking through," he said, his voice almost a shout. The foreman called for the workers to step back as the final strikes landed. Thorfinn and Dyabe pulled back, both catching their breath. The structure gave a low creak before a section of the surface buckled inward.

The groan of stone was followed by a deafening crash. The ground beneath them shifted suddenly, collapsing as a massive cavern revealed itself below. Workers screamed as the edge of the pit crumbled. Several men fell, their cries silenced as they disappeared into the darkness. Thorfinn acted without thinking, leaping toward Dyabe and tackling him to the ground as the edge gave way beneath their feet. They landed hard, the impact jarring. Dust and debris filled the air.

Dyabe coughed, pushing himself up. "Thorfinn," he said, his voice unsteady. "You saved me, thank you."

Thorfinn grunted, brushing dirt from his tunic. "You're welcome," he said with a chuckle.

The two men moved cautiously to the edge, peering into the cavern below. Dyabe's breath caught in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The cavern was vast, its size insane, the structure they'd just broken through seemed to be a massive dome that covered what look like an entire city. Structures stretched out in every direction, their shapes broken and jagged. Metallic towers lay toppled, bridges crumbled, and pathways twisted like mazes. Strange lights flickered faintly in the darkness.

Dyabe's voice was barely a whisper. "The city..." he said. "It's here."

Thorfinn narrowed his eyes, scanning the ruins. "This is it?"

Dyabe didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the city below, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. Finally, he spoke. "The Second City," he said. "Atlantis."

The foreman and workers stood in stunned silence, their faces pale as they stared into the depths. Sira and Arwyn approached cautiously, their eyes widening as they took in the scene.

Thorfinn exhaled slowly. "So this is what you've been digging for, what will lead you to Eden."

Dyabe nodded, his hand gripping Thorfinn's arm. "This is only the beginning," he said. "We've found it. And now, we will uncover its secrets." Dyabe straightened, brushing the dust off his robes. His voice cut through the stunned silence. "Lower ropes immediately. Construct a way down. Begin building a base camp in the cavern. I want it done quickly."

The foreman snapped out of his daze and began barking orders to the workers. Men scrambled to gather supplies, ropes, and pulleys while others moved debris away from the edges of the pit. A flurry of activity erupted as Dyabe turned to Sira, who had rushed closer.

"Father, are you hurt?" Sira's voice trembled slightly as she placed a hand on his arm, her eyes scanning him for any sign of injury.

Dyabe smiled, his usual calm demeanor returning. "Do not worry, my daughter. I am unharmed, thanks to our Northman here."

Sira's gaze flicked to Thorfinn, who was leaning against a rock, dusting off his tunic. She offered him a small smile. "You saved him."

Thorfinn grunted, shrugging off her gratitude. "Wasn't going to let him fall."

Sira nodded but kept her focus on her father. "You should still rest. That collapse could have killed you."

Dyabe shook his head. "There is no time to rest. We have found something extraordinary. I must see it for myself."

Sira frowned but didn't argue, stepping back as Dyabe turned his attention back to the workers.

Arwyn approached Thorfinn, her expression unreadable. "You all right?" she asked, her tone neutral.

Thorfinn glanced at her, noticing the way she kept her distance. "Fine," he said simply, brushing more dirt from his arms.

She nodded curtly, her eyes flicking over him quickly before stepping back. "Good," was all she said before moving to stand closer to Sira. Thorfinn watched her for a moment, frowning slightly at her coldness, but he said nothing. His attention turned back to the workers as they began lowering ropes into the cavern. Dyabe walked to the edge, peering down at the ruins below.

"You still plan to go down there today?" Thorfinn asked, stepping beside him.

Dyabe nodded. "Of course. What lies below could reshape our understanding of everything. It is my duty... no my destiny to see it through."

"I thought perhaps we would find a structure or two, but to see a whole city preserved like this under the stand, its trly incredible," Dyabe said as he continued to stare down into the cavern.

Sira crossed her arms, looking down into the massive cavern. "Father are you sure? You don't even know what's down there."

"That is precisely why we must go," Dyabe said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He then looked over to Thorfinn, "MY Friend tell me are you not curious."

Thorfinn didn't respond immediately, his gaze lingering on the city below. Before a smile broke out on his face. "Curious enough," he admitted finally.

Dyabe's expression grew serious. "You've already risked your life once for this. If you do not wish to go further, I won't force you."

Thorfinn scoffed lightly. "I'll go. I didn't come all this way to stand at the edge."

Dyabe clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. I wouldn't want to do this without you."

As the ropes were secured and a crude pulley system assembled, the workers began lowering the first of the supplies into the cavern. Dyabe turned to his foreman. "Ensure everything is stabilized. I will not risk another collapse."

The foreman nodded, moving to oversee the preparations.

Sira approached her father again, her brow furrowed. "Do you need to go down there yourself?" She asked.

Dyabe looked at her, his expression softening. "This is what I've worked for, Sira. I cannot stay behind."

She hesitated, then sighed. "Just be careful."

He smiled at her. "Always."

Arwyn stayed back, watching the exchange before glancing at Thorfinn. He met her gaze briefly, but she turned away before either could say anything. Thorfinn exhaled quietly, his focus returning to the people around him. He wanted to talk to Arwyn about the night they shared; he'd even asked her multiple times, but she didn't want to hear of it, as if she wanted to forget it ever happened. It was a shame—he did care for Arwyn, even if she didn't return the same feelings.

The sun passed the peak of its height by the time the platform with the pulleys was ready. Dyabe insisted they be the first ones down. Thorfinn, Dyabe, and two of his personal guards stepped onto the platform. It was shaky, though Dyabe assured them that the wood was strong. That did little to reassure Thorfinn, given the long drop below. If the platform gave way, the sharp rocks on the cavern floor would reduce him to a smear.

"Are you ready, my friend?" Dyabe asked, squeezing Thorfinn's shoulder.

"Let's go," Thorfinn replied with a faint smile. At Dyabe's signal, the workers began lowering the platform into the cavern. Thorfinn glanced upward, catching sight of Arwyn. She stood at the edge of the site, arms crossed, her expression tense with worry. He offered her a brief smile, trying to reassure her, before turning his focus forward.

