The forest road stretched endlessly, its soil packed hard beneath the travelers' boots, its edges overrun with wild grasses and tangled roots. Above them, sunlight pierced the canopy in fleeting shafts, cutting the shade into ribbons of gold and shadow. Every so often the cry of a bird echoed overhead, or the scamper of some hidden creature disturbed the underbrush, but otherwise the world seemed quiet, patient, as though watching the pair that moved along its path.
Daniel was already restless. He kicked at every loose pebble he found, whistling tunelessly, his steps loud against the silence. Alexa, meanwhile, moved with purpose. She carried herself the way a soldier might: eyes scanning ahead, mind fixed on the destination rather than the journey. When she stopped abruptly beneath a crooked oak tree, Daniel nearly collided with her.
"What now?" he muttered, hands stuffed into his belt.
Alexa ignored him and slipped her pack from her shoulders. She tugged free a folded map, spreading it carefully against her knee while her other hand traced the faded lines.
"We should be here," she said quietly, pressing her finger to a notch between two rivers. "See? This ridge runs east, and if we've been heading straight, we must be right around this bend."
Daniel leaned closer, trying to see, but her hand covered most of the parchment. "Hey, let me see too!" he barked, jabbing at her finger with a bit too much force.
"Daniel!" Alexa hissed, jerking her hand back. A sting lingered on her knuckle. "The map isn't going to run away. What's wrong with you?"
Daniel smirked, unrepentant. "Just impatient." He leaned in again, squinting at the crooked lines. Alexa bent closer as well, their shoulders brushing as they studied the page.
"The nearest city is Thermyra," Alexa announced at last. She tapped the name scrawled in faded ink.
Daniel's grin was immediate and mischievous. "Thermyra? Never been. I hear they've got the best food in the region. Meat cooked until it falls apart, bread fresh from stone ovens, and ale so strong it puts hair on your chest."
Alexa groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're not going there so you can get drunk, Daniel. We have more important things to focus on. Losing yourself to drink will only make it worse."
He gave a theatrical sigh, rolling his eyes when she wasn't looking. "You really know how to ruin a man's fun."
Still, he said nothing more, and Alexa allowed the silence to linger before rolling the map away. The decision made, they prepared to set off again.
There were two possible routes: one that wound through the dense forest — slower, but relatively safe — and one that crossed the mountains to the south. The ridges were sharp and treacherous, crawling with creatures that prowled after dusk, but they offered the shortest distance to Thermyra.
"We'll take the woods," Alexa said firmly, already stepping that way. "It's slower, but it's safer."
Daniel laughed, a sharp bark of sound. "You're such a coward. Afraid of a few monsters?" He began whistling a mockingly triumphant tune, clearly enjoying himself.
Alexa stopped and turned toward him, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't a joke. Thermyra is dangerous. The Soldier of Fire rules there. Cross him, and you don't come back. Ever."
Daniel waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, come on. Do you really believe those old stories? Next thing you'll tell me, he's some giant lava monster who eats travelers alive." He puffed out his chest, his grin wide. "We're legendary heroes, remember? We can handle anything."
But Alexa only shook her head. "Merchants have spoken of it. Thermyra is strange. Those who enter don't return the same — if they return at all. It may be beautiful, but it is not safe."
Daniel snorted, feigning indifference. Yet Alexa noticed his legs trembling, the subtle shift in his weight as if he wanted to move but feared what lay ahead. The sight amused her, and she laughed quietly, the sound soft but cutting.
He scowled, gave her shoulder a light punch, and stormed off down the safer path. "Let's just get going."
The forest thickened around them as they walked, the canopy swallowing the sun in layers of green shadow. Their boots crushed leaves and twigs, the air filled with the earthy musk of damp soil. Birds flickered between branches, their calls sharp in the silence.
After some time, Daniel broke it with a question. "So what's Thermyra like? From what you've heard?"
