The trio walked through the woods for hours, passing tree after tree. Curiously, the trees here were different—very different. Their bark was flecked through with slivers of gold, and their leaves were varying shades of a deep, rich brown, forming a tapestry of leaves above them. Valo, of course, didn’t know exactly what a tree should look like, so he didn’t think much of it.

Holly, however, stared at the trees as they passed them, wondering if there was a way to pry bits of it loose—earning a glare from Gino.

“I wouldn’t touch them, if I were you,” Gino suggested as they walked.

“Why not?” Holly asked.

“These are ancient trees,” Gino explained. “They’ve been here since… Well, since the dwarves received the Thought-Weave.” He looked at Holly. “Since your kind used stone clubs to murder each other.”

Holly stopped. “Do you… have a problem with me? With humans?”

Gino paused, facing forward as he stood beside Valo. He let out a long sigh and turned. “Humans have been trying to encroach on dwarven lands for years now, ever since the dragons disappeared. Before, entering dwarven lands was unthinkable. But our territory is slowly being chipped away.”

Holly paused, looking at Gino. She hadn’t heard of any formal campaigns, but she supposed there wouldn’t be. If humans were trying to steal dwarven land, they’d do it quietly.

“Well, I have nothing to do with that,” Holly said, with a shrug.

She sympathized with Gino, though. Unlike humans, dwarves lived with their dragons. A human mage often traveled hundreds of miles away from the dragon from whom they drew their power—but dwarves never strayed far. Dragons migrated, of course, but dwarves always remained near their Dragonlord’s Lair.

As a result, dwarves were fixed to the land itself. They couldn’t simply just leave it or be pushed off of it. They were as fixed as trees.

And the only way to clear the trees from a stretch of land was to burn them down. Knowing humans—her people, in the capital, at least—they wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

Gino sighed and shook his head. “I know…”

Holly stuck a hand out. “Truce?”

Gino hesitated for a moment, but extended his own hand and shook hers. “Truce.”

Relieved that his two comrades had resolved their differences, Valo took a breath. The cool, floral air gushed into his snout and down his throat, filling his lungs. But among the sweet scents of the forest, he caught a whiff of something… bitter. Sharp, harsh, ashen.

Smoke. Up ahead, a thin, silvery film of smoke weaved its way through the gold-flecked trees.

Valo waved Holly and Gino over, pointing ahead. “Look.”

Holly sniffed the air. “Smoke.”

Gino shut his eyes for a moment, connecting to the Weave. After just a few seconds, his eyes snapped open and he winced, his face twisting with discomfort. “We’re close,” he said gravely. “Just up ahead.”

Gino wasn’t the only one with discomfort on his face, though. Holly, too, stood with her nose scrunched and a frown deepening on her face. “Are you sure about this? I’m feeling a little…”

“Anxious?” Gino suggested, nodding. “Ill? Uncomfortable?”

Holly nodded.

“Dwarves are meant to be together,” Gino explained. “When a dwarf is alone, isolated from the Thought-Weave, their thoughts and feelings bubbled up inside them—like a waterskin filled with foaming ale.” He faced ahead. “Eventually, it bursts, and a dwarf’s Thought-Weave lashes out. You’re feeling what Alvarro is.” He frowned.

“Me?” Holly quirked a brow. “But… I’m not a dwarf. How’s that possible?”

“It… shouldn’t be.” Gino stared ahead, into the woods.

Holly froze, her face paling slightly. She glanced down at Valo, who, too, felt what she had.

Despite it, though, Valo was still determined to continue. The young dragon marched forward stubbornly. Gino dutifully marched along with him, and Holly trailed after them, her head on a swivel.

As they descended deeper into the woods, the glimmer of the gold in the trees started to darken. The air thickened with smoke, turning a sickly, heavy gray. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the slivers of light piercing through the canopy dulled as though the sun was setting. After a while, they found themselves entirely enveloped in darkness.

