Chapter 2

Before Sol and Bel could respond, a piercing shriek echoed through the darkness, cutting their conversation short—if it could even be called that. Sol instinctively tightened his grip on his staff, pulling Bel closer to him in a protective stance.

"We need to leave. Now!" the stranger urged, panic lacing his voice.

Bel's instincts screamed at her to run. Every fiber of her being warned that staying any longer would bring disaster.

"Sol, we're leaving," she commanded.

Without hesitation, Sol was about to summon his flying cloud when Bel's voice rang inside his mind. Don't use the cloud. We might be at a disadvantage in the air.

Understanding her reasoning, Sol refrained from summoning it and instead turned his attention to the stranger, who now stood rigid, fear flickering in his eyes.

"You," Sol said firmly. "We mean you no harm. We're in the same boat. Bring us to safety."

Though reluctant, the stranger nodded in defeat and quickly led them away from the massive fissure in the ground, where the shadowy entities lurked.

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They traveled north in tense silence for nearly an hour, the oppressive darkness stretching endlessly around them. Sol's patience wore thin.

"I know we told you to guide us," he grumbled, his tone sharp, "but how much longer is this going to take?"

Bel, however, seemed unbothered. She remained engrossed in her book, flipping through pages while absentmindedly collecting bits of the blackened soil as they walked.

"I know you two possess great power," the stranger finally spoke, his voice steadier now. "I have no intention of risking my life by doing anything foolish."

"Good to hear you're aware," Sol scoffed, unimpressed.

"There is nothing in this land," the stranger murmured, glancing at Bel, who appeared completely absorbed in her studies.

But then, Bel suddenly halted. Her wolf ears twitched as she gazed toward the dark horizon. "Something's moving," she stated.

Sol immediately extended his staff, doubling its length in an instant. The stranger's eyes widened in awe at the effortless display of power.

"Wait! Don't attack!" the stranger blurted out hastily. "That's our land!"

Without hesitation, Bel raised her wand and cast a spell, enveloping herself and Sol in black cloaks that blended seamlessly with the shadows.

The stranger swallowed hard. His suspicion was confirmed—these two were no ordinary travelers. They were powerful, or maybe even divine. If he tried to flee now, he might put his entire land at risk.

All he could do was lead them forward, straight to the most powerful being he knew.

The stranger continued leading them north. As they walked, the terrain began to shift—small hillocks emerged from the barren land, their surfaces riddled with holes that resembled entrances. Bel's keen hearing picked up faint conversations within these mounds; whispers, murmurs, even laughter.

So, this world does have a civilization, she thought, intrigued.

"I will take you to my home first," the stranger said hesitantly. "I don't know if this is the right thing to do, but... the Guide has never brought us harm."

Sol furrowed his brows, still unsure what this so-called Guide was, but he didn't question it. Whatever the case, Bel seemed calm, and if she wasn't worried, neither was he.

They followed the stranger as he stepped into one of the hillocks, disappearing through the dark entrance. As Bel had suspected, the inside was hollow, a crude but functional living space.

What caught her attention, however, was when the stranger picked up a tool resembling flint and steel, striking it to produce a spark. He carefully placed the small flame into a carved indentation on the wall, illuminating the space with flickering light.

Sol, without invitation, plopped himself down on what appeared to be a makeshift bench made of compacted soil. His sharp eyes scanned the room, just as curious as Bel.

The stranger, unfazed by Sol's rudeness, took a seat on another bench across from them.

"It might be a little late," he said, "but my name is Bules. I am one of the hunters of this tribe." He studied them carefully, waiting—expecting them to offer information in return.

Bel, however, simply gave a small smile. "You already know our names. I trust you still remember them."

Her voice was soft, yet firm. She had no intention of offering more unless Bules gave them something first.

Bules sighed, scratching his head. He wasn't stupid—he could tell that Bel was far more dangerous than the brute sitting across from him. He should never have approached them at the fissure. He should have turned back.

