Aviva crouched near the edge of the ravine, her boots crunching against loose gravel as she scanned her surroundings. The rocky walls rose on either side of her, their jagged surfaces draped in tangled vines and dotted with patches of moss. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her knife, her senses sharpened as she moved carefully through the unfamiliar terrain. Every sound—the distant trill of birds, the rustle of leaves in the breeze—sent her heart racing.
She had no idea how far she had drifted before washing ashore, but she had to figure it out. Her immediate priorities were water and food, but her mind kept circling back to Pag. Was he still fighting his way through the pit? Had he managed to survive without her there? She bit her lip, shaking the thought away. She had to focus on the here and now.
Following the flow of the ravine, Aviva found herself descending into a tropical savannah. The landscape unfolded with a wild and vibrant energy—tall, golden grasses swayed in the breeze, dotted by clusters of acacia-like trees whose twisting branches bore vivid green leaves. The air was thick with humidity, her skin sticky under her clothes. Towering in the distance were thick jungle-like forests, their canopies a riot of emerald and turquoise hues.
Kneeling by a shallow stream that meandered through the grasses, Aviva dipped her hand into the cool water, bringing it to her lips cautiously. The taste was clean, fresh, and she drank deeply, relishing the momentary reprieve from her dry throat.
But as her eyes scanned the savannah, she began to notice the telltale signs of wildlife. Tracks pressed into the dirt, large and heavy—hoofed, perhaps? There were droppings as well, scattered among the grasses, and the distant movement of something large rippling through the horizon. She tensed, realizing these were not creatures she recognized from the Sundered Continent or Gelt. Her pulse quickened.
This isn’t Draggor’s domain, she thought, her mind whirring. Nor Gelt or anywhere under the Lunar Empire. She crouched lower, her fingers brushing the soil as she inspected the tracks more closely. They were far larger than those of any mundane creature she had encountered. Her gaze drifted to the horizon, where the jungle shimmered like a mirage in the humid haze.
The realization settled over her like a heavy weight. The wildlife, the climate, the sheer density of life—it all fit the fragmented descriptions she’d heard in passing. The Emerald Expanse, the legendary and scarcely explored continent of Prasine.
Prasine was a land shrouded in mystery and danger. Few dared to venture here, and fewer still returned to tell the tale. Ancient ruins supposedly littered the dense jungles, whispers of a civilization lost to time. Some spoke of strange, glowing flora with alchemical properties, while others warned of beasts unlike anything seen on the other continents. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
She rose to her feet, her gaze shifting to the thick canopy in the distance. If she truly was on Prasine, she would need to find shelter before nightfall. The savannah was too exposed, and the predators here… well, she didn’t want to find out what lurked in the tall grasses.
Her thoughts turned back to the rumors of ruins and artifacts. If she could find evidence of the fallen civilization that once ruled this land, perhaps there would be clues about how to navigate it—or how to get back to Pag.
She tightened her grip on her knife, her determination hardening. Whatever this place held, she would face it head-on. For Pag. For survival. For the answers that always seemed just out of reach.
As Aviva pressed forward, her movements became methodical, every step placed with caution. The ravine’s slope leveled out, spilling her onto a flat stretch of the savannah. The grass brushed against her thighs, golden blades interspersed with vibrant wildflowers whose colors seemed almost unnatural—electric blues, fiery oranges, and deep purples. In the distance, a small herd of creatures grazed lazily under the shade of a cluster of trees.
From afar, they looked like some amalgamation of antelope and boar—broad bodies covered in iridescent fur that glimmered with hues of green and bronze, their elongated snouts rooting through the dirt while their curling tusks gleamed in the sunlight. She stopped in her tracks, crouching low and observing.
“They’re not hostile… yet,” she muttered to herself, taking slow, shallow breaths. Still, her hand remained on her knife, ready to defend herself if necessary. Aviva knew better than to underestimate wildlife in an unfamiliar land. Even something as seemingly harmless as a grazing herbivore could become deadly if provoked.
The creatures snorted and flicked their tails, entirely uninterested in her presence. The sight was strangely comforting. If animals like these roamed here, it meant she wasn’t anywhere near the Sundered Continent. The brutal, ash-swept wastelands where Draggor’s armies prowled held no life so abundant or unscarred.