As they descended, the air grew colder. A shiver ran up Thorfinn's spine. The chill felt unnatural, a sharp contrast to the desert heat above. Even the coldest nights in Kattegat hadn't felt like this. Dyabe and his guards felt it too, rubbing their arms and shifting uncomfortably as their breaths turned to mist.

"Such a chill," Dyabe muttered, his voice carrying a note of surprise as he exhaled into the frosty air.

Thorfinn frowned, flexing his fingers to keep them moving. The cold wasn't the only thing that made him uneasy. There was something here, something he couldn't see but could feel. A deep, steady thrumming in his chest that felt like a warning. He kept his thoughts to himself, glancing toward Dyabe, who seemed oblivious to anything but the city below. Thorfinn's mind turned to the dome itself. It was an engineering marvel beyond anything he'd ever seen. He wondered why it was built—was it meant to shield the city from the sun? Or was it a tomb, sealing something away? Either way, the craftsmanship was astounding. The people who built this place must have been unmatched in their mastery of stonework, surpassing even the Romans.

"I can feel it, my friend," Dyabe said, gripping Thorfinn's arm.

Thorfinn turned to him. Dyabe's face was alight with a mix of joy and sadness.

Thorfinn's brow furrowed. "Are you well?"

Dyabe nodded, though his eyes brimmed with tears. "I feared my life would lack meaning. That the void in my heart would never be filled. That I would be remembered as a lesser son of greater forebears."

Dyabe's voice softened as he looked at the city below. "I feared this was all for nothing. That I would be remembered as Dyabe the Foolish."

Thorfinn stayed silent, letting Dyabe speak.

"But we are here," Dyabe said, his tone firm now. "And I will be remembered as the Ghana who brought his people to God."

Thorfinn gave a slight nod. He was glad for Dyabe's success, but he couldn't share his excitement. The gods had their own ways of revealing themselves, and Thorfinn saw no reason to chase after them—especially not a foreign god he knew nothing about. The platform jolted slightly as it hit the ground. Thorfinn steadied himself before stepping off, following Dyabe and the two guards. Dyabe paused, his gaze sweeping over the city as he stepped onto the ancient stone floor.

"No man has stepped in this city for ten thousand years," Dyabe said quietly.

Thorfinn joined him, his boots echoing faintly on the stone. He glanced around, taking in the surroundings. The city was vast, its buildings towering and unfamiliar to anything he'd ever seen. They were made of a dark, polished material that gleamed faintly in the cold light. Some structures had sharp, angular designs, while others were curved and smooth. Openings that might have been windows lined the walls, though they were empty, with no sign of coverings. The streets were wide and paved with hexagonal stones that fit together perfectly, with no cracks or signs of wear despite the passage of time. In the distance, a massive tower loomed, its base wide and its height disappearing into the shadows of the dome above.

Dyabe moved forward as he took it all in. Thorfinn stayed close, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The guards followed behind, their eyes darting nervously. Throfinn wondered if they could feel the wrongness of this place as he could.

Dyabe exhaled deeply. "It is more magnificent than I imagined," he said, almost to himself.

Thorfinn didn't respond. His gaze was drawn to the symbols carved into the buildings. They were intricate, forming patterns that seemed to move if he stared too long. That thrumming feeling was stronger now, deep in his chest. It felt like the city itself was alive, watching them. Dyabe stopped and turned to Thorfinn, his expression calm but full of purpose. "This is only the beginning," he said. "There is so much more to uncover." Dyabe pulled sharply on the rope of the platform, the signal for the men above to begin pulling it back up. "Now they can start bringing the others down," he said. "We'll establish a base here." He turned toward Thorfinn, his eyes gleaming. "We may have found Atlantis, but our true destination is Enoch. And to reach it, we'll need to dig deeper."

Thorfinn said nothing, glancing around at the massive cavern. His unease hadn't faded, but he followed Dyabe's lead as the man walked toward one of the wide streets stretching into the heart of the city. Behind them, the guards exchanged looks of concern. One of them stepped forward. "My Ghana, it could be unsafe. We don't know what's down here. Let us investigate first."

Dyabe turned back to the guard with a wide grin. "Unsafe?" He gestured to the city around them. "I've survived coming this far, have I not? Do you think god would let me die now, so close to the truth? No he has lead me here, he waits for me to greet him." He waved them off dismissively. "Stay here and focus on making camp. Prepare for the others. Thorfinn and I will explore the city."

"My Ghana, please—" one of the guards started, but Dyabe cut him off with a laugh.

"I appreciate your concern, but I am not a child in need of coddling." He clapped Thorfinn on the back. "Let's go, my friend."

Thorfinn gave the guards a brief glance but said nothing, following Dyabe as he began striding down the wide street. The city seemed endless. Towering buildings flanked them, their surfaces polished and reflective. Dyabe reached out and ran his fingers over one of the walls as they passed, marveling at the smooth, cold material. "What kind of stone is this?" he mused aloud. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen."

"It's not natural," Thorfinn said, his voice low. He didn't like how the surface seemed to shimmer when touched, almost as if it reacted to them. He wanted to feel excited to be in a place such as this, such an advanced and ancient city. But in truth he couldn't help the feeling of dread that seemed to build the further they went into the city.

Dyabe's pace slowed as they neared a central plaza. In the middle of the open space stood a massive obelisk, its surface etched with symbols similar to those on the walls. Dyabe approached it, his eyes wide with wonder. "Do you see this?" he asked, running his hand over the carvings. Thorfinn stayed a few paces back, his gaze scanning their surroundings. Something about this place felt too perfect, too untouched. It was as if time had stopped here, preserving it in a way that didn't seem natural.

Dyabe turned back to him, his excitement undiminished. "Can you feel it, Thorfinn?."

Thorfinn shook his head slightly. "I feel something, I wouldn't say it was good," he commented.

Dyabe laughed. "You are too cautious, my friend. This is a place of wonders, not dangers."

Thorfinn didn't argue. He kept his hand near the hilt of his sword as they continued deeper into the city, the obelisk fading behind them. Dyabe pressed forward his eyes darting from building to building, taking in every detail. They came to a halt at the edge of another wide street, where several smaller paths branched off. "Let's split up," Dyabe said. "Cover more ground. We'll meet back at camp before the sun sets."

