Threads of Deception

The atmosphere remained tense as Cinder stood before them after dinner, waiting for an answer.

Her offer of teamwork had come out of nowhere, and Eris could see the uncertainty on Aven and Ash's faces.

"You expect us to just believe you?" Aven crossed her arms, her voice sharp. "You weren't with us when we found the clue. How do you suddenly know where the ruin is?"

Cinder's expression didn't change. "I don't know the exact location," she admitted. "But I found pieces of information—symbols, carvings—things most people overlook. When I overheard you asking about ruins, it confirmed my suspicions."

Eris narrowed her eyes. "Why not go with Orlen's team?"

Cinder's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't trust him. He wants power and doesn't care how he gets it."

Ash studied her, unreadable. "And we're just supposed to trust you?"

Cinder hesitated. "I—" She exhaled sharply. "I'm a healer."

Silence.

Aven's eyes widened slightly before she masked it. Eris felt her skepticism waver. A healer? That was rare. And valuable.

Cinder didn't look smug about revealing it. If anything, she looked annoyed. "I wasn't planning to say anything, but if you want to survive Dust Watch Hollow, you'll need me."

Eris glanced at Ash, remembering their last battle. A healer would make a difference—but could they trust her?

"Fine," Aven finally said, wary. "We'll work together. But if you betray us—"

"I won't," Cinder said simply.

Aven didn't look convinced, but she let it go.

Eris lingered as Aven and Ash bid Cinder goodnight.

It suddenly hit her.

Aven had always helped her since she arrived. Ash must have earned Aven's trust somehow. But now someone else? She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Now she understood Aven's reluctance to let Nia join them. A fourth person changed the dynamic—added risks. Trusting one or two people was one thing. Three?

She exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. This was temporary. Nothing more.

Right now, survival was all that mattered.

---

They set out at dawn, missing breakfast as they followed the fragmented clues from the map and Cinder's findings. But the land itself seemed determined to stop them.

The first trial came in a forest of shifting trees. The trunks twisted unnaturally, branches curling toward them like skeletal fingers. At first, it was just eerie—until they tried to navigate through.

The trees moved when they weren't looking. Paths that had been clear seconds ago vanished into dense thickets. Footsteps echoed behind them, though no one was there.

"We're being toyed with," Ash muttered.

"We have to move fast," Aven said. "There's a pattern. The trees shift when we turn our backs."

Eris grabbed a piece of chalk from her pouch and marked an X on a tree. She turned away for a second, then snapped her gaze back.

The X was gone.

A chill ran down her spine. "That's not natural."

Cinder clenched her fists. "Then let's get out of here before whatever's doing this gets more aggressive."

It took them an hour to escape, navigating strategically, avoiding paths that seemed too inviting.

When they finally emerged, the relief was short-lived.

The ground gave way beneath them.

Eris barely had time to react before she was falling. Dust and debris blinded her as she tumbled into darkness.

She hit the ground hard. Pain flared in her shoulder, but she forced herself up.

The others groaned nearby.

Aven coughed, brushing dirt from her clothes. "Great. A trap."

Cinder winced, holding her ankle. "Looks like it."

Ash shook off the fall. "At least we're not dead."

The pit's walls were jagged stone, too steep to climb easily. Worse was the presence pressing in from the shadows.

Then they heard it—the slow, dragging scrape of something moving toward them.

Eris's breath caught. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it.

They moved fast, careful of more traps, shielding themselves with common magic.

By the time they reached the ruin, their bodies ached from the horrors they had faced. Cinder had healed the worst of their injuries, but exhaustion clung to them like a second skin.

"This is it," Aven murmured.

Before them stood a towering ruin—a grand temple reduced to fractured stone and twisting roots.

Eris exhaled, stepping closer. "Then let's see what secrets it's hiding."

---

The Sealed Door

Faded carvings lined the walls, depicting figures weaving threads into the sky. At the center stood a polished obsidian door, untouched by time. Symbols—some matching their map—were etched into the frame.

Aven ran her fingers over the markings. "This is a weaving puzzle," she murmured. "The wards are layered. If we don't thread them correctly, we'll trigger a trap."

