The flood of light was disorienting, piercing the darkness they had been trapped in. Thorne squinted, his hand instinctively rising to shield his eyes as they adjusted to the new brightness. The corridor that stretched before them was dimly lit by torches mounted on the walls, their flames casting flickering shadows that made the aged stone appear alive.
His attention shifted to the other three kids, now fully illuminated. They stood awkwardly, each clearly trying to process their sudden shift in surroundings.
Thorne’s gaze settled on Jax first. The boy stood tall, his shaggy brown hair framing his piercing blue eyes. His broad shoulders and muscular build gave him an air of strength and intimidation, and his expression was perpetually set in a challenging scowl, a look that dared anyone to question his strength.
For a moment, Thorne and Jax locked eyes. Thorne couldn’t help but measure Jax, noting the other boy's broad shoulders and imposing stance. He nearly smirked at the tough act Jax was putting on, knowing full well he could break the boy in seconds with his superior attributes and skills.
Eren was the opposite. Slighter in frame, his dark, curly hair fell into his intelligent brown eyes as he scanned the area with a calculating gaze. Where Jax exuded brute force, Eren’s strength was in his composure and wit. There was something methodical about him, like every action he took was premeditated.
Leona stood apart from the two boys, her large green eyes darting nervously between them and the corridor. She was the smallest of the group, her slight frame making her appear even younger and more vulnerable. Her limp, dirty blonde hair framed her delicate features, and she clung to herself as if trying to shrink into the shadows. Fear radiated off her, but there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes, a flicker of determination that hadn’t been entirely snuffed out by their predicament.
The corridor itself fanned out in a semicircle, its walls lined with five massive doors, each one unique. The aged wood was adorned with intricate carvings—glyphs and symbols etched deeply into the surface in an unknown language.
The air was heavy, thick with dust and the cloying scent of mildew, mingling with a faint metallic tang that Thorne recognized immediately as the scent of old blood. The torches’ flickering flames created wavering shadows, giving the impression of movement where there was none.
Thorne moved toward one of the doors, his fingers tracing the rough carvings. The symbols felt ancient, their meaning lost to time. He tilted his head, trying to make sense of the strange script. "What do these mean?" he asked, his voice low but curious.
Eren stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning the glyphs. "It’s the ancient tongue of Eldari," he said, his voice quiet, almost reverent.
Jax let out a scoff, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "And how exactly do you know that, genius?" His voice carried a mocking edge, the sound echoing off the stone walls.
Eren shot him a withering look. "Because I pay attention to our trainer's instructions and do more than swing a sword. While you were too busy smashing things, I was learning." His voice was steady, but the irritation in his tone was impossible to miss.
Thorne raised an eyebrow, curious about the mention of a trainer, but before he could ask, the tension between Jax and Eren reached a boiling point.
Jax stepped forward, his chest puffed out in challenge. "You think you’re better than me? All that book-learning isn’t going to save you in a real fight."
Eren didn’t back down, his fists clenched at his sides. "And you think brute force is the answer to everything. There’s more to surviving than just swinging your fists around like an idiot."
Jax growled, his frustration bubbling over. He shoved Eren roughly, sending him stumbling back. "Say that again," Jax snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
Eren caught his balance quickly, his jaw tightening as he glared at Jax. "You don’t scare me," he said, his tone defiant.
Leona, tears shimmering in her wide eyes, stepped between them, her small frame dwarfed by the two boys. "Stop it!" she cried, her voice cracking with fear and desperation. "Fighting isn’t going to help us! Please, just stop!"
Her plea hung in the air, the weight of her emotion cutting through the tension. Thorne watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. The mention of a trainer piqued his interest, but their bickering was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
“Enough,” Thorne said, his voice calm but commanding. The others turned to him, their surprise evident. “If you two want to punch each other out, fine. But do it after we figure out where we are and how we’re getting out.”
The silence that followed was heavy, the flickering torchlight casting their shadows on the walls like restless spirits. Thorne turned back to the glyphs, his fingers brushing over them thoughtfully. The faint glow pulsed under his touch, almost as if reacting to his presence.
"Now," he said, glancing back at the others, "let’s focus on something useful. Eren, you said you can read this. What does it say?"