Thorfinn frowned but nodded, letting his hand fall away from the hilt of his sword. "I don't think that's wise."

Dyabe laughed, a broad grin splitting his face. "Thorfinn, this place has been sealed for ten thousand years. There is nothing down here but us. Now stop worrying and enjoy this beautiful city with me." He gave Thorfinn a final pat on the shoulder before turning and heading down a nearby street.

Thorfinn watched him disappear before sighing and heading off in the opposite direction. Dyabe's confidence was reassuring, but Thorfinn couldn't shake the unease that lingered in his gut. He pushed the feeling aside and focused on the structures around him. For hours, he explored the ruins, moving through streets that seemed to stretch endlessly. Many of the buildings were crumbling, their walls scorched or cracked, but others remained almost pristine. Thorfinn stepped into one of the smaller structures and found strange objects scattered across the floors. There were metal tools that glinted unnaturally even in the dim light, glass containers filled with long-dried substances, and shards of something that resembled crystal. One shard pulsed faintly when he picked it up, but the light faded quickly. He turned it over in his hand, trying to make sense of it before slipping it into his pack.

Further down the road, he found a larger building, its entrance flanked by carved pillars. It stood taller than the others and was adorned with intricate designs that wrapped around its walls like vines. The interior was expansive, with high ceilings and carvings etched into the stone above. Thorfinn moved cautiously through the space, running his fingers over the carvings as he passed. A glint caught his eye. Embedded into one of the walls was a crystal similar to the one he'd seen in Dyabe's camp above ground. This one was larger, with jagged edges that shimmered faintly in the low light. Thorfinn reached out and touched it, and the moment his hand made contact he felt magic drain out of him the same way it did when he cast a spell, and a pulse ran through the room. He stepped back quickly as blue lines spread outward from the crystal, tracing the carvings on the walls and ceiling. The air around him began to warm, chasing away the chill that had clung to his skin since entering the cavern.

Thorfinn stared at the glowing lines, his confusion mounting. He'd never seen anything like it. The room, once frigid, now felt comfortably warm. Shaking his head, he moved further into the building, searching for anything else of interest. In what appeared to be a personal chamber, Thorfinn found two books lying on a low stone table. Their covers were made of a material he didn't recognize, and the pages inside were covered in symbols he couldn't read. He recognized the language from some of Dyabe's artifacts and slid the books into his pack. He couldn't read them now, but he'd learned languages before. He could learn this one, too.

On the top floor, Thorfinn entered what looked like a library. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and scrolls. Most were decayed beyond recognition, but one immediately caught his attention. It sat inside a glass case, its cover gleaming gold. Thorfinn broke the case open with the hilt of his sword and pulled the book free. Its cover was solid gold, and the pages inside were lined with golden writing. He traced the edges of the pages with his fingers, knowing instantly that this was something Dyabe would want. He slipped the book into his pack. It was his now, and he'd fight anyone who said otherwise.

Before leaving, his eyes landed on a shield mounted above what appeared to be a fireplace. It was round and simple, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. Thorfinn reached up and pulled it down. It was lighter than it looked, almost weightless in his hands. He frowned and struck it with the hilt of his sword. The shield didn't dent or scratch. He hit it again, harder this time, but the material held firm. At first he thought it was too light to be functional and that it was a mere decorative piece, but he was wrong. Thorfinn grinned, testing its surface once more. He didn't know what this material was, but it was unlike anything he'd encountered before. If it could be replicated, it would be invaluable. He turned the shield over and noticed a small button on the handle. Pressing it, he nearly jumped as the shield folded in on itself until it was no larger than his wrist. He stared at it, fascinated, before sliding it into his pack.

Satisfied with his findings, Thorfinn left the building and stepped back onto the street. The distant sounds of shouting and talking reached his ears, likely the workers and soldiers setting up camp. He had spent hours exploring, and the day was slipping away. It was time to find Dyabe. He didn't trust leaving the man alone down here, regardless of the lack of immediate danger. Thorfinn moved quickly through the ruins, his voice echoing as he called out, "Dyabe!" The cavern seemed to swallow his words, and he clenched his fists in frustration. The man could be anywhere, and the sprawling city didn't make the search any easier.

He turned a corner and nearly collided with a group of Dyabe's guards, a dozen of them armed and alert. One of them stepped forward. "Where is the Dinga?" he asked in Soninke.

"We split up," Thorfinn replied evenly. "I'm looking for him now."

The guard frowned, clearly displeased. "He should not wander alone. It is dangerous here."

Thorfinn didn't argue. "Keep searching. I'll keep looking on my end."

The guards exchanged glances but continued on, their boots echoing as they moved down the street. Thorfinn exhaled through his nose and pressed forward. He climbed the steps of a nearby building, heading toward the balcony to get a better view. Once at the top, he leaned on the edge, scanning the vast city below. Hundreds of people were now gathered at the entrance point, setting up a large camp. Soldiers spread out into the city, moving in groups as they scoured the ruins, likely searching for Dyabe.

Seeing the effort being made, Thorfinn felt confident they would find the Dinga soon enough. Turning his attention to the largest structure in the distance, he decided to explore it. The building towered above the others, it must've been where the king resided, he could think of no other explanation. Making his way through the streets, he approached the enormous steps leading up to the structure. Each step was wide enough to fit a dozen men standing side by side. He climbed steadily, his boots thudding against the stone. At the top was a vast plateau, leading to a pair of doors that dwarfed anything he had seen before. They stood twice the height of the great oak tree in Kattegat, imposing and silent.

Thorfinn pushed the doors open with great effort, their weight resisting him until they creaked loudly, revealing the interior. The inside was breathtaking. Columns stretched high into the darkness, carved from smooth stone that seemed to shimmer faintly. Platforms and walkways connected various parts of the vast room, suspended over an open space below. Strange mechanisms lined the walls, their purposes beyond his understanding. He stepped further inside, his boots clicking against the floor. The air was warmer here, the chill of the cavern less intense. Looking around, he spotted a grand staircase in the center of the room. Unlike most staircases he'd seen, this one spiraled downward into the depths. Thorfinn adjusted his pack and began his descent, the sound of his footsteps growing fainter as he went deeper.