Alexa's steps slowed. "A place no one dares to step foot in. Its people are said to be as ruthless as the Soldier of Fire himself."
"All I've ever heard about is the food and wine," Daniel muttered.
"Or is that all you chose to hear?" Alexa teased, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles.
Daniel shrugged, half embarrassed, half proud. "You're probably right."
For a while, they walked in silence again, the path winding deeper into the woods. Then Alexa spoke, her tone softer. "Meeting you was the last thing I expected after leaving Ghyl."
Daniel tilted his head. "Why?"
"Why?" she echoed with incredulity. "Let me think. First, I wake up to find someone stealing my tent, my food, and my water. Then I find that same someone passed out after nearly frying himself on my shield."
Daniel scratched at his chin sheepishly. "Ah."
"And don't get me started on how you never take me seriously."
"W–wait," Daniel stammered, raising his hands.
"No!" Alexa snapped. "We have to work together if we're going to save the world, and here you are treating it like a game!"
"N–no, behind you," Daniel whispered, his eyes darting past her shoulder.
Alexa froze, her stomach tightening. Slowly, she turned — and found only trees and foliage swaying in the breeze.
When she spun back, Daniel was already laughing, doubled over, his amusement ringing through the woods.
"You—" Alexa lunged at him, fury blazing in her eyes. Daniel yelped and bolted down the path, laughter spilling behind him as Alexa gave chase.
The chase between them stretched on longer than either expected. Daniel darted between trees, ducking under branches and vaulting over fallen logs with more energy than grace. Alexa, though less reckless, kept pace with ease, her strides deliberate, her eyes never leaving his back. His laughter echoed in the forest, carrying through the canopy like a wild animal's call.
When she finally caught him, it was not with her hands but with his own clumsiness. He stumbled on a protruding root, arms flailing as he barely managed to keep his balance. Alexa skidded to a stop behind him, her breath sharp but steady, and crossed her arms.
"You're insufferable," she said flatly.
Daniel straightened, dusted off his trousers, and grinned. "But entertaining."
Alexa rolled her eyes and walked ahead. "Only to yourself."
The rest of the afternoon passed in relative quiet. The forest seemed to change around them as the sun sank lower, shadows lengthening, the air cooling. Birds quieted, replaced by the distant hoots of owls and the occasional crack of something moving unseen. The safe route through the woods was safer only in comparison to the mountains; dangers still lurked in the undergrowth, though nothing dared approach the two travelers yet.
Daniel's whistling returned, softer this time, as though he were trying to ward off the silence. Alexa, however, seemed absorbed in thought, her gaze fixed ahead.
"You said the Soldier of Fire rules Thermyra," Daniel said suddenly. "What exactly do you mean? A soldier ruling a city? Doesn't sound like the usual story of kings and crowns."
Alexa didn't stop walking. "Not a soldier in the way you imagine. He is more… legend. Some say he was once a man, a commander who sold his soul for strength. Others claim he's no man at all but a spirit of flame bound to the city itself. Whatever the truth, Thermyra lives under his shadow."
Daniel smirked. "Sounds like a campfire tale."
"Then why are you shaking?" she asked without turning.
"I'm not shaking," he retorted, though his voice cracked just enough to betray him.
Alexa let out a soft laugh. "You'll learn soon enough."
The path wound downward, crossing a shallow stream whose water gleamed silver in the fading light. They paused to drink, cupping water in their hands. Daniel splashed some onto his face, groaning at the cold, while Alexa watched him with mild amusement.
"You're like a child," she said.
"Children are happier than most adults," he shot back, shaking his wet hair like a dog. Droplets sprayed toward her.
Alexa flinched, glaring. "Stop that."
He grinned and leaned against a boulder. "Admit it, you'd miss me if I weren't around."
Alexa paused, her expression unreadable. Then she shouldered her pack. "Don't test me."
