Kendrys clenched the vial in her hand until it shattered, shards of glass biting into her skin. Blood welled up in crimson beads, mixing with the dense liquid seeping from the broken flask.

  Her legs buckled, her body growing heavier as her muscles betrayed her. A blinding white light consumed her vision, and the world disappeared. Kendrys felt an invisible force engulfing her, pulling every fiber of her being into an unfathomable abyss.

  When she reopened her eyes, she stood in a space that defied all logic. No ground, no horizon, just a luminous void in perpetual motion. Before her, a formless mass floated, devouring the light around it.

  — "Don’t step forward," murmured a soft voice.

  The words, though barely audible, imposed themselves on her as an injunction she couldn’t ignore. Kendrys blinked, still disoriented, her mind struggling to adapt to this unreal environment.

  — "I’m looking for…" she began.

  The voice cut her off, its tone now sharp and icy.

  — "I know who you’re looking for," it replied.

  A cold shiver ran down Kendrys’s spine. Survival instincts took over, awakening a visceral sense of distrust. Nothing about this place, nothing about this entity, felt safe.

  — "What do you want?" she asked.

  — "An artifact."

  — "What artifact?" she snapped warily.

  — "The Book of Gildardere."

  — "That book has been lost for centuries," she said.

  The Book of Gildardere. A legendary relic, its pages were said to contain forbidden secrets capable of reshaping the world. An artifact many dismissed as a fable.

  — "That’s a lie. It’s still in the castle."

  Kendrys took a deep breath, trying to steady the tumult of her thoughts. If what this creature said was true, the implications were staggering.

  — "Give me information about the man, and I’ll find the grimoire," she responded.

  — "He’s closer than you think," the voice murmured. "Bring him to me, and I’ll give you his name."

  A crystalline laugh suddenly echoed, sharp and chilling, rising in the empty space like an endless reverberation. Kendrys felt a cold sweat bead at the back of her neck, her heart pounding at a frantic rhythm.

  The light around her flickered, then everything collapsed. She woke with a start, her breath ragged, her body trembling.

  A sharp pain in her hand pulled her back to the present moment. Looking down, she noticed the drops of blood trickling from her wounds.

  With a swift but clumsy motion, she wrapped her hand, trying to steady the tremors that lingered in her fingers.

  — "He’s closer than you think," she murmured to herself.

  Struggling to her feet, Kendrys felt her legs shaking under the weight of her own body. An unusual fatigue weighed on her, as if the brief contact with that entity had drained part of her vitality. She glanced around her darkened room. The shutters blocked out any external light, leaving a compact, almost tangible darkness. Yet, it wasn’t the blackness that unsettled her. She still felt its presence.

  Her mind was in turmoil, a storm of thoughts colliding with fragments of the dream still vivid in her memory. Images, words, sensations looped incessantly, refusing to fade. Kendrys knew she didn’t have the luxury of rest.

  She lit a small lamp on her desk. Sitting down, her body’s mechanical movements betrayed her exhaustion. She opened a notebook, the blank pages seeming to wait to capture her thoughts.

  The Book of Gildardere.

  She methodically wrote down everything she remembered: the entity’s voice, its demand, the chilling laughter that still echoed in her mind.

  Setting the pen down, she closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers massaging her temples. Each thought led to another, like an endless maze. How could such a legendary artifact, believed lost for centuries, still be here, hidden somewhere in this castle?

  If the creature was telling the truth, it meant that a far greater conspiracy was at play. This could only be the work of powerful hands, orchestrating events from the shadows.

  Kendrys clenched her jaw. She was exhausted, but frustration stoked a flame within her that refused to die out. Someone in this castle had hidden the book.

  She closed the notebook with a sharp motion, her fingers sliding over the rough cover.

  Kendrys was awakened by a faint creak. A page entered her room, carrying a tray of food. The sun, already high, flooded the room with a golden light, but the soothing warmth did little to lift the fatigue weighing on her. The night had been short, haunted by the previous day’s events, and her restless thoughts had kept her from finding true rest.

  She ate quickly, the taste of the food bland on her tongue, as though she had lost the ability to perceive flavor. Her mind remained consumed by the mission ahead, each bite taken mechanically, more out of necessity than desire.

  After finishing her meal, Kendrys left her room. Her steps were brisk, almost nervous, as she made her way to Soren’s office. It was essential to inform him of her discoveries. However, she knew the conversation would be far from easy. Soren was not a man to receive unexpected news with calm acceptance.

  Arriving at his office, she paused. The slightly ajar door revealed a room steeped in silence. Gently pushing the door open, she stepped inside.

  Soren’s desk was immaculate, every paper neatly stacked, the quills carefully arranged in their inkwell. The chair was pushed against the desk.