Aviva rose from her crouch, careful to remain silent. Her gaze swept across the horizon, her sharp eyes searching for anything that might resemble ruins. She remembered the stories: stone temples overrun by vines, forgotten towers crumbling under the weight of the jungle’s relentless growth. If she could find one of those landmarks, she might find shelter—and perhaps some answers.
She walked along the stream, letting its gentle babble guide her deeper into the savannah. The air grew warmer with every step, the humidity clinging to her skin. The grasses began to thin out as she approached the jungle’s edge, replaced by an underbrush so dense it looked impenetrable. The sounds of the savannah faded, replaced by the cacophony of life in the jungle: the shrill calls of unseen birds, the buzzing hum of insects, the occasional rustle of leaves as something unseen moved through the shadows.
Aviva hesitated, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. The jungle was alive with movement, but she couldn’t yet discern whether it was friendly or hostile. Her survival instincts warned her that venturing too deep without a plan could spell disaster. She glanced up at the towering trees, their trunks shimmering faintly in the light. Iridescent bark—just as the stories described. Prasine. She was certain now.
Before she could gather her thoughts, a sudden rustling in the underbrush made her freeze. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her knife as her eyes darted toward the sound. Something was moving just beyond the edge of the jungle, hidden by the thick foliage.
She crouched low, her muscles coiled like springs, ready to act. The rustling grew louder, closer, until a figure burst through the greenery and into the open.
It wasn’t an animal.
It was humanoid, but not quite human. The figure stood shorter than her, its body covered in smooth, jade-like scales that caught the light and shimmered with every movement. Its large, almond-shaped eyes gleamed with an intelligent curiosity, and its elongated fingers clutched what appeared to be a crude spear made from bone and crystal.
Aviva held her breath, neither retreating nor advancing. The creature tilted its head, studying her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. Was it hostile? Neutral? She couldn’t tell.
“I don’t want trouble,” she said cautiously, keeping her tone low and even. She raised her free hand slowly, palm open, a gesture of peace.
The creature made a chittering noise, its head snapping to the side as if listening to something she couldn’t hear. Then it stepped forward, its movements deliberate and calculated. Its gaze flicked to the knife in her hand, and Aviva felt a surge of tension. Was it assessing her as a threat? Or simply curious?
Before she could speak again, the creature lifted its spear and slammed the butt into the ground, producing a sharp, resonant sound that echoed through the air. The jungle seemed to respond—a sudden stillness falling over the cacophony of noise.
Aviva’s heart raced, but she didn’t move. She watched as the creature pointed toward the stream, then gestured toward the jungle, its movements quick and fluid. It was trying to communicate, though the meaning of its gestures escaped her.
“You want me to follow you?” she asked uncertainly, pointing at herself and then toward the jungle. The creature clicked its tongue, seemingly impatient, and gestured more emphatically.
Aviva hesitated. Following this stranger deeper into the jungle could be a trap. For all she knew, it could lead her straight into the claws of some predator—or worse, a tribe that didn’t take kindly to outsiders. But if she didn’t follow, she might lose the one lead she had. Perhaps this creature knew something about the ruins, or the dangers of the land.
Finally, she nodded, rising to her full height. “Alright,” she said, keeping her knife at the ready. “Lead the way.”
The creature turned without hesitation, slipping back into the dense underbrush. Aviva followed, her nerves taut as a bowstring. She didn’t know what awaited her deeper in the Emerald Expanse, but one thing was certain—her journey through Prasine was only just beginning.
Aviva ducked under the thick curtain of vines as she followed the scaled creature deeper into the jungle. The air seemed to grow heavier with every step, the heat clinging to her skin like a second layer. Around her, the landscape transformed into a world both beautiful and unsettling. Towering trees with iridescent bark reached impossibly high, their leaves filtering the light into a mosaic of shifting greens and blues. Giant, luminescent flowers, their petals the size of shields, pulsed faintly with a soft, inner glow.
The creature moved swiftly, its movements so fluid it seemed to glide through the dense undergrowth. Every now and then, it glanced back at her with those large, gleaming eyes, as if to ensure she was still following. Aviva, for her part, remained wary. Her knife stayed in her hand, and her senses were on high alert. She noted every shift in the foliage, every rustle of unseen creatures in the jungle’s depths.