The sun dipped behind the trees, and night descended swiftly. They lit a small fire by the side of the road, flames licking at dry twigs, smoke curling upward. Daniel sprawled beside it, arms folded behind his head, staring at the stars as they pierced the canopy. Alexa sat upright, her posture rigid, scanning the darkness as if expecting something to step out at any moment.
"You don't relax, do you?" Daniel asked.
"Relaxation gets you killed," she answered.
He chuckled. "Maybe. Or maybe it just keeps you from living."
She glanced at him, but said nothing.
The night passed with the usual restlessness of travelers. Strange calls echoed in the distance, branches cracked, and unseen eyes glowed faintly at the edge of the firelight. But nothing attacked. When dawn finally broke, Alexa stamped out the ashes, and they resumed their journey.
By midday, the woods began to thin. The trees grew sparser, the underbrush tamer, as if shaped by human hands. The air carried new scents: smoke, bread baking, the faintest trace of grapes crushed into wine.
Daniel sniffed loudly. "Smells like civilization."
Alexa quickened her pace. "We must be close."
Another half hour and the road crested a hill. When they reached its top, the sight spread before them made even Daniel fall silent.
Thermyra.
The city nestled in a valley of rolling hills, each slope covered in olive groves and vineyards that shimmered green and silver beneath the sun. The buildings shone with honey-colored stone, their rooftops terracotta red, their streets narrow and winding like veins. From above, it looked peaceful, idyllic even, like a painting sprung to life.
Daniel exhaled a low whistle. "Beautiful."
Alexa studied it with sharper eyes. "Deceptive."
They descended, the road winding toward the city gates. Yet as they entered, unease set in. The streets were empty. Sunlight bathed the stones, heat radiating from their surfaces, but no voices filled the air. Shutters were closed, stalls abandoned, doors barred. The only sound was the echo of their own footsteps.
"This doesn't feel right," Alexa whispered.
"Maybe everyone's at lunch," Daniel offered half-heartedly, though his gaze darted nervously around.
They pressed on, and only when they reached the town square did life appear.
It was as though the entire city had gathered there. Music blared from drums and flutes, filling the air with rhythm. Children ran laughing between garlands of flowers. Stalls brimmed with food, trinkets, and wine, their awnings bright with festival colors. The air smelled of rosemary and fresh bread, the sweet tang of fruit and the sharp bite of alcohol.
Daniel's eyes lit up. "Now this is more like it."
At the square's center stood not a fountain but a massive bonfire. Its stone base was carved with intricate patterns, ribbons tied along its edges fluttering in the breeze. Guards stood nearby, their stances rigid, their eyes sharp.
Alexa frowned. "Why guard a fire?"
Before Daniel could answer, a sudden ruffle at the back of their heads made them both start.
They whirled to find a man grinning at them — red-haired, goggles perched on his head, a crooked tie, a heavy coat draped oddly over his bare chest.
"Never seen you two before!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "You must be new here!"
Alexa and Daniel exchanged a glance, the silent message clear: Be careful. Don't reveal too much.
Daniel cleared his throat. "Yes. I'm Daniel, and this is my companion, Alexa."
The man arched an eyebrow, smirking. "Companion? Rather rude, don't you think, standing right next to her and calling her that?"
Alexa bristled. "What are you insinuating?"
"Nothing at all," he said innocently, though his grin remained. He swept into a bow. "The name's Fiero. Welcome to Thermyra."
Daniel and Alexa bowed back awkwardly, neither quite sure what to make of the man before them. Fiero's grin was too wide, his cheer too unshakable, as though nothing in the world could touch him. Alexa's instincts screamed caution, yet Daniel seemed half amused, half intrigued.
"You've come at the best time," Fiero declared proudly, clapping his hands together. "Today is the festival of Lady Cantar, our glorious goddess of fire! A day of joy, reverence, and celebration."
"Lady… who?" Daniel asked bluntly.
