Midhir and Arwen rejoined the others as they finished putting out the flames slowly consuming the serpent’s body.

“Thank you both,” Lonan bowed his head before rummaging through his pockets. “This specimen must be studied – though the scholars at the capital will be quite mad at me for letting you kill it.” He nervously chuckled before pulling out a rather large, yellow gemstone out of his pocket.

“We didn’t have much of a choice,” Willow shrugged. “But I do wish it wasn’t immediately hostile…” she shot a glance at Arwen. “On that thought, how is he?” She tilted her head towards Midhir.

“He’s physically fine, albeit exhausted,” Arwen replied with a faint smile. “But we’re dealing with more than physical dangers right now, so I recommend caution still.”

“That’s a given,” Willow said. Before she could continue, reality around the serpent’s lifeless body twisted and changed, and it vanished into the large, yellow holding gem in Lonan’s hand. Startled, she nervously chuckled before continuing. “We’re all tired, and still no closer to our actual goal.”

She was right. Midhir let out a sigh as he nodded. He was beginning to suspect they were mistaken. What if the overgrowth wasn’t creeping towards Bareon because of a specific thing? What if there was no way to prevent it? What if it was just creeping closer because it was the only direction it could continue to grow?

He walked towards the stake he had previously struck the ground with and pulled it out of the sand. It hadn’t been destroyed like the other one. With a breath of relief, he put it into his holding gem, and returned to the others as they discussed what to do next.

A caw startled them.

With a flinch, he turned towards the raven standing a few dozen steps away from them.

It had stretched its wings and seemed to be trying to catch their attention. It ruffled its feathers, hopped back and forth on the fine sand, and cawed again.

“What is it doing?” Willow muttered under her breath as she narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe we should follow it.” Arwen tightened her grasp on the shaft of her staff. “It helped us fight the serpent, maybe it’s an ally.”

“Yeah, but…” Willow tilted her head. “It’s a raven. I don’t understand how it can be an ally. Raven’s aren’t quite that smart.”

Lonan cleared his throat. “You’d be surprised. They are brilliant creatures, and loyal too.”

Alistair let his spear vanish into his holding gem. “But who is it loyal to?” He asked with a grim tone before starting to walk towards it. The others followed him, and as they approached, the raven took off again with a powerful beat of its wings.

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It flew slowly, circling in the air, under the inverted lake often as it waited for them to catch up.

Midhir felt a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have much time left.” Alistair softly spoke, keeping his voice low. “I’ve lost track of time, but if I had to guess, I’d say we’re just a few hours from sundown. We must hurry.”

The young Orlein spoke with a tight jaw. He was worried, afraid even. It was clear from his eyes. He feared for his people.

“I know,” Midhir’s voice was but a whisper as he shot a glance upwards, at the inverted lake above them. Despite being here for a while, it was still disorienting. “Surely we’ll find something.”

Alistair’s lips formed a thin line. “Surely,” he repeated quietly, with little confidence in his voice.

They didn’t walk much longer before the raven cawed again. It beat its wings and flew forward. Soon, Arwen’s light illuminated what it flied towards – large structures in the distance, perturbing from the sand-covered ground.

Alistair drew a sharp breath. “There!” He pointed towards the structures before hastening his steps. They followed him, and soon arrived at the edge of the structures.

They were each made of white chalk-coloured stone, and were shaped like naturally occurring rocks, forming a rather large circle. The rocks were decorated with intricate carvings – a language he had seen before but could not read.

He felt his chest tighten as his gaze turn to the centre of the circle. There was an altar, just large enough for an adult to lay on, made of the same chalk-coloured stone. It was carved intricately, decorated with root-like tendrils, flowers and leaves all made out of the same chalk-like stone.

He took a step forward, closer to the circle. It was beautiful and ancient. How these were preserved so wonderfully throughout what could be centuries, or even millennia was beyond him. He wanted to step closer, to take a better look.

He needed to approach the altar.

A hand caught his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ve seen this structure in old scrips that predate the Empire.” Lonan’s sharp voice echoed in the darkness. The historian didn’t let go of him, instead, his gaze turned to the raven sitting atop one of the large rocks making up the circular formation. “A raven is a loyal creature, but Lord Alistair is right – we don’t know who it is loyal to.”

“It did lead us here,” Alistair folded his arms. “And that does look like an altar. What do you know about it, Lonan?”

The historian scowled. “The old scripts called these structures ‘Hallowed Grounds’. At least that’s the best translation the scholars came up with.” He seemed hesitant. “They were apparently awakened when a grave danger presented itself, and required a sacrifice of ‘Blood Petals’,” he shrugged, “I don’t know what that means.”

Midhir knew. His hand caressed the glowing flower, its petals gradually turning more and more crimson. The blue centre was almost completely gone.

“Can we use it to protect Bareon?” Alistair asked.

“No,” Lonan replied with certainty.

“Yes,” Arwen spoke with a fire in her eyes.

Their voices faded away as he tilted his head. He took another step forward, and rested his hand against the large, chalk-stone rock. It was cool to the touch, and smooth despite the symbols carved into its surface.

He ran his fingers along the symbols, recognising them from the sword-spear, and the small monument he found outside Bareon.

“Are you willing to give away a life for a chance to stop the overgrowth?” Lonan’s raised voice startled him.

“It won’t take a human life – you said blood petals. We are not plants.” Arwen calmly retorted before glancing at Alistair. “It’s your call, Orlein.” Her voice was cold as ice, and so was her decisive gaze. “If you want to save the city, this is your only chance.”

“If you do this, you will awaken something.” Lonan pleaded, pointing at Midhir. “They almost used him to awaken an Old God. Don’t complete their mission for them, I beg of you.”

“It is already awake,” Midhir absentmindedly spoke as he stepped into the circle. “They succeeded.”