  Leaning slightly against the desk, Kendrys fell into thought. If Soren wasn’t at his post, it meant he had either been called away for an urgent matter or had chosen to be elsewhere. She had no choice but to wait, though patience was not in her nature.

  Kendrys crossed her arms, her gaze lingering momentarily on the stack of documents in front of her.

  The hours stretched on, each passing minute amplifying Kendrys’s impatience. She paced the hallway restlessly.

  At last, the heavy doors creaked open, and Soren entered. His gaze immediately fell on her.

  — "You wanted to see me?" he asked.

  Kendrys nodded.

  She stepped into the room.

  — "How can I help you?" he continued.

  — "I have a lead on the murders," she stated.

  Soren froze slightly.

  — "I’m listening," he said.

  — "I visited the families of Fylk and Jerffe," she began.

  She watched his reaction carefully. Soren’s features hardened, and a shadow of irritation crossed his face.

  — "Who gave you permission?" he demanded.

  Kendrys’s gaze didn’t waver. She had no intention of being intimidated.

  — "I found something interesting," she replied simply.

  Soren furrowed his brow but remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  — "The man we’re looking for smells of sulfur," she said. "He’s a foreigner, with chestnut hair, brown eyes, and colorful clothing."

  A silence settled between them. Soren stared at her for a long moment.

  — "I’ll look into it," he finally said.

  Without another word, he averted his gaze. With a quick, brusque gesture, he dismissed Kendrys.

  The door shut behind her with a sharp snap.

  Kendrys found herself alone in the corridor, her irritation simmering. She clenched her fists.

  Soren might have been right to remain cautious, but his behavior was far from flawless. Everything about his demeanor suggested he was intent on keeping her at arm’s length.

  Taking several deep breaths, Kendrys closed her eyes for a moment to calm the anger rising within her. This was not the time to lose her composure. No matter Soren’s attitude, she needed to keep her focus.

  Determined to continue her investigation, Kendrys headed toward the Herb Quarter, a bustling crossroads where the city never slept. The narrow, cobblestone streets formed a maze dominated by nocturnal activity. The air was saturated with a cacophony of sounds: bursts of laughter, animated conversations, clinking glasses, and the cries of merchants promoting their spicy specialties. The intoxicating aromas of grilled meats, exotic spices, and fermented drinks filled the atmosphere.

  Kendrys weaved her way through the crowd, avoiding rowdy groups and insistent vendors, before spotting a particularly lively tavern. Its reputation as a haven for those looking to lose themselves—or to hide—made it the perfect place for her investigation.

  Kendrys stepped inside. The dark wooden walls, worn smooth by years, seemed to absorb the laughter and murmurs. A large fireplace occupied one corner of the room, its fire crackling softly.

  She climbed the stairs to the upper level, preferring the vantage point to observe the entire room. The heavy wooden tables, covered with brown-and-cream checkered tablecloths, were occupied by patrons deep in conversation. Some laughed, others spoke in hushed tones, all seemingly oblivious to the young woman’s presence.

  Settling at a table near the railing, she scanned the comings and goings with sharp attention.

  Her eyes drifted over each face, searching for one that matched the description of the killer. Yet none of the men present, despite the diverse clientele, resembled the foreigner she sought.

  Minutes stretched into hours, each passing moment feeding her frustration. Around her, conversations buzzed, intermingling with bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses, but none of what she overheard offered the faintest lead.

  At last, Kendrys rose and descended to the bar. The bartender, a short, stocky man with a face etched by time, greeted her with a polite smile.

  — "What can I get for you, ma’am?" he asked.

  — "Have you seen any foreigners recently?"

  The man shrugged slightly, setting down the glass he was wiping.

  — "I see plenty of foreigners here," he replied.

  Kendrys tilted her head.

  — "A man with chestnut hair, wearing colorful clothes?" she clarified.

  The bartender shook his head slowly.

  — "No, ma’am. Haven’t seen anyone like that."

  She nodded her thanks, masking her disappointment, and left the bar.

  The night continued in the same frustrating vein. Kendrys visited a dozen establishments, each noisier and more crowded than the last. Yet none held the answers she desperately sought.

  As she stepped out of the final bar of the evening, the cool night air greeted her, stinging her cheeks lightly. She took a deep breath, letting her gaze wander to the stars piercing through the darkness. Her frustration was palpable, but she knew she couldn’t afford to give up.

  *****

  As Kendrys returned home, she noticed a letter slipped under her door, sealed with the royal insignia. Her heart tightened as she picked it up. Breaking the seal with a swift motion, she unfolded the parchment, her growing nerves making her hands slightly unsteady.