"Lady Cantar!" Fiero repeated, his voice lifting as though he were singing her name. "Our radiant goddess, the flame that guides us, the heart of Thermyra itself. Every year we honor her, and she blesses us in return."
Daniel and Alexa exchanged a glance. His expression said this guy's insane, while hers said don't underestimate him.
"Well, we can't have you wandering about lost and empty-handed!" Fiero cried suddenly. He clapped Daniel on the back so hard that the younger man staggered forward. "Come, friends! You must taste our delights!"
He dragged them toward a stall overflowing with sweets: candied figs, honey cakes, and pastries dusted in sugar. The air was thick with the scent of fried dough and warm spices.
But as the trio approached, the change in the townsfolk was immediate. Laughter dulled, chatter faded, and bodies shifted away. Men and women turned their faces aside, pulling children closer, as though proximity to Fiero — or perhaps his companions — brought misfortune.
Alexa's eyes flicked across the crowd. They're afraid.
"What's wrong?" Fiero asked brightly, glancing back at them.
"Nothing," Alexa said quickly, masking her unease.
The stall owner hurried to pack a generous bundle of pastries, his hands shaking slightly as he passed them across the counter. Fiero took them with a flourish, waving aside the matter of payment.
"You didn't pay?" Daniel blurted.
Fiero winked. "Why would I? I'm a big shot here. Everyone knows me."
Alexa narrowed her gaze. "Who exactly are you?"
"I told you. I'm Fiero."
"Yes, but what does that mean?"
Fiero only smirked. "It means enough."
Before Alexa could press further, a sudden weight collided with Fiero's back. He stumbled forward as a young girl clung to him tightly, her hair glinting in the sunlight.
"Brother! You're back!" she cried. Her voice was high and filled with relief. "I thought she sent you to take care of the—"
Fiero's hand clamped over her mouth before she could finish. "Yes, yes. I'm back," he said hastily. He forced a smile and gestured toward his companions. "And I've made new friends. Meet Alexa and Daniel."
The girl pulled free, straightening as she turned her bright eyes toward them. "I'm Fiori. This dummy's sister." She jabbed a thumb at Fiero. "I'm the brains. He's the brawn."
Daniel let out a small laugh, uncertain but charmed by her bluntness. "Daniel. Traveler."
"Alexa," she added with a polite bow.
Fiori's smile was quick but faded just as fast. "I'm going to the church," she announced, her tone shifting. "To pray before the feast."
Fiero waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. But be back before the night's acts begin. Our Lady will appear, and you won't want to miss it."
"I'll be there," Fiori replied, though her sigh suggested reluctance. She turned to leave, but not before casting a long, strange look at Alexa. For a heartbeat, Alexa thought she saw something in the girl's eyes — not fear, not hostility, but a flicker of intent, like a signal sent in silence. Then the moment was gone. Fiori turned sharply and hurried away.
Alexa frowned, unsettled.
Fiero seemed not to notice. With a grin, he thrust a box into their hands. Inside was a stack of pillowy pastries dusted with sugar, their golden crusts still warm.
"Thermyrian doughnuts," he announced proudly. "The pride of our festival. Try one!"
Alexa hesitated. Her instincts whispered caution — poisoned food, enchanted sweets, some trap cloaked in sugar and warmth. She shook her head. "No, thank you."
Daniel, of course, had no such reservations. He plucked one up, bit into it with enthusiasm, and nearly melted where he stood. "By the gods," he groaned, custard cream filling his mouth. "This is heaven."
"I know!" Fiero pointed at Alexa with mock offense. "And you refuse? A tragedy!"
"I'll survive," Alexa replied curtly, folding her arms. Better hunger than death by doughnut.
Daniel licked sugar from his fingers, utterly content. Alexa's expression made it clear she found him insufferable, but she held her tongue.
