The Dungeon

The stone walls pressed in around them, damp with condensation and slick beneath their fingertips. The dungeon stretched out ahead like a forgotten scar beneath the temple, twisting and shifting with a strange, deliberate purpose.

Aldric cast a wary glance at Lysara as they paused near a bend in the corridor. "This place... doesn't make sense," he said, voice low.

She ran her fingers along the wall, her scaled skin glimmering faintly against the rough surface. Strange, bioluminescent plants clung to the stone, their pale blue glow casting eerie shadows across the uneven floor. Tendrils of moss curled down like vines, shifting slightly as if reacting to their presence.

"Dungeons were supposed to be fairy tales," Lysara murmured. "Stories priests told children. A myth about cursed spaces where magic pools unnaturally."

"Yeah. Never thought I'd find one under a temple." Aldric adjusted his grip on his sword. "Makes you wonder... was the dungeon here first? Or did someone build it later?"

Lysara's eyes flicked toward the ceiling, where thick veins of glowing roots spread like a web. "If I had to guess... this thing's older than the temple. Maybe older than the Cradle itself."

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. The Divine Cradle was ancient—one of the last standing relics from the days when gods still walked the earth. If this dungeon predated it, then they were standing atop something far more dangerous than simple forgotten magic.

They moved forward. The bioluminescent plants continued to guide their way, their pale glow steady but faint.

The first few floors proved relatively straightforward. The corridors remained consistent in width, the air thick with that faint void-tainted chill. They encountered several more spectres—thin, smoke-like figures that drifted from the walls like shadows given shape. But these were minor creatures, more annoyance than threat.

Lysara dispatched most of them with her staff, the glow of her holy magic burning through the spectres' incorporeal bodies with ease. Aldric handled the rest, his sword biting through the creatures like a blade through mist.

"It's almost... too easy," Aldric muttered after clearing the third floor. He wiped his sword on his cloak and surveyed the chamber around them.

The dungeon's structure had shifted subtly the deeper they went. The first level had been carved from marble and granite—ornate and obviously man-made. By the second floor, natural rock formations jutted from the ground in uneven clusters, and patches of moss crept across the walls. By the third floor, entire sections of the corridor had been replaced with jagged, earthen walls, roots thick as ropes dangling from the ceiling.

Nature and structure blended here. And not in a way that made sense.

"It feels like... like the dungeon's absorbing the earth around it," Lysara said softly. "Growing, almost."

"Like a tree," Aldric agreed. "A tree rooted in... what? Void energy?"

She didn't answer. They both felt it: the cold, unnatural power leaking through the walls like a persistent, unwelcome whisper.

They moved on, descending a short flight of uneven steps onto the fourth floor.

The change hit them immediately.

The faint glow from the wall-plants faded here, the light thinning to occasional flickers. The air thickened into something cloying, damp and stagnant. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, riddled with cracks hidden beneath curling moss. The walls loomed closer, forming irregular corridors that twisted at sharp angles.

"Great," Aldric muttered. "A maze."

"And a bad one," Lysara said, crouching to inspect the floor. "See this?"

He knelt beside her. The faint groove she'd pointed to looked like claw marks carved into the stone. The pattern repeated further ahead, disappearing into shadow.

"Something else has been through here," Aldric said.

"Yeah. And it wasn't spectres."

They moved cautiously through the labyrinthine corridors. The passages branched and looped unpredictably, doubling back in ways that defied logic. Twice they passed the same collapsed archway despite taking different turns.

The air grew colder the deeper they went. The glow of the bioluminescent plants became unreliable; some flickered like dying candles, others shuddered away from Lysara's presence.

Aldric caught himself glancing behind them every few minutes, convinced he heard footsteps echoing just beyond sight.

"Could this thing be alive?" he asked finally.

"Alive?" Lysara shook her head but didn't look certain. "No. But maybe... aware. It reacts when you push against it."

They reached another junction, pausing to orient themselves.

Without warning, something clicked beneath Aldric's boot.

His breath caught.

"Lysara—"

The trap triggered.

From both sides of the corridor, narrow slits appeared in the stone walls. The faint hiss of mechanisms groaned into life.

Aldric raised his shield just as the arrows shot out.

The first wave slammed into the metal surface, splintering on impact. The second came half a heartbeat later, the force staggering him backward. He twisted his body, shielding Lysara.

The assault stopped after five volleys. The corridor filled with the sharp tang of splintered wood and the metallic bite of void-touched arrowheads. One of the projectiles had grazed his shoulder, slicing through his cloak.

"You okay?" Lysara asked, gripping his arm.

"Yeah." He exhaled through clenched teeth. "Didn't think a dungeon trap would be my cause of death." He tapped his shield with his sword, inspecting the fresh gouges. "Good thing Tellik still believes in me."

Lysara smiled faintly. "Or maybe he just likes your stubbornness."

They continued, moving slower now. The traps became more frequent.

A stone slab shifted beneath Lysara's foot, releasing a burst of acidic mist. Aldric hauled her backward before it could hit her skin.

Another corridor ended in a sudden pit concealed by brittle stone plates.

The dungeon was no longer simply observing. It was actively trying to wear them down.

"These traps aren't just here to kill us," Lysara said after dodging a blade that scythed from the ceiling. "They're meant to exhaust us. Keep us off balance."

"Slow us down," Aldric agreed. "Whatever's at the center of this place... it doesn't want us getting close.

The maze had finally surrendered to them, but victory felt hollow.

The winding corridors of shifting stone had given way to rough, uneven rock. The bioluminescent plants that once clung to the walls had disappeared entirely, leaving only the faintest glow from runes buried deep in the stone. Their breath echoed against the cave walls, loud in the oppressive silence.