As they walked, the wind howled, carrying cold whispers to their ears. Each of them heard something different. Valo heard the quiet, menacing roars of beasts he didn’t recognize. Gino heard the voice of Alvarro, threatening him and his kin.

Holly heard her father’s voice, booming with the rush of the wind. She heard the snide whispers of court nobles, of High Wizards, of their henchmen plotting in the marble halls. She clamped her hands onto her ears, desperately trying to block out the whispers—but they only seemed to grow louder, as though bombarding her mind directly.

But, to her relief, they wouldn’t need to be out here for much longer.

In the haze of the woods, Valo noticed something—the edges of a structure, amidst a clearing. As they got closer, the shape slowly sharpened.

It was a house.

Gino winced, stopping where he stood. “There,” he muttered. “Alvarro’s in there.”

Holly glanced around nervously, scoping out the area. She didn’t see anything untoward, but her hand drifted down to her blade nonetheless. She stood ready for anything.

The trio ducked down behind a bush, staring at the long abandoned home. It was closer to a cabin, really, than a home, and it had long since fallen into disrepair.

The wood had been stained black by the weather, with streaks of muck stretching down from its patchy roof. The roof had been picked apart by the fowl winds of the forest, its few remaining tiles clattering gently. The boards that formed the wall had several uneven gaps and a few broken gashes.

But despite the present state of the cabin, it was obviously not dwarven work. It was far too even, far too well measured, for it to be dwarven. This was human work; each nail was, at one time, meticulously placed, and each board was perfectly straight. Over the years since it had been abandoned, it had fallen into disrepair—but the fact that it was still standing at all after all these years meant it had to have been well constructed.

“Y-You see anything?” Holly asked, her voice a nervous whisper.

Valo shook his head. “Nothing.” He glanced at Gino. “Are you certain he’s in there?”

Gino shut his eyes a moment—but they instantly snapped open. He nodded solemnly. “Oh yeah. He’s in there. I can feel his presence.”

“Then let’s go.” Valo leapt out from behind the bushes before either of his friends could object.

“Valo, wait!” Holly cried out, reaching for the young dragon. “We need to keep quiet,” she added, lowering her voice.

But Valo kept marching forward stubbornly, entirely unafraid of what lay within the cabin. Of course, he felt a pang of fear at the sound of roaring beasts around him—but Valo was more driven by his desire for answers.

When he reached the cabin’s door—crooked, barely hanging onto its rusted hinges and creaking in the wind—he snuck a peek into the darkness beyond, pressing his face, and his snout, closer. As soon as he did, though, the sharp, bitter bite of smoke hit his nose, forcing him back.

His nose—and his entire snout—tingled sharply. Valo stumbled back, pawing at his nose and scrunching his face as the tingling sensation grew.

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Meanwhile, Holly and Gino rushed up beside him, keeping their footsteps light. They came up behind the young dragon, circling around him.

But Valo's attention was entirely focused on whatever was happening to his nose. The tingling sensation grew and grew and grew…

“Valo!” Holly spat in a whisper. “You can’t just run up and—”

Valo took a sharp breath in—and a thunderous ha-choo rumbled from his maw. With it, a puff of flame flashed out—not enough to hurt Holly, but certainly enough to cause her to jump back, startled.

And certainly enough to stir the dwarf hiding inside the cabin.

As Valo rubbed his snout, the tingling sensation fading, a soft thud sounded from within the cabin. All three of them snapped to attention, their eyes fixed on the door.

Thud.

Thud, thud.

Clunk. Something tumbled to the floor and shattered with a loud crack. A voice from within mumbled something. Finally, a flurry of sounds—bedsheets shifting, things shuffling, something clinking.

And then the familiar thud-thud, thud-thud resumed, nearing the door.

Moments later, the crooked door whooshed open, yanked open forcefully by a dwarf—Alvarro. The dwarf stood only slightly shorter than Gino—though he was far less plump. His graying, pale skin hung loose on his bones. His eyes were hollow and sunken in, surrounded by dark circles.

