Chapter 58

Lady Freja drifted ahead, her feet never grazing the fractured ground as she moved across the Deep Nether in a controlled current of wind. Pyre followed at a steady jog, his Sigil casting blips of light across the broken terrain. The two soon reached a jagged landmass that rose into a low plateau, its edges cratered from the recent devastation.

Pyre paused and glanced back, aligning himself once again. The Unmoored’s beacon burned steady in the distance, a thin blue-green pillar against the dark.

“Don’t worry,” Lady Freja said as she descended. “I will get you back to your gate as well.”

“Daedalus must have really done you a favor.”

“He did, but that is not the only reason I am helping you. The Shepherd and I are old”—she searched for the right word for a moment—“acquaintances. I am certain he did not bring the three of you out here to lose you to the Deep Nether. It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone.” She gestured toward the plateau. “Balefor is on the other side.”

“Alive?” Pyre shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“Let’s see for ourselves.” Lady Freja flicked one of her handfans, and a soft current of wind wrapped around Pyre’s waist and shoulders. His boots left the ground; he stiffened automatically, not certain of how to move forward.

“I won’t drop you,” she said calmly.

They crested the plateau to find Balefor on the other side, roaring as he cleaved through a pack of smaller shadowyrms. The creatures writhed and twisted, elongated bodies snapping and recoiling with feral hunger.

“About time!” Balefor bellowed as he split one in half. Pyre saw it clearly now—his Sigil was wobbling, its form unstable.

Lady Freja snapped one fan outward. Arcs of compressed wind sliced through three shadowyrms at once, their bodies parting cleanly before dissolving. “You’re welcome,” she said lightly.

Balefor snorted a laugh, even as his greataxe flickered. “Thanks! I thought I was hallucinating when I heard your voice. It just so turns out I’m not crazy.”

Pyre dropped beside him, white fire igniting along the edge of his blade, dense and nearly solid as it sheared through the nearest shadowyrm.

“You actually did it!” Balefor said as Pyre stepped into the next one, his blade carving clean through its neck. “And that’s not the only thing that’s new.”

“The ash. I know.” Pyre turned, driving the blade through another writhing body before it could rise.

“The ash?” Balefor asked. “I meant you, Pyre. Your demeanor.”

“I feel calmer,” Pyre admitted as he cut down another shadowyrm. “Clearer than before.”

“I’m sure you do. It makes me hope Kesh has finished his Trial by now, especially if you managed yours so quickly.”

More shadowyrms spilled from the dark, Pyre cutting one down as another took its place.

Balefor exhaled sharply. “I don’t say this often, but we should go. These wretched things aren’t slowing.”

“Yes,” Lady Freja agreed, sweeping her fans outward. Wind coiled around both men and lifted them a few feet. “I will return you both to your—”

The horizon vanished, and the Deep Nether darkened. Pyre felt it before he saw the ancient mass moving toward them, blotting out everything.

The enormous shadowyrm passed overhead, its body stretching beyond sight in either direction as it glided over them and shattered Lady Freja’s wind.

Her grip on Pyre and Balefor snapped, and they fell.

Balefor hit the ground and tried to resummon his greataxe. It spasmed weakly in his grip as smaller shadowyrms surged in immediately, drawn by the disturbance.

“Don’t!” Pyre told him. “Let me handle it!” He spun, flames exploding outward. The fire struck the smaller shadowyrms and incinerated them mid-lunge, forcing a brief clearing around them.

Balefor stared upward. “What in the hell was that thing?”

“A shadowyrm,” Pyre told him as he cut away another one of the monsters.

“Really? That large?”

“It destroyed the realm that was falling.” More shadowyrms pressed in. “Took the realm heart.”

Balefor seemed dumbfounded by the size as the colossal body shifted overhead again. “I have never seen anything so large in my life.”

A massive tail swept past, sending shockwaves across the plateau. The smaller shadowyrms screeched and lunged again, emboldened by the tumult.

Pyre stepped in front of Balefor fully now.

He swung his Sigil again, sending white flames out in a wide arc, carving through three at once, burning them to cinders.

“Just stay behind me!” he said as he advanced toward the beasts, cutting and burning a path through them. Every swing left a halo of heat that forced them back.

The ancient shadowyrm shifted again, directly above them now, its baleen plates lowering like a descending gate.

The sheer breadth of it became clear as it passed overhead once again, an expanse of darkly pale, segmented flesh stretching farther than any creature had a right to exist.

“Run!” Balefor growled, already moving into a sprint.

“Run!” Balefor growled, already breaking into a sprint.

Pyre caught up in seconds. They leapt just as the creature’s vast maw tore through the plateau, whole sections vanishing in a grinding roar. Stone, shadowyrms, and debris disappeared in a single, terrible sweep.