  The instructions were clear: she was being sent north to investigate a series of mysterious murders… of sheep.

  Kendrys’s jaw clenched as she read.

  A quiet fury rose within her, burning like a flame on the verge of erupting. There was no doubt in her mind that Soren was trying to sideline her, relegating her to an insignificant mission far from the truly important matters.

  She tossed the letter onto the table with a sharp gesture before leaving her room, her boots striking the floor with force. Her mind was boiling as she made her way to Soren’s office, ready to confront him. But upon arriving, she found Marte leaning against the wall. He lifted his head as she approached, his expression darkened.

  — "What’s wrong?" he asked.

  — "They’re sending me north," she said, her voice tinged with anger.

  Marte nodded.

  — "I’ve been sent on a mission too. To the south, to track down a group of brigands," he replied.

  Kendrys let out an exasperated sigh, her fists clenching.

  — "I’m hunting sheep killers," she growled.

  Marte smirked.

  — "A thrilling mission," he joked.

  His smile only fanned the flames of Kendrys’s frustration. She felt heat rising within her, and flames began to flicker around her foot. Clenching her fists, she fought to contain her power, her breathing quickening.

  — "It’ll be fine, Kendrys," Marte tried to reassure her.

  But she wasn’t ready to calm down.

  — "I need to speak to Soren immediately," she declared.

  Her anger simmered, on the verge of boiling over, but her control remained intact—barely.

  After hours of waiting, it was the steward who finally appeared.

  — "I need to see Soren," Kendrys demanded.

  The steward remained stoic.

  — "He is occupied and won’t return for several days," he replied, his hands clasped behind his back.

  Kendrys crossed her arms, a spark of defiance in her eyes.

  — "Then I’ll wait," she said firmly.

  — "You must leave at dawn. Your missions are urgent," added the steward, clearly eager to end the discussion.

  — "Bullshit, they’re pointless missions!" she snapped.

  The steward frowned, a glimmer of irritation breaking through his stoic fa?ade.

  — "This is an order from your superior and the royal house," he declared with icy authority.

  Still seething with quiet rage, Kendrys left the room. Marte followed her.

  — "This doesn’t feel right," he murmured, his gaze dark. "Why are they trying to send us away from the capital?"

  — "I don’t know," Kendrys replied. "But I have useful information. The man we’re looking for smells of sulfur. He’s a foreigner, wears colorful clothing, and he’s tall, with chestnut hair and brown eyes."

  Marte nodded slowly, pondering her words.

  — "Interesting," he said thoughtfully.

  Kendrys gestured to him, indicating she needed solitude, and left him behind.

  As she returned to her quarters, her thoughts swirled relentlessly. Why were Soren and the royal house so intent on sending them away from the capital? Something was brewing, and she was determined to uncover it.

  She shut the door to her room with a sharp motion.

  *****

  At dawn, everything was ready. Her horse, a dark-coated stallion with taut muscles, pawed impatiently near the stables, its breath forming small clouds in the icy air.

  Nearby, neatly packed provisions awaited: warm clothing to combat the frigid northern winds, a compass, sturdy ropes, and her sword, always within reach. Kendrys cast a dark glance at the preparations, fully aware that this mission would divert her from far more pressing matters.

  She mounted her horse, her jaw clenched. It would take her several weeks to reach her destination, hunt down brigands, and return.

  On the first day, she pushed her horse hard, covering nineteen leagues. Hills, shadowy forests, and frozen fields blurred around her in monotonous succession, but Kendrys did not slow her pace.

  When night fell, she found shelter in a small inn at the heart of a village. The weathered wooden structure emitted a flickering light that seemed to struggle against the encroaching darkness. Inside, the atmosphere was muted yet heavy. The many conversations were laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of unease.

  Kendrys settled in a corner of the common room, her ears attuned to every snippet of dialogue. Every discussion revolved around a single topic: the mysterious sheep killers terrorizing the region.

  — "Not a sound at night, and come morning, only bones remain," murmured a woman, clutching her shawl tightly around her. "Blackened bones, like they’ve been burned…"

  — "No predator does that," an old man added.

  — "And that smell! It stinks like hell," a young man chimed in.

  The villagers’ faces, pale and drawn, were etched with an almost tangible terror.

  After observing and listening for a while, Kendrys rose and approached the counter. The innkeeper greeted her with a nod.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  — "Would you like something to eat, ma’am?" he asked.

  — "Not exactly," she replied. "I’d like to know more about what’s happening to your sheep."

  The innkeeper stiffened slightly, his expression darkening.

  — "There’s not much to say, ma’am," he muttered, lowering his voice. "They vanish, or… what’s left of them is barely believable."