The festival swelled as the day wore on. Musicians filled the air with rhythm, dancers spun with ribbons trailing behind them, and stalls overflowed with goods. The townsfolk sang, clapped, and drank, yet beneath it all Alexa felt the undercurrent of something else. The laughter was too loud, the cheer too eager, like actors performing for an unseen master.
By the time dusk crept in, lanterns had been hung across the square. Their warm light flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows. Slowly, the music died. The crowd shifted toward the great bonfire at the square's center, its flames dwindling until only embers glowed.
Alexa and Daniel searched the crowd for Fiero but lost him among the press of bodies. They lingered at the edge, watchful, uncertain.
Then the fire went out.
The square plunged into darkness. A murmur rippled through the crowd, quickly silenced as every hand lifted a lantern. Hundreds of small flames bloomed, their glow casting the square in a sea of gold and red. Sparks drifted upward like stars torn loose from the sky.
From the northern pathway, figures emerged. At their head was a woman whose very presence stole the breath from Alexa's lungs.
Her hair glowed as though lit from within, a torrent of fire cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes burned like magma, hot and unyielding. Her skin gleamed with a sunlit sheen, as though the heat of the forge had kissed her. Every step she took made the air shimmer faintly.
Behind her marched a knight clad in full metal, visor lowered, face hidden. His armor reflected the firelight, every step ringing against the stone.
Whispers tore through the crowd as the woman reached the bonfire and raised her hand.
"Thermyra!" she cried, her voice resonant, carrying like a bell. "My people! We rejoice tonight, another year beneath my rule!"
The square erupted into cheers. Men and women screamed with joy, their voices raw, their faces fevered.
Alexa's stomach turned. The cheer sounded wrong. Too desperate, too unified, as if commanded rather than freely given.
The woman smiled. "Let the festivities begin!"
She lowered her hand, and the bonfire exploded back to life. Flames roared skyward, embers raining down. They scattered over the crowd but did not burn; people reached upward as though blessed.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the woman vanished, extinguished like a flame doused with water.
Only the knight remained.
He lifted his sword high, its blade gleaming in the firelight. "Another year under our Lady's grace!" he bellowed. "Rejoice!"
The crowd screamed again, wild with fervor.
Then the knight descended the steps, melting into the shadows of a group of cloaked figures. In moments, he too was gone.
Alexa and Daniel exchanged a sharp look.
"That was an outer god," Alexa whispered.
"Must've been," Daniel said. His bravado was gone, replaced by unease. "But… this doesn't fit. Everyone looks happy. No talk of missing soldiers. And the Lady… she seemed almost kind."
"Appearances deceive," Alexa warned.
The roar of the crowd still echoed in Alexa's ears as silence reclaimed the square. The Lady was gone, the knight vanished, yet the townsfolk remained transfixed for several heartbeats as if unwilling to blink in case the vision returned. Then, like a storm breaking, the festival surged back to life.
Musicians struck their drums harder, strings sang, and flutes trilled sharp and high. Dancers leapt into the firelight, their ribbons trailing like tongues of flame. Laughter swelled, wine spilled from brimming cups, and the air grew heavy with roasted meats and sweetened smoke.
Alexa and Daniel slipped away from the square, their steps carrying them toward the quieter alleys at its edge. Shadows clung to the walls here, broken only by the flicker of lanterns. The revelry seemed muffled, distant, yet it never fully disappeared.
"That had to be an outer god," Alexa said again, more firmly this time. Her voice was low, but her conviction rang clear.
Daniel nodded, though his brow furrowed. "It doesn't add up. You told me soldiers vanish, that the place is cursed. But look at them. They're celebrating. No fear, no mourning. They worship her like she's salvation itself."
Alexa's gaze swept the darkened corners of the alley. "You trust too quickly. Smiles can hide chains. Joy can be forced."
Before Daniel could reply, a familiar clap landed on his shoulder, nearly making him jump.
"There you are!" Fiero's voice rang out like a bell. He appeared from the shadows, grinning wide, as if he'd been beside them all along. "Why so glum? The night has barely begun!"