Ash exhaled sharply. "No pressure, then."

Eris studied the symbols. The map's clue echoed in her head:

"Where the first weave bends time, the crystal shall awaken. In the ruin's shadow, the path is clear. Only the first must lead the way."

Her gaze flickered to Ash. First weave bends time… Could it mean time magic?

"Stand here," she told him, pointing to a spot near the door.

Ash frowned but obeyed. The moment his foot touched the stone, the symbols shimmered, shifting like ink bleeding into water. A pattern emerged—glowing threads interlacing in an intricate web.

Aven's eyes sharpened. "I see it now." Silver strands extended from her fingertips, tracing the weave. "It's unstable. If I pull the wrong way—"

"Then don't," Ash muttered.

Eris traced the threads, sensing their structure. It needed a guide, a purpose.

She inhaled and reached out, sketching faint patterns in the air, nudging the weave where it resisted. Aven's threads adjusted in response, flowing smoothly.

Aven's concentration deepened. "It's working…"

Ash's time magic responded, steadying the shifting weave.

The threads trembled, then snapped into place.

The door opened.

---

The Crystal Cove

Beyond the door lay a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in darkness. Glowing crystals jutted from the ground and walls, casting fractured light across the space.

In the center stood a pedestal with a medium-sized hole—where the crystal would fit.

Something felt off.

The ruin was too still, too silent. No echoes. No shifting dust. Just an unnatural quiet pressing against Eris's skin.

They had been so focused on the puzzle and the cove that they hadn't noticed it sooner.

Cinder stepped closer. "I have a bad feeling about this."

An obsidian door opposite them lurched open. It had previously been obscured by some sort of illusionary magic of some sort.

Darkness spilled out. And then came the screams as the first Hollow lunged from the shadows.

Eris barely dodged as it slashed at her, its claws cutting through the air with a sickening hum.

Aven's threads snapped forward, wrapping around its limbs. "They're fast!" she hissed.

Ash moved instinctively, his presence causing the world around him to slow. He ducked under an incoming strike and time-shifted just enough to land a precise counterblow.

Another Hollow emerged, then another. Five in total.

"We need to end this fast," Eris said, already sketching patterns in the air. The moment she did, the battlefield shifted—her creativity twisting the terrain. The ground beneath the Hollows warped, creating uneven footholds that forced them to stumble.

Cinder's hands glowed as she pressed them to Aven's shoulder. "Hold steady." Aven's movements sharpened, her reaction time enhanced.

Eris grinned. A healer really did change the game.

Two Hollows came at Ash. He exhaled sharply, time bending around him in bursts. He weaved between them, moving just before they struck, their attacks always a second too late.

Aven's threads wrapped around another Hollow, splitting into finer strands that cut through its form like knives.

Eris saw an opening. She created a burst of light, her ability shaping a glowing sigil in midair. The moment the Hollow turned toward her, she twisted the light into a spear and launched it.

It hit.

The creature shrieked, its body unraveling into nothing.

Three left.

Ash froze time for a split second, just enough for Aven to redirect her threads and for Eris to strike the second Hollow's weak spot.

The third leaped at Cinder, but she raised a barrier—not a physical one, but a shimmering pulse of life energy. When the Hollow touched it, its form twisted violently, its unnatural existence rejecting the magic.

It collapsed, fading into dust.

The last Hollow hesitated. Then it let out a deafening, inhuman wail.

The ruins trembled.

"Not good," Ash muttered.

Cracks spiderwebbed through the stonewalls as something bigger stirred beneath them.

Eris swallowed hard. The door had been just the beginning.

And whatever was waking up inside the ruin… was far worse.

Aven reacted first, "Run".

They dashed out of the ruin as fast as their legs could carry them. Behind them were growls of anger from a beastlike creature.

Shadows twisted and stretched in their peripheral vision, but they pressed on without pause. Every step felt heavier, the air colder, as if unseen eyes watched their every move.

Then—Cinder stumbled.

Her gasp was sharp, strangled. Her foot snagged on something unseen, and suddenly, she was jerked back. The others turned just in time to see her fall, her hands clawing at the ground. A dark tendril of mist had coiled around her ankle, tightening.

