My breath caught as soon as Zia spoke. The warmth of the moment between Apolloh and me vanished in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. I looked at him, and he was already tense—brow furrowed, jaw set. His fingers found mine without a word.

  “What is it?” I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

  Zia’s eyes darted between us, her expression tight, shaken. “Just come with me.”

  She turned on her heel, and I didn’t hesitate. Apolloh and I followed her down the hallway, our steps quick, our clasped hands swinging between us. The orphanage felt different now—colder, the lantern light throwing long, uneasy shadows on the stone walls.

  Zia led us through a narrow side door and into the library. The air was thick with the scent of old books and ink. She didn’t stop until we reached the back, where a long table was buried under a messy pile of open tomes and loose pages. One thick volume lay open in front of her, held down by a smooth, pale stone.

  She motioned to the page, her hand visibly trembling. “This,” she said, her voice low and urgent, “this isn’t just about the stone being ancient. It’s something else. It’s a key.”

  I leaned closer, my pulse quickening. A key? To what?

  “What do you mean?” I asked, scanning the page in front of her. The text was in a language I didn’t recognize at first—faded symbols with sharp edges and looping curls. But it looked familiar, somehow. Like something I’d seen before, maybe in a dream.

  Zia tapped the edge of the page. “It took me hours to cross-reference this with the older volumes in the back. But once I found this script,” she pointed to a section in the margins, “I realized it wasn’t just decorative—it’s part of a translation system. And this,” she slid another book forward, the spine cracked and barely holding together, “confirms it.”

  Apolloh stepped up beside me, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the text. “What’s it unlocking?”

  Zia hesitated. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Something buried. Something protected. The stone isn’t just a symbol—it’s an anchor. A seal.”

  “A seal?” I repeated, my mouth suddenly dry.

  She nodded. “There’s a passage here. It talks about an ancient entity, bound long ago to prevent it from merging with the physical world. It needed something solid to keep it tethered. That’s the stone. But if the wrong person knows how to use it—if they break the seal—”

  “They could bring it back,” Apolloh finished, his voice cold.

  Zia met our eyes. “I think that figure we saw in the dream… they’re not trying to destroy the stone. They’re trying to free what’s behind it.”

  A chill spread through me, settling in my spine. I stared at the books, but the words were starting to blur. “So… all this time, we thought the figure wanted the stone for its power. But it’s not about wielding it. It’s about breaking it.”

  Zia nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “And I think they’re close. That’s why the dreams are getting stronger. The figure is reaching out. Maybe even testing the limits of the seal.”

  Apolloh rested a hand on the table, leaning in. “Do we know what’s sealed away?”

  Zia hesitated—just long enough for my stomach to twist.

  “There’s no name,” she said finally. “Just descriptions. It’s called ‘the Hollowed One’ in some places. ‘The First Silence’ in others. One passage described it as ‘a soul without shape, craving form.’ Another called it ‘the echo that waits behind all things.’” She looked up at me, her eyes haunted. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong here.”

  A heavy silence fell over us.

  “I think,” Zia added softly, “the stone was created to lock it out. Not just from our world—but from us. Our minds. Our dreams. Our bloodlines.”

  My fingers curled over my stomach without thinking. Apolloh noticed. His hand moved to cover mine.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  Zia looked down at the books, then back at me. “We need to find out where the seal was cast. The original site. If the figure’s trying to break the stone, they’ll go there. And if we don’t get there first—”

  “It’ll be free,” Apolloh said. “The Hollowed One.”

  Zia’s lips parted like she was about to say more, but her eyes flicked to the side. She hesitated—just for a second—and I caught it.

  “What is it?” I asked, my voice a little sharper than I meant.

  She looked down, fingers brushing over the edge of the page like she needed to steady herself. “There’s more,” she said, almost under her breath. “I didn’t want to bring it up until I was sure, but… I found something else. Something about you.”

  My breath caught.

  Apolloh’s grip on my hand tightened just slightly. “Laika?” he said, glancing at me.

  Zia pulled out a folded piece of parchment from beneath one of the older books. The ink was nearly faded to dust, but she’d underlined a few lines in graphite. She unfolded it with care, laying it flat on the table. I leaned in—and saw my name.

  Not just Laika, but the full name my mother had whispered to me only once when I was very young. A name I hadn’t told anyone.

  My heart skipped.

  “How did you—”

  “It was buried in a record of bloodlines tied to the seal,” Zia said quickly, her words tumbling out. “I don’t think the Hollowed One was just sealed away by magic—it was sealed by blood. A line of guardians, bound generation after generation to protect the stone, to keep the lock closed.”

  I stared at her, my pulse pounding.

  “You’re part of that line, Laika,” Zia said. “You’re not just connected to the stone. You’re the key to keeping it sealed.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The air around me felt thick, like the library had shrunk, like the stone walls were pressing in. My gaze stayed locked on the parchment—on my name—but it was like I wasn’t even in my body anymore. A thousand memories scattered through my mind like leaves in a storm. My mother’s voice. The dreams. The figure. The strange, aching pull I’d always felt toward the stone, even before I knew what it was.

  It wasn’t random. It was me. It had always been me.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I whispered. My voice cracked at the end, and I wasn’t sure who I was talking to. Zia. Apolloh. The universe. Myself.

  “I didn’t want to be a key. I didn’t want—” My hand drifted to my belly again. The baby shifted beneath my palm, and the sensation grounded me just enough to stop the spiral.

  I looked at Zia, my eyes burning. “What if I’m not strong enough?”

  Before she could answer, Apolloh stepped in close. His presence was steady—solid. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, gently pulling me into him. His lips brushed against the side of my head as he spoke.

  “You don’t have to be strong alone.”

  I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. There was no fear in his eyes—just quiet determination.

  “If this is your bloodline,” he said, “then it’s our family. We protect it. Together. And if someone’s trying to break that seal, then they’ll have to go through me first.”