“G-Gino,” Alvarro muttered, twitching as he spoke, barely able to string a sentence together. “I… What are you… Why…”

As he spoke, Valo caught a glimpse into his mouth and saw that his teeth were all rotten to the core. Alvarro shivered as he stood, as if he was freezing cold—but it was still warm outside, despite the cool winds; it certainly wasn’t cold enough to justify his shivering. The dwarf stared at Gino for a long moment, then glanced at Holly—and, finally, down at Valo.

Alvarro’s eyes went wide. “A drag… dragon.” He glanced back at Gino. “T-They’ve returned.”

Gino paused, staring at the dwarf—at someone he had once called a friend. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, Alvarro.” He pursed his lips. “At least, we don’t know right now. He was only just hatched—”

“D-D-D-Do you have any… any… p-pearls?” Alvarro blurted, his gaze snapping over to Valo. He added a slight bow, as an afterthought.

“No.” Valo narrowed his eyes at the dwarf. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. He’d never seen anyone—human or dwarf—acting like this. “Don’t you have plenty of them?”

“No!” Alvarro spat angrily, his face twisting suddenly. “I-I-I only have enough for myself!”

The dwarf spun and dashed back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Alvarro scurried inside, his footsteps like the pitter-patter of a rat.

Holly, Gino, and Valo all shared a look.

“Was he always like this?” Valo asked Gino.

Gino shook his head. “No. He was a little… erratic. But he wasn’t this bad.”

“What did he mean by… ‘for myself’?” Holly asked suddenly. “Did he mean that he was consuming the dragon-pearls?”

Gino furrowed his brow. “But… only dragons can consume them.”

Just then, they heard a sharp crack—one that Valo recognized immediately.

It was the crack of a dragon-pearl being split open.

At once, the trio rushed forward. Holly raised her foot and kicked the door in, blowing it back and shattering its fragile wood. They rushed into the darkness.

To their surprise, the inside of the cabin was shimmering. Every surface—the floor, walls, the table and lone chair, even the rough straw bed—was powdered by an uneven coat of shimmering dust.

Of dragon-pearl dust.

The entire cabin glittered like a starry night. A small fire, now reduced to just a few glowing embers, lit the entire room with the aid of the dragon-pearl dust. The room itself was just as decayed as the outside of the cabin: moss sprouted between the boards of the table; the chair was turned on its side and all but shattered; grass was bursting up from between the floorboards.

And in the corner, holed up with something in his hands, was Alvarro. The dwarf was rapidly fiddling with something as he was curled around it—like a rat clutching onto a chunk of cheese.

As the trio approached him, he glared at them from over his shoulder, his eyes darting from them back over to what he was holding and back to them again.

Holly marched over to him and gripped his right arm firmly, yanking him back.

Gino, too, stepped up beside her to help—but as he caught a glimpse of what was in his hands, he froze.

“Alvarro…” Gino muttered. “What are you…”

Valo scurried forward, weaving his way between Holly’s legs—and he too saw what Alvarro was doing.

In his hands, he held a small, wooden pipe—the kind that humans smoked tobacco out of. But there wasn’t any tobacco stuffed into it. Instead, a pile of shimmering shards poked out from within the pipe, a glittery residue coating the entire thing—and Alvarro’s lips. Looking closer, Valo saw a few embers crackling atop the shimmering shards, and a shining, iridescent smoke trailing from the other end of the pipe.

Dragon-pearls, Valo realized. Alvarro wasn’t giving them to a dragon. Alvarro wasn’t even merely hoarding them.

Alvarro was using them. That was what he meant by only having enough for himself. He didn’t want to share them with Valo.

Holly narrowed her eyes at the paraphernalia in Alvarro’s hands. “Is that…”

“Dragon-pearl,” Gino said, nodding. “That’s a dragon-pearl—crushed up and smoldering.”