Eren hesitated, casting a wary glance at Jax before stepping forward. "Give me a moment," he said, his voice calmer now.
As Eren began deciphering the symbols, Thorne leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he considered the group he was now a part of. This wasn’t a random situation. It couldn’t be. Someone had chosen them, thrown them together for a reason.
And whoever had brought them here was watching. Thorne was sure of it.
Eren inhaled deeply, steadying himself before reading the riddle etched onto the first door. His voice echoed slightly in the cold corridor as he recited:
"In darkness and light, we forge our might. The way is hidden in plain sight. Find the path that leads to dawn, and through the trials, carry on."
The group fell silent, each one trying to decipher the meaning behind the mysterious words. Thorne met Eren’s gaze, whose eyes were unfocused as he thought. Leona stood close, her wide green eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, while Jax lingered at the edge of the group, muttering under his breath, his impatience barely contained.
“It’s definitely a riddle,” Thorne said, pacing the length of the corridor. His bare feet scraped against the stone, the noise grating against the oppressive silence. “Darkness and light... maybe it’s talking about something that exists in both states? Or maybe it’s more metaphorical.”
Leona spoke hesitantly, her soft voice cutting through the tension. “Could it have to do with how the doors are arranged? The way they fan out—it almost feels deliberate, like there’s meaning behind it.”
Eren nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “The riddle mentions ‘the path that leads to dawn.’ Dawn is a transition from darkness to light, so maybe the order we choose has to reflect that progression.”
Jax rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “We’re wasting time,” he grumbled. “All this thinking won’t get us anywhere. We should just pick a door and get on with it.”
Thorne shot him a sharp look. “One wrong move could get us killed. We’re not rushing into this.”
Jax’s scoff was audible, but he stayed quiet, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
The group continued debating, tossing out ideas and analyzing the riddle from every angle. Tension buzzed in the air, thickened by Jax’s barely restrained hostility and Leona’s nervous fidgeting. Thorne could feel a sense of urgency pressing down on him, like an invisible clock ticking faster with each passing second.
He stopped pacing abruptly, snapping his fingers as a thought struck him. “It’s about the sequence,” he said, his tone confident. “The riddle is guiding us to open the doors in a specific order. If we get it wrong, there’s no telling what could happen.”
Leona perked up at his words, nodding quickly. “That makes sense. Maybe the symbols on the doors are the key—they must represent something important.”
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Eren stepped closer to the door, his gaze sharpening as he studied the inscriptions. The ancient glyphs seemed to pulse faintly under the flickering torchlight. “The symbols might align with times of day or stages of light,” he murmured, half to himself. “If we can match them to the idea of dawn, we might figure this out.”
Jax, pacing in the background, scratched his head and spoke begrudgingly. “Maybe it’s, uh... like how the sun moves? Morning to night or something?”
Thorne barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Not the worst idea,” he admitted, though his focus remained on Eren’s careful analysis. Together, they studied the symbols, tracing patterns and discussing possible interpretations.
Finally, they decided on the first door. Thorne and Eren approached it cautiously, their movements deliberate. The air seemed to grow heavier as Thorne pushed it open, the hinges groaning softly in protest.
Inside was a small, dimly lit chamber. At its center stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a gleaming sword. The blade caught the torchlight, its polished surface reflecting a cold brilliance.
Before anyone could react, Jax strode forward, his posture full of swagger. “I’ll take this,” he said, reaching for the weapon with little regard for the others.
Eren opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Thorne held up a hand to stop him. “Let him have it,” Thorne said evenly. His eyes lingered on Jax for a moment before returning to the rest of the room. “If there’s a trap, he’ll spring it first.”
Jax shot Thorne a glare but said nothing as he took the sword. Thorne exhaled slowly, relieved when nothing happened. The fact that they had chosen correctly meant they were on the right track.
With the first door solved, their attention turned to the remaining four. Each choice felt more dangerous than the last, the pressure of getting it right mounting. Voices dropped to hushed whispers, their deliberations urgent but subdued as they worked to decipher the next clue.
After much debate, they cautiously approached the second door, their collective tension palpable. Convinced they had unraveled the next part of the riddle, Thorne reached out and pushed the door open. The creak of the hinges echoed ominously in the corridor.