  I leaned into him, letting myself breathe again.

  Zia cleared her throat softly. “There’s one more thing,” she said. “I think the figure… it knows who you are, Laika. And if it’s figured out what I just did—what you are—then it’s not just after the stone anymore.”

  A silence fell over the room like a dropped curtain.

  “It’s after you,” she said. “And maybe the baby too.”

  The words hung there, heavy and cold. I felt Apolloh’s arms tighten around me, like his body had instinctively gone into protection mode. My thoughts spiraled—through every dream, every strange flicker of presence I’d felt just beyond the veil of sleep, every time I’d woken with that lingering feeling of being watched.

  It had been circling us this whole time. Me. My child.

  I straightened, pulling in a slow breath. “Then we can’t just wait around.”

  “No,” Zia agreed. “We can’t.”

  Apolloh stepped around me, his hand never leaving mine. “Tell us what you need. We’re not running—we’re going to stop this thing before it gets any closer.”

  Zia nodded and gestured to the far end of the table. “I’ve started piecing together references to where the original seal might’ve been cast. It’s scattered, hidden in metaphors and rewritten myths, but I’m close. Give me a little more time and I’ll have a location.”

  “And once we have that,” I said, my voice steadier now, “we go. We finish what started generations ago.”

  Zia moved like she’d been holding her breath this entire time and could finally exhale. Her hands swept across the books with a mix of precision and desperation, flipping pages, cross-referencing ink-smeared notes and hand-scrawled bookmarks. Her lips moved silently as she read, scanning for connections, tracing phrases with the tip of her finger.

  I watched her from across the table, stunned at how quickly she shifted back into researcher mode—like she could shut out the fear just long enough to do what needed to be done.

  “The seal’s location is hidden in allegory,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “No clear names, no coordinates. But here—” she tapped a passage in one book, then pulled another closer—“this one describes ‘a place where sky and earth forget their division, and the silence listens.’ That same phrase appears three times. Different eras. Different authors. Same imagery.”

  Apolloh frowned. “Sounds like a mountaintop.”

  Zia nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. A high-altitude place, maybe sacred. Quiet. Remote. Somewhere ancient enough to be forgotten.”

  She reached into a satchel and pulled out a rolled parchment—a map, old and cracked at the edges. She spread it across the table and began circling areas, tracing borders and elevations. “If I cross-reference the myths and line them up with geological markers from this era… it narrows it down to three locations.”

  She pointed to a cluster of jagged peaks in the north. “This one’s the most likely. It’s the highest. And the most isolated.”