The staircase opened into a massive room. Pipes, both large and small, crisscrossed the space like veins, their metallic surfaces gleaming in the dim light. Large crystals floated in specific intervals, rotating slowly and thrumming with energy. In the center was a curved structure, a strange metal table covered with lights and buttons that blinked intermittently.

"Thorfinn!" Dyabe's voice called from across the room. He was standing near the metal table, waving him over. Thorfinn approached, taking in the scene with growing curiosity.

"What is this place?" Thorfinn asked, his eyes moving across the pipes and crystals.

Dyabe shook his head, his expression a mix of awe and determination. "I do not know," he admitted. "But It seems important, perhaps an observatory? Do you see the crystals embedded in the ceiling, perhaps they are the stars? In truth this is so foreign to me I'm not quite sure what to make of it."

He turned his attention to the table, running his hands over its smooth surface. The lights blinked rhythmically, but nothing happened when Dyabe pressed them. "These look important, but they do not respond to my touch," he muttered.

Thorfinn stepped closer, resting his hand absently on the table. The moment his skin made contact, he felt a sharp, overwhelming pull, like his very essence was being drained. He fell to one knee, his breath catching as the energy surged through him. The intensity was unlike anything he'd felt before, leaving him cold and weak. His magic reserves were nearly halved in an instant, the loss disorienting.

"Thorfinn!" Dyabe moved toward him, but stopped when the room began to creak. The pipes groaned, crystals began spinning faster, and light flooded the space as mechanisms roared to life. The torches they'd carried were now irrelevant; the room was brighter than the midday sun.

Dyabe's voice rose above the noise. "What is happening?"

Thorfinn pushed himself back to his feet, steadying himself against the table. The crystals above them pulsed, their light spreading through the pipes, illuminating more of the space. The ground shuddered again, the vibrations almost knocking Thorfinn off balance. He steadied himself and looked toward Dyabe, who was standing just a few feet away, completely fixated on the massive sarcophagus that was now emerging out of the ground in the centre of the room.

Thorfinn moved closer, before his focus shifted to the distant shouts echoing through the cavern. Something was happening outside, and every instinct he had told him they needed to leave. "Dyabe," he said, stepping forward and grabbing the man's arm. "We have to go. Something's wrong up there."

Dyabe didn't even turn to look at him. "Go if you wish, Thorfinn. I'm staying. I need to open this, this could be what I've been looking for."

"This can wait," Thorfinn said, his grip tightening. "Whatever's happening outside might not. We need to regroup and figure out what's going on."

Dyabe pulled his arm free, his gaze never leaving the sarcophagus. "Leave if you're afraid. I won't abandon this now."

Thorfinn clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting. He stared at Dyabe for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. "Fine," he muttered, turning on his heel and heading toward the stairs. "Stubborn fool," he growled under his breath.

The building groaned around him as he ascended the staircase. Each step felt heavier as the vibrations intensified, sending dust and small debris tumbling from the ceiling. Lights flickered erratically, casting disorienting shadows across the walls. Thorfinn gritted his teeth and pressed on, his hand trailing along the stone wall for balance. By the time he reached the main atrium, the shaking had grown worse. He stopped briefly, glancing at the glowing lights embedded in the walls. They pulsed unevenly, as if the entire structure were alive and struggling to stabilize itself. He pushed through the massive doors, stepping outside just in time to witness a battle.

The scene before him was unlike anything he had ever seen. Dyabe's men were scattered across the stone streets, engaged in battle against creatures that defied explanation. The spider-like beings moved on metal legs, their sleek bodies covered in dust. They scuttled with inhuman speed, lashing out with sharp appendages that tore through armor like it was paper. Spherical machines rolled smoothly across the ground before unfolding to reveal blades that spun and beheaded two men at once.

Thorfinn's eyes narrowed as he took in the carnage. 'By the gods,' he thought, watching as one of the creatures impaled a soldier before flinging him aside. Despite the overwhelming number of soldiers, the metallic creatures were holding their ground. Blood pooled across the stone floor; Thorfinn noticed something strange about it though as it seemed to sink into the floor and be absorbed into the ground.

Snapping out of it Thorfinn sprinted down the steps, his quake ability gathering in his palm as he charged one of the spider-like machines. With a shout, he slammed the white sphere of energy into its body. The impact crushed the creature, sending pieces of metal scattering across the ground. He stepped back, his breathing heavy as he stared at the destroyed being. There was no blood, no sign of life. "What manner of creature is this?" he muttered.

The soldiers around him were in complete disarray. Some fought valiantly, their weapons clanging uselessly against the machines, while others dropped their weapons and fled. Thorfinn's frustration boiled over, and he turned toward the panicking men.

"Hold the line!" he roared, his voice cutting through thebattle. "Keep fighting! They can be destroyed!"

...

Dyabe stepped closer to the sarcophagus, his movements slow, his eyes locked on the ancient structure. Whispers seemed to drift through the air, faint and distant at first but growing louder as he approached. The words were unfamiliar, yet they felt like they were meant for him, pulling him forward. His hand trembled as he reached out, his mind unable to resist the invisible pull.

His fingers hovered over a faint marking near the center of the sarcophagus, barely visible against the worn surface. The whispers grew insistent, almost like a chant. As though in a trance, Dyabe pressed his palm against the mark.

The reaction was instant. A spike shot out from the marking, piercing his hand. Dyabe screamed, stumbling backward and clutching his bleeding palm. The crimson liquid seeped into the grooves of the sarcophagus, vanishing as if the stone drank it. The room trembled as a low rumble echoed through the chamber. Dust fell from the ceiling, the ground beneath his feet quaking with growing intensity.

Dyabe scrambled to his feet, his breaths rapid and uneven. He clutched his injured hand to his chest, his eyes wide as he stared at the sarcophagus. The tremors intensified, and the stone lid began to shift. It slid open with a grinding sound, revealing nothing but pitch blackness within. The darkness seemed to consume the faint light around it, an unnatural void that made Dyabe's skin crawl.