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“What are you taking me to?” she murmured, though she didn’t expect an answer.
The creature responded with a quick series of clicks and chirps, its voice melodic but unintelligible. It gestured again with its spear, pointing toward a faintly glowing trail ahead. The light seemed to come from the ground itself, small clusters of bioluminescent fungi marking a winding path through the jungle.
Aviva paused, frowning. She crouched to examine one of the glowing clusters, her knife at her side. The fungi were strange—translucent, with veins of shimmering green coursing through their fleshy caps. Carefully, she ran a finger over one, and it released a faint, warm glow that tingled against her skin. She withdrew her hand quickly, half-expecting it to burn or sting, but it didn’t.
The creature made an impatient sound, snapping her attention back to it. It gestured once more with its spear, this time more insistently.
“Alright, I’m coming,” she muttered, rising to her feet. Her gut twisted with uncertainty. This place felt alive in ways she couldn’t fully explain, as though the jungle itself was aware of her presence.
They pressed on, the path winding deeper into the heart of the jungle. The sounds of the savannah faded entirely, replaced by a symphony of new noises—low, guttural calls that reverberated through the air, high-pitched chittering from unseen creatures, and the occasional distant roar that made Aviva’s pulse quicken.
As they walked, Aviva noticed more signs of life. Strange, bird-like creatures with scales instead of feathers flitted between the trees, their eyes glowing like lanterns in the dim light. Once, she caught sight of a massive serpent coiled around the trunk of a tree, its skin shimmering with the same iridescence as the bark. It watched her pass with unblinking, golden eyes, but it made no move to strike.
The creature leading her finally came to a stop at the base of a colossal tree, its trunk wider than any she’d ever seen. Vines and moss covered its surface, and its roots twisted into the earth like the coils of a great serpent. At the base of the tree was an opening, framed by gnarled roots and glowing faintly with the same green light as the fungi.
The creature turned to face her, raising its spear and tapping it twice against the ground. It made a short series of clicks and whistles, gesturing toward the opening.
Aviva hesitated, her grip tightening on her knife. “You want me to go in there?”
The creature tilted its head, its expression unreadable, before stepping aside and gesturing more emphatically.
She glanced at the dark opening, her instincts screaming at her to turn back. But she couldn’t ignore the possibility that this might lead to something important. Ruins, perhaps? Or shelter? Maybe even answers about where she was and how to survive in this place.
“Fine,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She stepped forward, ducking into the opening. The air inside was cooler, damp, and carried an earthy, metallic scent. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she realized the walls of the hollow were lined with markings—etched symbols that pulsed faintly with the same bioluminescence as the fungi.
She ran her fingers over one of the carvings, tracing its swirling patterns. They felt warm, almost alive, as if the tree itself was pulsing with energy.
“What is this place?” she whispered, half to herself.
The creature stepped in behind her, its movements careful and deliberate. It pointed toward the far side of the hollow, where a faint light glimmered. Aviva followed its gaze, her heart pounding. As she approached, the light grew brighter, illuminating a small stone pedestal embedded in the roots of the tree.
On the pedestal rested an object—a disc of iridescent metal, its surface etched with intricate designs that seemed to shift and change as she looked at them. It pulsed faintly, the same green glow as the symbols on the walls.
The creature chirped, its voice soft and almost reverent. It pointed at the disc, then at her, its meaning clear.
“You want me to take it?” Aviva asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The creature nodded, stepping back to give her space.
Aviva hesitated, her hand hovering over the disc. She could feel the power radiating from it, a strange, thrumming energy that seemed to resonate with her very being. Taking this could change everything—or it could unleash something far beyond her understanding.
Her fingers brushed the cool metal, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
Aviva’s fingers tightened around the disc, its cool metal surface pulsing faintly under her touch. The moment she lifted it from the pedestal, a surge of raw energy coursed through her, hot and electric. Her vision blurred as the air around her seemed to shimmer and hum with power. The intricate runes etched into the disc’s surface glowed brighter, their lines twisting and shifting as though alive. She staggered, gripping the edge of the pedestal to keep herself steady, her breathing shallow and quick.
Behind her, the scaled creature chirped softly, the sound almost reverent, its luminous eyes fixed on the unfolding event.