The two were thrown aside and instantly caught by a sudden wind, which wrapped around them and pulled them away from the epicenter.

Lady Freja rushed up beside them, her expression no longer calm. Her fans snapped shut with a sharp crack. “I believe we’ve worn out our welcome. Brace yourselves.”

The wind intensified, and the Deep Nether blurred, landmasses becoming streaks of light, floating debris turned into luminous trails. Pyre felt the speed more than saw it, the world compressing into blips and flashes as they tore across the void faster than thought.

Behind them, the shadowyrm coiled again, massive and inevitable.

As soon as it had picked up, everything around them slowed. The wind softened instantly and they were lowered gently to the ground before Veylan’s protective barrier, the blue-green beacon blazing above them like a final refuge in the dark.

Still in shock, Balefor patted his body, confused as to how they had just moved so quickly.

Pyre turned to thank Lady Freja, but she was already gone. Only a faint ripple in the air remained where she had hovered moments before.

“I never thought I’d know what it feels like to be carried like a leaf in a storm,” Balefor shook himself once. “Thank you, Lady Freja!” he yelled, both hands around his mouth, before turning to Pyre. “Shall we?”

They crossed the threshold of Veylan’s protective barrier together, the veil parting with a soft shimmer before sealing behind them.

“About time!” Ronark barked as they crossed into the barrier. He stood nearby with Tallow on his shoulders, the white cat watching from above.

Marrowsven sat against the sarcophagus, back straight, head bent forward. Veylan adjusted his monocular beside the Shepherd, who paced in tight lines. Irix lingered at the edge of Pyre’s senses, a hum without form. They were joined by someone new, a man in black armor, his exposed skin marked with red streaks.

“Good,” the Shepherd said, turning sharply to Pyre and Balefor, his bushy eyebrows barely covering the concern in his eyes. “You’re here. I saw the wind. Who dropped you off?”

“Lady Freja of the Luminous Concord,” Pyre replied.

“Ah, that would explain it,” the Shepherd said, voice trailing off. “I’ll have to thank her one day.” He shifted his gaze to the knight in black armor. “Everyone should go, you included, Daxon. You’ve been out for far too long.”

Daxon inclined his head slightly. “It has the realm heart. It must be hunted.”

“I’m aware.”

“Wait,” Balefor said, glancing around, counting. His eyes narrowed. “Where’s—”

“Veylan,” the Shepherd said, cutting the lion-man off. “The gate.”

“Yes, it’s ready. Any moment now,” Veylan told him.

The Shepherd’s crook formed in his hand with a low shimmer of light. He turned from them without hesitation and started toward the edge of the barrier.

“Please, don’t,” Irix said, her form wavering into existence.

“Do not stop me,” he told her.

“You’re going to go after the shadowyrm alone?” Ronark called after him. “Are you mad?”

“No,” the Shepherd replied without looking back. “Nothing like that. I’m going to find Sura. At the moment, I couldn’t care less about the shadowyrm or the realm heart.”

“We can help,” Irix said, her voice resonating firmly.

“We can, but we shouldn’t,” Veylan answered for the Shepherd as he stepped in front of the towering man. “We’re running out of Anima. We have injuries and discoveries. We must return to Aevum.”

Ronark let out a low, frustrated growl. “Then we come back. We replenish our Anima, we come back, we find Sura.”

“I will find her,” the Shepherd said with finality. He stepped through the barrier and into the Deep Nether alone, the decision long made.

“Let him go,” Tallow murmured from Ronark’s shoulders.

The dwarf smacked his forehead and rubbed it. “What a bloody disaster.”

“An inconvenience,” Daxon corrected him calmly.

Veylan lifted the monocular, and the ring of light widened into a spiraling aperture. “Compose yourselves. I’m lowering the barrier and summoning the gate. Protect Marrow, the box, and the sarcophagus. It will require only a moment.” His expression tightened. “Though brevity has never guaranteed safety. We will return to Aevum shortly.”

Pyre stepped in front of Marrowsven. Balefor moved to his right, greataxe steady despite the strain. Ronark and Tallow covered one flank, Daxon the other. Irix’s unseen presence heavy around them.

Ash spiraled down Pyre’s arm. His Sigil formed in a rising helix, the broken black blade pulling itself from gray drift before igniting into a dense white flame. It burned without tremor. Without doubt.

He had faced the Hunger twice. Once as prey. Once as a witness.

Others had seen him in turn. Factions. Future enemies.

He would not return to Aevum unnoticed.

Veylan lowered the barrier, the Deep Nether pressing in. As the gate roared to life, Pyre tightened his grip on his Sigil, the white flames rising around him, his Domain settling into place at last as a rage churned within.

Let them come.

The End