His breathing quickened, his body shivering despite the cold air that began to fill the room. Frost crept along the edges of the sarcophagus, spreading outward. Dyabe's legs felt weak, and he stumbled back another step, unable to tear his gaze away. A voice broke the silence, echoing across the room and making Dyabe shout in pain as if the very sound burned into his mind.

"Quamdiu me dereliquisti hic?" (How long has it been since you left me here?)

Dyabe froze. His body refused to move, his mind unable to process what he had just heard. The frost continued to spread, and his breath fogged in the cold air.

"Pater... quamdiu me dereliquisti hic?" (Father... how long has it been since you left me down here?)

The voice came again, reverberating through the chamber. It was a sound that seemed to reach into Dyabe's chest and squeeze his heart. He tried to move, to step back further, but his body was paralyzed. His legs refused to obey.

A hand emerged from the darkness within the sarcophagus. The skin was pale and stretched tightly over the bones, the fingers long and clawed. It gripped the edge of the stone, dragging the rest of its body upward. The creature rose slowly, revealing itself piece by piece. Its gaunt frame was wrapped in tattered remnants of ancient garments, its wings folded tightly against its back. Its face was skeletal, with sunken eye sockets that glowed faintly with a sickly yellow light.

Dyabe's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He could only watch as the being fully emerged, its claws scraping against the stone. It towered over him, its presence filling the room with an oppressive weight.

"Quis es tu?" (Who are you?) the creature growled, its head tilting slightly as its glowing eyes focused on Dyabe.

Dyabe's entire body trembled, his back hitting the wall as he tried to distance himself from the monstrous figure. His mind screamed for him to run, but his legs remained rooted to the spot, his body frozen in fear.

...

Thorfinn swung his sword at the metal spider, aiming for its legs. The blade scraped off the armored limb, leaving sparks but no damage. The creature retaliated, lunging at him with a sharp, metallic appendage. He sidestepped, bringing his sword down in a two-handed strike on its exposed joint. This time, the joint buckled, and the spider faltered. Thorfinn followed up with a kick to its body, sending it sprawling. "Hit the joints! They're weaker there!" Thorfinn shouted, stepping over the twitching machine and driving his blade into its exposed core. The sparks stopped, and it lay still.

Around him, the soldiers fought, trying to take the creatures down. One man jabbed his spear into a spider's leg, but the creature twisted its body, knocking the weapon aside and lunging at him. Thorfinn moved quickly, slamming into the creature from the side with his shoulder. It staggered, giving the soldier a chance to drive his spear into the joint Thorfinn had weakened.

"Keep at it!" Thorfinn roared, turning to another spider that had cornered two men. He sprinted toward it, a white sphere formed in his hand, which he slammed into the creature's center. The quake rippled through its body, shattering its legs. It collapsed, writhing uselessly.

"Get it now!" he ordered. The men hesitated for a moment, then drove their swords into the exposed machinery. The creature stilled.

Another machine rolled toward them, this one a sphere bristling with sharp edges. It crashed into a line of soldiers, cutting one man's leg and sending him to the ground with a scream. Thorfinn sprinted toward it, dodging as the sphere spun and tried to catch him with its blades. He raised his hand, muttering an incantation, "Feidhmigh, doras na beatha, coinnigh siar a rith!" A wave of force surged outward, wrapping around and holding the sphere mid-spin.

He took advantage of its momentary stasis, driving his sword into the seam between its rotating blades. The weapon wedged, but he forced it deeper with a grunt, twisting it until sparks flew and the machine stuttered. A soldier ran up beside him and slammed his spear into the exposed core, finishing it off. Thorfinn barely had time to breathe before another spider lunged at him. He ducked under its legs, slashing at the joints as he moved. The creature staggered, but one of its legs caught his side, sending him tumbling. He rolled to his feet, raising his sword just as the spider advanced. Before it could strike, a soldier rammed his shield into it, forcing it back.

Thorfinn nodded at the man before charging forward again. He leapt onto the spider's back, driving his blade into the seam along its top. Sparks flew as he twisted the weapon, and the machine convulsed before collapsing.

"Fall back to the camp!" Thorfinn shouted as another rumble echoed from the massive building. The soldiers hesitated, looking around at the cavern . "Regroup and hold your ground!"

A deep vibration spread through the ground, and the machines froze in place. For a moment, there was an eerie silence. Then, as if responding to a signal, the creatures turned and began retreating toward the large structure.

"What now?" one of the men asked, panting as he wiped sweat from his brow.

"They're retreating," Thorfinn said, his voice grim. He watched as the last of the machines disappeared into the building's shadowed entrance. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing.

"What do we do?" another soldier asked, his voice shaky.

Thorfinn turned to the group. "They're heading toward Dyabe. We can't leave him alone down there."

One of the men shook his head, his hands were shaking, Throfinn could tell he was scared. "He told us to stay and secure the camp—"

"Forget the camp!" Thorfinn snapped, his voice cutting through the noise. "Do you want to explain to the Dinga's people why we left him to die?"

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances before nodding.

"Gather your weapons and follow me," Thorfinn said, his grip tightening on his sword. "We're going in."

Thorfinn rushed forward as he led the soldiers into the massive structure, their boots crunching against the debris-strewn floor. The faint hum of the structure echoed in the distance. He glanced over his shoulder. The men followed hesitantly, their grips tight on their weapons, their faces pale. Thorfinn kept moving, scanning the darkened halls for any sign of Dyabe, he lead them down the main staircase taking them down to the room he had been in; the bad feeling he'd had since he came here intenseified to a much greater extent.

A loud crash ahead made everyone stop. Thorfinn raised a hand, signaling silence. Another crash followed, then the screech of twisting metal. Thorfinn moved forward, his steps quick but steady. The soldiers stayed behind him, some muttering prayers under their breath. They entered a wide chamber. The remains of metal creatures littered the floor, their limbs scattered. In the center of the room, a massive figure loomed, its pale body hunched and bony, its arms long and ending in sharp claws. Its chest expanded as it let out a guttural snarl.

The creature leapt at a cluster of metal spiders, swiping with its claws. The machines shattered under its strikes, sparks flying. One spider jabbed at the creature's leg, puncturing it with a sharp limb. The creature roared, slamming its fist down and crushing the spider in a single blow.

