Clover stepped back from the wall and nodded. “An Illuminating Lance should take this down without too much trouble. It’s already weakened from the scorpion’s attacks. Stand back.”

I complied, watching from a safe distance as she gathered magic in her hand. Light particles swirled, coalescing into the familiar shape of a lance. Once it solidified in her palm, she hurled it at the wall. “Illuminating Lance!”

The lance struck, and the wall crumbled instantly. Clover nodded in satisfaction. I moved to her side, waving away the dust cloud her spell had stirred up. As the air cleared, I stepped into the room, only to freeze at the sight before us.

The putrid stench of rot hit me like a physical blow, and I fought back a gag, covering my nose. Bodies were strewn across the small room, a long-dead fire in their midst.

Clover grimaced as she joined me, also covering her nose. “I suspected this, but we had to be sure,” she said, shaking her head. “If we had more time, I’d give them a proper burial. We can return after we get the herb.”

I nodded, pushing deeper into the room, ignoring the sickening twist in my stomach. The bodies were in advanced stages of decomposition, their skin half gone. One body, in particular, caught my attention.

Dented and worn armor covered most of it, but what stood out was the thick chain wrapping around it, anchoring it to the wall. I knelt next to it, frowning.

“Why were you chained?” I muttered to myself. A helmet obscured the corpse's face, and I made no move to remove it. Considering the state of the others, it was probably a mess of maggots and I would puke if I saw that.

Clover rummaged through the camp behind me. “See if you can find any supplies that are still useful. They won’t be needing them.”

I acknowledged her with a hum but remained focused on the chained corpse. Something felt off–ominous. My finger trailed along the armor until it stopped at the chest plate. A symbol, half coated in grime. Tentacle-like tendrils branched out from under the dirt and, when I cleared it away, realization dawned.

That was Dawncrest’s sigil.

My stomach turned to ice, then lead, dropping to slam into the stone floor as the pieces started falling into place.

Ignoring my previous revulsion, I reached for the helmet. I needed to know. I could still be wrong. I had to be wrong. Dawncrest didn’t have many knights, even less who traveled away from the town, but there were still a handful. This might not be Gregory.

I held onto that desperate hope, fighting against the tiny whisper at the back of my mind that hissed that it was a false one. Through the fog clouding my thoughts, I vaguely heard Clover speaking, her tone concerned.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I didn’t respond, too focused on the armored figure. When I slid the helmet off, I met the hollow, rotted eyes of my longtime friend. Gregory's usually clean blond hair was matted with grime. The sight tore at my chest. He would have hated that, knowing how much he despised dirt. It had been a constant teasing point between us.

The air seemed thinner now, harder to breathe as I sank to my knees, waves of grief threatening to drown me.

Clover’s hand landed on my back, pulling me from the daze. I flinched and turned to her concerned gaze.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re shaking and paler than…” She stopped herself, but I knew the comparison she refrained from making–paler than a corpse. The image of Gregory’s decayed features hit me with the force of a war hammer. I shuddered.

“No, I’m not alright. Not at all.”

Her concern deepened as she glanced at Gregory's corpse. When she saw Dawncrest’s symbol, she hissed. “You know him, don’t you?”

I nodded, swallowing back bile. “We were friends since before I could remember. He and his sister–”

Wait, where was Sara?

I lurched upright, ignoring how Clover lurched back in surprise. I’d apologize later. Right now, I needed to find Sara. She was Gregory’s entire world. He would have wanted me to focus on her.

I’d want the same in his place.

Shoving the grief aside, I scanned the bodies for any sign of her familiar blonde hair. Hope flickered to life when I didn't find it, and I turned to Clover. She watched me warily, like I was a feral animal she couldn’t trust.

It twisted something in my stomach, but I shoved that aside. Sara could still be alive, that’s what I needed to focus on.

“There’s one missing–his sister. Sara never went anywhere without Gregory. If she isn’t here, then maybe she got away, maybe she survived!”

Clover’s wariness melted into pity. “Frederick, they barricaded themselves in here. If she wasn’t with them…”

She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. Logically, I knew the odds of Sara being alive when Gregory wasn’t were slim, but I couldn’t listen to logic right now.

This was my only hope, and I had to see it through.

Turning away from Clover, I reexamined the bodies. Maybe Sara had waited outside the dungeon or gone to Starkfell. Her absence here at least meant she had a chance.

…But why was Gregory chained?

A low dread built in my gut as a journal caught my eye. It lay next to the corpse of a woman, her robes marking her as a town cleric. I picked it up, hoping it held answers.

Flipping it open, I found the first and only passage.

We weren’t prepared for what waited on the third floor. There was no warning. One second Sara was laughing with Gregory, and the next that thing appeared. I’ve never seen a scorpion like it. It struck Sara before we could react, its stinger channeling an explosion.

There was nothing to heal by the time we could do anything.

Gregory though… Spirits above, we shouldn’t have dragged him in here. We should never have left her body out there with that thing. We’ll die in here just as surely as we would out there. At least if we’d stayed and fought, it would have been quick.

Even now, Gregory is struggling to break his chains, to go back. He knows she’s gone–it’s plain in the hollow grief in his eyes–but he doesn’t care. He belongs with his sister. He’s refusing to eat, claiming he has no appetite. I can’t blame him.

It doesn’t matter. Soon, we’ll all be joining her.

Clover was right. Sara was gone.