But it was too late now. He had already brought them into his home.

"I don't know why you've come here or if I can even help you," he admitted. "But I can take you to someone who might know what to do."

Bel observed Bules in silence, now able to take in his features clearly. His skin wasn't black but had a bluish-gray tint, his round eyes held pitch-black irises, and his dark hair was tightly braided, blending into the surrounding shadows. He was muscular, clad in garments made of soft, dark scales that covered his torso and extended down to his waist—eerily similar to the skin of the black entities they had seen in the fissure. Do they hunt them? she wondered.

Notably, Bules bore no scars, leading Bel to suspect he was a relatively new "hunter." His willingness to trust strangers and invite them into his home only reinforced his inexperience.

"For now, we wait. The Guide will protect us," Bules said ominously. "The Lord of the Void is near—you heard it too. The sound it makes before an attack." With that, he stood and sealed the mound's entrance with a heavy stone door.

Irritated by the cryptic words, Sol shot to his feet. "Can you stop talking like some cryptic seer and just tell us what the fuck is going on?

Bules flinched slightly at Sol's outburst but quickly composed himself. His black irises studied the two outsiders again, as if weighing how much he should reveal.

Bel remained seated, her expression unreadable, though her eyes flickered with interest. She had already deduced a few things—the way Bules' garments resembled the creatures from the fissure, the lack of scars on his body suggesting inexperience, and the reverence in his voice when he spoke of the Guide.

But the Lord of the Void? That was new.

Bules sighed and ran a hand over his braided hair. "I forget that outsiders do not know our ways," he muttered before looking at Sol. "The sound you heard earlier—the shriek—it wasn't just a signal."

Bel's ears twitched. "A signal?"

Bules nodded. "The Lord of the Void hunts in cycles. When the wailing begins, it means it's searching for prey." His voice lowered. "And if we had stayed out there any longer, we would've been next."

Sol scoffed, crossing his arms. "So what? Some big bad monster is lurking out there, and you just hide in your little dirt houses hoping it doesn't find you?"

Bules narrowed his eyes. "If we fight it, we die. If we run, we die. The only thing we can do is wait for the Guide's protection."

"The Guide again." Bel tapped a finger against her knee. "Who is this Guide? You spoke as if there was only one, yet you mistook us for them."

Bules hesitated. "The Guide... is the only one who can stand against the Lord of the Void. They are chosen by the gods." He paused. "But the Guide- no the guide is powerful."

Bel and Sol exchanged a glance.

"They were chosen by the gods to protect us," Bules repeated, as if convincing himself that what he said is right. "The Guide is the only one who can stand against the Lord of the Void. They wield the blessing of light, something that should not exist in this world." His black irises flicked between Bel and Sol. "When I saw you, I thought... maybe-."

Sol let out a dry chuckle. "Whoa, stop right there. You think we're some holy saviors? Hate to break it to you, but we're just here for something else entirely."

Before Bules could say more, a bone-chilling wail echoed from outside, sending vibrations through the walls of the mound.

Bel heard it again—beyond the thick walls of the mound, the sound of countless footsteps rushing in every direction. The creatures from earlier were moving, but this time, their hurried steps carried a different weight. They weren't marching aimlessly. They were fleeing.

Fleeing from something bigger.

Bules dropped to his knees, his face contorted in sheer terror. Whatever trace of a hunter's composure he had before was now completely gone. "The Guide... is the only one who can stand against the Lord of the Void," he muttered, his voice shaking. "They are chosen by the gods. The Guide will protect us. The Guide will protect us." He repeated the words like a sacred mantra, seemingly oblivious to Bel and Sol's reactions.

Then, another shriek pierced the air.

Sol felt it immediately—an overwhelming energy radiating from the south, just outside the mound. A force so vast, so suffocating, that every hair on his body stood on end. His grip on his staff tightened as an unsettling realization washed over him.

