-Tan'Thalon: Lower Ring-
Mist hung low over Tan'Thalon's Lower Ring at dawn. Calenelda had not slept. She had spent most of the night sitting cross-legged on the floor of her chamber, palms pressed against the stone beneath the keep, trying unsuccessfully to quiet her thoughts. The city had offered her every distraction it possessed—the steady tread of guards, the distant groan of machinery, Lazulli humming through conduits beneath the streets. None of it had helped. Because beneath all of it, no matter how deeply she reached into the earth, there was one presence she could not stop noticing. Talia. Calenelda had found her eventually. Not by sight. Never by sight. By the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat moving somewhere through the barracks. By the weight of her steps. By the particular warmth of her magic pressing faintly against the stone whenever she passed close enough. She had spent years learning to read the world through vibrations. Somehow, without meaning to, she had learned Talia too. And that frightened her more than anything she had found beneath the desert.
So now she walked. Stonefang padded silently beside her, massive paws splashing through shallow rainwater gathered between the uneven cobblestones. The streets were still mostly empty. Merchants had not yet opened their stalls. The morning bells had not begun their first call. For once, Calenelda was grateful for the quiet. Stonefang nudged her hand.
She sighed. "It's nothing."
He made a low sound in his throat.
Calenelda tilted her head toward him. "…You don't believe me either?"
Stonefang huffed. Despite herself, a small smile touched her lips.
"Traitor."
He nudged her again. Her fingers found the thick fur behind his ear. For a few seconds, she simply walked with her hand resting against him.
Then the smile faded. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with her."
Stonefang's ears shifted. Calenelda knew he didn't understand the words. Not really. That had never stopped her from talking to him.
"She kissed me." His ears perked. "Yes, I know. You weren't there. Don't look so interested."
Stonefang gave another soft huff. Calenelda exhaled through her nose.
"And then she ran away."
The words sounded smaller when spoken aloud. She hated that. Calenelda had never been particularly skilled at wanting things quietly. When she wanted an answer, she asked. When she wanted to fight, she fought. When something frightened her, she walked toward it until it stopped being frightening.
But Talia was not something she could confront with a raised fist and stubbornness. Every time Calenelda reached for her, Talia seemed to retreat. And yet—
She had kissed her. Calenelda shook her head.
"I don't understand people." Stonefang made a sound that was suspiciously close to agreement. "Don't start."
They continued through the narrow streets. Then Calenelda stopped. Stonefang took two more steps before realizing she was no longer beside him. His head turned. Calenelda stood perfectly still. Her expression had changed. The softness was gone. One hand slowly lowered toward the ground. Stonefang immediately became alert.
"What is that?"
Calenelda didn't answer. Her bare feet shifted against the wet stone. Something pulsed beneath them. Once. Twice. Then again. Not a tremor. A rhythm. Her brow tightened.
The city had thousands of rhythms. She knew most of them without thinking. Water moving through underground channels. Arcforge machinery beginning its morning cycles. The distant vibration of carts rolling across the upper streets. This was none of those. This was deeper. Artificial. A pulse travelling through stone that should have been silent. Calenelda crouched. Her palm settled against the cobblestones. The world opened around her. For several seconds, she listened.
Then her breath caught. "…There you are."
Stonefang moved closer. The resonance was coming from beneath the alley. Calenelda followed it with her senses, tracing the vibration through layers of stone until she found something that did not belong.
A hollow space. Recently carved. Hidden beneath the foundations. Her fingers moved across the cobblestones until they found the edge of a smooth section of stone. Too smooth. Too precise. She pressed against it. The panel shifted. A faint seam opened beneath her hand. Cold air breathed from below. Stonefang immediately recoiled. His hackles rose. Calenelda felt the sudden tension travel through his body.
"What?"
He growled. Not aggressively. Fearfully. That alone was enough to make her stomach tighten. Stonefang had followed her into ancient ruins. He had stood beside her against creatures far larger than himself. Calenelda had never felt him hesitate like this.
Slowly, she reached toward the opening. A staircase descended into darkness. From below came the faint smell of scorched metal. Lazulli. Old dust. And something else. Something biological. Calenelda's expression hardened. She already knew what Talia would say.
We investigate it together.