  Kendrys didn’t break her gaze.

  — "Have you seen anything? Or anyone?"

  — "Nothing. Just those carcasses… And that smell. Folks say it’s the devil himself," he said, his tone trembling.

  — "What kind of smell?" she pressed.

  — "A sharp, acrid smell," he finally answered.

  She nodded, thanking the innkeeper, and returned to her seat by the fire. Her thoughts swirled relentlessly.

  That night, Kendrys barely slept.

  The second day proved even more grueling. Kendrys covered a dozen leagues, but her horse, despite its strength, began to show clear signs of fatigue. Its flanks heaved, and its hooves dragged across the ground, leaving uneven prints in the packed dirt. With a frustrated sigh, Kendrys halted in a nearby town. She left her horse at a stable to rest and rented another, younger and more energetic mount.

  As she prepared to leave the town, Kendrys spotted a shepherd near a pen, his sheep huddled close around him as if seeking protection. The man, clad in a worn coat, gazed at the horizon with a somber expression.

  Kendrys guided her horse toward him, slowing her pace to avoid alarming him.

  — "Good day," she called out.

  The shepherd turned to her, wary, his brows furrowed.

  — "I’m looking for information about the sheep attacks. Have you seen or heard anything strange?"

  The shepherd let out a deep sigh.

  — "Nothing," he replied.

  He turned slightly, gesturing with his chin toward a small clearing below.

  — "And then, come morning, that," he said in a weary tone.

  Kendrys dismounted her horse and stepped toward the clearing, her gaze immediately falling on the scattered carcasses. The bones, blackened and porous, seemed almost unreal, as though burned from within. The air around her was heavy, saturated with an acrid stench that turned her stomach.

  She straightened and returned to the shepherd, her expression grave.

  — "You’re sure you didn’t notice anything? No movement, no sound?"

  The shepherd shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly.

  — "Believe me, ma’am. If I had seen or heard anything, I would have stepped in," he growled, his fists clenched.

  Kendrys stared at him for a moment, searching for any detail in his words or demeanor that might help her move forward. But there was nothing—not even a hint.

  — "Thank you," she said finally, her tone softer.

  The shepherd nodded silently and returned to his flock, his steps heavy. Kendrys mounted her horse again, casting one last look at the clearing. The scene remained etched in her mind: the bones, the smell, and the total lack of clues.

  The following days were marked by a succession of similar attacks. The sheep continued to die inexplicably, and each scene was identical: blackened bones, a suffocating odor, and no trace of the culprit. Kendrys questioned other shepherds, other villagers, but their responses echoed the same frustrating refrain of fear and helplessness.

  Determined to shift her approach, Kendrys decided on a different strategy. One night, she climbed into a tree near an isolated sheepfold, hidden among its thick branches. The cloak she wore shielded her from the biting cold, but she cared little for the discomfort. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, watching every shadow and potential movement.

  Hours passed. Every whisper of the wind, every distant creak kept her on edge. Kendrys felt her breathing sync with the occasional bleating of the sheep, her body taut like a drawn bow.

  But nothing. The night remained still, as if frozen. No sign of the presence she was hunting, no disturbance in the air thick with mystery.

  As dawn broke on the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, Kendrys climbed down from her vantage point. Her limbs were stiff and numb.

  *****

  She continued her watch for several days, her nights fragmented by brief moments of restless sleep. Every shadow in the darkness, every creak or crack fed her heightened sense of vigilance. But that morning, as darkness mingled with the tentative first light of dawn, something shifted. Kendrys felt a chilling shiver race down her spine, jolting her upright.

  A sense of imminent danger gripped her. Her fingers ignited with flames. The air felt heavy, charged.

  Then came the buzzing.

  A strange, high-pitched, grating sound vibrated through the air, cutting into her mind like a blade. Kendrys raised a hand to her forehead as a violent migraine took hold, the sound growing more insistent.

  The sheep, which had been calm until now, suddenly grew restless. Their bleating turned into panicked screams, their bodies trembling under an inexplicable terror. Kendrys descended from the tree, her boots sinking into the damp earth. She raised her hands, flames dancing in her palms, ready to face whatever was approaching.

  The air shifted again, and a suffocating, acrid stench filled her nostrils. Before she could process it, a swarm burst forth from the darkness—a writhing mass of flies, black as the night, their bloated bodies glistening with blood in the light of her flames.

  They swarmed toward her, a voracious black tide, their buzzing rising to an earsplitting roar. Kendrys unleashed a wave of fire, a searing blast that tore through the swarm, reducing it to ashes. The flies exploded mid-flight, but for every group incinerated, more seemed to appear from nowhere.