A split second later, a hiss of arrows tore through the air, narrowly missing their heads. The deadly shafts embedded themselves into the wall behind them with a sharp thunk, their polished tips glinting menacingly in the torchlight. The sheer suddenness of the attack left the group frozen in place, their breaths caught in their throats.
Eren let out a strangled cry as one arrow struck him just below the shoulder. The impact knocked him off balance, and he staggered back, his face contorted in pain. Blood quickly bloomed around the wound, running down his bare torso.
“Eren!” Leona screamed, rushing to his side. Her trembling hands hovered uselessly over him as panic overtook her. “Oh gods, Eren! Are you—are you okay?”
Eren gritted his teeth, his jaw tight as sweat dotted his brow. “I’m fine,” he managed through clenched teeth, though his voice wavered under the strain of the injury. “It’s not... too deep.” His breathing was ragged, his skin pale as he cradled his wounded arm.
Thorne’s heart thundered in his chest as he scanned the room, his eyes darting to every shadow hoping his Cunning Trapper skill would give him a clue. "Everyone, freeze!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "There might be more traps."
Leona whimpered but obeyed, her wide, tear-filled eyes darting around in fear. Jax’s knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword, his bravado cracking under the realization of how close they had come to being skewered.
Thorne stepped forward cautiously, his movements measured. He crouched by the embedded arrows, inspecting the mechanisms that had launched them. His voice was calm, but a hard edge of frustration crept into his tone. “This place is rigged to kill us. If we keep making careless decisions, it’ll succeed.”
Leona knelt beside Eren, her earlier fear replaced with trembling determination. Her hands shook as she gripped the arrow lodged in his shoulder. “I-I have to pull it out,” she stammered, her green eyes darting to his face for confirmation.
Eren nodded, though his lips were pressed into a tight line. “Do it,” he said hoarsely. “Just... make it quick.”
Thorne observed in silent surprise as Leona gripped the arrow with both hands and yanked it free in one swift motion. Eren gasped, his body jerking with the sharp burst of pain, but he quickly steadied himself, clutching his shoulder as blood seeped from the wound. Leona tore a strip from her tunic and pressed it against the injury, her earlier terror momentarily forgotten in her focus.
Jax glanced at Eren, then at the doors, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “This is bullshit,” he snapped, his voice echoing in the corridor. “How the hell are we supposed to know which door is safe?”
“We have to figure out the riddle,” Thorne replied curtly, his mind already working through the problem. “There’s a pattern here—we just haven’t figured it out yet.”
Eren, his voice tight with pain, added, “The riddle’s the key. We missed something in the wording. We have to look at it again.”
Despite his impatience, Jax finally relented, joining the group as they returned to the inscription. Now that they knew the risks they were all focused and serious as they scrutinized every word, their voices low and urgent.
Thorne paced as he mulled over the possibilities, his fingers brushing against the rough grooves of the carvings. Leona kept glancing at the walls, her shoulders hunched as if she were bracing for another barrage of arrows. Jax stood rigid, his sword clutched in both hands like a lifeline.
After what felt like an eternity of debate, they arrived at a decision. The third door seemed to fit the riddle’s clues. They approached it cautiously, each step laden with hesitation.
“This better be it,” Jax muttered, his voice low but tense.
Leona swallowed hard, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “What if we’re wrong?” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously to the walls as if expecting them to sprout arrows again.
Thorne inhaled deeply, his focus unshaken. “We won’t know unless we try,” he said firmly. His hand rested on the door, the cool wood rough beneath his palm. He glanced at the others, their faces illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Jax’s scowl was edged with determination, Eren’s jaw was set despite his injury, and Leona’s fear mingled with fragile hope.
“Here goes nothing,” Thorne murmured, and pushed the door open.
When Thorne pushed the door open, his breath hitched, and he realized he’d been holding it. No trap. Just a simple bow resting atop a pedestal. The sight of it brought a fleeting sense of relief but also stirred questions. Why was this weapon here? Why were any of these doors equipped with tools for battle?
He picked up the bow, the polished wood smooth and cool under his fingers. Turning to Leona, he extended it toward her. "This suits you best," he said, his tone calm but firm, as if leaving no room for doubt.
