Thunder roared, the wind lashing fiercely through the trees. A martial artist stood in reverence, acknowledging the mother of storms and the father of wind. Some martial families worshipped these forces of nature, shaping their martial arts around the blessings of the elements.

Captain Pent was not one of them. Though he respected the elements, he never bowed in fear. Such reverence was reserved for one. Standing above the pit where the recently captured child lay, he hoped this time wouldn’t be hopeless. He inhaled deeply, summoning shadows. It was a relief to use his true martial arts, a luxury denied to him in the presence of the Order. To reveal his abilities would mean blowing his cover—an intolerable risk. He would sooner offer his head than disappoint the Divine Snake. Drawing on his own shadow and those of the nearby trees, he faded through the trapdoor of the pit. Wraith Walk. An art that allowed him to pass through solid objects for a brief time.

The pit was devoid of light as Captain Pent landed silently at its center. His other senses were sharp enough to compensate for the darkness. The lad slept in the corner, oblivious to the captain's presence. Kneeling beside him, Pent placed a powder near his nose. The boy wouldn’t wake for hours. Although Pent doubted the child could even sense his presence, he hadn’t survived this long by being careless.

The air was thick with the scent of blood, evidence of a recent meal. Good, thought Captain Pent, the little one managed it. He walked to the far wall and placed his hand against it, sighing with disappointment. There was still time, but he had hoped for faster progress. Why did things have to be this way? He quickly shook off the thought. No, he mustn’t question divine will. The boy would uncover the secrets soon enough, but they couldn’t help him. Or he would fail, as others had before. Aziz had to hate them. He must despise them for this to work.

"Child."

At the sound of the voice that seemed to echo from every corner of the room, Captain Pent immediately swiveled, flicked his cloak, and prostrated himself.

"Hail the Divine One. Hail the Master of the Limbless. May your blood sate me and may you coil me in your embrace," he intoned, while the boy in the corner remained deathly still, unaware of what was unfolding right beside him.

"You should not be here," the voice was neither angry nor harsh, but curious, questioning. The intelligence behind each word was something Captain Pent had come to admire. His master was unlike any other.

"Forgive me, Divine One. I have overstepped my bounds. My curiosity got the better of me. After so many attempts, I just wanted to see if this time..." He trailed off, realizing he was making excuses for his disobedience. Foolishly, he had assumed the Divine One didn’t already know his heart.

"Go, child. Know that he has taken my blood. It would be wise to continue as we have. We cannot keep him here forever; he must soon face our enemies. When that time comes, I will allow him to look upon my flesh." The voice was soothing, easing the turmoil in Captain Pent's heart. Yet a flicker of jealousy sparked within him. Aziz would see the Divine One, while Pent, after all his years of service, had never been granted that honor. As quickly as the thought arose, Captain Pent buried it.

"Let your will be done, master," Captain Pent replied, his voice steady, though a slight hesitation escaped his composed exterior, instantly noticed by the voice.

"What is it, child?"

"Forgive me, master, but the others have been asking... must we treat the boy this way? We already starve him, and he is alone most of the time—"

"Child."

Pent already knew the answer, but he feared that if they pushed the boy too far, his resentment might grow to a point where even they would regret it.

"It must be this way. His internal energy must not be tainted; it must darken further."

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"As you will, master," Captain Pent replied, his forehead still pressed to the dirt floor. When no further response came, he slowly lifted his head.

The presence was gone.

***

Aziz had already begun digging, convinced that the narrow hole before him was the same one the snake had used. His arms ached after just a few hours of relentless work, but he pushed through the pain. Now was not the time to stop. Minutes blurred into hours, sweat soaking his body, blood from his calloused hands mingling with the dirt. But still, Aziz didn’t falter. And that was his mistake. He hadn’t fully thought the plan through.

He froze when he saw rays of sunlight filtering through from above.

“Curses.”

Before he could react, a dagger sliced through the air and embedded itself in his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, and he choked, struggling for breath as he suffocated on the floor of the pit.