  I leaned in. “Then that’s where we go.”

  ~~~

  Later that evening, the library had quieted again, but our room was far from it.

  Apolloh moved around me, gathering supplies—packs, flint, extra cloth, a worn blade he hadn’t touched in months. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing slow circles over my bump as I tried to focus on folding a blanket, but my mind kept drifting.

  “I know that look,” he said gently, dropping beside me. “You’re thinking too far ahead again.”

  “I can’t help it,” I admitted, not looking up. “We don’t know what we’re walking into. Or if we’ll be enough.”

  “You are enough,” he said firmly. “And we’re not walking in alone. We’ll have each other. We’ll have Zia. Maybe even the pups if they insist on sneaking after us.”

  That made me smile—just a little. “You know Jaxe won’t let us leave without him.”

  “And Zia’s already packing like we’ll be gone for a month,” he added with a grin.

  He reached for my hand again and pressed it against my belly, just as the baby gave a soft, rolling kick.

  I leaned into him, our foreheads touching. “I’m scared,” I whispered.

  “So am I,” he whispered back. “But we’re not stopping. Not now.”

  Just as Apolloh and I sat in silence, the soft padding of paws could be heard in the hallway. The sound was faint at first, then grew louder—too familiar to ignore. It wasn’t long before the door creaked open just enough for two tiny figures to peek through the crack.

  It was Kailaa and Elias, the pups who had been following us around for days. Kailaa’s fur was a deep brown with streaks of gold, while Elias, the smaller one, had darker fur that seemed to shimmer with every movement. Their eyes were wide, brimming with excitement, and they immediately bounded into the room as though they knew they’d found the perfect moment.

  Before I could say anything, Kailaa leaped onto the bed and landed beside me with a soft thud. Elias followed quickly, darting around the room, his tail wagging furiously. They were practically vibrating with energy, tails swishing and paws tapping against the floor in the most adorable way.

  Apolloh chuckled as Kailaa nudged his hand, inviting him to join in. She wasn’t shy—she was already wriggling playfully at his feet, looking up at him expectantly. Elias, just as eager, started jumping around me in circles, wagging his tail so hard it looked like it might fall off.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as Elias tried to leap up onto the bed, but he missed and ended up tumbling into my lap. His little yelp made me giggle, and I gently scratched behind his ears as he squirmed playfully.

  “You two are relentless,” Apolloh said with a grin, reaching down to gently ruffle Kailaa’s fur. She seemed to enjoy the attention, wriggling her body into his touch like a puppy that couldn’t get enough affection.

  Elias, still in my lap, gave a playful growl as he pawed at my hands, as though daring me to keep playing. I reached down and began to gently tickle him, his tiny body wriggling with joy.

  “They have no idea how to stop,” I said, laughing as Elias squirmed beneath my fingers. “But they sure know how to make things feel lighter.”

  Apolloh laughed, his gaze softening as Kailaa playfully tugged at his sleeve. “I think I’m outnumbered,” he said, leaning back against the bed. “But I suppose we could all use a little distraction before we leave.”

  We spent a few more minutes with the pups, laughing and playing as the world outside felt just a little bit further away. Their joy was contagious, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more ready for the journey ahead, despite the weight of it all.

  The room felt warm, filled with laughter and the soft rustle of paws as Kailaa and Elias continued their playful antics. Apolloh and I, caught in their infectious energy, couldn’t help but smile as the pups worked to draw us in further.

  Kailaa rolled onto her back, legs flailing as she invited Apolloh to play. He hesitated for a moment, his usual calm demeanor almost at odds with the playful challenge in her eyes. But then he leaned forward, a smirk tugging at his lips. He knelt beside her, pretending to “attack” her with exaggerated movements, causing her to wriggle and bark with joy, her tail swishing like a blur.

  Elias, still in my lap, wriggled up to my shoulder, his little paws batting gently at my hair as though it were a toy. I laughed, brushing him away playfully, only for him to dive back in with even more determination. It felt as though the weight of the journey, the stone, the looming figure, all faded into the background for these few precious moments. The world outside could wait—right now, there was only the sound of the pups’ laughter, the warmth of Apolloh’s smile, and the soft hum of contentment in the air.

  I leaned back against the bed, letting Elias rest against me as Kailaa shifted closer to Apolloh, still nudging him with the persistent energy only a pup could muster. Apolloh, grinning from ear to ear, finally gave in. He scooped her up and playfully tossed her onto the bed, making her squeal with excitement.

  “You’re impossible,” I teased, watching them both with a tender affection. “But I’m not complaining.”

  Apolloh caught his breath, his chest rising and falling from laughing. He reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His eyes softened as he took in the scene—the pups, the shared smiles, the warmth that filled the room.

  “Maybe we should take a bit longer,” he said, his voice quieter, the playfulness fading for just a moment.

  I met his gaze and smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. The journey ahead would be long and filled with unknowns, and even if it was just for a few more minutes, this—this moment with him, with the pups—was something I didn’t want to let go of just yet.

  For a few more minutes, we stayed in the warmth of the room, letting Kailaa and Elias tire themselves out. The world outside would always be there, but here and now, we were simply… together.

  The next day arrived with a quiet sense of inevitability. The sun had barely risen when I woke, the pups still curled up between Apolloh and me. It was rare to wake up to such stillness in the midst of all the chaos we’d been facing lately. I lay there for a moment, just listening to the soft breathing of the pups, the steady rhythm of Apolloh’s heartbeat beside me.

  But the calm was fleeting. The time had come.

  “Time to go,” I said softly, my voice just above a whisper. Apolloh stirred beside me, his hand brushing against mine in acknowledgment.

  We both moved quietly, careful not to disturb the pups as we gathered the last of our things. The weight of the packs settled on our backs as we stood, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the weight of our purpose pressing firmly into my chest.

  But we had one last stop before we could leave.

  Apolloh turned to me as he adjusted his pack. “We can’t leave them here. Not like this.”

  I nodded in agreement. The pups had followed us this far, and while we couldn’t take them with us on this journey, we needed to make sure they were safe before we left.

  We moved quietly, gathering the pups from their slumber and gently waking them. Kailaa stretched first, her body unfurling like a spring. Elias stirred next, yawning widely before nuzzling against me. Both seemed content, unaware of the quiet decision we’d just made.

  “Come on, you two,” Apolloh said softly, his voice full of affection as he scooped Kailaa up in his arms. I gently lifted Elias, his tiny weight light in my arms.

  With the pups settled, we headed down the hall and out into the cool morning air. The journey to the orphanage was quiet, but the weight of it hung in the air between us. It wasn’t just the journey we were leaving behind; it was the pups’ safety, their future, that we had to consider.

  When we reached the orphanage, the familiar sights greeted us. The caretaker, an older woman with kind eyes, stood at the door, as if expecting us.

  “I’m sorry for the disruption,” I said softly, setting Elias down and holding him close as I spoke. “But we can’t take them with us. It’s too dangerous.”

  The caretaker nodded understandingly, her gaze soft as she knelt to greet the pups. “I understand,” she said gently, scratching Elias behind the ears. “They’ll be safe here. You don’t need to worry.”

  Apolloh set Kailaa down and bent to give her a soft pat on the head. “Take care of them,” he said, his voice low but firm. “They’re family.”

  The caretaker smiled, reassuring us both. “They’ll be in good hands.”

  With one last glance at the pups, we turned and made our way toward the fortress doors, where we’d arranged to meet Zia and Jaxe before we left. The sun had risen higher, casting long shadows on the stone courtyard. As we neared the entrance, I could see them standing by the heavy oak doors—Zia, her arms crossed and her eyes scanning the area, clearly waiting for us. Jaxe was standing next to her, his posture casual but alert, as if he were already preparing himself for whatever lay ahead.

  When they saw us, Zia gave a brief nod, uncrossing her arms. Her expression softened slightly, though her focus never wavered. “About time,” she said with a small grin, but her voice was firm. “I’ve already double-checked everything. We’re ready.”

  Apolloh gave her a sharp nod, his expression serious. “Good. We don’t have much time.”

  Zia’s gaze turned toward me briefly, and her tone softened, though there was a certain resolve in it. “We won’t stop until we find answers,” she said, her voice steady.

  Jaxe, standing slightly behind her, added in his usual quiet tone, “The sooner we start, the better.”

  I met Jaxe’s eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. There was no room for hesitation. We had come this far, and the only way forward was to push through the uncertainty.

  Apolloh gave a single nod, his eyes hardening with purpose. “Let’s go then.”

  We all moved together, the fortress doors creaking open as we stepped outside, the world beyond waiting for us. The journey to the northern peaks lay ahead, but in this moment, there was a sense of unity between us all, a silent agreement that we were in this together.

  ~~~

  The road stretched before us, winding through the dense woods and up toward the northern peaks. The cool morning air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, the world around us still waking up. I could hear the soft crunch of gravel underfoot as we moved together, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves and the rhythmic steps of our boots.

  Zia led the way, her figure cutting a steady path through the woods. Apolloh kept close behind her, his pace steady and determined. I walked beside him, keeping my eyes trained on the path ahead, my thoughts swirling with the weight of what we were about to face.

