The Ashen Caves were more labyrinth than tunnel. Shadows twisted and stretched along jagged stone walls, faintly lit by veins of dull-glowing minerals. The air was thick with damp earth and something charred—like embers that had long since gone cold. Every step echoed, making it impossible to tell if the sound belonged to us or something else lurking deeper within.
I shifted my sight, dragon pupils cutting the dark into sharper lines. Cracks in the stone, dust shifting with our steps, even beads of moisture clinging to rock became clear. Unfortunately, Revik wasn't so blessed. He stumbled over a loose rock and swore.
"Gods, feels like we're walking straight into the abyss," he muttered. "How do we even know this is the right way? You don't, like, feel something? A magical pull toward the relic?"
Muir scoffed. "Oh, sure. Because that's how magic works. Just wait for it to serenade her with sweet nothings. Genius."
I ignored him. For once, Revik might have been onto something.
I slowed, then stopped. The others passed a few paces ahead before Raiden noticed I was still. He doubled back, steady as always. "What are you doing?"
"Trying something," I said flatly, keeping my eyes shut.
"Meaning?"
"All magic has a frequency right? Maybe these relics have a magical frequency that calls to the Primal Dragon. Like we are connected somehow?"
Raiden considered it, then exhaled. "Fine. It's a shot in the dark. But try."
"Wasn't asking for permission," I muttered.
His jaw ticked.
I shut out the sound of boots scraping stone, the hiss of unseen vents, even Raiden's breathing. I reached deeper.
The caves hummed with life—water dripping, tiny creatures scuttling, the low groan of shifting stone. And beneath it all—
There. A crackling hum, faint but resonant, threading through my bones.
My eyes snapped open. "Revik, you're a genius."
He blinked. "I am?"
"I heard it. The relic. Not exact location but a direction. It might get stronger the closer we get to it."
Revik puffed his chest. "See? Told you."
Muir smirked. "You've got to be joking."
I let a smile curl sharp. "Guess magic does whisper sweet nothings, to bad you're to much of an ass to listen."
Raiden's mouth almost twitched, but he said nothing. We pressed on.
The deeper we went, the heavier the air became. Metallic tang. Heat curling from cracks. My pulse drummed with the relic's call. Then another sound bled through—low, scraping, rhythmic.
"Wait." I froze.
Raiden shifted his ears. His jaw locked. "Shadow hounds," he said grimly. "A lot of them."
Growls echoed, one after another until the cavern vibrated with sound. The air thickened, suffocating.
They slithered from the dark—flesh and shadow bound together, bodies flickering like they didn't belong to this world. Ember eyes glowed in jagged skulls, spines jutted sharp from their backs, and claws raked furrows into stone.
"Fan out," Raiden ordered.
Lightning arced up his sword. Revik dropped to my flank, steel ready. Muir gathered water, a coil twisting around his hand like a serpent.
The first hound lunged. Raiden met it mid-air, slicing its chest. Black mist sprayed, but the wound stitched shut, shadows knitting back together.
"Great," Revik snarled. "Things that don't die."
"No shit!" Muir snapped, slamming water into a second. It shattered against the wall, only to reform, eyes burning hotter.
Another lunged at me. I shifted, claws raking its throat. Shadows split but sealed again. My tail whipped low, sending another sprawling. Useless.
"Hacking away isn't working." I panted "we need to try something else."
Raiden's blade blazed, lightning crackling down the steel. He cut through a hound—only for it to knit itself back together. Infuriating.
"Damn it," he growled, striking again. Same result.
Beside him, Muir lashed a torrent of boiling water across another. Steam hissed, shadows shrieked—then pulled tight and reformed, eyes flaring brighter.
"Well I'm open to suggestions." Muir spat, frustration edging his voice.
Revik swore, steel flashing as he fought three at once, raw strength keeping them at bay but not slowing them. "Well, this is going well," he barked, sweat beading on his brow.
I staggered back, my mind racing. Nothing worked. Not steel, not lightning, not water. These things weren't alive. They were darkness given shape. How in the hells were we supposed to fight shadows?
And then—
The voice. Deep, resonant, vibrating through my bones, the same that had haunted me before.
Use your light, child.
My chest tightened. "No," I whispered under my breath. Not that. Not again. I can't control it.
Your light, the voice pressed, unyielding. Call it, or fall here.
Another hound lunged, nearly knocking me off my feet. I slashed with claws, but again it only reformed, jaws snapping inches from my throat.
I had no choice.
I dragged in a breath, every part of me trembling. Heat prickled under my skin, violet sparks flickering at my fingertips. The fire that wasn't fire. The power that wasn't entirely mine.
"Fine," I hissed. "But if this kills me, I'm blaming you."
Violet fire roared to life in my hands, searing bright against the endless dark.
The Shadow Hound before me faltered, its ember-eyes flickering as if it recognized the danger.
"Gods," Revik breathed, stumbling back. "What in all the hells—"
Muir froze mid-strike, water coiling useless at his side. His smirk finally slipped, replaced by sharp, startled fascination.
Raiden's blade hung mid-swing, lightning dancing uselessly along the steel. His gaze locked on me, I felt the weight of it pressing heavy against my skin.
