The sacrificial stone circle was crushed into a pile of rubble. The ground beneath their feet had been gouged deep by a multitude of claws. She couldn't even imagine what had caused such a thing. Bodies littered the clearing in the center and resembled dolls that had been discarded more than anything that had been alive.

The only thing that remained largely undamaged was the statue of Balar. It still stood tall and unchanged aside from what had been the engorged male anatomy. That had seemingly been blasted off. And though there were many bodies around it, they were scattered about and not on top or near the base.

Serena walked toward it and looked up to find a clear sky with a fair splattering of fluffy white clouds. A breeze blew through, carrying with it some pleasant scents. Once upon a time, she had longed to see the moon and sun... Anything but the endless, unchanging gloom.

Serene breathed deeply as she approached the statue, her gaze shifting to the cracked sacrificial altar in its shadow. There would be no more offerings here now. This place belonged to something else entirely. Something ancient yet powerful enough to destroy entire towns for whatever reason.

She reached out tentatively to touch the altar. She could feel something akin to a heart beating beneath the marble. A strange power coursed over her in waves that left goose bumps along her arms and legs. It was an odd sensation that made her wonder if this was what he felt like when people called upon the divine in this world. She didn't know what Balar was supposed to represent so much of what was happening was lost on her. But it was clear that the statue had been built by someone who knew what they were doing; there were too many details that had gone into it to have just happened naturally or randomly. The statue itself had taken hours of carving alone, which meant whoever had created it had had some kind of skill with their hands.

Beside her, the unusual fae kneeled to the statue and began to whisper to himself. While he seemed the picture image of a reverential believer, Serena had her doubts. He hadn't moved from his spot since they'd arrived, not even once.

Lucian seemed to be in the middle of a trance, but she couldn't tell if he was seeing anything at all as he stared blankly.

She turned away from him, her gaze lingering on the spilled offerings before her. Most of them were burned to a crisp as if from an intense flame.

The only thing that made sense would have been the golden light that had enveloped Lucian when he was about to be slain. She looked around again for any signs of life—any sign that anyone was still alive in this place…and found nothing.

It was unnatural for such contained destruction to happen and for them to be spared at all. More than that, it brought far too many questions that were upsetting to think about. If the gods could cause such chaos, then what was stopping them from destroying and remaking the world over and over?

Her eyes widened at the dismal thought of that. It would explain how devout people could be if they were raised from the cradle to the grave to be aware of such powerful beings that could snuff their lives out on a whim.

The Great Clans of the Celestial Empire were no different in that behavior, much to her frustration, but there were guidelines and the rare conditions to prevent the complete eradication of cultures and populaces of countries (or worse) whenever one of the blasted nobles threw a hissy fit. But she doubted these things existed here; she'd seen enough evidence to suggest otherwise. And while Balar seemed to be someone who is worshipped by a great number of people, he didn't seem particularly merciful or kind. He appeared more like some sort of dark god than a benevolent deity. That made even less sense than everything else happening around them.

She would be squeezing Lucian for any information he would be willing to tell her, but for now, there was only one action she could see herself doing.

Serena lowered her head slightly in acknowledgment of the statue. It was to show respect as much as to not alienate either the being known as Balar or Lucian himself.

Ravana did not care for her tactful display of maneuvering risky social situations. His distaste, rage, and disbelief rolled off the mysterious entity that was connected to her. It was so bad that it managed to muddle her own emotions and sense of self. For a moment, Serena struggled with knowing where she ended and he began. She knew that they were linked somehow—that their minds and souls were tied together…but what exactly that meant wasn't clear at this point.

After a few moments, she regained her senses and focused on finding the backpack. No matter what, she had to have that backpack if she wanted to survive. It contained everything anyone would need when traveling alone. Food, money, shelter, a nearly endless and varied amount of materials for her crafting hobbies, resources and trading goods, extra clothes, and all her tools for gathering and crafting. It also contained armor, weapons, and various gadgets she had made to give her an edge in and out of combat.

More than anything else, it was a precious gift that her brother had made for her. It was filled with his love and that alone made it priceless.

She walked over toward it slowly but steadily as though nothing was wrong. Her eyes scanned around for any signs of movement or life before glancing back up again in search of the bag itself. After several more minutes, she was able to locate it beside the altar.

Her heart pounded as she pulled it from its spot, her hands shaking with relief as she tightened her hold on the straps. The sound of ripping fabric halted her enjoyment and the backpack fell to the ground. As if to spite her, it broke down into ash, leaving the small piece of leather the only part that remained. She stared at the remains in utter disbelief; there was no way something like this could just happen without explanation.

"What?" Serena whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. "No…no! What happened?"

Serena's mouth opened but nothing came out except a low whimper. The sound belonged more like a wounded beast than a human and made even Ravana stop his bad mood in apparent shock. Her mind seemed to unravel under all the stress in the last two days, and everything she tried to keep at bay pressed down on her at once. It made her feel sick, dizzy, and weak but most of all helpless. There wasn't a thing she could do about any of what had been going wrong since she had arrived here. Everything had gone wrong: she couldn't get enough food or water and now she'd lost an irreplaceable gift from someone who meant so much to her. It was too hard to take it all in—too overwhelming for her to think straight when she didn't know why anything was happening or how it would end up. She felt as though every minute was a step closer to death.

She turned away as tears filled her eyes and began falling silently down her face.

Her legs trembled and she let herself fall to the ground, clutching at the ash in a desperate attempt to have the last connection she had to her brother and the world remain with her. She buried her head into the dirt and wept until there were no more tears left inside of her.

Lucian stared at Serena's back, watching the young woman's shoulders rise and drop repeatedly without making the slightest sound. He hadn't expected her reaction at all. The poor thing looked like she had just been hit by a carriage.

He knew better than to interfere with whatever was going wrong between her and this mysterious friend of hers. Whatever was going on was not his concern anyway—he'd seen enough people break apart over trivial matters. This wasn't one of them; he could see that much from where he stood. All he could do was let her cry out. He had no intention to soothe or even touch her, but being there would help her a fair bit.

As he finished his prayers, Serena rose from the ground and dusted herself off. She seemed hollow and driven by something. He noted the way she treated the strap of leather as she placed her long and vibrant crimson hair into a ponytail. The piece of leather stood out against her hair and the ruined clothing she wore, but she looked more at peace after doing such a simple thing.

It was the best time to approach her.

"We should check on your little pixie companion," Lucian began as he approached the woman. "I am sure he is worried sick about you."

She nodded and motioned for him to lead them through the wreckage.

Lucian found it a little unnerving that she had yet to speak since her mental breakdown, but put it down as emotionally exhausted. He didn’t know her at all, so there was nothing he could say to ease her pain. Instead, he just led her back to what served as their brief prison to check on the patient.