  Behind us, Jaxe trailed, his steps quieter than the rest of ours, but his presence still undeniable. He was always so silent, but somehow his quiet was just as loud as anyone else’s words.

  We hadn’t spoken much since we left the fortress. Everyone was lost in their thoughts, the weight of our purpose settling over us like a thick fog. The path to the northern peaks was treacherous, known for its steep inclines and unpredictable weather, but we had no choice but to push forward.

  Zia broke the silence first, her voice low and purposeful. “We’re getting close. Just a few more miles.”

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  Apolloh gave her a glance, his jaw set tight. “We can’t afford to waste time. Every second counts.”

  “I know,” Zia replied, her tone matching his seriousness. “But we’ll need to be careful. There are things out there—things we haven’t even begun to understand.”

  I glanced at her over my shoulder, my curiosity piqued. “Things?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Zia’s gaze met mine, her expression unreadable. “Things that shouldn’t exist. Not here. Not now. But they’re out there. We’ll see for ourselves soon enough.”

  Her words sent a chill down my spine. Despite the warmth of the day, I felt a shiver creep over me. I wanted to ask more, but the look on Zia’s face told me she wasn’t ready to explain. There was no room for questions. Not yet.

  The rest of the journey passed in quiet determination, the distant peaks looming larger as we moved forward. The terrain began to shift, the forest thinning out, and the air growing colder. As we neared the base of the mountains, I could feel the energy in the air change. The earth felt heavier underfoot, the wind picking up with an eerie chill.

  “Almost there,” Zia said again, her voice cutting through the growing tension.

  I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. We were close. The unknown was waiting, and there was no turning back.

  The path ahead grew steeper as we continued onward, the air thinning with every step we took. I could feel my energy draining faster than usual, the weight of the journey pressing against my body. My legs were sore from the climb, and my breath was coming in heavier gasps than I was used to. It wasn’t the exhaustion of travel that had me concerned—it was something more.

  The pregnancy. It was still early, but the strain of the journey was already beginning to take its toll.

  I tried to push through, to ignore the growing fatigue in my body, but the moment I took a deep breath and felt the familiar ache in my abdomen, I knew it was time. I couldn’t keep pushing myself like this.

  Apolloh must have sensed it before I said anything. He slowed his pace, glancing back at me with a questioning look. “Laika,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “You need a break.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the tightness in my chest and the dizziness I felt in that moment stopped me. I gave him a small, tight smile. “I’m fine,” I tried to say, but the words came out softer than I’d intended.

  Zia, who had been walking ahead, turned at the sound of my voice. Her eyes narrowed with understanding, and she gave me a pointed look. “No, you’re not. We’re stopping.”

  Apolloh’s hand gently touched my shoulder, guiding me to a nearby rock outcrop that offered a decent place to sit. I didn’t argue, too tired to protest. As I lowered myself onto the stone, the cool surface felt like a blessing against my aching body.

  Jaxe came up behind me, wordlessly pulling out a water flask and offering it to me. I took it gratefully, the cool liquid soothing my dry throat.

  “We’ll rest for a bit,” Apolloh said, his tone firm but gentle. “We’ll keep moving soon, but you need to listen to your body.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. The break was necessary, but it was also a reminder of just how much I had to consider now. It wasn’t just my strength I had to rely on anymore.

  We sat in the quiet for a few moments, the sounds of the forest and the distant calls of birds filling the space around us. The tension in my shoulders slowly began to loosen, though my mind remained focused on the journey ahead.

  “We’ll get through this,” Apolloh said softly, his voice just above a whisper as he sat beside me. “Together.”

  I smiled, leaning slightly against him. For a moment, everything felt still, the world pausing in its movement as we took this much-needed break. It was a quiet reassurance, but it was enough to steel me for the challenges that lay ahead.

  Zia and Jaxe stood off a little ways, giving us space to rest. I could feel their eyes on us, though they said nothing. They understood the need for the break, as much as we did.

  After a few more minutes, I stood, feeling stronger despite the lingering fatigue. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said, brushing off the dirt from my pants.

  Apolloh gave me a reassuring smile, though his eyes remained watchful. “We go slow from here. You don’t have to rush.”

  I nodded, the weight of the journey still pressing on my chest, but a little less heavy now. With one last glance at the group, I took a deep breath and began to walk again, knowing the path ahead was long, but not one I would have to walk alone.

  With each step, the mountains loomed closer, their jagged peaks cutting into the sky. The air grew colder, the wind biting at my skin, but I felt better now that I had a moment to rest. The journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but I could feel the resolve growing inside me again, pushing me forward despite the lingering fatigue.

  Apolloh kept pace beside me, his hand brushing mine occasionally, a silent reassurance. The others had fallen into step behind us, Zia and Jaxe moving with practiced ease, their eyes scanning the surrounding terrain with the vigilance that only experience could bring. I knew they were both just as ready as we were to find answers, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the unknown was still waiting for us, something we weren’t fully prepared for.

  We continued on, the path narrowing as we climbed higher. The trees thinned, giving way to more rocky terrain and sparse vegetation. The northern peaks were known for their harshness, and as we ascended, the landscape reflected that. The wind grew stronger, tugging at my clothes and whipping my hair around. My breath began to fog in the air, and each step seemed to take a little more effort than the last.

  “Not much further,” Zia called from behind, her voice cutting through the wind. “We’ll reach the caves before nightfall.”

  I nodded, feeling the weight of her words. The caves were our destination—ancient, hidden places in the mountains where old magic was said to linger. If there was any chance of finding the answers we sought, it was there.

  The journey was starting to take its toll again, the cold seeping into my bones and the climb growing steeper. I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling it, but I was also aware that I couldn’t slow them down. Not now. We were too close.

  Zia noticed me lagging slightly, her gaze sharp as she took in the subtle signs. “Take it easy, Laika,” she said, her tone softer now. “We’ll get there.”

  I didn’t argue, though the determination inside me burned hot. We would reach the caves, even if it took everything I had.

