"Wake up, sleepyhead! Breakfast is ready!"

Darian groaned and cracked one eye open to see Thomas' grinning face hovering over him. He batted his friend away with a grumble.

"What time is it? Feels early."

"Sun's barely up," Thomas said cheerfully. Way too cheerful for this hour. "But I couldn't wait any longer! Come on, get up. I made eggs and toast."

Darian sat up with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It took a moment for Thomas's words to register.

"Wait, you made breakfast? Since when do you cook?"

Thomas shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Well, you and your Ma are always doing so much, I wanted to help out. It's not much, but..."

He trailed off, suddenly uncertain. Darian's face softened. He reached over to ruffle Thomas's hair, ignoring his squawk of protest.

"Thanks, Chom. I'm sure it's great."

The bright smile returned to Thomas's face. He bounced on his heels impatiently as Darian got dressed.

As they made their way to the kitchen, the warm smells of eggs and toast wafted through the air. Darian's stomach rumbled loudly. Thomas shot him a smug look.

"Told ya I could cook."

Darian swiped a piece of toast and took a bite. "Mmm. Not bad, Chom. Bit burnt around the edges though."

"Hey! I like it crispy."

They plopped down at the table, digging in with gusto. Between mouthfuls, Thomas turned to Darian with a glint in his eye. "So, we still heading to the cave?”

“Yeah, we can head out after chores. Bring your bow, we can do some hunting on the way."

"I've been dying to know what those markings mean. Do you think it's some kind of ancient language? Or maybe a map to buried treasure?"

Darian snorted. "In Brookhaven? Not likely. Probably just some shepherd's scratchings from a century ago, knowing our luck."

"Well, that shepherd had a funny way of scratching then. I'm telling you, Dare, there's something weird about that cave. I can feel it."

That's how Mara found them when she came into the kitchen, tying her apron and shaking her head as they continued to whisper.

"Well now, what's got you two rascals up with the roosters? Not that I'm complaining, mind, but this is early even for you, Dare."

Darian and Thomas exchanged a quick look. Much as Darian loved his Ma, he didn't want her worrying over them exploring some cave. Probably better to keep it vague.

"Just excited to get out and hunt, is all," Darian said casually. "Lots of daylight to make use of in summer."

Thomas nodded along. Mara raised an eyebrow but didn't press. She knew her son, knew he'd come to her if something was truly wrong.

"Alright then. You boys be careful now, y'hear? No tackling bears or wrestling hill trolls."

"No promises," Darian quipped, ducking the dish towel she swatted at him with a laugh.

They scarfed down the rest of their breakfast, and before long, they had their gear packed - bows, snares, waterskins and a pouch of Mara's honey cakes for later. Darian hesitated, then slipped a couple of his good throwing knives into his boots as well. Never hurt to be prepared in the woods.

"Race ya to the big oak?" Thomas challenged as they set out. Darian grinned.

"Oh, you are so on!"

Whooping and laughing, they pelted full speed down the lane. By the time they reached the old oak that marked the start of the forest proper, Thomas was winded. Darian shook his head at the sight of his friend gasping for breath, he then turned towards the forest and whistled sharply.

"C'mon Rusty! Here boy!"

A russet streak shot out of the underbrush, resolving into the wriggling, licking form of a wolf pup. Thomas laughed as Rusty jumped up to plant muddy paws on his chest.

"Whoa there, easy fella! I just washed this shirt."

"He missed you," Darian said, giving Rusty a brisk ear scratch. "Didn't you, boy? Yep, Thomas is your pal too now."

Rusty yipped happily, running off to investigate an interesting smell. The boys followed at a more sedate pace, eyes peeled for game sign.

As they walked, Darian found himself scanning the forest floor for more than rabbit scat and deer rubbings. He was looking for paw prints.

Cat prints. Panther prints.

If I see so much as a whisker print, we're turning right back around.

"Dare? You okay?"

He snapped out of his thoughts to find Thomas watching him, brow furrowed in concern. Darian summoned up a smile.

"Yeah, sorry. Just...thinking."

"About what?"

Darian blew out a breath. "About panthers. And how we need to be real careful out here, not knowing if one's around."

Thomas paled a bit but nodded. "Well, that's what we've got Rusty for, right? He'll sniff out any kitty cats."

"He's just a pup," Darian fretted. "He wouldn't stand a chance against -"

A low growl cut him off. Darian grabbed for his knife on instinct, whirling to put himself between Thomas and the threat. Rusty bristled and snarled, puffing up as big as his little body could manage.

"Easy, boys..." Darian murmured. "Nice and slow..."

But then a familiar grey shape slunk out of the bushes. Darian's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Aunty! Don't scare us like that, we thought you were the panther!"

The she-wolf sniffed, unimpressed by his dramatic display. She padded over to give Rusty a thorough sniff-over, making sure her charge was in one piece.

Seeing the fierce guardian eased the tightness in Darian's chest. With Aunty here, it would be more difficult for a predator to get the jump on them.

"Alright Chom, let's get a move on. That cave isn't going to explore itself!"

With Aunty and Rusty ranging ahead, they struck out in the direction of the strange cave. Thomas peppered Darian with questions as they hiked, barely containing his excitement.

"What do you think we'll find in there? More weird writing? Or like, ancient bones? Ooh, maybe there's a hidden door!"

Darian chuckled. "Guess we'll see. I'm just hoping there's no bears using it for a den."

Thomas paled a bit at that thought. "You don't really think there's bears...right?"

"Probably not," Darian allowed. "But can't be too careful. Let me scout it out first before we go charging in, yeah?"

