Ryder quickly turned around but was met with a backhand across his jaw. Sindara was staring at him, her eyes and arms swirling with the black ink.

“Thieves that steal from their party are a disgrace to this realm.”

“But I was just seeing if you had torches!” he pleaded.

The ground Ryder sat upon swallowed the moon’s light, an eternal void surrounded him.

“Ryder… my shadow has engulfed many in this same scenario. Thieves and murderers plague the questing business, but I am most disappointed in you. For what do you search for? My trinkets of long past, my enchanted stones?”

“A candle!”

She paused, the ink on her body and the shadows beneath them halted.

She knelt beside Ryder, his eyes filled with tears as a red mark laid across his face.

“Oh Ryder,” she held his bruised cheek and wiped a streaming tear.

She looked longingly into his trembling blue eyes.

“You shouldn’t take questing so seriously, for you will die soon enough; either on this one or the next, you will perish,” Sindara said, before shoving him into the dirt and moving her belongings closer to her tent.

Ryder quietly got up and walked back to his campsite.

Durge was staring at the river, the stars and moon bobbed with the current. Ryder passed by him quickly and nestled into a sleeping spot.

Durge raised an eyebrow at the silently weeping boy. “You alright?”

Ryder’s weeping became louder, but it eventually turned into sniffling and coughing. His voice stuttered and strangled itself with every word as he recounted his interaction with the sorceress.

“Over a fucking candle?” Durge said, shaking his head and looking over to their tent. “You’ll be alright, Rye. Just think about tomorrow.”

Ryder fell asleep easily after his spew of emotions, Durge’s eyes eventually lowered and he softly drifted to sleep.

The morning came and Durge awoke to the sound of Hadic yelling about something to Sindara. Durge grumbled and tried going back to sleep but the group was being obnoxiously loud when taking their tent down.

Durge sighed and got up, he didn’t usually wake up easily, but being outside his home and being with strangers made him feel constantly aware of his surroundings. Ryder was still asleep on the soil, the air flying off the river made the morning cold and damp, but the sun would soon rise.

Durge took care of his morning duties and walked near where the others camped, their bags lay where their tent was. He could see that they were down the riverbank washing themselves.

He returned to the snoozing Ryder, lightly grazing the back of his neck with his fingertips, imitating a spider.

Ryder jolted awake and slapped the back of his neck before he saw Durge crouched next to him.

“The suns not even up yet,” Ryder mumbled.

“That’s my line,” Durge nudged, “C’mon, we have a quest to do.”

Ryder eagerly got up and freshened himself at the cold river. Sindara and Hadic were returning to their camp, smiling joyously and holding hands.

Ryder and Durge were waiting at the entrance, Durge was watching Hadic don his armor while Ryder was observing the wooden entrance. He saw dwarvish script carved into the top of the door, but he couldn’t read it.

“Dwarves were here,” Ryder said, pointing at the carvings.

“Probably a mine or some retreat for them?” Durge asked.

Ryder shrugged before being commanded to move out of the way.

Hadic was the first to enter, followed by Sindara carrying one of her bags.

Stone walls and ceilings surrounded the party. Light shone through the cracks and gaps of the door, but it was dark until Hadic lit one of his torches. Ryder forgot he dumped out his fuel for the lantern, so he was stuck with Hadic.

After going down the initial steps, they could see a sizable entrance hall; thick wooden support beams laid across the cavern walls, covered with webs. The floor was made of rotten wooden boards. There were tables, benches, and cabinets near the far side of the room.

Ryder walked over to the tables, seeing if he could find the leather book. Durge went over and searched as well, but the room was bare, spare for a few small tools and empty tankards.

Ryder was looking at the tables and benches, “See how it's not as dusty as the rest of the area?”

“Someone was here recently then?”

“The researcher, most likely,” Ryder said.

Hadic and Sindara kept on moving without them. Before Ryder could follow close behind, he was stopped by Durge.

“You’d want one of these soon, don’t light it until we split from them,” Durge said, handing Ryder a candle.

Ryder gleamed and put it in his lantern. “Thank you, Durge.”

They caught up with Sindara, she was strolling through one of the stone hallways.

Ryder was constantly scanning the area. In his youth, he read every story in his manor’s library that told of traps in derelict dungeons and gigantic spiders creeping through the cracks in the walls, although this was more tame, he knew anything was plausible.

Hadic reached the end of the hallway, peering to his right he could see a set of stairs that led deeper, and on his left, he saw a closed wooden door.

“Get your sword out, Durge,” Ryder said, holding his dagger.

“Why? There’s nothing here.”

“Just listen to me.”

Durge rolled his eyes and unsheathed his sword.

Hadic pushed the door open, it slammed against the stone wall behind it.

Ryder flinched and listened, but nothing unusual could be heard.