  As the day wore on, the shadows of the mountains grew longer, and the wind carried the promise of an approaching storm. We couldn’t afford to rest again until we reached shelter.

  The climb had begun to take its toll on everyone, the pace slowing as the terrain grew rougher. Apolloh kept a close eye on me, his concern never far from his face, though he said nothing. He knew I wouldn’t stop unless I absolutely had to.

  By the time the caves finally came into view, I was exhausted, but there was a sense of relief in my chest. The entrance loomed ahead—dark and imposing against the rocky cliffs, the shadows within a welcome refuge from the biting cold.

  “We’re here,” Zia announced, her voice filled with quiet relief.

  Apolloh reached out, offering his hand, and I took it gratefully, the strength of his grip grounding me.

  As we crossed the threshold into the caves, the temperature dropped even further, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. The darkness inside was overwhelming, but we had torches that illuminated the path ahead. The light flickered across the walls, revealing faded symbols carved into the stone, remnants of a time long forgotten.

  “Stay close,” Zia said, her voice reverberating off the walls as she stepped deeper into the cave. “This is where it all began.”

  The further we ventured into the cave, the more the outside world seemed to fade away. The sounds of the wind and the rustling trees were replaced by the hollow echo of our footsteps, the distant drip of water from unseen stalactites. The cold inside the cave was oppressive, and even with the torches casting flickering shadows against the walls, there was an unsettling darkness that pressed in on us.

  Zia led the way with purpose, her steps sure and confident as if she’d walked this path many times before. The rest of us followed closely behind, the heavy silence between us only broken by the occasional sound of footsteps scraping against the stone floor.

  The deeper we went, the air grew thick, as though the cave itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. I could feel it in my chest, the strange pull of anticipation—something ancient and powerful was hidden here, something we didn’t fully understand, but desperately needed to.

  Zia stopped suddenly, her body tensing as she held up a hand to signal us to stop. I felt the weight of her gaze, and instinctively, I knew she had found something.

  “Look,” she said quietly, her voice reverberating off the walls of the cave.

  I followed her gaze, my heart skipping a beat as I saw it. Carved into the wall, partially obscured by the shadows, was an intricate series of markings. They weren’t just any markings, though—they were symbols, symbols that looked familiar yet ancient, as if they were older than anything we had encountered.

  “What is this?” I whispered, moving closer to examine the symbols. The language was foreign, but there was something about it that tugged at my memory, something familiar yet elusive.

  Zia stepped forward, her fingers brushing the markings as though she could feel their power. “It’s a warning,” she said softly, almost to herself. “The figure… the stone. They’re connected here. This is where it all started.”

  My pulse quickened as the implications of her words hit me. “What do you mean, where it all started?”

  Zia turned to face me, her expression grim. “These markings tell the story of the stone. The figure you’ve seen—it’s not just some ancient creature. It was once something else, something… human, perhaps, but twisted by the power of the stone. It became a protector, a guardian, bound to the stone’s energy.”

  My mind raced, trying to process her words. A protector? But the figure I had seen in my dreams, in my visions—it hadn’t felt like a protector. It had felt cold, distant, threatening.

  “Then why does it feel like it wants to hurt us?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

  Zia’s gaze darkened. “Because it was never meant to guard anything. It was meant to protect the stone itself, at all costs. And the stone… it’s not just some artifact of power. It’s a conduit, a doorway, to something far worse.”

  The tension in the cave was suffocating now, the air thick with the weight of her words. I glanced over at Apolloh, who had been quiet since we entered the cave. His expression was unreadable, but I knew him well enough to see the flicker of concern in his eyes.

  “We have to stop it,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “We can’t let whatever it is cross over.”

  Zia nodded, the flickering light from the torches casting shadows across her face. “Exactly. But the stone is hidden deeper in these caves. And once we find it, we’ll have to make a choice. One that could change everything.”

  As her words echoed in the cave, a strange chill passed through me, one that wasn’t just from the cold. I looked at the markings on the wall again, my heart pounding as the weight of the decision began to settle in. There was something else here, something beyond the stone, beyond the figure—and I wasn’t sure we were ready for it.

  “I’ll follow you,” I said quietly, looking between Zia and Apolloh. “But we need to be careful. Whatever this is, it’s not just a relic of the past. It’s still alive.”

  Zia met my gaze, her eyes hard with resolve. “It’s not just alive—it’s waiting. And we have to find it before it finds us.”

  We continued on, deeper into the cave. The temperature dropped further as the tunnel grew narrower, the walls closing in on us. The markings on the walls became more frequent, more detailed, like a roadmap to something hidden deep within the cave. I couldn’t shake the feeling that with every step, we were drawing closer to something ancient and dangerous.

  And then, we reached it.

  The chamber opened up ahead, vast and dark, the center illuminated only by the faint light of our torches. In the middle of the room stood a pedestal, its stone surface slick with age and covered in strange carvings—more of the symbols we had seen along the walls. Atop the pedestal rested the stone. It shimmered faintly in the dim light, its surface smooth and dark, as though it absorbed the light around it.

  The air around the stone seemed to hum, a low vibration that made my skin tingle. It was the same energy I had felt before—the same pull that had haunted my dreams.

  “This is it,” Zia said, her voice a whisper. “The source.”

  Apolloh stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the stone. “What do we do now?”

  Zia reached for it, but paused, her hand hovering just above its surface. “We do what we have to. We stop it from spreading.”

  But as she moved closer, the stone began to pulse—faintly at first, then growing stronger with every second. A low, eerie sound filled the room, like a deep growl, and I realized it wasn’t just the stone that was vibrating. It was the entire cave, the walls shifting, as though something was waking up.

  And then, out of the darkness, a figure appeared.

  The shape emerged from the farthest edge of the chamber, its presence swallowing the torchlight, bending the shadows around it. My breath caught in my throat as the darkness seemed to thicken, solidify, taking form—not quite human, not quite beast. The figure moved with a fluid, unnatural grace, as though the air itself parted for it.