Leona hesitated, her trembling hands hovering over the weapon before she finally took it. Her green eyes glimmered with gratitude and uncertainty. "Thank you, Thorne," she murmured, clutching the bow tightly. She looked down at it, her voice trembling. "But... I don’t know how to use it."
Thorne suppressed a groan, forcing himself to keep his frustration in check. "It’s fine, Leona," he said, his voice softer this time. "You don’t need to be perfect right away. Just follow our lead and stay calm. And everything will be alright."
As Leona nodded hesitantly, her grip tightening on the bow, Thorne’s curiosity got the better of him. He studied her, the question forming almost instinctively. “Do you have a trainer, too? Like Jax and Eren?” His tone was casual, but his mind raced.
Her eyes widened in alarm, and she hesitated before giving a slow nod, the movement stiff and uncertain.
The pieces clicked into place. She has a trainer. They all do. Thorne’s thoughts spiraled as a realization dawned. "Are you a cousin?" he asked, his voice dropping, probing.
Leona’s eyes grew even larger, filled with a mix of fear and confusion, before she gave a small nod. Thorne felt a flicker of recognition. His uncle’s network of cousins was vast, far beyond those he knew personally. Most were like him—orphans plucked from the streets and molded into tools for Uncle’s schemes. But not all of them crossed paths. Although he knew many cousins, mostly those associated with Jonah, Ben, and Darius, he didn't know them all.
Leona’s lips parted slightly, and she whispered, almost to herself, “Thorne... Thorne, where have I heard that name?” Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization struck her, and she turned to him sharply, her whisper urgent. “You’re that Thorne? Uncle’s favorite nephew? The one who saved all those cousins and set fire to that gang’s base?”
Thorne blinked in surprise, then smirked. So, my reputation precedes me. "You’ve heard of me?" he said with a cocky tilt of his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. He gave her a playful wink.
Leona stared at him, her fear momentarily replaced with awe. “You’re so lucky! You’ve met Uncle in person! Is he really as kind as they say?”
Thorne’s smirk faded into a bitter smile, his gaze hardening. "Kind? He’s... something, alright," he said cryptically, letting the statement hang in the air. He didn’t have time to dwell on her starry-eyed admiration. The riddle was still their priority.
Their exchange was cut short by the rising tension behind them. Jax and Eren were already arguing, their voices ricocheting off the stone walls as they debated over the weapons.
Thorne sighed and turned away, effectively ending the conversation. The fourth door revealed a sturdy shield, its surface gleaming with faint engravings. After a brief, heated debate, they unanimously decided it should go to Eren, given his wounded state and need for extra protection.
Eren accepted the shield with a quiet nod, his jaw tight. “I’ll make sure this isn’t for nothing,” he promised, his voice steady despite the pain etched on his face.
Finally, they approached the fifth and final door. When Thorne pushed it open, he found a finely crafted dagger, its blade shimmering faintly in the dim light. He picked it up, testing its weight in his hand. The balance was perfect, the blade honed to a razor’s edge. A small smile played on his lips as he spun it experimentally.
Now armed, the group turned toward the main door at the end of the corridor. Without warning, it creaked open on its own, the sound grating and ominous. Beyond the threshold, four sentinels marched in unison, their dark armor glinting in the flickering torchlight. Their movements were mechanical, precise, and their mere presence exuded menace.
Thorne’s pulse quickened, but a sly grin tugged at his lips. The sentinels reminded him of hunting aether beasts—strong, deadly, but predictable in their patterns. "Looks like we’ve got company," he said, twirling the dagger in his hand. His tone was light, almost mocking. "I hope they like our new accessories."
Jax stepped forward, brandishing his sword with an exaggerated flourish. His chest puffed out with bravado. "Let them come. I’ll take them all down myself. This’ll be a piece of cake."
Leona, in stark contrast, clutched her bow tightly, her knuckles white. Her eyes darted nervously between the sentinels, and she whimpered, "I don’t think I can do this."
Thorne’s grin faded as he took command, his tone firm but steady. "Leona, stay in the back. Eren, keep her safe." He didn’t look back as he issued the orders, his gaze locked on the approaching sentinels.
He twirled the dagger once more and murmured to himself, “Finally, some action.”