  Around her, the sheep screamed, their panic rising to a fevered crescendo. Kendrys turned her head, and her heart clenched. The animals were collapsing one by one, their bodies convulsing before going still. Their skin blackened and cracked.

  A lump formed in her throat. She ran toward them, her flames extinguishing momentarily as she knelt beside a dying sheep. Her gaze met the animal’s, filled with a suffering she could hardly bear.

  — "I’m sorry," she murmured.

  She stood, her hands igniting once more. She unleashed flames to grant the creatures a swift and merciful end. Each act weighed heavily on her, but she knew she couldn’t let them suffer any longer.

  When the last sheep fell, silence descended—abrupt and oppressive. Kendrys remained motionless, the flames in her palms flickering faintly, mirroring her exhaustion.

  Slowly, she straightened, scanning the surroundings. The swarm had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Yet the stench of death lingered, clinging to the air like a curse.

  *****

  Back at the inn, Kendrys pushed the door open with a weary motion. Her footsteps echoed on the worn wooden floor, each movement betraying the exhaustion accumulated from her fruitless investigations. The air inside was heavy, saturated with the scent of stale beer and damp wood. She headed toward the counter, where the innkeeper, a stocky man, was polishing a glass, his gaze distant and lost in thought.

  — "Are there any marshes nearby?" she asked.

  The innkeeper froze. It was a fleeting moment, but Kendrys didn’t miss the slight twitch of his shoulders, the sudden tension hardening his features. His eyes darted nervously around, as if merely speaking of those places might summon some unseen curse.

  — "Yes..." he finally murmured. "But I wouldn’t advise going there, ma’am. Many people disappear in those lands. They’re… cursed."

  Bingo, she thought.

  A cold smile brushed Kendrys’s lips. The word "cursed" only confirmed what she had already suspected.

  — "Where are they?" she pressed.

  The innkeeper shook his head, his features tightening further under the weight of a fear he didn’t even try to hide.

  — "I strongly advise against setting foot there," he repeated. "Those aren’t places for a lady like you."

  Kendrys stood motionless, impassive. The silence thickened around them. Then, slowly, she pulled a gold coin from her pouch and slid it across the counter. The metallic clink echoed like a dissonant note in the heavy atmosphere of the inn.

  — "Please," she said in a calm, almost gentle tone.

  The innkeeper stared at the coin for a moment, his hesitant fingers brushing against the cold metal. The internal conflict was clear on his face: give in or try, futilely, to dissuade this woman who clearly had no intention of backing down.

  Finally, he let out a deep sigh. Reluctantly, he tore a piece of worn tablecloth from a nearby table and began tracing a crude map.

  — "Here’s the marsh," he said at last, pointing to the winding lines he had drawn. "This ‘circle’ in the center, that’s a cave. Take the road north. After five leagues… you’ll find it."

  Kendrys picked up the sketch, studying it closely. Her lips curled into a cold, satisfied smile.

  — "Perfect," she said, sliding a second gold coin onto the counter.

  The innkeeper nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on her, filled with an unease he couldn’t hide.

  — "Bring a meal to my room… and a beer," she added, turning away.

  She ascended the stairs to her room slowly, still feeling the weight of the innkeeper’s watchful eyes on her back.

  *****

  Kendrys woke at dawn, her body sore from a restless night spent tossing and turning in bed. The thoughts of the previous day had haunted her sleep, and she could still feel the weight of exhaustion pressing on her shoulders. She ate a sparse breakfast of dried meat, her jaw working mechanically while her mind was already focused on the marshlands.

  Wasting no time, she saddled her horse and set out, knowing the day would be long and grueling. The road wound through desolate landscapes, where the cold, damp wind lashed against her face.

  By late afternoon, Kendrys finally spotted the marsh. A stretch of stagnant water spread out as far as the eye could see, its surface broken by clumps of decayed vegetation and patches of black sludge.

  The air around her was heavy, thick with the acrid stench of rot and mildew.

  She slowed her horse. The dead trees lining the marsh loomed against the gray sky, their bare branches reaching out like claws. Bubbles broke the water’s surface, releasing small puffs of foul-smelling gas.

  Dismounting, Kendrys grabbed a stick she found near a withered bush. She advanced to the edge of the marsh and plunged the stick into the water. The wood sank slowly, disappearing into the thick sludge.

  — "Too risky," she murmured.

  She stepped back, her boots sinking slightly into the spongy ground. The muddy terrain seemed eager to swallow anything that ventured too far. A direct exploration wasn’t just perilous—it was potentially deadly.

  Kendrys ignited in a swift motion, an incandescent aura enveloping her body. She lifted off the ground, but no sooner had she risen than a low rumble echoed—a menacing, oppressive buzzing.