  Its body shimmered faintly, like obsidian soaked in moonlight, limbs long and wrong, its head slightly tilted as if it were studying us. No eyes. No features. Just that same humming presence that had haunted my dreams. The same coldness that had followed me like a whisper I could never place.

  I froze.

  So did Apolloh, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance beside me, muscles taut and ready to spring. I could feel his protectiveness radiating off of him, but even he didn’t move yet—not until we knew what this thing would do.

  Zia’s hand closed around the hilt of her dagger, and I saw Jaxe subtly shift his weight forward, ready to intercept.

  The stone on the pedestal pulsed again.

  And the figure stopped.

  Just a few feet away from the stone, it tilted its head further, as though listening to something none of us could hear.

  It didn’t speak—not with words. But I felt it.

  The same way I had in the dream. That strange pull deep in my chest, like a thread being tugged gently but persistently. A voice without sound, pressing into my mind.

  You brought them.

  I staggered a step back, my hand flying to my stomach instinctively.

  Apolloh moved with me, steadying me, but his gaze was locked on the figure.

  “What the hell is that?” he murmured.

  Zia didn’t answer—she couldn’t. Her eyes were wide, and I could see the same recognition I felt mirrored in her expression. This was it. This was what had been watching us, reaching through dreams and symbols and stories etched in stone.

  The stone pulsed again, faster now.

  The figure didn’t move closer.

  Instead, its form began to shift slightly, as though its outline were unraveling—mist spilling from its limbs, seeping into the floor.

  The doorway is open. The tether… weakening.

  I shivered. “It’s trying to cross over.”

  Zia’s voice was strained. “No. It’s already halfway through.”

  “We have to stop it,” Jaxe said, stepping closer to the pedestal. “Destroy the stone. Break the tether.”

  But I wasn’t sure that would work. Not anymore. I could feel it—something else. Something that wasn’t just about keeping the figure out… but keeping it from being released.

  “No,” I whispered. “If we destroy the stone, we might break the seal. We don’t know what will happen.”

  The figure turned its head toward me at that, as if it heard. Maybe it had.

  Apolloh stepped between me and it, his voice low but firm. “Tell us what you want.”

  No response.

  Just that same overwhelming pressure. The soundless voice pressing again.

  You’re the key.

  I didn’t understand. Me? Why me? But I remembered the dreams. The way the stone called to me. The way I’d felt it respond in my presence.

  My hand found Apolloh’s.

  “I think it’s been waiting for me.”

  I stepped forward before anyone could stop me. The chill from the stone seemed to reach out like a breath across my skin, making every nerve in my body feel like it was pulsing in rhythm with its glow. I didn’t know what I was doing—only that I had to do it.

  “Laika,” Apolloh warned behind me, his voice low, tense.

  “I have to try,” I said softly, not looking back.

  I reached out. My fingers hovered just above the stone’s surface. The hum vibrated through my bones, echoing louder in my skull. My heart beat in time with it—steady, then faster, then—

  Contact.

  The moment my hand touched it, the cave vanished.

  Not physically—but in my mind. I was standing in a vast void. A sea of shifting stars and shadow stretched all around me. The stone floated in front of me, suspended in midair, and behind it…

  The figure.

  It was still faceless, but now it was closer. I could feel its intent like heat radiating from a flame—ancient, burdened, longing.

  Not hatred.

  Loneliness.

  It stepped forward, but not menacingly. Cautiously. Slowly.

  You hear me. Finally.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  I was once many things. A guardian. A vessel. A mistake.

  The stone was made to bind. To protect.

  But the seal weakens. My purpose… frays.

  Images flickered through the void around us—brief glimpses of another world, one corrupted by dark, twisting magic. A war. A sacrifice. The stone being forged by trembling hands and bound with blood.

  They sealed me here to keep the others from coming. But time… erodes all walls. Even this one.

  “Others?”

  The void rippled.

  I saw them—more like the figure, but monstrous, grotesque. Writhing masses of dark mist and molten shadow clawing at the edges of reality.

  “I thought you were the threat,” I whispered.

  No. I am the lock. And you—It stepped forward again, the space between us thinning.

  —are the key

  Everything clicked. The dreams. The pull. The way the stone responded to me. It wasn’t because it wanted to let the figure out.

  It was because it needed me to strengthen the seal.

  “I can fix it?” I asked, unsure.

  With himA faint light flickered beside me. Apolloh’s energy. His tether to mine.

  The bond you carry—it resonates with what was once used to forge the stone. Two souls intertwined. Balance and protection.

  I nodded slowly. “We’ll do it. But you have to show me how.”

  The figure hesitated. Then extended a hand—not threatening, not forceful. An offering.

  When I reached back, my fingers passed through its shadow, and light erupted from the stone. I gasped as the void fell away and I crashed back into my body.

  ?

  I staggered, and Apolloh caught me instantly.

  “Laika!” he held my shoulders, eyes scanning my face. “What happened?”

  I looked up at the glowing stone, no longer pulsing chaotically—but with a steady, calm rhythm.

  “It’s not trying to escape,” I said breathlessly. “It’s trying to warn us. It’s keeping something worse out. And I know how we can help it.”

  Zia and Jaxe exchanged a quick glance.

  “What do we need to do?” Zia asked.

  I reached for Apolloh’s hand. Our bond thrummed like a heartbeat between us. “Together, we can stabilize it. The stone responds to the connection between us. If we channel it, we can reinforce the seal.”

  The stone pulsed once in agreement.

  But deep in the cave, the ground trembled again—and this time, it wasn’t from the figure.

  Something else was stirring.

  Something angry.

  “They know we’re here,” Jaxe said, unsheathing his blade.

  “We don’t have much time,” I whispered. “Let’s end this.”

  ———

  We barely had time to position ourselves.

