Jenny moved carefully, picking up Biscuit and placing the rabbit on her lap. She put a finger near the rabbit’s nostrils and sighed in relief when the rabbit twitched her nose. Biscuit wasn’t in good shape. The fur on her head and paws was burnt, the skin cracked, oozing with blood. The rabbit’s left forearm was little more than a blackened husk.

“Biscuit?” Jenny called out, but her pet didn’t answer. She looked around, thinking about recent events.

There was only an empty corridor on this side of the metal door. The walls were lit with more torches and decorated with images of fire. At the end was another door, one that looked made of wood. Jenny pulled the bag and spear closer, deciding what to do.

A quick look in the previous room showed her the burrowers hadn’t left, even if none dared to approach the ember door. The monsters seemed afraid of fire, like Biscuit had realized. Jenny remembered the globs of spit that had hit her, patted herself, and checked her armor. The burning sensation had gone away, and the slime dried. She didn’t feel any injuries.

After confirming she was somewhat safe and Biscuit was still alive, Jenny cast her thoughts back into the memory she experienced. Now, outside the clutches of the magic, things were easier to understand. Jenny still remembered the iron in her voice and heart, the anger when she condemned the two whole families to death. She’d also been forced into three apparent choices and a hidden one.

The first two choices were similar. Side with tradition or embrace the new customs the merchants represented. The third she picked was to assert her authority without caring for what others would think. The fourth option she only realized now, was to maintain the status quo. Punish both sides, but not enough to anger them. She picked up the key again. It was still warm, and the blood was still fresh. There was no point in regretting her choice, even if she wished she’d taken the fourth, hidden one.

“Biscuit?” Jenny called again, gently shaking the rabbit. The rabbit still hadn’t moved, but with each breath, it let out a ragged wheeze, her tiny chest rising and falling slowly.

Jenny got up, still cradling Biscuit in her hands. She moved closer to the door at the end of the hall. It was a simple wooden door without a lock. It had no marking or carvings. She tried it, and the door was open. On the other side was a small, undecorated room with five pedestal stands. Of the five, only two still held items.

One of the pedestals held a dagger. At first impression, Jenny thought it was also a rusted weapon, but she was wrong. The weapon had been forged from a rust-colored metal, but it was still pristine. The pommel was made of wood and decorated with a red-colored crystal. Two pedestals over, held a book, not ornate but starkly functional. Instead of decorations or even text, it bore several scorched marks in the shape of hands.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jenny hesitated at the door; she looked back down the hall, and at Biscuit, she bit her lower lip and took a step inside. The room was much warmer than the outside, suffocating. Sweat beaded on her brown, threatening to run into her eyes despite the dryness of the air. Jenny couldn’t see where the heat came from. A strange scent lingered in the room, making her nauseous. It wasn’t smoke but an unsettling mix of dry parchment and a metallic tang, almost like blood. She examined the pedestals and the items atop them. There were no locks she could see or anywhere she could use the key. Jenny stared at the two items while she considered her options.

Could she take both? If she couldn’t, which one would she want more? She glanced at the dagger and remembered the one she lost fighting one of the burrowers. It was helpful to have a smaller weapon, and it looked valuable and well-made. The book, on the other hand, was a gamble. She didn’t know what information it had, or if it was helpful, but she guessed it held something of value; otherwise, why keep it here?

After a deep breath, Jenny moved closer to the book and took it. She waited a few moments to see if anything would happen. She eyed the dagger. Jenny juggled things around, holding the book in her armpit. With one free hand, she picked the dagger as well. She let out a deep breath when nothing else happened.

Aside from the other three empty pedestals, the room held nothing else of interest. No artwork, decorations, nor other doors or passages. Jenny considered what other things they might have held in the past but cast the idea aside. The blonde stepped out of the chamber, her shoulders relaxing when she escaped the room’s unnatural heat.

Jenny walked closer to her bag and put down the book and dagger. She fished out the water skin and took a sip. She splashed a few drops on her hand and brought it closer to Biscuit’s face. The rabbit didn’t wake. She tried guiding a few drops into the rabbit’s mouth, but Biscuit still didn’t stir. It was a long shot, but Jenny was still disappointed. She placed the rabbit on her lap and laid the book on the floor in front of her. She opened the first page.

Emberbind Grimoire, read the text inside. It was written in a language Jenny had never seen, but could still somehow read. After further thought, she realized her knowledge of the language had come from the strange, dream-like vision. She turned the page only to be greeted by diagrams, illustrations, and more of the odd text.

Eternal Ember Light.

The fire burns eternal.

The text that followed was a detailed explanation of how to cast the spell. Jenny devoured the whole text, magic knowledge from Biscuit helping her understand the complicated bits. It was a fancy name for a spell that was a glorified candlelight. She flipped a few pages, stopping on another.

Conflagration Vortex.

May you burn everything that bars your path.