The air was hotter now. Stifling. It thickened with every step, burning their lungs and turning each breath into a shallow gasp.

But it wasn't just the heat that slowed them.

The voices had started an hour ago.

"You lost your faith, boy."

The whisper curled around Aldric's mind like a barbed rope, tightening with every step.

"You ran. You faltered. You killed me."

Sir Danton's voice. Crisp, cold, and unforgiving.

Aldric grit his teeth and kept moving. His boots scraped against the rough ground, every muscle in his body tight with the effort of ignoring the whisper.

Beside him, Lysara wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched, her breath uneven.

He reached for her arm. "You hear them too?"

Her nod was sharp. "Yeah. My old commander... keeps telling me I ran. That I left them to die." She exhaled shakily. "It's not just memories, Aldric. These voices... they know us."

Aldric scanned the corridor ahead. The air shimmered with heat waves, distorting the edges of the stone. The dungeon had changed again. The walls no longer bore the careful craftsmanship of ancient builders. This was raw earth, jagged and irregular.

The voice returned.

"I held the line while you ran, boy."

Aldric's hand trembled on the hilt of his sword. He squeezed harder, willing himself to ignore it.

It didn't work.

The whisper slithered deeper into his mind. He could see it now: Danton's last moments on that battlefield. The blood. The fire. The moment he'd turned his horse and fled.

"Faith breaks before steel. And you broke first."

His steps faltered.

Lysara caught his wrist. "Hey. It's not real." Her fingers, slick with sweat, squeezed his arm. "Stay with me, Aldric."

The whisper hissed in protest.

He blinked rapidly and focused on Lysara's eyes. Silver and sharp, despite the exhaustion written across her face.

"We fight this together," she said. "Don't give it room to grow."

Aldric forced himself to breathe again. He squeezed her hand once before nodding. "Yeah. Together."

They pushed onward, leaning into each other when the voices surged, whispering doubts, guilt, and regret. The heat swelled, turning the air thick and dry like the breath of a forge. Their clothes clung to their skin, soaked in sweat.

After what felt like hours, the whispers faded, dissolving into faint, resentful murmurs.

The relief was short-lived.

Ahead, faint lights appeared in the darkness. Pale, dancing orbs that drifted along the corridor like fireflies on a summer night.

"More wisps," Lysara muttered.

"Yeah, but they're acting... strange." Aldric squinted as the lights bobbed lazily through the air. They didn't approach directly. Instead, they lingered at the edges of the corridor, hovering near side passages.

One of the orbs glided to the left and hovered near a narrow path. Another drifted to the right, beckoning them toward a dark alcove.

"They're guiding us," Lysara said softly. "Or trying to."

"Think we should follow?"

"No." Her eyes narrowed. "They're void-touched. I can feel it. They're trying to lead us into traps."

As if to confirm her suspicion, Aldric stepped toward one of the side passages. The orb brightened slightly, its glow becoming almost inviting.

Then he noticed the faint lines on the ground—barely visible tripwires crisscrossing the entrance.

"Yeah," he said, stepping back. "Definitely traps."

The wisps reacted instantly. Their gentle movements turned erratic. They darted closer, circling them with sudden aggression.

"Stay close," Lysara warned.

The lights spun faster. Their glow intensified, flashing in jagged patterns.

Then the whispers returned—stronger this time.

"Turn here... safety lies beyond the veil."

"Trust us. Follow the light."

Aldric gritted his teeth and raised his shield. The wisps darted toward him, slamming against the blessed metal. Light flared on impact, and the creatures recoiled with sharp, angry shrieks.

"They're pushing us back!" Lysara shouted.

One of the wisps shot toward her, wrapping itself around her staff. The wood crackled, veins of black energy spiderwebbing down its length.

Lysara cursed and swung the staff into the nearest wall. The impact shattered the wisp, scattering fragments of light like broken glass.

More poured toward them.

Aldric raised his sword. "Enough of this." He whispered a prayer, letting the familiar words ground him.

"Tellik, shield us from shadow. Bind the false light to the truth."

The runes on his blade ignited with pale blue radiance. He slashed through the nearest cluster of wisps. The creatures shrieked and dissolved into thin smoke.

Lysara followed his lead. Her staff glowed with renewed energy as she swept it through the remaining lights.

The surviving wisps fled, darting back down the maze of corridors.

The silence that followed was oppressive.

"That was... unpleasant," Aldric muttered, wiping his brow.

Lysara gave a humourless laugh. "Yeah. Let's move before they come back with friends."

The corridor narrowed as they pressed onward. The ground beneath them grew warmer with each step, and the air shimmered with waves of heat.

By the time they reached the end of the sixth floor, their breaths came in ragged gasps. Their clothes were soaked with sweat.

The tunnel ended in a wide stone arch. Beyond it lay a vast chamber.

The floor here was scorched black. Cracks splintered across the stone, glowing faintly with molten light. The walls were raw rock, pockmarked with deep scars.

At the centre of the room stood a figure.

Aldric stopped dead. His pulse quickened.

The creature was humanoid but wrong. Its skin was a deep, blood-red, the texture rough and cracked like dried clay. Two black horns curved from its forehead, angling backward. Jagged, bony spikes jutted from its forearms, curving like twin blades.

It stood motionless, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths.

"What the hell is that?" Aldric whispered.

Lysara shifted into a defensive stance, staff raised. "I don't know. But I've never seen anything like it. Not Voidborn... not Lightborn."

The creature's eyes snapped open.

They glowed like molten iron.

The temperature in the room spiked. The ground beneath their feet cracked with an audible snap as veins of fiery light spread outward from the creature's position.

It smiled, revealing rows of serrated teeth.

"Lightborn," it said, voice low and guttural. "I've been waiting for you."