Thomas nodded quickly, happy to let Darian take the lead. For all his eagerness, he was still new to the woods and its dangers.

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As the cave mouth came into view, Darian held up a hand, signalling for quiet. Rusty sat at his heel, ears pricked and alert. Darian was grateful for the pup's keen nose.

Slowly, cautiously, he approached the cave entrance, senses straining for any hint of danger. But the forest was calm, drowsy and humid in the summer heat. No rank scent of bear, no rumbling growl of a disturbed predator. Just the sleepy chirp of birds and buzz of insects.

"Looks clear," he called softly to Thomas. "C'mon. And stay close, it'll be dark in there."

Thomas scurried over, eyes wide as he peered into the gloom. "It looks different than last time. It's so...black. Like it just swallows up the light."

"Caves tend to do that," Darian said dryly. With a deep breath, he plunged into the cool dimness, Thomas on his heels.

The light from the entrance quickly faded as they ventured deeper. The air felt thick and still, ancient. Even their breathing seemed too loud.

Thomas pressed close to Darian's side, "Kinda spooky, isn't it?"

"Little bit," Darian agreed. He ran a hand along the rough stone wall. "Let's see if we can't find those weird markings. I want to get a better look."

They shuffled forward, hunched and careful in the cramped space. Rusty sniffed along, unbothered by the darkness. Just as Darian was starting to wonder if they'd gone the wrong way, Thomas gave a sudden, sharp inhale.

"There! Dare, look! It's the symbols!"

Darian squinted into the darkness. Sure enough, faint scratch marks adorned the cave wall, just barely visible in the thin light.

He fumbled in his pack for the stub of a candle and his flint, striking the spark to life. The bright flame exposed the strange markings.

They didn't look like any writing Darian had ever seen. The few letters he could make out were jagged and sharp-edged, more like the slashes of a beast's claws than anything a human hand could produce. And interspersed among them were swirling, intricate patterns that seemed to move and shift in the candlelight.

A shiver ran down Darian's spine that had nothing to do with the subterranean chill. He leaned closer, straining to recall the strange words that had blazed through his mind when he'd died in the bandit attack.

"Thurae ki'voel shanduer. Naie aesthali v'dorci," he muttered, almost to himself. "What does it mean?"

But these symbols were different, more primal and visceral. Not a language, but something wilder. Older.

"Dare?" Thomas whispered. "You know what this stuff is? Do you think it's rin?"

Darian had told Thomas what little he knew of the mysterious energy. He shook out his hand, "Can't be. Rin don't work like that."

At least, he didn't think it did. Elias had never mentioned anything about strange symbols appearing in caves. But then, the adventurer had been pretty tight-lipped about the finer points of rin in general.

Could it be some other kind of power like magic or something to do with those strange words that seemed embedded in his brain? Darian's head swam with questions.

"Okay, you seen enough?" Darian asked, turning to find his friend standing absolutely still, his entire being focused on the carvings.

"No," Thomas breathed, an odd catch to his voice. "No, never."

He reached out a tentative hand, not quite touching the symbols. His fingertips hovered a hairsbreadth from the stone, as if feeling for some invisible aura.

"They're alive," Thomas whispered, his eyes glassy and far away. "Can't you feel it? It's like they're humming..."

A frisson of unease prickled the back of Darian's neck. Okay, this is getting too spooky.

"Thomas, snap out of it," he said sharply, worry making his voice harsher than he intended. "It's just a bunch of fancy scribbles. The only thing humming in here is your imagination."

Thomas jerked as if slapped, blinking owlishly at Darian like he'd forgotten he was there. "What? Oh. Right. Sorry, I just..."

Before he could elaborate, a blur of red-brown fur streaked past their ankles and shot towards the mouth of the cave. Darian stared after it in confusion before realization jolted through him like a lightning strike.

"Rusty! Get back here!"

But the pup was already gone. Darian took off after him at once, not wanting to see anything bad happen to the little thing.

"Darian, wait!" Thomas's voice echoed behind him but he couldn't spare the breath to reply. He burst out of the cave at a dead sprint, heart in his mouth and Rusty's name on his lips.

And nearly tripped headlong over the small, still form sprawled in the loam just beyond the cave entrance.

Darian stumbled to a halt, barely keeping his footing as his mind tried to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. Rusty and Aunty were there, the pup dancing around the unmoving figure and whining anxiously while his guardian stood stiff with her hackles raised. And the figure...

It was like no one Darian had ever seen. Short and stout, with a wild thatch of hair and an unkempt beard braided through with glinting metal beads. Sturdy leather armour covered the barrel chest and thick limbs.

But it was the weaponry that drew Darian's shocked gaze and held it. An enormous battle axe, double headed and wicked sharp, lay beside one outflung hand. A thick belt bristled with daggers and throwing knives. A crossbow peeked out of a back holster, its polished stock gleaming.

Something dark and wet stained the armour around one burly thigh. More blood matted the hair on the side of the figure's head.

Footsteps crashed up behind Darian and Thomas skidded to a stop at his shoulder, panting. His eyes widened to perfect circles as he took in the bizarre scene before them.

"Is that..." Thomas swallowed hard, his hand coming up to grip Darian's sleeve. "Is that what I think it is?"

And Darian, not quite able to believe the words even as they left his mouth, replied in a shaky whisper.

"It's a dwarf. A real life, honest to gods dwarf." He swallowed against the rising certainty of what the blood and stillness could mean.

"And I think...I think he might be dead."

They stared at each other in shock, the wolves pressing close to their legs and whining softly. Of all the things they had expected to find in these woods, a wounded—or worse—dwarf was not one of them.

Now the only question was...what in the seven hells were they supposed to do about it?