That was what Talia would say. Not because she trusted Calenelda. Because she didn't trust Calenelda not to throw herself into danger. And Calenelda—
For perhaps the first time since the temple—
understood why.
Her hand tightened against the stone. She thought about Talia standing before the council. The way her sword had trembled. The fear in her voice when she had asked Calenelda not to push.
Please don't.
Calenelda closed her eyes. If she told Talia about this, she would come. Of course she would. Talia would put on her armor, draw her sword, and walk beside her into whatever waited beneath the city. And if something happened—
Calenelda's chest tightened. No. She could not bear that. Not now. Not after realizing how much Talia had already begun to matter. Stonefang nudged her sharply. Calenelda straightened.
"I know." He growled again. For a moment, she almost laughed. "That's exactly what she'd say."
Stonefang tilted his head. Calenelda's smile was brief and sad.
"She'd be furious." Another growl. "Yes. You too."
She reached down, resting both hands against Stonefang's head. His breathing was quick.
"Listen to me." He went still. "There is something down there." The words tasted wrong. "Something that shouldn't be beneath this city."
Stonefang pressed forward. Calenelda immediately felt his intention.
"No." He growled. "No."
This time her voice was firmer. Stonefang's ears flattened. Calenelda swallowed. She hated the thought of leaving him too. But if whatever waited below frightened Stonefang enough to stop him at the threshold, then she was not about to drag him into it. She rested her forehead against his.
"I need you here." His breathing slowed slightly. "Guard the entrance."
Stonefang whined. Calenelda's fingers tightened in his fur.
"And don't follow me. Whatever is down there, I think it is what's calling to you."
He gave her a deeply offended sound. Despite everything, she smiled.
"There. That's the face she'll make too."
The smile disappeared almost immediately. Calenelda turned toward the staircase. Her hand found the wall. Cold stone. A descent. She took one step. Then stopped. Talia would be angry. Not merely because Calenelda had gone without her. Because she had lied by omission. Because Calenelda had made the decision for both of them. She knew that. And still—
Calenelda descended.
"I'll explain later," she whispered.
But even to herself, the words sounded uncertain. The staircase swallowed her. With every step, the city above faded further away. The air grew colder. The Lazulli glow deepened from its familiar blue into something sickly green.
Behind her, Stonefang remained at the entrance. Waiting. Listening. And somewhere far above, unaware that Calenelda had already disappeared beneath the city, Talia Surifarah began another morning. Calenelda kept descending. Alone. The hum grew louder. It pulsed through the stone beneath her bare feet. Not quite a heartbeat. But close enough that she couldn't stop thinking of one. The staircase opened into a cavern carved with brutal precision. Calenelda stopped at its threshold. Even without sight, she could feel the shape of the room through the stone. Metal tables. Restraints bolted into the floor. Fragments of machinery. Something crystalline scattered across the ground. And beneath it all—
residue.
Old magic. Pain. Her expression darkened.
"This isn't a laboratory."
She stepped forward. Her fingers brushed the edge of a shattered restraint. The metal was warped inward. As though whatever had once been held there had tried very hard to escape. Calenelda withdrew her hand.
"…It's a slaughterhouse."
The deeper she reached with her earthsense, the worse the place became. Hybrid signatures lingered in the walls. Bone reinforced with metal. Lazulli fused into living tissue. Magical scars burned into the stone itself. The same kind of corruption she had felt in the desert. Not identical. But related. A faint crackle sounded beneath her fingers.
Calenelda froze. Something lay near her foot. She crouched and found a thin crystalline shard half-buried beneath the dust. The moment she touched it, sound erupted from within. A distorted voice. Mechanical. Fragmented.
"Prototype One survives." Calenelda went still. "Spirit remains stable." A pause. "Adaptable flesh. A promising vessel."
The recording dissolved into static. Calenelda stared blindly toward the empty chamber.
"What?"
She turned the shard over in her hand. No answer came. Only the growing hum beneath the floor.
For a moment, she considered leaving. Finding Talia. Taking the evidence to the Council. Doing this properly. Together. Her fingers tightened around the shard. Then something pulsed deeper in the tunnels. A resonance answered from somewhere below. Calenelda felt it through her bones. And beneath the fear—
something else stirred. Curiosity. That reckless, infuriating part of herself that always needed to know. Talia would kill her. The thought came with unexpected warmth.