The soldiers froze. One dropped his weapon, backing up until he hit the wall. Another whispered, "What is that?"

Thorfinn glanced at them. "Keep moving," he said, his voice firm. He stepped forward, forcing the others to follow.

The creature turned its head, its sunken eyes glowing faintly. It ignored the soldiers, turning back to the remaining machines. It tore another apart, but one of the spheres rolled into it, slamming into its ribs and leaving a deep gash. The creature stumbled but recovered, grabbing the sphere and crushing it between its hands. Thorfinn pushed forward, his sword ready. The soldiers followed reluctantly, their gazes darting between the creature and the machines. Thorfinn led them past the fight, keeping to the edges of the chamber. He scanned the room, searching for any sign of Dyabe.

"Over here!" one of the soldiers whispered, pointing toward a corner.

Thorfinn turned, spotting Dyabe crouched near a pillar. His hands trembled as he clutched his chest. His eyes darted around wildly, his lips moving but no words coming out.

Thorfinn hurried to him, kneeling down. "Dyabe," he said sharply, grabbing his shoulder. "We need to go."

Dyabe flinched, his breath hitching. He tried to speak, but the words came out stuttered. "The—sarcophagus—it... it spoke."

Thorfinn shook him. "Whatever it is, we don't have time. We have to move before the creature notices us."

Dyabe stared at him, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. Another crash echoed through the chamber, followed by a deep growl. The ground shook as the creature tore into another sphere.

Thorfinn grabbed Dyabe's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Get up!" he barked. Dyabe stumbled but obeyed, leaning heavily on Thorfinn as they started moving back toward the entrance.

"Stay together!" Thorfinn called to the soldiers. He kept his grip on Dyabe tight, his eyes scanning the room for any new threats. The creature roared again, the sound echoing through the chamber. Thorfinn gripped Dyabe tightly, his arm wrapped firmly around his shoulder as they stumbled out of the chamber. The soldiers followed, their hurried steps echoing through the trembling hall. Behind them, the sickening sound of claws scraping against stone faded into silence. Then came the voice.

"Ḥūmānī... mā lā yaqūʿūn liʼalrakaʻ." (Humans... ones who do not bow.)

Thorfinn risked a glance back. The pale creature was following, its bony claws dragging lightly along the walls. Its glowing, empty eyes burned with anger.

"Attack!" Thorfinn shouted, turning to the soldiers. "In the name of the Ghana! Kill it! It can't take all of you!"

The soldiers hesitated, terror etched across their faces. Some shuffled back while others gripped their weapons tighter, their fear nearly paralyzing them.

"You heard me!" Thorfinn roared. "Go now!"

A few of the bravest—or perhaps the most foolish—charged forward, their spears raised high. Others followed more hesitantly, believing themselves to be safer with everyone else.

The creature's lip curled into a snarl as it stopped in its tracks. "Tuḥāwilu al-dhafādiʻ mawjuha ʻīdī." (You dare attack Hakon last child of Caine.)

The first soldier thrust his spear with all his strength. Hakon tilted its head as the weapon neared, catching the shaft and twisting it effortlessly, snapping it in half. The soldier had no time to react before Hakon grabbed his jaw, forcing it open until the sickening sound of bone splitting filled the air. Blood poured as his tongue lolled limply, and the creature sank its fangs into his neck, drinking greedily. The soldier's body convulsed, the life draining from him until Hakon tossed him aside like a discarded rag.

Thorfinn froze, his stomach churning. Shadows began to pulse around Hakon as the blood gave it strength.

A second soldier swung his sword. The blade struck the creature's arm but bounced off harmlessly. Hakon's claws ripped upward, severing the man's arm from his shoulder. The soldier screamed, stumbling back, but Hakon didn't give him time to fall. It lunged forward, grabbing the man's head and pulling sharply until his neck stretched unnaturally. The creature snapped his head off with one powerful jerk, holding it briefly before throwing it into the crowd.

Another soldier tried to run, but Hakon was faster. It leaped onto his back, its claws piercing his chest and pulling him into the air. The man's cries turned to gurgles as Hakon tore out his lungs and threw them to the floor. "ʼanfaʻ min alhādiqat." (More useful outside your chest.)

More soldiers rushed forward, their desperation driving them. Hakon met them head-on, grabbing one by the throat and squeezing until his head popped, spraying blood across the walls. Another soldier thrust his spear into the creature's side, but Hakon grabbed the shaft and impaled the man on it, driving him into the stone wall until the spear snapped in two. The remaining soldiers faltered, their courage broken as they witnessed the massacre. Hakon stood among the bodies, drenched in blood, its chest heaving as it fed. The darkness around it grew denser, pulsing like a living thing.

Thorfinn gritted his teeth, dragging Dyabe forward. The Dinga stumbled, his breathing uneven. "Move!" Thorfinn growled, his voice sharp. "We need to get out of here now!"

Dyabe groaned, his legs barely cooperating. "What... what is that thing?" he stuttered, his eyes wide with fear.

Thorfinn didn't answer. He could still hear the screams of the dying behind him, but he didn't dare look back. They reached the stairs leading out, the ground beneath them trembling with each step.

A guttural roar echoed through the hall.

"Tamāmī yaḥtajūn tadhkirat al-jannah." (All of you may join the tyrant in paradise.)

Thorfinn pushed harder, his grip on Dyabe firm as they neared the exit. The smell of blood and death filled the air, but he forced himself to focus. The rumbling of the structure seemed to grow louder, the shadows lengthening as if following them. As they reached the outer corridors, Thorfinn muttered under his breath. "What in Hel's name have we woken up?"

Thorfinn could feel the creature finish up with the last of the soldiers and start to move up the stairs. With him carrying Dyabe he knew they wouldn't make it to the top. He pulled Dyabe forward as they bolted through another corridor off the stairs. Dyabe stumbled, his breathing uneven. Thorfinn glanced back, seeing Hakon's shadowed form trailing them.

"Move faster," Thorfinn said, gripping Dyabe's arm tighter and yanking him upright when he faltered.