  Swarms of flies erupted from the shadows, a writhing, furious tide descending upon her like a living wave. Kendrys unleashed flames in every direction, forming a circle of light and heat that incinerated the first waves of the assault.

  But the flies scattered, maneuvering around her fire. Some clung to her arms and legs, their unexpected weight trying to drag her down. Others darted straight for her face.

  A shiver of revulsion ran through her. Their bloated bodies, filled with dark liquid, burst mid-flight as they hit her flames, releasing a foul stench of burned flesh and decay.

  The buzzing grew louder, no longer just a sound but a direct assault on her senses. Kendrys felt as if the noise were piercing her mind, shaking her focus and leaving her vulnerable.

  She shifted tactics. Her flames, which had been cast out in random waves, concentrated into a precise jet, a searing lance that tore through the writhing mass. Flies exploded by the hundreds, but their numbers seemed endless. Smaller, faster ones zigzagged between her attacks, slipping through to latch onto her hands and shoulders.

  Kendrys felt her strength waning. Her arms grew heavy, her movements slowed by the strain. Sweat streamed down her face, mingling with the oppressive heat of her flames. A dull ache settled into her muscles, sapping her energy further.

  But she refused to yield. Closing her eyes for a moment, Kendrys channeled all her energy, all her rage, into one final act. An explosion erupted from her body, a wave of pure heat that swept everything in its path. The light was so intense it briefly illuminated the surrounding marshlands.

  When the light faded, an oppressive silence filled the air. Kendrys hovered in midair, panting. Around her, black ashes swirled gently, falling slowly like a funereal shroud.

  She descended cautiously to the ground, her legs buckling slightly under her weight. The nauseating stench of burned flesh lingered, but she paid it no mind. Her entire body trembled from exhaustion, but her gaze remained fixed on the entrance of the cave looming before her.

  Wiping the sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand, Kendrys took a deep breath.

  Inside, the air was so thick it felt almost tangible, saturated with a nauseating stench that clung to every breath.

  The silence around her wasn’t complete. Faint sounds echoed in the darkness: the intermittent drip of water, an indefinable scraping, almost imperceptible, and occasionally what sounded like a distant breath. Kendrys felt her heartbeat quicken, her nerves stretched taut like cords ready to snap.

  Suddenly, a crack sounded behind her. She spun around abruptly, the flame in her hand flickering under the force of her movement.

  An immense figure emerged from the shadows. A towering woman, well over two meters tall, slid out of the darkness with menacing slowness. The lower half of her body ended in a long, scaly tail that undulated with a sinister grace across the slimy floor.

  Her sparse, tangled hair revealed patches of exposed skull. Her eyes, two piercing, luminous orbs, locked onto Kendrys with an unnerving intensity.

  When she smiled, a row of razor-sharp teeth glinted in her mouth.

  — "What brings you here, child?" murmured the creature, her voice soft and languid, a stark contrast to her terrifying appearance.

  Kendrys straightened her stance.

  — "I’ve come to kill you," she replied.

  A laugh echoed through the cave, a guttural, distorted sound that seemed to emanate from multiple places at once.

  — "Such audacity..." the creature murmured, a cruel smile spreading across her lips.

  Without warning, the cave walls began to tremble. Cracks formed, and thousands of insects poured forth—a writhing tide that seemed to materialize from nowhere. Massive flies, black beetles, and unknown crawling creatures surged toward Kendrys with terrifying speed.

  The swarm converged on her, pushing against her barrier of flames. Some darted toward her face, their wings brushing her skin like razor blades, while others crawled up her legs, their clawed feet leaving painful scratches.

  Kendrys, already weakened from her earlier battles, struggled to maintain her flames. Her arms trembled from the strain, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  A jolt of energy coursed through her body, forcing a cry from her lips. The force of the shock hurled her against the cave wall. Her back hit the stone with a dull thud, and she slid to the ground, gasping. Each breath was a labor, and pain radiated through her entire body.

  In front of her, the witch rose, her massive, scaly tail slithering slowly across the floor.

  — "How long can you hold out, little flame?" the creature murmured.

  Kendrys, despite the numbing pain engulfing her, clenched her fists. Her flickering flames cast a faint light over her face, etched with exhaustion, but her gaze remained resolute.

  — "Long enough to snuff you out," Kendrys whispered.

  The witch erupted into an inhuman laugh, a guttural, bone-chilling sound.

  — "Then show me, little flame."

  The creature lunged with surprising speed, her tail slicing through the air before slamming down like a blade. Kendrys rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. The scaly tail struck the ground with such force that it left a gaping crack, shards of rock splintering in all directions.