  The chamber shook again, dust cascading from the ceiling as a low rumble echoed from deeper within the cave. The stone in the center pulsed like a heartbeat now—steady, sure, calling. Apolloh and I stood before it, our hands still entwined, the warmth of our bond rising between us like a thread of fire. I could feel the stone reaching for us, resonating, recognizing.

  “This is it,” I murmured. “We start now.”

  Zia spun around, eyes narrowed toward the dark tunnel where the tremor had come from. “We’ll hold the line,” she said. “Just do whatever you need to do.”

  Apolloh didn’t let go of my hand as we knelt before the stone. “Ready?” he asked, his voice low.

  I met his eyes and nodded. “Together.”

  We placed our free hands on the stone.

  In an instant, a current of energy surged through us—powerful, ancient, raw. My breath caught as the stone drew on our bond, pulling from it, feeding on the unity between us. Memories flooded through my mind—first meetings, shared smiles, whispered fears, the moment we learned we were going to be parents. The bond between our souls burned bright in the darkness, a tether stronger than anything I’d ever felt.

  The stone responded, glowing brighter, its hum rising.

  Behind us, everything erupted.

  The far tunnel exploded with shadow as creatures spilled into the chamber. Not like the figure. These were twisted, malformed—creeping horrors made of smoke and sinew, dragging with them the smell of ash and rot.

  Jaxe was the first to meet them, blades gleaming as he lunged into the fray, his strikes fast and fluid. Zia followed close behind, her daggers flashing like lightning. For every one they cut down, more slithered in, shrieking like wind through shattered bone.

  A scream echoed through the chamber—not human. Not even close.

  The stone flared violently, reacting to the chaos.

  I squeezed Apolloh’s hand tighter. “Stay with me. Focus.”

  We channeled more, letting our connection deepen. I felt our energies intertwine, not just side by side, but wrapped around each other—whole, inseparable. My baby kicked softly within me, as if drawn to the rhythm too. The three of us, one force. A family, anchoring something ancient.

  Suddenly, the stone cracked—not broken, but opening—revealing a hidden core. Light surged from it, white and gold and blazing with intensity. A sigil formed beneath us, carved into the floor by the light itself. It pulsed with the rhythm of our hearts.

  But the creatures were pushing harder.

  One leapt past Zia—Jaxe grabbed it mid-air and slammed it to the ground, snarling as its claws grazed his arm. Another lunged at us—but a barrier of light burst outward from the stone, throwing it back.

  “They’re trying to disrupt the connection!” Zia yelled.

  “They can’t!” I shouted back. “We’re almost there!”

  A final surge built in the stone.

  And then—I felt it.

  The seal.

  It wasn’t just a wall. It was a living boundary. Woven with threads of sacrifice, memory, and power. It had been strong once—but age had worn it thin. Now, with our bond, with our unity, we could weave it anew.

  I looked at Apolloh. He nodded once.

  We gave ourselves to it—our love, our hopes, our unborn child’s promise—and the stone drank it in.

  Light erupted.

  The creatures screamed—some clawing at their own shadows as the light burned through them, others vanishing altogether in a flash of gold.

  The entire cave shook violently—once, then again.

  Then stillness.

  Silence.

  The stone dimmed, returning to a soft glow. The sigil beneath us faded.

  And the chamber was quiet.

  Zia stood panting, blood on her arm, dagger still raised. Jaxe leaned against the wall, catching his breath, eyes scanning the darkness for anything left.

  But nothing came.

  We’d done it.

  The seal held.

  I slumped against Apolloh, breathless, heart thudding in my chest. “It’s over… for now.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his forehead to mine. “We did it.”

  Zia stepped forward, staring at the stone. “I don’t know how long that will last.”

  I nodded slowly. “Long enough. And next time… we’ll be ready.”

  The cave’s silence felt heavier now that the fighting was done. The stone’s glow had dimmed to a gentle thrum, like a sleeping heart still keeping time. Zia was the first to move, wiping her blade on a cloth as she sheathed it. Jaxe stayed back for a moment longer, eyes locked on the place where the last creature had vanished.

  We stepped away from the stone, and I swayed slightly on my feet. Apolloh caught me, his hand firm at my waist, supporting me without a word. The energy we had given to the seal had taken its toll, and every muscle in my body hummed with exhaustion.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Zia said quietly, voice hoarse.

  No one argued.

  We retraced our steps through the tunnels, careful and quiet, though the presence we’d felt before was now gone. Or… at least, resting. The air grew warmer as we neared the surface, the stale scent of damp stone slowly replaced by the crispness of open air.

  When we stepped outside, dawn was just beginning to touch the sky. The light spilled across the treetops in soft gold, casting long shadows behind us. It felt like we had been down there for days.

  I took a deep breath of fresh air. It didn’t fix the ache in my limbs or the worry still curled tight in my chest—but it helped.

  “I thought I understood what we were facing,” I said quietly, watching the horizon. “But this… it’s bigger than we imagined.”

  “You did good,” Apolloh said beside me, his voice low and steady. “We all did.”

  Zia crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly. “We bought ourselves time. That’s all. But we need answers—and fast.”

  Jaxe nodded. “And a plan. If this thing was a lock… there’s no telling how many others might be trying to find the key.”

  I looked down at my hand resting against my belly. The stone had responded to me because of what we shared—our bond, our child. I didn’t know if that made me special or just lucky. Either way, it put a target on our backs.

  “We’ll find them,” I said, finally. “The others. The ones like it—or worse. But not today.”

  “Agreed,” Zia said. “Let’s rest, regroup, and then figure out our next step.”

  We stood there for a few more minutes, letting the breeze wash over us, trying to collect ourselves.

  Then we turned toward the forest path and started walking—together. The four of us, changed, worn, but not broken.