Hadic stopped at the doorway, “Packmules, go down the other way.”

“Stay in the entrance hall if you find the book,” Sindara said.

“Can we get a light first?” Durge asked.

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Sindara scoffed and dropped an unlit torch before walking into the next room.

The door slammed shut behind them.

“Bastards,” Durge said, picking up the torch. Ryder lit it with his flint striker.

Durge gestured for the candle with his blazing torch.

Ryder put the lit candle in his lantern and it gave a comfortable warm glow, reminiscent of the time in Durge’s dugout. Although the abstract shapes carved into the steel lantern created odd and distracting shadows on the stone walls, light in the abyss was better than being swallowed by it.

Durge led the way towards the right side path, descending the steps with a torch in his left and sword in his right, with Ryder tailing closely behind.

The torch revealed another small room similar to the entrance hall they had explored before; this one, however, looked to be a resting area. Frames for bunk beds and cots lined the walls, along with a stove and pantry. The two fanned out in the room, looking underneath the rotten cots and the bug-ridden cabinets.

Durge hung his head in disappointment when it was revealed that any food left here turned to fuzzy mold.

“What’d you expect?” Ryder asked.

“Something worthy,” Durge said.

Loud clamors were heard behind them. The sounds of clay shattering and metal hitting the ground echoed through the ruins.

“What are they doing!?” Ryder exclaimed.

“They must be getting impatient already, the book isn’t in here, let’s keep going.”

Out of the living area and into what seemed to be a well-preserved study room. The duo felt like they were in a different setting entirely, everything was pristine; not a pinch of dust or strand of web lay in this room.

Ryder’s eyes gleamed with excitement and worry; he quickly exited the room to see if he could. He passed through the doorway just fine, but he noticed the cold draft of wind that blew throughout the ruins was halted at the entrance. Ryder gazed at the doorframe and saw runes etched into the wooden frame.

“It must be a ward to stop the elements!” Ryder said.

“Whoever it was didn’t want their books to be ruined,” Durge said, peering over the bookshelves.

Hundreds of books sat on the surrounding shelves, and a desk with fresh ink and parchment lay on the center desk.

At the sight of the collection, Ryder seemed to become a child again. He eagerly scrolled through the spines of the books, resisting the urge to touch the beautiful calligraphy.

Ryder shook his head, “This is a trap. It must be. It’s too perfect.”

Durge gazed at the ground, “Well there’s no trapdoors, arrow traps, or bodies, so I think we’re fine. The book would probably be in here, no?”

Ryder sucked his teeth, rereading the spines of the books, “I don’t think so. These books look like they belong here, not lain haphazardly by a careless researcher.”

“What’s it supposed to look like again?” Durge asked, examining the shelves.

“Brown leather cover with ‘F.C.’ on it, but I wouldn’t think it would—”

“This one is brown,” Durge said, before grabbing one of the books.

“Wait!—”

Durge put the book back, “It didn’t have F.C. on it.”

Ryder wheezed, “Be careful!”

“Yeah yeah,” he said, reaching for another book and checking the cover.

Ryder stared at Durge looking through the books, he looked at the shelf that was closest to himself, flawless tomes were before him. He carefully pulled out a book and glimpsed at the cover. Feeling safe that nothing would happen, he joined Durge on the excursion.

Ryder pulled a green book from the shelf, he was practically looking at every cover now for his amusement, regardless if it was brown or had the initials on it. Most of the books were a solid color and had no illustrated cover. The titles he saw were in various languages, from dwarvish to common to elvish and orcish. He understood none of them but recognized what the languages looked like.

Ryder then pulled a red book and was enamored by its beautifully painted cover. It featured a landscape of a black dragon soaring above a green valley that was on fire. He couldn’t understand the title of the book, nor what language it belonged to. But he carefully opened it, and the pages were of the same lettering. While he combed through the manuscript he saw more illustrations of dragons.

“Hey! I thought we were just looking at the covers,” Durge said, throwing a book over his shoulder.

“Careful with those! Do you know how rare these could be? A collector would pay a fortune!” Ryder stuffed the red book in his satchel and kept looking.

“It’s not in here,” Durge said.

“No, I don’t think so. But you should put some of these books in your bag.”

“Yeah, no, thanks. I’d rather not carry the knowledge of a dead wizard, as well as Sindara’s bags on the return trip.”

“Well, I’m taking one,” Ryder said.

“It’s your inventory after all,” Durge added. “Hopefully the next room has flawless jewels in it instead.”

Durge went for the door handle on the other side of the room. It gracefully opened outward to reveal another dark room. Durge looked behind him and saw Ryder gazing at the books again.

“You would live in this room, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, it’d be impossible for me to live in it, but I would like a study just like this in my next home. I do wonder how those wards were created.”