"I can't—my legs—" Dyabe gasped.

"You can," Thorfinn snapped. He didn't look back again. They needed to put more distance between themselves and Hakon.

The corridor ahead opened into a large chamber. Thorfinn scanned the room, noting a series of toppled pillars and a broken staircase leading to another level. He pulled Dyabe toward the shadows cast by the pillars, motioning for him to crouch. Dyabe collapsed against one of the columns, holding his side and gasping for air. The sound of Hakon's footsteps echoed closer. Thorfinn knelt beside Dyabe, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. His eyes darted around the chamber, searching for another way out.

A faint scraping sound came from the far corner of the room. Thorfinn tensed, his grip tightening. He whispered, "Stay low," before stepping away from Dyabe and creeping toward the noise.

Hakon's voice echoed through the chamber, the foreign words chilling despite their unfamiliarity. "Wājib 'an aḥṣal ʿala damakum." (I must regain my strength.)

Thorfinn stopped, his breathing shallow. He crouched behind a fallen slab of stone, his gaze fixed on the entrance. Hakon's shadow stretched along the walls, Thorfinn gritted his teeth, gripping his sword tightly. Dyabe shifted behind him, his movement drawing Hakon's attention. The creature's head tilted slightly before he took another step forward. Thorfinn cursed under his breath and rose from his position, slamming his boot against the stone slab to draw Hakon's attention away from Dyabe.

Hakon's eyes locked onto Thorfinn. The creature's lips curled into something that resembled a grin. Thorfinn ran toward the staircase, motioning for Dyabe to follow. Dyabe staggered to his feet and stumbled after him. They reached the staircase, Thorfinn helping Dyabe climb over the broken steps. Hakon followed at a steady pace, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

They reached the top and bolted down another corridor. Thorfinn kept his grip on Dyabe's arm, pulling him forward when he faltered. The walls were carved with strange symbols, their faint glow lighting the way.

Hakon's voice echoed again, closer now. "Lā yumkinuka al-firār." (You cannot escape.)

Thorfinn growled under his breath and pushed Dyabe into a side room, shutting the door behind them. He turned and scanned the small space. It was empty except for a few scattered stones and debris. He moved to the back wall, searching for another exit.

Hakon's footsteps stopped outside the door. The creature's voice was low, almost mocking. "Lā mafr lil-khidhlān." (There is no escape from death.)

The door splintered as Hakon's clawed hand punched through. Thorfinn grabbed Dyabe and pushed him toward the far corner of the room. The door shattered as Hakon stepped inside, his eyes fixed on Thorfinn. Thorfinn swung his sword, aiming for Hakon's neck. The creature caught the blade with one hand, shoving Thorfinn backward. Thorfinn hit the wall, his grip on the sword slipping. Hakon crossed the room in two steps and grabbed Thorfinn by the throat, lifting him off the ground.

"You will not deny me," Hakon growled. His fangs glinted as he leaned closer, sinking his teeth into Thorfinn's neck.

Thorfinn gasped, his body tensing as the pain shot through him. His hands clawed at Hakon's arm, but the creature's grip was too powerful. He felt his strength draining, his vision blurring. He felt himself slowly slipping away, 'No... I can't,' he thought to himself as his mind flashed to Rebekah and Freydis, he couldn't afford to fail, he couldn't afford to leave them. Deep within him, something stirred. It was faint at first, a flicker of warmth. Then it grew, a pressure building in his chest. It surged through him, uncontrollable and overwhelming. A burst of light erupted from his body, forcing Hakon to release him.

Hakon stumbled back, smoke rising from his hands and mouth. He growled in pain, his movements unsteady. Thorfinn collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

Dyabe rushed to his side, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go now!" Dyabe shouted, his voice trembling. Thorfinn nodded weakly, leaning on Dyabe for support. They stumbled out of the room, Thorfinn's steps faltering but he pushed himself, his muscles burned but it wasn't the first time. Behind them, Hakon knelt on the ground, his hands trembling. He raised one to his mouth, tasting the blood on his fingers.

"Damm ilāhī..." (Divine blood...) Hakon muttered, his voice laced with intrigue. His wounds began to heal, the burns fading.

"Ābā' al-qadīmīn..." (The old gods...) Hakon said, a twisted grin spreading across his face. His laughter echoed through the chamber as he stood.

Thorfinn and Dyabe staggered into another hallway, the sound of Hakon's laughter following them. Thorfinn pressed a hand to his neck, the wound still fresh, his body trembling from the aftereffects of whatever had happened.

"What was that?" Dyabe asked, his voice frantic.

"I don't know," Thorfinn said, his breathing heavy. He glanced back, the hallway empty for now. "I don't care, I just want to get out of here." He grabbed his arm, pulling him forward as they bolted through the dimly lit corridors. The walls vibrated faintly behind them, the sound of Hakon's deep, growling voice echoing somewhere in the distance. The air felt heavier with every step, making it harder to breathe. Thorfinn's grip on Dyabe's arm was firm as he forced him to keep moving. They stumbled out of the building and into the ruined city. Thorfinn glanced back, half expecting to see Hakon emerging from the shadows. He exhaled in relief when he didn't, though he knew it wouldn't last.

The camp wasn't far. He could see the torches lining its perimeter and the faint outline of soldiers. "Dinga!" They shouted as he came into view. Though when they reached the camp, Thorfinn immediately noticed something was wrong. The platform they needed to escape was missing, currently being lowered from the top of the cavern. Thorfinn cursed under his breath, this was the e only way out and they needed to wait until it came back down.

A deafening roar erupted from the building behind them, shaking the ground. Soldiers turned, their faces pale with fear. Dyabe straightened, his eyes wide. "Every man, prepare to fight! Attack that creature!" he bellowed, pointing toward the source of the roar. The soldiers hesitated, their hands trembling on their weapons. Thorfinn drew his sword, stepping forward despite the searing pain in his neck and the exhaustion weighing him down.

