A crushing pain split Raine's skull as if cleaved by a great axe, spreading along every nerve.
He groaned, eyelids heavy as lead.
Flickering shadows danced before his eyes—leaping firelight.
The dry air smelled of earth and tree roots, with a faint, uncanny sweetness beneath it.
He flexed his fingers; a bone‑deep weakness surged through him like marrow being drawn away, leaving only an empty shell.
Fragments of memory flooded in:
The fetid swamp, those slimy tentacles, the cold malice.
And then… losing control.
Starfire roared unchecked inside him, tearing everything apart and devouring his reason.
He glimpsed the madness in his own eyes—this was not himself.
A cold dread like an icy tide washed over him. He nearly… nearly succumbed.
"Awake?"
A calm voice spoke at his side.
Raine turned his head with great effort, his vision focusing on Thalia seated beside the fire. The flames outlined her pale profile. Her gaze remained fathomless, like a dark lake in which no emotion stirred—a calm that now, to Raine, felt unsettling.
She offered him a water skin and a small slab of hard bread. "Drink some water. Eat a bit."
Her tone was soft, and even her movements carried a subtle stiffness.
Raine accepted the water, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. He looked to Thalia, wanting to ask how they'd escaped, whether she'd been hurt, what he'd done when he'd lost control—but the words died on his tongue. Instead, he lowered his head and nibbled at the bread. His stomach was empty, and he had no appetite.
Guilt coiled around his heart like a serpent. He had not protected his companions; he'd become their greatest burden, perhaps even a danger.
Only the crackle of the campfire filled the cave.
Karriion sat facing away from them, by the entrance, polishing his battered warhammer. His broad back was like a silent mountain.
"I'm going outside to scout."
Thalia rose slowly, not glancing at Raine, and slipped into the tunnel's shadows. Karriion looked up, watched her go, then set down his hammer. He shifted over and sat beside Raine; the earth trembled slightly beneath his weight.
"Boy." Karriion's voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, unusually grave. The mingled scent of sweat, soil, and faint iron hung about him. "That witch… she's no ordinary sorceress."
Raine lifted his head to the dwarf's weatherworn face, the firelight dancing in Karriion's deep-set eyes.
"She's powerful—very powerful—but look at her now." Karriion nodded toward the tunnel mouth. "Every time she uses that power, it drains her unbelievably. That's not the usual toll of magic."
Raine's heart sank. He recalled the all-consuming black vortex in the swamp and its chilling authority—nothing like any magic he'd ever known.
"And," Karriion continued, "she cares about you… a lot." He chose his words carefully. "We're just traveling companions, right? But she saved you at any cost. That's not something a mere ally does."
His words struck Raine like a stone thrown into still water, stirring painful ripples. He remembered Thalia's ever‑steady gaze, the fleeting hints of complex emotions behind it, and how she'd repeatedly placed herself between him and danger. A dwarf's instinct is keener than any blade.
"I don't know what secrets she keeps," Karriion rumbled, "but as long as she doesn't betray us, we'll work with her. For now." He fixed Raine with a sharp look. "But you—be on your guard."
Raine nodded in silence, understanding in full.
Karriion exhaled heavily and leaned back against the gnarled root wall. "My home, Hearthstone Hold, was swallowed by corruption." His voice turned low, pained. "Our mighty mountain fortress reduced to a wasteland of black ichor. My kin—dead or scattered."
His fist clenched until his knuckles whitened. "I joined you lot not just to chase some damned rumor of the Fallen Star City. I'm here to find a way to fight this blight! To forge the weapons that'll slay those wretched Void‑throats!"
His tone burned with searing hatred. "Void‑throats and their lackeys are our shared enemy. On that, you have my unshakable trust."
Raine met the dwarf's blazing gaze. Indeed—whatever secrets Thalia harbored, they all opposed the same darkness now devouring Aetheria.
Karriion steadied himself. From a battered leather satchel he drew out a yellowed parchment and unrolled it before Raine. Stenciled in charcoal and mineral pigments was an intricate blueprint: a sword.
Its blade was long and elegant yet bore the sturdy heft unique to dwarven craft. Runes clustered densely along the hilt and guard like stars across a night sky. Most striking were interlocking energy conduits etched into the blade's core—far beyond Raine's ken.
"This is the initial design for the Star‑flame Blade," Karriion explained, pointing to the diagram he'd pieced together from ancient dwarven lore and scattered clues. "Legend says only one weapon can truly wound the heart of corruption, seal away the darkest shadows."
He tapped the blade's central network of conduits. "It must be guided by purest starfire, empowered by a dual mastery of guardianship and shadow‑bane runes. And the catalyst…"
Karriion's gaze bore into Raine. "Is star‑blood."
Raine's heart thundered. Star‑blood—his own blood.
"Legend holds that only a star‑descended lineage can bear and channel that primal, untainted power," Karriion said, voice low and weighty. "Your blood may be our only hope to turn the tide."
Raine stared at the sword's potent outline, then at his own frail form and the starfire that both empowered and endangered him. He realized how Karriion's oath—not just revenge but the defense of all ruined homesteads—dwarfed even his own quest for family truth.
A grave responsibility settled upon him like iron. To oppose those Void‑throats and their blight required far more than mere survival.
"I understand." Raine's voice was hoarse but resolute.
At that moment, Thalia's footsteps echoed back into the cave. Karriion swiftly rolled up the blueprint and stashed it away. He patted Raine's shoulder with deliberate force. "Rest and recover, boy. The road ahead is long."
Thalia entered bearing fragrant herbs. She cast a cursory glance at Raine and Karriion before tending a simmering brew. The cave fell silent once more—but now that quiet carried the weight of Karriion's oath, Raine's newfound resolve, and Thalia's unspoken sacrifice.
Beyond their flickering firelight lay corruption's endless night—and a single spark of hope reborn.