As the crowd thinned, Mireia turned back to Flareon, her expression settling into one of weary resolve. The bond of their shared heritage, amplified by the surrounding catastrophe, was strong.
She gestured towards the sprawling chaos of the Versari efforts.
Flareon considered the offer. Safety, familiarity, kinship... it was tempting after the horrors of the Frostfang. But his gaze shifted instinctively to Seren, who stood nearby, nervously watching their exchange, likely understanding the gist if not the words. He wouldn't leave her. Not after everything.
He replied, meeting her gaze firmly.
He nodded towards Seren, switching back to the common Farseer tongue so she could understand.
"Seren comes with me. We survived the North together. I won't abandon her now."
Mireia's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. It was unusual for a Sorcerai, especially one as seemingly proud as Flareon, to show such loyalty to an outsider, a Farseer no less. But she studied Seren for a moment, the young Farseer's obvious exhaustion, the lingering signs of their shared hardship, the way Flareon stood protectively near her. The Citadel's rigid norms felt distant, irrelevant in the face of this shared apocalypse. Mireia gave a small, understanding nod.
She agreed, switching back to Sorcerai for Flareon.
She then addressed Seren directly in Farseer, her tone softening slightly.
"You are welcome too, Seren. Our shelter is small, but secure."
Seren nodded gratefully, relief washing over her face. The thought of a slightly more stable refuge, even among strangers, was almost overwhelming.
That evening, as the weak, dusty twilight deepened over the ruins, Mireia led them away from the chaotic central areas. They navigated through streets choked with debris, past Versari crews working tirelessly under flickering emergency lights, their faces grim masks of determination. The Sorcerai camp was located in a less damaged sector.
Stepping inside felt like entering a different, albeit still grim, world. The large main hall was relatively clear of debris. Soft, steady light emanated not from salvaged Versari tech, but from glowing spheres of contained elemental energy, a cool blue water globe maintained by Mireia, and a soft green luminescence likely provided by an Earth Sorcerai manipulating phosphorescent minerals. Perhaps half a dozen other Sorcerai were present, their elemental affiliations hinted at by subtle details, a Metal Sorcerai meticulously reinforcing a cracked support beam with salvaged rebar, an Air Sorcerai directing gentle currents to keep the dust settled.
...
The Sorcerai camp, though makeshift, possessed an air of calm order amidst the surrounding chaos. Sleeping pallets were neatly arranged against one wall, supplies carefully stacked. The elemental light sources cast a steady, comforting glow, free from the flicker of salvaged Versari tech. Flareon and Seren were offered water, purified by Mireia, and small rations, nutrient paste likely scavenged or provided by sympathetic Versari contacts.
They sat near the center of the hall, the other Sorcerai gradually gathering closer, their initial curiosity now focused. An Earth Sorcerai with dust ingrained in his tunic offered them a slightly thicker, cleaner blanket to share. Mireia sat opposite them, her expression patient, inviting.
"You said... you came from the North."
Mireia began gently, using the Farseer common tongue.
"From the Frostfang itself. Few travel those lands and return, especially now. Please, tell us what happened. Every detail might be important."
Flareon shifted, uncomfortable being the center of attention, especially when recounting their ordeal. He glanced at Seren, who gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He took a sip of water, the coolness soothing his dry throat.
Hesitantly at first, then with growing urgency fueled by shared trauma, Flareon and Seren recounted their harrowing ordeal. They spoke of the brutal Dravokh ambush that destroyed their Landliner, the terrifying appearance of the colossal, silent creature with violet eyes that sent even the warlike Dravokh fleeing in panic, and their subsequent capture. They detailed the escape from the frigid prison cavern, aided by the brave young Morphai, Tora; an escape made possible only by Seren's quick thinking about Pyremaw biology and Flareon's dwindling fire igniting a catastrophic internal explosion within the beasts. Their flight led them out into the frozen wilderness, only to be caught in a horrifying ravine attack by silent, erasing energy beams descending from a violet cloud, a phenomenon that ultimately claimed Tora's life through agonizing radiation exposure. Their tale concluded with the arduous trek south through an unnervingly empty Frostfang, the chilling discovery of the missing Stellar Beacon, and their arrival in the devastated ruins of Starbreach. The small group of Sorcerai listened in grim silence, the pieces of a terrifying global catastrophe beginning to slot into place.
The heavy silence lingered for a moment, thick with the weight of their harrowing tale. The Sorcerai exchanged uneasy glances, the descriptions of the silent creature and the destructive energy beams aligning disturbingly with the attacks on their own home and Starbreach.
Then, a sharp voice cut through the quiet. It belonged to Boltar, the Lightning Sorcerai, whose restless energy seemed barely contained, his storm-grey eyes flickering with intensity. He leaned forward from where he sat polishing a conductive metal rod.
"That creature..."
Boltar began, his voice having a faint crackling undertone even when speaking the smooth Farseer tongue.
"Its appearance... the sheer wrongness of it... There's only one explanation that resonates, however improbable."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Flareon and Seren.
"The Underworld."
The name hung in the air, charged with ancient dread. Even Flareon felt a prickle of unease, the word invoking deeply ingrained legends.
"Our oldest legends speak of it."
Boltar continued, tapping the metal rod thoughtfully against his palm.
"A realm beneath the crust, teeming with impossible life, governed by different laws. A place of chaos."
He frowned, acknowledging the contradiction.
"But... the same legends state Lioran sealed the only known entrance, millennia ago. Sacrificed himself to do it, or so the stories go."
Seren shifted slightly, her expression respectful but firm. She looked directly at Boltar, her Farseer training compelling her to introduce factual counterpoints, even to deeply held beliefs.
