The lure of gravity started like a whisper in the wind, an unceasing and soft call that remained hidden in the breeze. It was soothing, alluring, and sinister. Its beckoning festered with each step she climbed, and its whispers turned into gusts of bestial growls as new heights were reached. Still, she ignored the invisible burden, the heavy breathing of the abyss, and continued pulling herself upwards.

Humans were never meant for such heights. That was why the overly ambitious always ended up deep into the ground when they failed to grasp the stars they could never reach. It was a familiar story, a lesson that should’ve been learned ages ago, but the prideful still believed themselves to be exempt from such a tragedy. They believed they would succeed, yet they failed, such as the once lord of Aodh, now nothing but a memory.

Rana tightened her grip on her staff as the wind blew. Her body swayed as she withstood its battering. If she let go of her hands, she would end up with shattered bones and splattered limbs, something she did not want to happen. Humans were meant to be grounded, so why did it have to be a tower? She wondered what sort of buffoon would have a hatred strong enough that formed a Dungeon, but also dimwitted enough to create a hunting lair that nobody sane would dare venture into.

Yet here she was, and she would’ve thought that she too was insane if not for her reason for being here.

She did not know how she managed, but her hands eventually reached the edge and she flung herself over. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ledge to her right. It was raining ashes and the lands beyond were hidden behind a wind wall of swirling embers. She then glanced at her companion. The moon-kin hid her face behind a mask, but Rana could tell Alpheia was examining her as if asking what the issue was. Of course, those with wings would be used to heights.

The Tree of Ashen Falls was a tower formed by gigantic vines twisting around each other as they reached for the skies beyond the clouds. There were no pathways within the sickly green roots, nor were there trap rooms to overcome. The way to the top was through the gaps where the vines entwined, and most of them were found at the outer walls of the stalk. Like every Dungeon, the towering tree was also alive, so when the vines crept and curled, she had to beware to not be pushed towards her death. Thankfully, Alpheia could more or less circumvent that issue, but that is not without its own problems.

The challenge of the Tree of Ashen of Falls was to stay on the path between the gaps, avoid the ash, and reach the top. What was there specifically she didn’t know, but it was most likely the Core Guardian. What she did know was that the monsters and traps here were attracted by the ash. The Ash Burn effect was like a beacon, a flare that sparked their hostility, a signal that marked their prey. Whenever Rana or Alpheia found themselves drenched in the rain of ashes, each ember was like eyes, a cinder of awareness reignited, and the slumbering tree awoke to purge the insects that dared invade upon its territory.

However, like any Dungeon, once the mechanism was revealed, it became nothing more than a puzzle that lined up its pieces. The climb was a decision on priority and distance, to gauge whether they should rush to the next cover, or that they had to time to slay their enemies before the Ash Burn effect triggered the enemy buffs. The Dungeon itself was young, and the monsters were weak without the buff from the ashes.

Thanks to the expedition log, the decisions were easy to make. However, Rana and Alpheia were now close to uncharted territory and had to proceed with caution. The strong winds were silent, and the logbook did not mention areas with no wind. Rana wondered the reason for the omission, but her answer soon came in the form of a gust that sent her tumbling backward. Alpheia was quick to react as a surge of mana manifested into her wings and she rushed towards her companion.

“No, be on your guard,” Rana said as she stabbed her staff into the ground. She refused the help as hints of hostility began to flare. Whatever it was, they were approaching fast and she needed the moon-kin to be without burden. “The wind is blowing the ashes inward. Try to keep low and make sure your movement isn’t restricted. What will come will be swift and deadly.”

The moon-kin nodded, but before any more words could be spoken, the walls of sickly green burst open and tendrils of spiked whips lashed out. Rana pulled out her staff from the ground and rolled to the side as the stroke of the whip sliced above her and slashed the place where she was before. She stole a quick glance at the moon-kin, who swiped away the oncoming attacks, and prepared for the next attack. It didn’t happen. The tendrils simply retracted halfway into the walls and swam in the air, waiting, lurking.

Rana stood her ground and was pondering whether or not she should examine them. However, another gust of wind slammed into her and this time she was too close to the wall. She held her guard but the tendrils slammed into her, pushing her off the ledge.

The moon-kin did not miss a beat and dove after Rana and grabbed her from the front.

“Behind you!”

Alpheia did not miss the warning and strafed to the side as multiple tendrils cut through the air and missed them by mere inches. Flying in the ashes was dangerous. They were exposed and it made it possible for the tendrils to track them. The moon-kin turned and dodged as spiked whips trailed after her, slashing and stabbing at them. They were faster than the Archer Bugs from before.

“I’ll handle the cinder bombs,” Rana said as she held out her palm towards the sky. The moon-kin nodded and focused on avoiding the onslaught of tendrils. It made aiming difficult, but the alternative was being struck down towards a long fall. The clouds above parted, and a meteor of smoke as wide as a barn house descended towards them. “One incoming!”

Rana narrowed her eyes. She tracked the speed of the smoke cloud and listened to the hostility from the tendrils. She flew with Alpheia for quite some time and she came to understand her tendencies. She predicted how the moon-kin would dodge and lined up her shot. She waited. Now. The moon-kin strafed to the side and rolled away from a slash. Rana saw the tendrils fly above her, then she was faced with the sky. It was only for but a moment, but it was enough.

She fired off a Mana Blast. The weak energy hit the smoke cloud, but it did not stop its descend or break its form. She didn’t need it to. The blast of magical energy hit and that was all that mattered. She heard the System call, time paused and distance became irrelevant. She snapped her fingers and Fool’s Fire ignited the cinders within the smoke and triggered an explosion.

“I have one more,” Rana said. She only had one more use of the Support Attack Talent before it went on cooldown. “Get us back in the gap before then.”

The moon-kin acknowledged without a word. Rana saw another cinder bomb fall towards them and warned her companion of the incoming attack. The moon-kin increased her speed as she weaved around the tendrils. She was flying with a purpose, leading the tendrils and creating an opening. Rana just hoped the moon-kin would create one soon. Rana repeated what she did earlier, and the cinder bomb exploded.

“One minute,” Rana said, and a third cinder bomb descended. The two continued to soar in the sky, the moon-kin danced away from the incoming attack, but she made no attempt at reaching for the path. “What are you doing?”

“Intuition,” Alpheia replied. Rana wanted to argue, but she decided against that. The moon-kin continued to fly along the wall as the tendrils chased after her. Rana realized what Alpheia was doing. The moon-kin decided to race to the next cover.

Rana and Alpheia continued to rise and the descending cinder bomb fell closer and closer. Then, an opening revealed itself in the distance, an opening within the walls. There was a surge of mana and crimson sparks cackled in the wings. With a boom, the two blasted forward and crashed into the cove just as the cinder bomb fell past them.

“Are you alive, magus?” Alpheia asked through a small cough.

“Not really,” Rana said as she spat out some dirt. She looked to the side and saw neither tendrils or enemies close by. They were safe, for now. With a groan, she pushed herself up and faced the moon-kin, who was unscathed from the landing. “I really don’t want to get used to this.”