  Kendrys staggered to her feet, raising a flaming hand that she hurled in a sweeping arc. The fire struck the witch square in the chest, and a black vapor hissed from her seared skin. A piercing screech filled the cavern.

  — "How dare you!" the creature roared, her face contorted with wild rage.

  The witch wasted no time. She swung her tail in a sweeping motion, forcing Kendrys to leap backward. Before Kendrys could regain her footing, the creature’s claws lashed out, aiming for her shoulder. Kendrys countered with a burst of flame, but the impact pushed her back several steps.

  — "You’re quick, I’ll grant you that," the witch murmured. "But how long can you last?"

  Kendrys didn’t answer. She planted her feet firmly, ignoring the pain pulsing through her limbs, and summoned all her energy. An intense flame roared to life around her, illuminating the cavern with blinding light.

  The witch hesitated, a flicker of caution crossing her face.

  — "I’m still burning," Kendrys said.

  She unleashed a searing orb from her hands, a swirling fireball that hurtled toward the witch. The resulting explosion shook the entire cavern.

  When the dust settled, Kendrys was on her knees, her flames flickering faintly around her. Her breaths were labored, her body trembling from exhaustion.

  Before her, the silhouette of the witch emerged from the shadows. Though she bore the scorch marks of Kendrys’s flames, her predatory smile remained intact.

  — "Impressive," the witch murmured. "But look at you… You’re at your limit, little flame.’’

  Before Kendrys could react, the witch’s scaly tail lashed through the air with blinding speed. The precise, merciless blow struck her chest, lifting her off the ground like a rag doll. She was hurled into a stone pillar.

  The pain was immediate—sharp and crushing. A muffled cry escaped her lips as the air was violently forced from her lungs. Her body hit the ground with a heavy thud, her flames extinguished. She tried to breathe, but each attempt was agony, her ribcage compressed by an invisible weight.

  The witch advanced slowly, her scaly tail dragging across the ground with a sinister scrape. Her movements were deliberate, almost mocking.

  — "You’re not ready for this fight," the creature whispered.

  — "But you amuse me… that’s something, at least," she added, a predatory smile twisting her lips.

  Lying on the cold, damp ground, Kendrys felt rage boil within her. That burning frustration intertwined with the pain, forming a lump in her throat. Her hands trembled, desperately trying to summon a flame, but her body refused to obey.

  Her thoughts spiraled into a storm of anger and helplessness. Was this how it was going to end? No. She couldn’t fail now. Not here.

  — "Not… yet," she murmured, her voice barely audible, fractured by the effort.

  The witch paused, her smile widening as if savoring this final spark of defiance.

  — "Rest, little flame," she said softly, almost tenderly. "This is only the beginning."

  Before vanishing into the shifting darkness of the cave, the witch stopped for a moment, regarding Kendrys with a curious gaze. Her eyes gleamed with malevolent amusement.

  Kendrys, her eyelids heavy, felt the darkness creeping into her mind. Her vision narrowed, the edges of the cave growing blurry and indistinct. The last thing she saw was the imposing shadow of the witch melting into the gloom. Then, all went black.

  *****

  Kendrys slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids, heavy as lead, resisted every effort to lift them. A dull pain throbbed in her skull and spread throughout her body, every muscle screaming under the weight of what felt like an insurmountable effort. She pushed herself up slightly, her movements sluggish and shaky. That’s when the mocking voice of the witch echoed through the room.

  — "Ah, so you’re finally awake, little one?" the creature taunted.

  Kendrys’s gaze landed on the imposing figure of the witch. Without thinking, she tried to summon her flames. But nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  A shiver of panic ran down her spine. She tried again, more desperately this time, her trembling fingers reaching into the air. Still nothing. Her breathing quickened, her heart pounding violently in her chest.

  She turned toward the bars of her cage. They were black, gleaming ominously. On impulse, Kendrys grabbed them, yanking at them with all the fury she could muster.

  The witch, leaning casually against a wooden beam, watched the scene with a cruel smile.

  — "Your power won’t work behind these bars," she explained. "That’s blackstone. It absorbs your flame."

  Kendrys felt her heart sink. This material—something she’d never even heard of—completely smothered her power. The thought of being stripped of her strength, her only defense, terrified her more than anything else.

  The witch straightened, and her shadow stretched across the wall, immense and grotesquely distorted by the dim light.

  Kendrys’s eyes darted around the room in growing horror. In the gloom, she could make out cows and pigs hanging from hooks affixed to the ceiling. Their lifeless, bloodied bodies swayed gently, as if carried by an unseen current. Drops of blood fell into buckets below, their steady dripping echoing through the morbid silence.

  — "Be patient, little one," the witch sneered. "Your turn will come soon enough. But for now… I’m satisfied."