The first of Hakon's men stepped forward, swords raised. The soldiers rallied, charging toward the massive figure now emerging from the shadows. Hakon's claws tore through the first man, ripping him apart with a single swipe. His chest cavity was laid bare, organs spilling onto the ground. A second soldier thrust his spear, but Hakon grabbed the weapon mid-air, snapping it in half before stabbing the broken end into the soldier's throat. Blood sprayed as the man fell, gurgling. Another group rushed him from the side, one throwing a weighted net over his shoulders. Hakon didn't stop. He spun, the net tangling the men who held it. They screamed as he twisted his claws, snapping necks and crushing skulls. He grabbed another soldier by the leg, slamming him against the ground repeatedly until his body was limp.

A spear struck Hakon's back, the tip embedding in his flesh. He turned, his glowing eyes locking onto the man who had thrown it. With inhuman speed, Hakon was on him, grabbing the man's head and twisting it clean off. He held it up, blood dripping onto the ground as he roared, throwing the head into the crowd of soldiers.

Thorfinn gritted his teeth, charging forward. He ducked under Hakon's swing, his sword slicing across the creature's side. Hakon hissed, the wound shallow but enough to get his attention. Thorfinn dodged again as claws swiped at his head, spinning to deliver a strike to Hakon's thigh. The creature barely flinched, grabbing Thorfinn by the shoulder and throwing him into a pile of rubble.

Thorfinn pushed himself up, coughing, his grip tightening on his sword. He raised his hand, forming the Igni sign, and released a burst of flames toward Hakon. The fire struck his chest, but Hakon seemed unaffected, merely tilting his head as if amused. Hakon growled, his voice guttural. He lunged forward, but Thorfinn countered with a Quen shield, the impact sending a shockwave through the air. Hakon recoiled slightly, giving Thorfinn enough time to roll away.

Despite getting some good hits in Thorfinn fought to stay on his feet, his sword trembling in his grip. Hakon was incredibly fast, his claws raking the air as Thorfinn dodged and countered. He was faster than anything Thorfinn had ever faced. Each strike from Thorfinn's blade barely slowed him down.

Hakon's laugh rumbled through the air. "Eslai varon ka anae," he growled. (You struggle in vain.)

Thorfinn staggered, gripping his sword tightly. He clenched his fist tightly as his quake ability charged he roared as he slammed his fist into the ground. The force cracked the stone beneath them, causing Hakon to stumble for a moment. Thorfinn rushed forward, driving his blade into Hakon's chest. The creature roared, but his lips curled into a grin. "Vakaro sal tean?" (Is this all?) he growled, gripping the blade with one hand and wrenching it free. He tossed the sword aside, stepping toward Thorfinn.

Thorfinn swung a fist, but Hakon caught it mid-air, twisting his arm painfully. With his other hand, Hakon drove his clawed fingers into Thorfinn's chest, piercing just above his heart. Thorfinn screamed, his knees buckling as Hakon leaned in, his fangs bared.

"Lanrae sol ti, neira sol dra," Hakon hissed, his voice dripping with malice. (You will die here, your blood will be mine.)

Thorfinn struggled, his free hand grabbing weakly at Hakon's arm. He felt the claws dig deeper, the pain blinding. Just as Hakon prepared to strike the final blow, a shadow moved in the corner of Thorfinn's vision. Dyabe appeared, his spear raised high. Without hesitation, he drove it into Hakon's side with all his strength. The creature roared, stumbling back as the weapon pierced him. Dyabe grabbed Thorfinn by the arm, pulling him away.

"Go!" Dyabe shouted, his voice strained.

Hakon's glowing eyes fixed on Dyabe. "Taso valrin tra!" he snarled, ripping the spear from his side and throwing it aside. (You dare defy me?) He lunged, his claws tearing into Dyabe's chest. Blood sprayed as Dyabe cried out, falling to his knees.

Thorfinn froze, his chest heaving as he watched his friend collapse. "Dyabe!" he roared, stepping forward, but it was too late. Hakon cast Dyabe aside like a broken doll, his body crumpling to the ground.

The sight of Dyabe's lifeless form ignited something deep within Thorfinn. His body trembled, a burning sensation spreading from his core. A guttural roar escaped his lips as the light burst forth again, more intense than before. It radiated outwards, engulfing Hakon and forcing him back with a scream of pain. Smoke rose from his body as the light seared his flesh.

"Naesira valin!" Hakon roare, stumbling back. (Wretched blood!) He clutched his face, his voice shaking with rage.

Thorfinn stumbled toward Dyabe's body, his knees giving out as he knelt beside him. For a brief moment, he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, his breathing ragged. He turned, his eyes locking onto the platform as it hovered just above the ground. He forced himself to his feet, his legs screaming in protest. Behind him, Hakon's growls echoed through the air, filled with fury. Thorfinn didn't look back. He sprinted for the platform, throwing himself onto it just as it began to rise. He gripped the edge tightly, his body shaking from exhaustion and pain. Below, Hakon stumbled forward, his wings unfurling as if to pursue.

The creature leapt into the air but faltered, crashing back to the ground. "Tasar karan sol," he growled, his voice a mix of rage and frustration. (My magic has not returned.) He looked up at Thorfinn with a twisted grin. "Rantra sen, valin. Elrae karan." (Run while you can, mortal. We will meet again.)

Thorfinn didn't respond. He lay on the platform, staring up at the cavern ceiling as it carried him higher. Pain rushed through him as he rolled onto his stomach and looked down to see the monster devouring Dyabe. His gaze then looked to the creature that had slaughtered hundreds of people in less than an hour, not even Thorfinn stabbing it through the heart stopped it.

Thorfinn could only hope it couldn't escape from this pit, if it did then none of them were safe.

(AN: I hate this. Honestly I hate this chapter with a passion, I hate it so much i would delete it if it were not so long and caused many sleepless nights. I've actually never felt so miserable writing before, I came close to quitting that's how much I hate this chapter. Anyway if you can tell Hakon is the same Hakon from Skyrim but in this he's a 2nd generation Vampire made by Caine (refer to world of darkness lore). Before anyone says it yes I know they are insanely powerful and they could likely just fart everyone out of existence but he's been asleep for 10,000 years, so give me a break. Anyway I don't like writing goodbyes so I'll likely just give an overview of what happened next, next chapter. Yeah I would say I hope you enjoy this chapter but I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, honestly it's trash. Not even gonna link my Patreon.)