Calenelda sighed. "I really am going to regret this."
She tucked the shard into her satchel. Then continued deeper.
The corridor opened into a circular chamber. Calenelda stopped. Her earthsense expanded. Fifteen vertical structures lined the walls. Containment pods. Inside each—
something stood perfectly still. A Lazulli core rested at the center of the chamber. Its resonance was faint. Dormant. Waiting. Calenelda stepped inside. The first pod flickered. She felt the vibration.
Her expression changed. "…Oh."
A second vibration. Then a third. The chamber awakened. The blueish green core pulsed. One containment pod opened. Calenelda immediately slipped into her praying mantis stance. Another opened. Then another. Footsteps. Perfectly synchronized. Too light to be human. A voice vibrated through the chamber. Neither male nor female.
"Unauthorized presence."
Calenelda slowly turned toward it. "That's rude. I came all this way."
A pause. "Classification: mutable."
Her smile faded. "Threat level: unknown."
Calenelda loosened her stance a little. "Now that's just insulting."
The pods continued opening. Metal feet touched the floor. Fifteen signatures surrounded her. And then Calenelda felt something she had not expected. Recognition. Not hers. Theirs. The constructs were reacting to her. Their resonance shifted. Several of them leaned subtly in her direction. The central core pulsed harder.
The voice returned. "Anomalous resonance detected."
Calenelda's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Cross-referencing." The constructs went still. "Primary match unresolved." A pause. "Secondary match: incomplete."
Calenelda's heartbeat slowed. She didn't like that word. "Incomplete?"
No answer. Instead—
the constructs moved. Blades unfolded. Runes ignited along their limbs.
"Terminate intruder."
Calenelda exhaled. "Of course."
The first construct lunged. She slammed her palm into the ground. Stone erupted. And the chamber came alive.
"I've been waiting for something to vent my frustrations on." That familiar lopsided smile came to her lips again.
The ensuing fight was brutal. Not because Calenelda lacked power. But because these things learned. Every technique she used became something they adapted to. When she shattered the floor beneath them, their feet changed. When she trapped them in stone, their limbs adjusted. When she broke one—
the others learned from its failure.
"Well," She said, wiping some sweat from her brow. "If you're adapting, I guess I'll have to do the same."
Calenelda fought them with earth first. It was familiar. Reliable. A construct lunged, and she swept one foot across the floor. A ridge of stone rose beneath it, throwing its balance sideways. She pulled a large piece of stone from under her, shaped it into a long axe and in the same fluent movement followed the construct with her axe, the blade crashing against its armored shoulder and sending fragments of metal skittering across the chamber. Another came from behind. She ducked. A blade passed over her head. Her palm struck the ground. The floor buckled. Stone surged upward beneath the construct, catching its legs and hurling it into the wall.
Calenelda exhaled through her nose. "That's better."
But they kept coming. She shattered joints. Raised walls. Collapsed sections of floor. Every time she found a way to stop them, the others adapted. And somewhere between one strike and the next, she noticed something.
The vibrations were wrong. Not the constructs themselves. Their armor. Calenelda paused for half a heartbeat as one charged. She stepped aside and let it pass. Her fingers brushed across its metal plating as it went by. Cold. Dense. Familiar.
She tilted her head. "...Metal."
Of course. She could sense it. Not like earth. Not like stone. Something sharper. A tugging sensation beneath her awareness. The same strange force she had first felt after she met the Moving Mountain. Magnetism.
Calenelda smiled. "Well." She listened carefully. "No heartbeats.. That means.." Her smile grew wicked. "I don't have to hold back."
Another construct raised its blade. She lifted one hand. The creature stopped. Not because she had trapped it. Because something inside it had answered her.
Calenelda's smile widened. "Let's see."
She reached deeper. The sensation intensified. At first, it was almost pleasant. A faint pressure behind her fingertips. Then it moved up her arm. Her muscles tightened. A pulse of heat crawled beneath her skin. Calenelda ignored it. The metal within the construct trembled. Its movements became uneven. One of the plates along its chest suddenly pulled inward with a shriek.
Calenelda's eyes widened. "Oh."
She clenched her fingers. The construct convulsed. Metal tore free. Plates ripped from its torso. Bolts snapped loose. Strips of steel twisted violently through the air and slammed into the opposite wall. The construct staggered.