Alexa's eyes narrowed. "Where did you go?"
"Go?" Fiero blinked, tilting his head with mock innocence. "I never left."
Alexa opened her mouth to argue, but Daniel, perhaps eager to deflect, stepped in. "Doesn't matter. What now?"
"What now?" Fiero repeated, as though the answer were obvious. "Fun! There's a contest to the south — who can eat the spiciest peppers without fainting. And right here," he gestured grandly, "a drinking competition that would topple even the strongest of men. Which shall it be?"
Before Alexa could refuse, Daniel's eyes lit up. "Drinking," he said immediately.
Fiero's grin widened. "Knew you'd say that. Come on!"
He guided them back into the heart of the festivities. Torches lined the square, their flames guttering in the evening breeze. Long tables had been set out, mugs clattering against wood as men and women laughed, their cheeks already flushed. The scent of strong liquor cut through the air, acrid and heavy, making Alexa wrinkle her nose.
Daniel, however, looked like a child stepping into a toy shop. He took his place at the table, grinning at his competitors, most of whom were already swaying.
"Rules are simple," Fiero explained with flourish, hopping onto a bench. "Drink until you can't stand. The last one standing wins!"
A cheer went up, mugs slammed onto the table, and the first round was poured.
The liquor was thick, almost syrupy, and reeked of something between fire and rot. Daniel threw his back with a flourish, grimaced at the burn, then slammed the cup down with a triumphant shout. His competitors followed, some less gracefully.
The second round came, then the third. Alexa watched with growing irritation as Daniel leaned forward, cheeks red, grinning like an idiot. She stood with arms crossed, her eyes scanning the crowd rather than the contest, noting the way townsfolk stared too long, or how cloaked figures lingered at the edges of light.
By the fifth round, sweat glistened on Daniel's brow. By the seventh, he was laughing louder than anyone else, his voice ragged but unyielding. At the tenth, his head wobbled but he was still upright, grinning defiantly as his final opponent slumped forward onto the table.
"Champion!" someone shouted. Cheers erupted, hands pounding the table in rhythm.
Daniel raised his cup high, though his grip wavered, and bellowed something incoherent. He might have been proud, or simply drunk. Alexa stepped forward, catching his arm before he toppled sideways.
"You're hopeless," she muttered, half dragging him from the table.
Fiero bounded after them, laughing loudly. "Impressive! Truly! Few outsiders can stomach our drink, but your friend… he may have earned himself a place in Thermyra's stories."
Alexa shot him a withering look. "We're not here for stories."
Fiero only grinned wider, undeterred. "Then you'll find yourselves sorely mistaken. Thermyra is nothing but stories, woven by flame and song. Whether you like it or not, you're already part of one."
Alexa ignored him, guiding Daniel away from the crowd. The festival blared behind them, but the alleys grew quiet again, shadows stretching longer in the torchlight. Daniel stumbled beside her, still chuckling to himself, his words slurred.
"See?" he mumbled. "Told you… heroes… can handle anything."
Alexa tightened her grip on his arm. "You can't even handle a drink."
Yet her gaze remained wary, scanning the rooftops, the corners, the silent windows that watched without faces.
Something in Thermyra pulsed beneath the revelry, a heartbeat too loud, too steady. The goddess had vanished, yet her presence lingered like smoke, clinging to every stone. Alexa felt it pressing on her chest, heavy, suffocating.
And though Daniel stumbled along, drunk and foolish, even he must have felt it. His laughter faltered at times, fading into uneasy silence before he forced it back.
Behind them, the bonfire roared higher, sparks scattering into the night sky. The people cheered, their voices wild, their joy too sharp.
Alexa did not cheer. She only walked, dragging her companion forward, her jaw set, her eyes hard.
For she knew the truth: no festival, no feast, no goddess's smile could mask the chains hidden beneath Thermyra's fire.