Durge moved to enter the next room but was halted when he heard scratching sounds from the study behind him. Ryder was writing something on the parchment that was on the desk.

“Ryder! C’mon!”

“In a heartbeat, Durge. We just have to sign that we were here.”

Durge groaned and waited for Ryder to give him the quill.

When he finally received it, he wrote: “Durge here.” and drew a large phallic object.

“Fuck this place, let’s go,” he said, dropping the quill on the desk and marching out of the room.

Ryder followed behind but it felt like he was being tugged backwards. “Durge!”

The unamused oaf looked back, “What?”

“I can’t exit.”

“What do you mean? Just keep walking.”

No, my satchel. It won’t go through the doorway.”

Durge walked back to the study, watching Ryder tug on his satchel, but it stayed in place as if it were pressed against a wall.

Durge went on the opposite side of the satchel and tried pushing it through, but it only slid up and down the invisible barrier.

Ryder opened his satchel, “Is it because of the—” Ryder placed the book in one hand and his bag joined him on the other side of the doorway. “Yup, it’s the book.”

“Hm, guess that’s why all the shelves were full,” Durge said.

“How peculiar,” Ryder threw the book onto the study’s ground.

Durge exited for the third time.

As soon as they left and gazed at the room in front of them, the door to the study slammed behind them.

They both flinched.

Durge threw open the study door, sword in hand. No person was there, not the books left on the ground or the phallic illustration on the desk. All of the books were neatly tucked away on the shelf and a fresh batch of parchment was laid.

Ryder peered over Durge’s shoulder and smirked.

“Fucking wizards,” Durge said, shutting the door on his own.

The next room was about the same size as the living quarters but sprawled with loose parchments across the plank flooring. Ryder picked one of the papers up as Durge continued surveying the room.

The paper was soggy and gross; it smelt of oil and was slick to the touch. It was written in common but the scribbles of the handwriting mixed with the smudge of the ink made it illegible. There was a desk with a cracked lantern and a mountain of parchment that lay on top of it. Durge swiped the papers off, they fell like a sopping avalanche.

Ryder tried to skim some of the papers but it was all in the same scratch and smudge. He looked at the mountain; a large leather book lay on the desk. He flipped it over and the initials “F.C.” were crudely carved on the cover.

“Yes!” Ryder yelled, tossing the book to Durge.

Durge gave an approving nod and threw the book back, “Put it in your satchel.”

Ryder joyously stared at the front cover and skimmed the dry pages, he could see some resemblance to the name “Arkao” and something about the past eras if he squinted hard enough.

Durge looked through the rest of the room but nothing of importance was found.

“Alright, let’s head back,” Ryder said, staring at the cover.

“Let’s explore a bit more, who knows what else that mage has.”

Ryder sighed but was excited nonetheless.

The next room appeared to be a vast open space. The ceiling was 30 steps tall and large stone pillars were spaced every 15 steps. The duo could see a faint green glow on the far side.

Durge still led the way but was startled when he saw a human’s corpse on the ground before him.

Ryder looked at their flanks, but the odd shadows his lantern projected were flickering and distracting.

Durge loomed over the body; it was skeletal but still had bits of flesh on its bones. The stone floor behind it was pure black and the stench of death was ever present.

“What killed them?” Ryder asked.

“Nothing physical,” Durge said, peering over the somewhat-preserved remains.

They continued walking towards the green hue, but more corpses lay on the ground.

Ryder’s boot crushed the forearm of one skeleton on accident, turning it into a fine powder.

“Shit, sorry,” Ryder said.

Durge didn’t know if he said that to him or the corpse.

Reaching the green hue and stepping over another layer of bodies, they found Hadic standing next to a large brazier, Sindara was kneeling in front of it.

“You found the book,” Sindara said in an incisive tone.

“We can leave now, right?” Ryder said.

She laughed, “You will stay until I find what I’m looking for.”

The dull glow inside the brazier grew intensely into a roaring green flame that radiated over the entire hall. The torch and lantern that the duo carried came to smolder.

Ryder and Durge turned around at the illuminated room and noticed the corpses they stepped over before were laid in an intricate pattern, as well as the trinkets that they had previously seen in Sindara’s bag.

She laughed maniacally, “The Unyielding always have secrets to learn and power to apprehend!” she spoke in a ghastly voice. Quick and harsh were her words in elvish as the ground rumbled.

The ink on her body swirled to the stone walls and projected runes and glyphs that Ryder couldn’t recognize. The oddities and bones that surrounded the group produced a ringing like a song played on a wine glass.

Dust fell from the ceiling and breathy gasps were heard from the center of the room. Ryder, Durge, and Hadic stared into the trembling crowd of cracking bones and tearing flesh.

All but Sindara wielded their weapons and faced the rising corpses, their backs against the brazier with fear in their eyes.