Calenelda stared. "That worked."
A sharp pain shot through her forearm. She flinched. For a moment, she couldn't move her fingers. Then the sensation vanished. Calenelda flexed her hand. Everything worked.
"...Interesting."
The remaining constructs rushed her. She raised both hands. The chamber erupted. Metal screamed. Armor tore apart as if invisible hands had seized every piece at once. Blades ripped from hands. Reinforced joints buckled. Spikes and plates tore free and flew across the room, embedding themselves into stone. Calenelda's breathing became ragged. She could feel everything. Every fragment. Every piece of iron. Every discarded blade. Every bolt.
But now she could feel something else. Her own heartbeat. Too fast. Her pulse hammered against her skull. Her fingertips went numb. A metallic taste filled her mouth. One construct remained. It charged. Calenelda lifted her hand. The thing stopped.
Her arm trembled violently. "Come on."
The metal resisted. Not much. But enough. She gritted her teeth. The sensation was no longer like pulling on something distant. It was as though invisible hooks had been driven through her bones and connected directly to the construct. Her shoulder burned. Her chest tightened. Something inside her screamed to stop.
Calenelda smiled through clenched teeth. "Not yet."
She pulled. The construct's armor ripped apart. A plate tore loose. Then another. Then its entire chest assembly violently collapsed inward. The machine dropped to its knees.
Calenelda staggered backward. For several seconds, she simply stood there. Her hands shook uncontrollably. Then her knees gave out. She caught herself against the floor with one palm.
"...Ah."
Her breath came in short, uneven bursts. She waited. Nothing moved. No footsteps. No attack. She forced herself upright. Her legs felt strangely distant. Calenelda crouched beside the nearest fallen construct and placed her palm against the stone beneath it. She searched. The earth whispered back. But there was no pulse. No rhythm beneath the shell. No living warmth. Nothing. Calenelda frowned. She reached toward the ruined torso and touched the exposed interior. Cold. Empty.
"As I expected...You're not alive."
She sat back on her heels. That explained the strange sensation. She hadn't been unable to sense them. There had simply been nothing to sense. Her mouth curled into a small, almost mischievous smile.
"Well, that makes this easier."
She stood. Immediately, the room tilted. Calenelda caught herself against the wall.
"...Less easy."
She waited until the dizziness passed. Her fingers still tingled. She slowly curled them into a fist. The magnetism was still there. She could feel it. But now she understood something. Earth answered her naturally. Magnetism did not. Earth was an extension of her senses. This was different. This had to be forced. And the harder she forced it, the more her own body paid for it.
Calenelda looked at the twisted metal embedded in the walls. Then at her trembling hands. She flexed her fingers again.
"So that's what magnetism can do."
A faint smile returned. Then she grimaced as another wave of pain ran from her fingertips to her shoulder.
"...And that's what it costs."
For the first time, she wondered just how far she could push it. And, more importantly—
how far she could push herself before the two became the same question.
Silence returned. Then—
Calenelda heard screaming. She froze.
Not through her ears. Through the stone. Her earthsense expanded instinctively. Heartbeats. Dozens. Human. Several weak. Several fading. And beneath them—
something else. Cold signatures. Dead flesh animated by magic. Calenelda's exhaustion vanished beneath a sudden surge of focus. Then a voice echoed through the tunnels. Hoarse. Furious. Refusing to break.
"HOLD THE LINE!"
Calenelda's head snapped toward the sound. The Iron Vanguard.
For one heartbeat, she thought of turning back. Finding help. Finding Talia. Telling her everything. But the heartbeats beneath the stone were already failing. She could feel them. Seven. No—
six.
Calenelda moved. "Hold on."
Stone bent beneath her feet. A path opened through the earth. She ran. And somewhere above, in the city she had deliberately left behind, Talia remained unaware that Calenelda had once again chosen danger alone. Not because she didn't trust her. Not because she didn't want her beside her. But because, for the first time, Calenelda understood exactly what it meant to be afraid of losing someone.
And she had decided—
wrongly—
that loving Talia meant keeping her away from the dark.