  Kendrys felt a wave of nausea rise within her, her stomach contracting painfully. She tried to respond, to shout something, but her dry, irritated throat produced only a hoarse rasp. The witch, satisfied, turned on her heels and disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone.

  The days stretched into a slow agony. Kendrys lost track of time, trapped in a darkness that seemed eternal. Hunger gnawed relentlessly at her insides, a constant, stabbing pain. Her parched throat burned with every attempt to swallow. Her muscles, stiff and aching, were almost useless, and her mind teetered between moments of clarity and strange visions—a disorienting mix of nightmares and hallucinations.

  One day, the silence was broken by heavy footsteps. The witch returned, holding a freshly killed rat in her hands. She tossed it at Kendrys’s feet.

  — "Eat it if you want to live," she commanded, her voice sharp and cutting.

  Kendrys looked down at the animal. Its half-flayed body revealed dangling entrails, and the metallic stench of blood filled her nostrils instantly. Nausea surged violently, and she fought the urge to vomit.

  A mix of rage and disgust overtook her.

  She grabbed the rat with one hand and, in a burst of fury, hurled it with all the strength she had left. The carcass hit the ground near the witch’s feet, splattering her dark robe slightly.

  The witch burst into a chilling laugh.

  — "Good," she said, her smile stretching even wider. "Weakness will make you all the sweeter to devour."

  Kendrys retreated to the back of her cage, her legs buckling beneath her. She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees. Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back, refusing to give in to vulnerability.

  Each day became an unbearable trial. Her strength ebbed away, and hope crumbled like a flickering flame on the verge of extinguishing.

  One day, when she expected nothing, the ground beneath her began to tremble. At first, it was a faint vibration, almost imperceptible, like a whisper rising from the depths. But within moments, the trembling intensified, growing stronger and more forceful. The chains binding her rattled ominously, and Kendrys opened her eyes, her mind dulled by exhaustion and pain.

  Shrill screams erupted. An infernal cacophony filled the space, each cry reverberating directly in her skull. Pain hammered through her temples like relentless blows, paralyzing her, plunging her into a visceral terror.

  She clenched her teeth, her thoughts a chaotic storm, trying to stave off the panic threatening to engulf her. Her senses were overwhelmed, reality itself seeming to warp under the onslaught of the maddening sounds.

  Then, suddenly, another noise pierced through the chaos like a blade slicing the air: footsteps. Fast, purposeful. Their echo resonated in the cave.

  Before she could comprehend what was happening, a brilliant light burst forth, cutting through the darkness.

  Kendrys squinted, blinded by the sudden burst of light. She turned her head with difficulty, her movements sluggish from exhaustion. Her eyes, still dazzled by the brightness, struggled to make out the figure approaching her. Then, the metallic groan of her cage’s bars jolted her from her stupor.

  The bars screeched as they twisted open, and strong hands grabbed her with a gentleness that was almost painful. She felt the reassuring pressure of the firm grip as she was pulled out of the oppressive prison.

  She tried to resist, to summon her flames for protection, but only faint, trembling flickers sparked from her fingers.

  — "Don’t worry, it’s me—Marte," he murmured.

  She let herself go, trusting the hands that guided her, her thoughts too foggy to fully comprehend what was happening.

  A steady arm slid around her waist, supporting her weight.

  — "Hold on, Kendrys."

  Her legs buckled beneath her, unable to bear her any longer.

  Kendrys felt her eyelids grow heavier, each blink sending a dull wave of pain rippling through her skull. Her body felt frozen, as if carved from the cold stone on which she lay. Even breathing demanded an unbearable effort. She was nothing more than dead weight, crushed by exhaustion and the lingering chaos within her.

  All around, faint whispers floated through the air. They were distant, muffled, like echoes from another world. She wanted to listen, to understand the voices that seemed to call to her, but everything was blurry and confusing, like a dream she couldn’t escape.

  Then, a gentle, comforting warmth brushed against her hand. At first barely perceptible, it grew more tangible, cutting through the fog enveloping her mind. Kendrys struggled to open her eyes.

  She fought, her eyelids trembling, and finally managed to part them slightly. Her vision was still hazy, as though the world were swaying before her. Then, a face began to take shape.

  — "Marte…?" she murmured. "You… weren’t you in the south?"

  Marte leaned closer, his face weary but illuminated by a fragile smile.

  — "Don’t talk too much," he whispered softly, his words as gentle as a caress. "You need to rest."

  His hand tightened lightly around hers. Kendrys wanted to respond, but the words caught in her throat. Her fatigued mind struggled to grasp the reality of the moment, while her body began to give in under the weight of her exhaustion.

  — "Hold on, Kendrys," he murmured.