Whatever that thing is... I can't take it on in my current state.

They remained still and silent, Bules frozen in place, holding his breath as they waited for the entities outside to pass. Every second stretched endlessly, each heartbeat thudding in their ears like a drum. Though it lasted only a minute, the commotion outside felt like an eternity.

Then—silence.

The air was thick with tension, as if the very darkness around them was holding its breath.

Once Bel was certain the outside was clear, she rose to her feet and moved cautiously around the room.

"Belus, now is the time to tell us what's really happening. From what I see, you and your people need help far more than we do," she said, her tone calm but firm.

Bel was no saint, but she wasn't heartless either. She never took unnecessary risks without something in return—a lesson ingrained in her by her master. To her, everything had a price, whether small or great. And unless something piqued her interest, it was nothing more than background noise.

Belus sighed, his shoulders slumping in shame at the fear he had displayed before his guests.

"You're right," he admitted. "It should be safe now. Come with me."

He stood and pushed open the heavy stone door. Outside, the night was eerily quiet, as if the chaos from moments ago had never happened. The land lay undisturbed, but Bel's sharp ears picked up faint sounds—muffled sobs coming from the nearby hillocks.

Without a word, they followed Belus, passing by multiple hillocks, until they reached a larger mound, distinct from the rest. It was taller, its entrance wider, with faint markings etched onto its surface—symbols, or rather, illustrations of a humanoid holding what it looks like a round object near its chest. Unlike the other dwellings, this one exuded a sense of authority, an air of significance.

Belus hesitated at the entrance, glancing back at Bel and Sol before stepping forward. He pushed aside a thick curtain made of woven dark fibers, revealing a chamber within.

Inside, the air was heavy, filled with the scent of damp earth and something faintly metallic. At the center of the room sat an elderly figure cloaked in layered robes made of black scales, their face partially hidden beneath a hood. Though frail in appearance, there was something sharp and knowing in their posture.

Sol crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "I assume this is the one who can actually answer our questions?" he asked rudely asked, his voice edged with impatience.

The elder lifted their head, their black irises glinting under the dim light of a small fire. A slow nod.

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"It is rare to see another outsider in this endless darkness. You… shine," the old woman said, her voice trembling slightly with age.

Bel remained silent, studying the elder carefully, thinking how much she could trust her. Her instincts told her there was no danger, but Bel had always been wary—especially when her emotions clouded her judgment. And she had a soft spot for the elderly. For now, she chose to rely on Sol's intuition. If this woman posed any threat, Sol would have sensed it the moment he laid eyes on her.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself properly," the old woman continued with a soft chuckle. "I've long since forgotten my own name."

With slow, deliberate movements, she reached up and pulled back the hood that concealed her face.

Bel and Sol stiffened in surprise. The elder looked nothing like Belus or the creatures they had encountered so far. Her wrinkled face was as pale as porcelain, her faded lips drained of color. Her eyes, though clouded with age, shimmered a deep ocean blue, and her ears were shaped like delicate fins. But it was her hair that caught their attention the most—silver as moonlight, unlike anything they had seen in this darkened world. She was unlike any being they had encountered here. A different species entirely.

Bel's eyes narrowed as realization dawned on her. She knew exactly what this woman was.

"A mermaid?" she whispered, curiosity lacing her tone.

It didn't make sense. Unlike the frail elder before them, mermaids never aged, not in the way other species did. Blessed with eternal youth, their appearance remained unchanged until the moment of their death. And yet, this woman's face bore the marks of time, her body weakened with age. More importantly, she lacked the defining feature of her kind—her tail.

The old woman tilted her head slightly, as if trying to grasp onto a long-forgotten memory. "Oh… is that what I was called?" she murmured. "Time has taken much from me. My past is a haze, my name lost to the years. But one thing I do remember…" She gripped her cane and slowly pushed herself up, her frail frame trembling from the effort.

"I was called a guide."