She ran toward the screams, stone buckling open in front of her to form a spiraling descent deeper into the tunnels. Behind her, a single Lazulli eye flickered weakly in a fallen construct— as if watching her go. Calenelda raced downward, stone bending beneath her feet as she forced it to form a ramp. The screams sharpened. Metal clashed with something wet and unclean. A voice echoed — a woman's, steady even as pain cracks through it.
"Hold formation! Shields UP—!" Serenya shouted.
A blast of necrotic force interrupted her, followed by shrieks of pain. Calenelda accelerated. The tunnel widened abruptly, opening into an old excavation cavern repurposed into a staging pit. Lazulli scaffolds crackled with stolen energy. The Iron Vanguard formed a crumbling shield wall against a massive ritual sigil drawn across the floor. And at its center—
The old man the vanguard had found in the old laboratory. Corpses fused with magitech plating staggered forward in jerks, limbs clicking like broken mechanisms.
"Your steel cannot stop progress! Ba'ham's design is inevitable!" The old man said exultantly.
Serenya braced with bleeding arms, her shield half-melted from entropy burns. She was in no better condition than her shield, but she still rallied her troops.
"Stand your ground! If we fall here, Tan'thalon—"
A corpse-machine crashed into her line. The Vanguard buckled. A trooper was flung aside and didn't rise. Calenelda reacted without thinking.
She leapt from the descending stone ramp, landing between the Vanguard and the necromancer. Touching down with one knee bent and one hand touching the ground. A perfect three point landing. She was a bit of a crowd pleaser. Dust exploded outward. The necromancer smiled.
"Ah, right as he said. You appear."
He raised a sigil. Calenelda moved first. Her foot touched the ground—
"Shatter."
A ripple of stone fractured the floor beneath the advancing corpse-machines. Several collapsed, limbs cracked against the sudden shift. The Vanguard stared in awe.
"Who—?" Serenya said, confused.
She got her answer when Calenelda lifted her hand again. The necromancer gestured sharply, pulling Lazulli conduits toward himself, feeding off the stolen lines. Three corpse-machines lunged at Calenelda. She braced. But instead of summoning stone, she inhaled. The air bent. A shockwave burst from her like a sudden gale, invisible but violent.
The corpse-machines were hurled backward, smashing into scaffolds with bone-cracking force. The air grew sharp around her fingers, vibrating, alive. Serenya went rigid.
"Air…? She's using air magic?"
A second wave of undead surged forward. Calenelda pivoted, drawing earth up in a jagged wall— then sliced it apart with a razor-thin blade of compressed wind. Stone and wind in the same breath. Impossible.
This left Serenya stunned. "Double… awakened…?"
Several Vanguard soldiers lowered their weapons in disbelief. They had never seen an elementalist use two elements at once. The necromancer faltered too, eyes widening.
"That— that's forbidden. That's imperfect. You cannot— you shouldn't exist."
Calenelda growled. "Too bad for you."
She slammed her palm to the ground. A pillar of stone erupted beneath the necromancer, throwing him off balance. Before he landed, she twisted her other hand. A whip of air lashed him across the chest, cutting open robes and grafted Lazulli plating. He hit the floor hard. The ritual sigil sputtered. The corpse-machines flickered, confused. Serenya seized the moment.
"Vanguard! Push forward!"
They charged, cutting down the staggering undead as Calenelda advanced toward the necromancer. He struggled upright, rasping.
"Ba'ham… guide me…"
"He's not listening." Calenelda said.
Stone spikes erupted around the necromancer, pinning him in an unbreakable ring. Wind gathered above her hand, humming dangerously. It started to crackle with lightning. One strike would end him. But she hesitated. Just a heartbeat, knowing the knowledge he carried might be vital. The necromancer took advantage, drawing hidden sigils in his blood. A teleportation glyph ignited under him.
Serenya shouted. "DIVINER! MOVE—!"
Calenelda startled, and released the build up tension. She threw it at the necromance. Arcs of lightning spread out, searching for prey. But the necromancer vanished in a burst of sickly green light, leaving only scorch marks and a fading echo. Calenelda's thunder reached further than she anticipated. It found something. And –
Struck the last corpse-machine and someone else, standing behind where the necromancer had been. A shout tore from a female throat before she collapsed. The chamber went still. The Vanguard breathed hard, staring at the stranger who saved them. Before they laid eyes on their fallen Commander. Sparks still flying from where the lightning had struck. And their saviour? She had vanished.