“Now, now, what were you doing, little pumpkin?”

The voice was a woman’s, sultry and mocking, but his vision was already blurring as darkness encroached. She landed in the pit beside him, inspecting the hole he had been digging. Aziz’s desperate attempt to escape had been discovered.

“It seems the Elders overlooked this one wall. Doesn’t matter now—you’ve failed. Foolish child, you brought this upon yourself.” Her voice dripped with cruel amusement, her words a mockery of his efforts.

Aziz managed a weak chuckle, knowing death was near.

“It seems you’ve gone mad in your final moments,” she remarked. “Good thing the weak are being cut early. The Order will be surprised by how many are dying so soon.”

Aziz tried to speak, struggling to form words as blood filled his throat. The masked woman knelt beside him, her uniform identical to the others he had seen. With a practiced hand, she pulled the dagger from his neck, causing a fresh torrent of blood to gush from the wound. Aziz knew he had mere seconds left.

“What’s so funny, dearie?” she asked, her voice dripping with feigned empathy.

“I—” he tried to say, his voice barely a rasp.

“I what? Something stuck in your throat?”

“I’ll be ba—ck. Y-ou’re dead.” Aziz’s blood-stained lips curled into a smile. For just a moment, he saw confusion flicker in her eyes, unsure what to make of his defiance.

“Goodnight, fool. Let’s hope the others aren’t as mad as you,” she muttered, rising and leaping out of the pit, leaving him to die alone.

As soon as his life ended, Aziz found himself back in the pit, whole and alive once more. This time, he knew he needed a new plan—one that wouldn’t be so easily discovered. The memory of the woman’s words echoed in his mind.

The Order.

Aziz had heard rumors of the Order, whispered by the village elders. They were mercenaries, not just any mercenaries, but a shadowy group involved in a war raging far to the east. But what did that have to do with kidnapping children? Why would warriors who fought on distant battlefields keep prisoners in pits? And the mention of others… Were there other children trapped in pits like his, scattered throughout the woods? Aziz shook his head, forcing the questions away. He had to survive first. The rest would come later.

Wasting no time, Aziz began digging again, careful not to repeat his earlier mistake. He worked methodically, scraping away the earth with his fingernails, making sure the hole was just large enough for him to fit through. During breaks, he spread the dirt he had removed evenly across the pit’s floor, hoping to disguise his work. The masked people were experts; if they jumped down into the pit, they might notice the uneven ground. But if they were only dropping food from above, Aziz doubted they would give it a second glance.

After what felt like an eternity, the hole was big enough for Aziz to peer through. To his surprise, he could see the other side. There was an opening, a mere meter away. With a few more hours of digging, he would be able to crawl through.

Just as he expected, the doors to the pit began to open. Aziz quickly turned his back to the hole, positioning himself so it was hidden, and shaded his eyes from the morning light filtering in.

The masked woman stood above him. This time, Aziz could see the curvature of her body as she threw another pouch into the pit before closing it again. She didn’t jump in like before or even bother to look closely. Good, Aziz thought. The less attention they pay to me, the better.

If food was only dropped once a day, that meant Aziz had another twenty-four hours before they returned. He could do this. Quickly, he got back to work. It was slower this time—he had to crawl into the hole, scoop out the dirt, and then crawl back out—but he didn’t let that deter him. He was determined. Eventually, the job was done.

This is it, Aziz thought. Now or never.

He estimated he still had six hours before the next visit. Without hesitating, Aziz got down on his belly. The hole was tight, forcing him to keep his arms pressed to his sides as he wriggled through the narrow space. He used his chin to inch forward, counting each movement to measure his progress. He moved like a snake, slithering through the opening in the wall.

It took a total of a thousand counts before Aziz finally emerged on the other side, his ragged clothes now caked with dirt. But the state of his clothes didn’t matter, because what lay before him took his breath away. He hadn’t found a snake’s nest.

He had found a temple.