The voice thundered again. Now—let it shine.
With a ragged cry, I hurled the violet fire. It exploded through the nearest hound, shredding its body to smoke. The flames clung, burning from the inside out, until nothing remained but ash that dissolved into the air.
The cavern fell silent. Every hound froze, ember-eyes flickering as though they suddenly remembered fear.
Then they came at me. All of them.
"Lyra!" Raiden roared, lunging to intercept—but they just ignored him and kept coming.
"Keep them off her!" Raiden barked, voice raw.
I screamed, dragging more of the violet fire out, even as it ripped through me like molten glass. Another blast. Another shriek. More shadows turning to smoke.
Each spark of power threatened to consume me, but I couldn't stop. Not now. Not with him watching. Not with those things closing in.
Raiden cut one off my flank, lightning driving it back just long enough for me to breathe. Muir sent a wall of steam to scatter another, but his eyes never left me. Not in fear. Not in disgust. Something sharper.
The last of the hounds dissolved into smoke, their shrieks fading into silence. My chest heaved, violet fire still sparking at my fingertips. I stumbled the exhaustion hitting me all at once.
For a moment, no one moved. Revik stared like he didn't recognize me. Muir's smirk was gone, his expression sharp, calculating. Raiden's gaze pinned me, unreadable but heavy.
Then the mountain groaned.
I looked up. A jagged crack split across the cavern ceiling, stone grinding against stone. Dust rained down.
"RAIDEN MOVE!" I shouted.
A section of the roof gave way. Time seemed to slow—the wall of stone breaking free, tumbling straight toward him.
I didn't think. With the last of my strength, I lunged, shoving him hard. He stumbled clear just as the slab crashed down between us, splitting the cavern in two. The impact shook the ground, choking the air with dust and smoke.
"Lyra!" Raiden's voice thundered on the other side, muffled by rock.
I coughed, dragging myself upright, limbs trembling. Muir's silhouette emerged beside me, clear on my side of the divide.
"I'm okay!" I called.
"I am to, for anyone that cares." Muir interjected.
"No one does." Revik replied dryly.
Raiden tried blasting through. Lightning cracked, shaking the cavern, but the rock held. The scent of ozone lingered.
"Obsidian this thick, lightning won't do anything." Muir spat.
Raiden cursed. "Stay put. We'll find a way around. And Muir—if you so much as—"
"Relax," Muir cut in, smug. "I will keep your precious Primal nice and cozy."
A growl rumbled from the other side. "Muir I'm warning you!"
"Yeh, yeh."
"What's wrong with you?" I muttered at Muir.
He only shrugged. "He's fun to rile up."
I ignored him.
"Stay put! We'll find a way to you!" Raiden's voice carried faintly through the black wall.
"How exactly do you expect us to do that?" Revik shot back.
Silence followed. Heavy. Useless. We couldn't just sit here. The shadow hounds could come back… or something worse.
I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing steady. The hum was louder now, twining into my heartbeat until it felt like it was pulling me forward. "That way," I said, pointing into the dark.
Muir's smirk was audible. "Not gonna wait for princey boy's orders?"
"He doesn't control me," I snapped. It came out thinner than I'd meant, but I held his gaze anyway.
"Well then…" he gave a mocking little bow, "lead the way, magic whisperer."
We pressed deeper. The air thickened with heat, veins of molten rock glowing faintly in the walls. My pulse synced with the hum.
"So. Just you and me, oh primal one." Muir drawled.
"Unfortunately."
"You might start liking me by the end of this."
I scoffed. "Highly unlikely."
We pushed on. The ground shivered—then gave way.
Stone crumbled beneath our boots.
"You've got to be fucking kid—" The rest of my curse vanished as the ground gave way.
We hit hard, crashing into a lower cavern. Dust billowed. The air scalded hot, searing my lungs. My shoulder throbbed where it slammed against stone — just another bruise to add to the growing list.
"Well," Muir coughed, pushing himself upright, "can't say that's my favorite way to travel."
I groaned, dragging myself to my feet. "Gods, what else is this cave gonna throw at us?"
Muir didn't answer. He just tapped my shoulder.
"What?" I snapped, irritation sharp in my voice.
He didn't bother with words — only tilted his chin toward the glow behind me.
I turned.
And froze.
The cavern glowed with veins of molten rock. Heat shimmered, blistering the air. And at its center, coiled and waiting, scales glowing like molten fire—Lava serpent.
Its body wound across the cavern floor like a living river of stone, obsidian scales fractured with glowing seams of magma. Heat poured off it in choking waves, filling the air with the stench of sulfur and char.
When it shifted, the cavern floor hissed and cracked, molten trails searing into the rock where its weight dragged.
Its head rose from the coils, jagged horns jutting back like shards of volcanic glass. The serpent's maw yawned wide, lined with fangs that dripped glowing saliva, hissing as it hit the ground and burned holes through the stone.
Then its eyes locked onto us—golden, molten, predatory Not intelligent, not protective. Just hunger.
And fresh prey had just stumbled, unwilling, into its den.