The Ashen Pass narrowed until it became a knife-edge trail, winding its way through a landscape long dead and rarely disturbed. The morning sun had failed to breach the gloom, hidden behind the sheer stone faces that loomed like gray monoliths over the path. A fine ash covered the ground, coating boots and cloaks, drifting through the air with every step like the ghost of a long-dead fire.
The terrain was like nothing Cael had seen before—windswept, scorched, and silent. The stone was dark and brittle beneath their feet, fractured with spiderweb cracks that glowed faintly with the pulse of buried essence. Some ancient battle had broken the land here, and time had not healed it.
They passed the remains of forgotten shrines carved directly into the mountainside—worn idols whose faces were erased by centuries of storms and heat. Cael reached out to touch one. The stone burned hot, even though no sun had touched it in hours.
"It feels... angry," Fen murmured, eyes scanning the horizon.
"Like everything else here," Cael muttered.
As they neared the top of the ridge, the air changed. The wind stilled, and a deep, low thrum echoed beneath their boots like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. Then, they saw it.
Beyond a crumbling arch of blackened stone, the path widened into a plateau—flat and windless, surrounded by cliffs on three sides. And in the center stood the ruins of a fortress, long broken. Towers had collapsed in on themselves, walls slumped and blackened from fire. But something moved among the wreckage.
A massive figure, crouched low and still at first. It shimmered with heat—stone fused with molten veins that glowed deep orange through cracks in its hide. Its head was shaped like a wolf's skull stretched over a bear's frame, horns spiraling back like twisted roots. Red eyes opened, burning like twin suns.
It saw them.
And it moved.
"Down!" Cael shouted.
The creature lunged, tearing across the stone on all fours with a speed that defied its size. Cael dove to the side, rolled to his feet, and drew his blades in a single fluid motion. Fen scattered to the right, circling wide with a hand already on a throwing knife.
The guardian slammed into the earth where Cael had just been standing, sending up a spray of molten rock and ash. The ground cracked and hissed. Its claws left glowing gouges in the stone.
Cael moved.
He dashed forward, slashing low at the creature's foreleg. The blade bit deep into stone—but not deep enough. The guardian didn't bleed. It hissed steam instead, and spun with terrifying agility, swiping a burning claw toward Cael's head.
He ducked, slid beneath the beast's body, and came up on the other side, swinging upward—this time striking one of the glowing fissures along its flank. The cut sparked, and the guardian roared in pain.
"Hit the glowing cracks!" Cael yelled.
"I'm not blind, thanks!" Fen shouted back, already in motion.
He threw a dagger that pierced the back of the guardian's thigh—right in one of the glowing seams. The creature stumbled for half a second.
But then it bellowed—a sound like breaking mountains—and surged toward Fen.
"Move!" Cael shouted.
Fen barely dodged the swipe. The beast followed with its other claw, catching him in the side and hurling him backward into a pile of broken stone. He hit hard and didn't move.
Cael's heart froze.
He charged, yelling to draw its attention. The guardian turned, jaws opening with a blast of superheated breath that melted a patch of stone where Cael had just been. He darted through the wreckage, blades spinning in wide arcs, carving burning lines across its forelegs.
It snapped at him—missed—then brought both fists down in a crushing slam.
Cael threw himself sideways, tumbled across the ground, and came up coughing. Heat scorched his skin. The creature was relentless, its fury growing with each blow.
Then—Fen moved.
He rose from the rubble, bleeding from his temple, but alive. He gritted his teeth, pulled two more knives, and sprinted up a low slope of stone behind the guardian.
"Cael! Now!"
Cael understood instantly.
He ran forward again, ducking low beneath another claw, feinting left, then right. He slashed one of the guardian's back legs to draw its attention. It turned.
And Fen leapt from above, twin daggers driving down into the beast's spine where a great glowing fault split its hide.
The creature howled in agony. It reared up onto its hind legs—and Cael saw his chance.
He jumped.
With both blades in hand, Cael lunged for the guardian's chest. He struck one glowing seam beneath its ribs—plunged both weapons deep, twisting until the light flared like a dying star.
The beast slammed down onto all fours—but staggered.
It was weakening.
Steam and smoke poured from its wounds now. Molten essence bubbled at its mouth. It let out one final roar and charged blindly.
Cael and Fen split apart.
It missed both.
But its momentum carried it straight into a broken wall of obsidian. The force of the collision cracked the stone. The wall shuddered.
Then collapsed—burying the guardian in a mountain of rubble and fire.
Silence.
Only the sound of crumbling rock, and their breathing.
Cael collapsed to one knee, gasping.
Fen leaned against a boulder, face pale and streaked with blood.
"Is it dead?" he asked.
Cael stared at the pile of rubble. Then, slowly, the glow faded from beneath it. The heat cooled.
"I think so," he said, voice hoarse.
They didn't move for a long time.
When Cael finally stood, his legs trembled. His arms ached. His blades were notched and scorched.
But they were alive.
"That… was not part of the plan," Fen groaned.
"We didn't have a plan."
"Maybe we should start having plans."
"Good idea."
They found shelter beneath an overhanging ridge, away from the heat still radiating from the beast's corpse. Cael stripped off his armor to treat the burns on his shoulder, while Fen wrapped a bandage around his ribs.
Neither spoke for a long while.
Then Cael broke the silence.
"Back there… you took a big risk."
Fen looked up, one eye bruised but steady. "So did you."
Cael smiled faintly. "Thanks."
The wind returned at last, whistling gently through the pass. The sun began to set behind the mountains, painting the sky in streaks of amber and crimson.
They watched the horizon together.
Tomorrow, they would cross into the Sirdel Salt Flats—a place with no shade, no water, and few landmarks save for the bones of those who failed their trials. But tonight, they had survived.
And for now, that was enough.