She struggled, but it held firm.

Aven hesitated, eyes flickering between Cinder and the encroaching danger. Ash cursed under his breath. There was no time—

Eris moved first.

Without thinking, she pivoted, sigils creating a dagger which flashed as she slashed through the mist. The dark tendril shuddered and loosened, recoiling as if in pain. Cinder scrambled forward, nearly toppling over.

Eris caught her arm, yanking her upright.

"No stopping," she snapped. "Run."

Cinder nodded breathlessly. They bolted forward, rejoining the others as the mist churned violently behind them. No time for thanks. No time to question what almost happened.

They kept running.

Thankfully, they made it out in time although they were exhausted.

They stumbled into the open air, lungs burning, the ruins at their backs. The world outside was cold, but after the suffocating pressure of the beast's domain, it felt almost too vast, too empty.

Panting, Cinder finally spoke. "Now what? We know where the crystal is, but that thing is still in there."

Eris nodded. "We need reinforcements."

"Orlen might have already found the crystal," Aven said. "That guy knows his stuff."

They soon made their way back although they paused by the forest—gathering more nightroots to turn in for more coins. They were useful after all.

By the time they reached the village, it was nightfall.

"Do you think we will be punished for not going to the Weaver's bode today?" Cinder asked.

"It's a game mechanic," Aven started.

"The Weaver would just repeat the same lesson like a robot till the Woven Festival," Aven explained further.

When they returned, Orlen and two others were standing in a corner in a deep conversation in the lodge.

Gray and one other person was missing - probably dead. Nobody questioned them about their whereabouts.

It had become a norm for people to die everyday here.

Aven approached them and they followed behind her.

"We want to find out if you guys have figured out where the crystal is? We've found the crystal cove," she was straightforward.

"Yes," Orlen's response was brief.

"That's good news but the crystal cove is being guarded by a beast so we might need to bypass or kill it to get in there"

"Describe the creature"

Aven described the beast and Orlen listened attentively.

Orlen leaned against the lodge's wooden frame, arms crossed, his sharp eyes flickering between them as Aven spoke. He listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable. When she finished describing the beast, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head slightly, as if weighing his words.

"That's a Dusk Maw," he said, voice low and even. "You don't fight something like that. Not unless you want to die screaming."

Aven frowned. "So it's dangerous—"

"It's worse than dangerous," Orlen cut in, his tone edged with impatience. "It doesn't hunt like normal creatures. It doesn't need eyes—it senses you. Every movement, every breath. Even if you stand perfectly still, it can taste the shift in the air around you."

Ash's jaw tightened. "So it's blind, but not really?"

Orlen let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "No. It's worse. It sees through absence. The darker it gets, the clearer you become to it. You ever feel something watching you in pitch black? That's because it was."

Eris tensed. "And how do we kill something like that?"

Orlen's gaze flickered toward her, assessing. He didn't answer right away, rolling his shoulders as if shrugging off some unseen weight. Finally, he said, "With light woven into form."

Ash narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

Orlen sighed, rubbing his temple like he was dealing with children. "Meaning, a torch won't do shit. It has to be controlled light. Intent matters. A flare spell, a crafted construct weave—something with purpose. Otherwise, you're just casting shadows, and that makes it stronger."

Aven crossed her arms. "And I'm guessing you know how to do that?"

A smirk tugged at Orlen's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course I do. But we need someone else."

He glanced at Eris. "We have you. I can make sure it isn't dark with my flames and you can use constructs to cage it in."

Eris's fingers twitched. Creativity through light. That was her power. Shaping illusions, forming barriers, weaving constructs into existence. But against something that thrived in darkness?

Eris swallowed. "What if I fail?"

Orlen eyes twitched, "Then the others will help too. My flames will make it easier, but they won't last forever. Ash can hold it back with time magic, but even that has its limits."

She exhaled. "Then I'll have to be fast."

Orlen chuckled. "Fast, clever, and precise."

Eris breathed in. This was her first key role in a battle plan.

Failure wasn't an option.