“And he’s smoking it?!” Holly exclaimed.

“Where’s the rest of them?” Gino asked forcefully, stepping right up to Alvarro.

Alvarro, however, only looked away, shame washing over his face. “T-This is all I have! I s…” As he spoke, he trailed off, a spell of intense relaxation washing over him. The last puff of silvery smoke had clearly taken its effect—some of it was still trailing from his mouth with each word he uttered.

The dwarf fell limp as Holly held his hand firmly. Gino rushed forward and checked him.

“He’s… He’s okay,” Gino said. “Well, he’s not dying. I don’t know about ‘okay’…” A look of genuine concern washed onto his face.

Holly set him down on the bed, and the dwarf collapsed into a pile. She took a step back, standing with Valo and Gino.

The trio stood in silence—partly stunned, partly just unsure what they were seeing. For Gino, the revelation that a dwarf was consuming dragon-pearls left him unsure what to make of any of it. For Holly, the erratic behavior made her even more wary of Alvarro.

For Valo, he only grew more curious. Alvarro had consumed dragon-pearls. He didn’t think that was possible… Was it? It certainly seemed to have an effect on him—a powerful one. The dwarf lay there in a limp pile, his eyes glossy and barely open as he stared up at the air.

Was he seeing the same words Valo saw?

Valo peered at the dwarf’s eyes. They weren’t moving like they would be if he was reading something. But his pupils were dilating. He was certainly seeing something.

“Valo.” Holly nudged the young dragon and gestured to the bottom of the bed.

Valo bent down slightly and peeked under it. A trail of small glass shards—from dragon-pearls—and bits of stone led his eye further in, to an open pouch. Valo reached his claw in and grabbed it.

The pouch’s contents clinked softly as he lifted it. Inside, among the husks of glass and lengths of stone, Valo found three shimmering dragon-pearls.

The young dragon glanced up at Holly. “There are… three of them,” he said plainly. “Three dragon-pearls.”

“Three!?” Gino exclaimed. He peeked over to confirm. “He stole fifty-six of them!”

Holly gestured at Alvarro—at the silvery smoke stalking the cabin. “He must’ve used fifty-three of them.” She glanced at Gino, furrowing her brow. “How long did you say he’s been exiled?”

“Not long,” Gino answered.

“There’s something else in here…” Valo hummed, digging inside the pouch. He gripped the rough lengths and pulled them out.

At first, they looked like mundane shards of stone—some junk that Alvarro must’ve collected. But as Valo stared at the shards, he felt their magic—their irresistible pull. He’d felt the same allure once before—when he was staring at the obelisk in Ixiuul’s Lair.

They’re part of the obelisk, Valo realized. Thankfully, Alvarro hadn’t consumed these like he had the dragon-pearls. That raised another question in Valo’s mind: why had he taken them?

“The obelisk,” Gino muttered, seeing them in Valo’s hands. “Those are from the obelisk.”

“What’s he doing with those?” Holly asked. “Looks like he was smoking the dragon-pearls. But these…?”

They stood in uncertain silence, no ideas coming to any of the trio’s minds. What had Alvarro been doing with them? What had he been hoarding them for? They had some idea what he was doing with the dragon-pearls—that much was clear. But the shards of the obelisk? They were at a loss.

As they stood in silence, a dark wind howled around the cabin, whistling through the gaps in the thin wooden walls of the cabin. The darkness beyond the walls around them curled and swelled, like a monstrous tide. Valo, Gino, and Holly felt its presence—lurking there, watching them.

Stalking them.

Each of them felt the unease creeping up onto them. Holly found her hand drifting down to her blade. Valo found himself tensing his claws and spurring his Fire Breath Skill. Even Gino found himself balling his fists.

And all of them felt the same urge—to get out of here.

They shared a look.

“L-Let’s get him back to the Lair,” Valo suggested.

Holly and Gino nodded quickly.