"With respect, Boltar..."
She began, her voice regaining some of its scholarly steadiness.
"The concept of an 'Underworld' as a literal, accessible place beneath Terravos... it exists only in Sorcerai folklore, specifically tied to the Lioran origin myths."
She took a careful breath, aware she might be treading on sensitive ground.
"The Archives in Spectrahold hold geological surveys dating back centuries, Versari deep-core drilling data... none mention such a realm with its own ecosystem or distinct physical laws. It's not recorded in Morphai histories, nor even in the fragmented Dravokh legends collected by traders, as far as our records show. It's always been considered... a symbolic story."
A few of the other Sorcerai shifted uncomfortably at hearing their foundational legend questioned so directly, though Mireia watched Seren with thoughtful consideration. Flareon felt a familiar prickle of Sorcerai pride but remained silent, the sheer alien nature of what they'd witnessed making him less certain of ancient tales.
Seren pressed on gently.
"Perhaps the creature... is something else entirely. Something new. Or... from somewhere else entirely, unrelated to Terravos's geology or history."
The implication, extraterrestrial or extradimensional, hung unspoken, adding another layer of terrifying possibility to the mystery.
Boltar leaned back, frowning, the crackling energy around him subdued slightly by Seren's calm dismissal of their foundational lore. The other Sorcerai looked thoughtful, caught between deeply ingrained belief and the stark, factual counterpoints presented by the Farseer.
She paused, her gaze drifting upwards as if searching the ruined ceiling for answers.
"There are phenomena... energies... we observe, but don't fully understand. Signals from deep space. Anomalous light patterns."
Her gaze sharpened, focusing back on the group, a flicker of academic intensity returning despite the grim circumstances.
"Flareon and I... we saw something in the Frostfang sky. A single point of light, moving erratically, pulsing. We call it 'The Watcher' in some old texts, more a poetic term for unexplained high-altitude luminous phenomena now. But its existence... it's documented. Very real, observed consistently since The Gaze of Spectrahold was built."
She glanced at Flareon for confirmation. He nodded curtly.
"We saw it. Felt... strange. Like being watched."
Seren leaned forward slightly, the pieces clicking together in her analytical mind.
"And the violet cloud... the energy beams... think about the radiation levels! That sheer intensity of ultraviolet emission... nothing naturally occurring on Terravos, no known geological process or even theoretical elemental interaction, could generate that kind of energy output, concentrated like that. It defies our physics, our understanding of energy transfer."
She pressed her point, the scientist overriding the survivor for a moment.
"An 'Underworld' beneath our feet implies terrestrial origin, bound by some form of planetary physics, however strange. But this... this felt entirely alien. Violating known laws."
Her hand drifted to the worn pouch at her belt, where she had instinctively tucked the object from the cave. She hesitated, then drew it out, the strange, dark metallic tablet catching the flickering elemental light.
"And... there's this."
She held it out carefully, laying it flat on her palm so the others could see.
"We found it in a cave, deep in the Frostfang. Hidden."
The Sorcerai leaned closer, their attention immediately captured. The firelight glinted off the tablet's unnatural, almost liquid surface, the intricate, flowing symbols seeming to shift and writhe subtly.
Mireia reached out tentatively, brushing a finger across the cool, smooth surface.
"What is this?"
She murmured, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"The alloy... it feels... dead somehow, yet resonates faintly. Like nothing I've ever touched."
Boltar squinted, his lightning-sharp eyes tracing the complex geometric patterns.
"Not Sorcerai markings. Not Versari, Farseer, Morphai... not even Dravokh, their scratchings are far cruder."
He admitted grudgingly.
The Earth Sorcerai, Gravus, picked it up carefully, testing its weight.
"Heavy. Dense. But the structure... it feels wrong. Almost... organic in its precision."
He turned it over, examining the back, which was equally covered in the strange etchings.
"Where did you say you found this, Seren?"
"A shallow cave, used for shelter. Near the back wall, tucked in a crevice. Miles from any known settlement or ruin, deep within the Frostfang."
Seren explained.
Gravus, the Earth Sorcerai, held the tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration. He closed his eyes, extending his innate connection to stone and soil towards the object, trying to sense its composition, its history etched in mineral structure. He grunted softly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
"Nothing."
He murmured, opening his eyes.
"It's... inert. I can feel its weight, its density, but it doesn't respond. It's like trying to sense bedrock through thick void."
Ferran, the Metal Sorcerai who had been reinforcing the beam earlier, reached out.
"Let me try."
Gravus passed him the tablet. Ferran gripped it firmly, his own focus tightening. Usually, metal, even strange alloys, would hum faintly under his influence, revealing stresses, potential weaknesses, a willingness to be shaped. He focused his will, attempting to subtly bend an edge, to feel the flow of its metallic bonds.
His jaw tightened. He increased the pressure of his will, a faint sheen of sweat appearing on his brow. The tablet remained utterly rigid, cold, and unresponsive in his grasp. It was like trying to bend pure thought.
"Impossible."
Ferran breathed, lowering the tablet, staring at it with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"It registers as metal, dense, solid... but my element finds no purchase. It's completely dead to my control."
The Sorcerai exchanged glances again, a new layer of mystery added to the already terrifying puzzle. An artifact of unknown origin, crafted from an unknown metal, bearing unknown symbols, found deep in the wilderness near where impossible creatures and devastating energy attacks had occurred. Seren's alien hypothesis suddenly felt less like speculation and more like a chilling possibility. The silence in the room deepened, charged now not just with fear, but with the profound unease of encountering the truly unknown.