  Not yet.

  ~~~

  On the way back down we didn’t rush.

  After everything that happened inside the cave, our movements were quieter, more deliberate. The stone was sealed—for now—but that didn’t mean we were safe. And I, more than anyone, couldn’t afford to take a misstep.

  The mountain trail was even steeper on the way down, its edges slick with early morning dew and patches of crumbling rock. Every few steps, Apolloh would glance back at me, wordlessly offering a hand. I took it every time, grateful for the steady anchor of his presence.

  Zia led the way, clearing loose debris from the narrow path and marking the safer footholds with faint scratches of her dagger. Jaxe stayed behind me, close but not crowding, his eyes scanning the trees and cliffs as though expecting another ambush.

  Halfway down the slope, my breath caught as I slipped a little. Apolloh caught me instantly, arms steady and strong around my waist.

  “Careful,” he murmured, tightening his hold just a bit before easing me back upright.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my belly as I steadied myself. A soft kick answered from within. “We’re okay.”

  We made camp just before nightfall, at the edge of a glade carved into the mountain’s side. It overlooked the forest we’d crossed before, and in the quiet stillness, the trees below looked like a sea of green and shadow stretching endlessly to the horizon.

  We didn’t talk much that night.

  Zia kept the fire small. Jaxe sharpened his blades on a smooth rock, his expression unreadable as always. Apolloh and I sat side by side, wrapped in our shared silence. I leaned into him, head on his shoulder, and closed my eyes as his hand drifted gently over the curve of my stomach.

  That night, I slept lighter than usual, mind flickering with broken dreams—of light, stone, and shadow. But nothing woke us.

  By the second day, the steep cliffs gave way to gentler slopes, and we picked up the pace just a little. My legs ached, and I could feel the strain setting into my hips, but I didn’t complain. I just pressed on.

  When we saw the fortress spires rising above the treetops again, relief washed over me like cool water. Home. Or… as close as anything had felt to home since all of this began.

  The guards at the gates opened them without a word, having been warned of our return. We crossed the threshold together, dusty, sore, and changed. No one asked questions. They just stepped aside.

  Inside, everything was still. The fortress stood waiting—quiet, sturdy, holding its breath.

  And as the doors closed behind us, I felt it too.

  This wasn’t the end.

  Just a pause before the next storm.

  ———

  As we stepped into the main hall, the familiar scent of old stone and lavender oil wrapped around us like a welcome.

  And then—

  Tiny footsteps.

  “Kailaa!” a voice squeaked from the hallway.

  Before I could turn, a blur of white and silver fur launched itself down the corridor, followed by a second. Kailaa and Elias—shifting mid-bound into their smaller wolf forms—ran straight for us with tails wagging and ears perked, joy radiating off them in waves.

  A laugh broke free from my chest before I could stop it.

  Kailaa reached me first, skidding to a stop and shifting quickly, little paws replaced by wobbly legs as she threw her arms around my waist. “You’re back!”

  Elias followed right after, darting toward Apolloh with an enthusiastic jump that Apolloh caught effortlessly, pulling the pup into a bear hug.

  “We missed you,” Kailaa said against my coat, squeezing tighter.

  “I missed you too,” I whispered, brushing her hair back gently.

  Zia chuckled from behind us. “Glad someone’s happy to see us.”

  Jaxe raised a brow. “Speak for yourself.”

  Apolloh ruffled Elias’s hair as he set him down. “Did you cause any trouble while we were gone?”

  Elias grinned wide, flashing a suspiciously innocent smile. “Define trouble.”

  I shook my head, smiling despite the ache in my limbs. The warmth of these small lives grounded me, reminded me what all of this was for.

  Kailaa looked up at my belly and rested her hand gently over it. “Still in there?”

  “Still in there,” I said, resting my hand over hers. “Kicking stronger than ever.”

  The two pups giggled and wrapped themselves around us again—Kailaa clinging to my leg, Elias latched to Apolloh’s arm.

  We stood there in the middle of the hall, exhausted but surrounded by light, laughter, and the gentle tug of hope.

  Eventually, Zia nudged the pups gently. “Alright, let them breathe, little wolves. They need rest.”

  Kailaa groaned but let go, and Elias gave Apolloh one last hug before hopping back beside her. They shifted again with a flash of light and padded off, tails wagging as they disappeared down the corridor—likely to tell the others we were home.

  I leaned into Apolloh, my hand instinctively finding his. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

  He kissed my temple. “Sometimes it’s not the battles that remind us what we’re fighting for… it’s the moments after.”

  We walked together through the quiet hall, steps slow, shoulders brushing. The fortress rose around us like a shield—not just of stone, but of everything we’d built and protected.

  And for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself a breath of peace.

  Just one.

  Because I knew it wouldn’t last.

  But for now… it was enough.

  That night, the fortress was still.

  The halls, usually echoing with footsteps and hushed conversations, seemed to settle into a hush, as if even the stone was holding its breath around us.

  I lay in bed beside Apolloh, the fire in the hearth casting warm light across the room. His arm was wrapped around me, steady and comforting, our fingers loosely intertwined over the swell of my stomach. The pups had already visited once more before bed, tucking themselves around us with sleepy giggles until they’d dozed off. Now, they lay curled at the foot of our bed, soft breathing rising and falling in sync.

  But my eyes stayed open.

  There was peace here—real peace. And yet, something tugged at the edge of my thoughts. A whisper. A sensation. Not danger. Not yet. But movement. Like the world outside had stirred again, as if sealing the stone had only triggered the next ripple in the pond.

  “Apolloh?” I whispered, unsure if he was still awake.

  His fingers tightened slightly around mine. “Yeah?”

  I turned my head, our eyes meeting in the dim glow. “Do you feel it, too?”

  He was quiet for a long moment before he nodded. “Yeah. Like something’s waiting.”

  I swallowed and rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

  “It won’t wait forever,” I said.

  “No,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to my hair. “But neither will we.”

  And as sleep finally pulled me under, I clung to that thought.

  We will be ready—whatever comes next.