A glowing notification materialized in her vision, its stark text cutting through her disorientation.
Aviva’s pulse quickened. The words hung before her, impossible to ignore. Her mind churned as she read the description again, her thoughts racing. The Rune Machinist. The name alone conjured images of intricate machines and glowing runes, a merging of magic and engineering that could revolutionize how she fought and survived. She imagined etching runes into her weapons, building magitech constructs to shield herself, or even crafting devices capable of flight.
But there was risk in this. Once she activated the disc, the choice would be final. No way to return it, no way to choose another path. Was she ready to embrace this unknown?
Her grip on the disc tightened, and her jaw set with determination. Survival wasn’t enough—she needed an edge, something to level the playing field in this unfamiliar land. She needed power.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of her heart.
Aviva pressed the disc to her chest. The instant it made contact, the artifact dissolved into a swirling mist of glowing runes, emerald and gold, that spiraled around her body in a dizzying dance of light. The air grew heavy, vibrating with an almost melodic hum, as the runes settled onto her skin, tracing intricate patterns down her arms, shoulders, and legs. A wave of warmth followed, seeping into her muscles and bones, like a tide of molten energy reshaping her from within.
Another notification appeared, the text sharper and brighter than before:
The words were followed by a cascade of information, each line imprinting itself in her mind as if it were being burned into her very being.
Aviva swayed as the notifications faded, her body thrumming with a newfound vitality. She flexed her fingers experimentally, and faintly glowing runes flickered across her palms, their light reflecting off her wide-eyed expression. Testing her instincts, she focused on one of the patterns, willing it to manifest. A small rune spun lazily in midair before dissolving into sparks.
The creature chirped again, its tone higher, almost triumphant. It gestured to the faintly glowing runes now etched into her skin, its movements quick and deliberate, like an artisan admiring a newly crafted masterpiece.
Aviva allowed herself a small smile. Power and potential coursed through her veins, and her mind was already racing with possibilities. She could feel the raw energy waiting to be shaped, molded into whatever she needed. She imagined her knife enhanced with runes that could slice faster and deeper, traps laid to slow or injure pursuing foes, or even constructs to provide cover or distraction in battle.
Still, she wasn’t foolish enough to think this would be easy. This power was only a tool—it was up to her to master it.
“What else is there?” she asked aloud, her voice steadier now. She gestured toward the creature, hoping it would understand. “Tools? A workshop?”
The creature tilted its head before giving a sharp, encouraging chirp. It turned and slipped through the hollow’s entrance, motioning for her to follow.
Aviva emerged into the jungle, the transition from the damp hollow to the humid air outside feeling almost like a rebirth. Everything seemed more vivid. The towering trees shimmered with an inner glow she hadn’t noticed before, their iridescent bark reflecting the jungle’s shifting light. Patches of glowing fungi dotted the forest floor, their green luminescence revealing faint trails that wound deeper into the wilderness.
Her new senses seemed to heighten her awareness of the world around her. Magic thrummed faintly in the air, and her eyes were drawn to clusters of materials—vibrant crystals embedded in rocks, bioluminescent flowers with veins of liquid light, and what looked like chunks of metallic ore glinting among the roots. Reagents, she realized. Resources for crafting the runes and devices her new class promised.
The creature led her further into the jungle, where the sounds of the savannah had fully faded. In their place was a living symphony: the chirps and calls of unseen creatures, the rustling of leaves as something moved in the canopy above, and the distant roar of a beast that sent a chill down her spine.
Eventually, they stopped at the base of another colossal tree, its roots sprawling like a web over the jungle floor. Embedded in one of the roots was a flat slab of stone, covered in worn runes that faintly pulsed with a steady rhythm. Tools lay scattered around it—delicate chisels, glowing crystals, and what appeared to be a small magitech construct shaped like a beetle.
The creature gestured to the slab and then stepped aside, its task seemingly complete.
Aviva approached the stone with a mixture of awe and trepidation. She placed her hand on its surface, and the runes beneath her fingers flared to life, sending a soft vibration up her arm. A notification appeared in her vision:
She grinned, a spark of excitement flickering in her chest. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she was ready. This was her chance to reshape her future—to survive and thrive in the Emerald Expanse.
For the first time since washing ashore, she felt more than hope. She felt possibility.