As Corvus took his first step out the infirmary, his attention was turned away from the haunting green lights that fluttered around the dark hallway in front of him, and towards Gregory. He was giving stern instructions to Kira, who silently listened and nodded. Helsay gave a small bow before shuffling back towards the large cabinet full of curiosities. Kira made a formal salute before walking back towards her snoring partner.

Gregory turned back around, smiling.

“Doctor Curos will continue his research into nature curses to see if there is anyway it might be dealt with more permanently. Kira will bring Colton along when he is awake. Let you two have a proper introduction.” Gregory scraped the back of his head, slightly embarrassed.

“Fair enough.” Corvus shrugged, turning his attention back to the hallway. His eyes scanned the shadowy walls. They were mostly rough, uneven, black stone with the occasional bulge of a root protruding between them. It was far less clean than the infirmary, but still served the purpose of being wide and and secure. “Are we underground?” He asked, absently.

“Yes. Under the town to be specific. The willow tree in the square acts as a multi-purpose door of sorts, letting us enter various rooms as well as various traps for those who would attack us.”

Gregory began walking confidently down the hallway, brushing aside the small, buzzing lights that were in his path.

“The priests attack often?” Corvus raised an eyebrow, holding a purring felia on his index finger.

“More frequent every year. They never get far, however. They don’t call it ‘Labyrinth Forest’ without good reason. Add to that our various illusions and sorceries, and Desperius is as impenetrable as ever.” Gregory chuckled, brushing the rough stone with his gloved hand.

“As ever? How old is this place?” Corvus looked around at the walls. They looked old, yes, but cutting into stone like this was still challenging, even with the advances in gunpowder.

“That question has several answers.” Gregory turned and smiled apologetically. “You will learn the details when your classes begin in several months, but I see no reason why I can’t give you a little head-start.” He patted Corvus’ shoulder, laughing to himself.

“Don't do that again.” Corvus brushed Gregory’s hand off, earning a surprised and mildly offended look from Gregory. He smiled again, but it was clear that it held slightly less warmth than before.

“Of course. My apologies.” Gregory apologised. He straightened, clearing his throat in an attempt to reset the conversation. “Yes. Anyway. Desperius. Back in the earliest days of our kind, we used our power and our magic to create a country for us to live and prosper in. It was an uphill battle, the world still reeling from the destruction caused by The Feud of Three, but we succeeded eventually.

“We created Undron. It was unparalleled in scale, might and glory when it was first built, and grew larger and larger under our leader, second reincarnation of the strongest of the Three Kings, ‘Recluse King’ Gilgamesh. His name was Meathre Castian, and he had all the charisma and power of his former self.” Gregory explained.

“Though none of the dazzling good looks.” Gilgamesh added, hanging one-handed from one of the roots on the roof of the hallway.

“Undron prospered under his rule, spreading faster and further that any other. Our capital city was the glorious Desperius. It was so large that it filled nearly a third of our lands. That was its downfall. Those damn life-wielders destroyed us from the inside with their unfathomable religion. It took less than a year for civil war to break out between the royalty and the faith, reaching an end when Meathre’s closest friend assassinated him.

“We were forced out of our own land as they stole our work for themselves, claiming Undron as their ‘right’. They tore down our homes and our legacies to build their own on our foundations. We were powerless to stop them as they removed all trace of us. Desperius became Flouria. Undron became Holsa. And we lost everything, while they were expanding all over Havare.

“Now we live wherever we can, making it as safe and large as possible, while trying to expand at every opportunity. Our home will always be an extension of Desperius, no matter where we are. And now it is our goal to turn Desperius back into the Undron it once was, and to see to it that everyone who stops us is slain.”

Gregory’s speech echoed in the hallway, felias fluttered to and fro. Gregory wiped his eyes and levelled a grim smile at Corvus.

“We live to keep our family strong. Death cannot stop us from fighting, so we will fight until we are the only ones left standing. Even if civilians die, we must forge ahead until the world knows of our struggles and returns to us what we built. And for our enemies, we will defeat them, in this life or the next.” Gregory gestured to the walls.

“We may be underground, but the light of our future is ever bright inside us.”

“You really love speeches, don’t you?” Corvus rose an eyebrow.

Gregory blushed slightly, scratching his head.

“Well, they are one of my strong suits. Come. I’ve delayed long enough.” Gregory chuckled, gesturing forwards.

As Corvus took a few steps forward, something flashed into his head. A phrase. One that perfectly fit with that story. He didn’t know why they were so connected, but there was definitely something.

“An eye ever watchful on those who survive, death will remind no one’s safe who’s alive.” Corvus repeated the phrase under his breath, curious about its meaning.

“Did you say something?” Gregory glanced sideways at him.

“Nope.” Corvus shrugged casually. It would be better if he acted like he knew less than he did.

From Cleo’s warnings, he had to tread carefully around everyone, besides his classmates apparently. Corvus would judge what to do about that after he met them, but until then, play everything safe.

“And here we are.” Gregory announced, gesturing forward.

Corvus tilted his head in confusion. It still looked the same as the last few minutes of walking, what was so different that it required an announcement. Then again, Gregory seemed like the person who would make a speech just to hear his own voice.

“Where exactly is here?” Corvus asked, glancing at a grinning Gregory.

“Watch, my friend, as the Halls of Desperius welcome you.” Gregory’s face was plastered with a stupidly happy grin as he reached his hand a little further forward.

His hand connected with something in the air and he grabbed hold of it. The hallway warped in front of them, turning in on itself and folding back. The stones flowed over each other, sending waves of green light rippling across the surface of whatever Gregory was holding. The horizon shot forward, bringing the tide of rock towards them at blinding speed. Gregory braced slightly, almost unconsciously while Corvus stood his ground.

The rocks collided with a small gust of wind just in front of them, twisting and rippling into something more recognisable. A door sprung into being through the layers of rocks, Gregory’s gloved hand firmly grasping the handle. He turned to Corvus, almost giggling.

“That one always gives me the shivers.” Gregory chuckled, his hair standing on end slightly. With an impressed nod from Corvus, he turned back to the door, pushing it open with a slight grunt of exertion.

The stone door began moving on its own, scraping across the floor with a chilling scratch sound.

Bright green light spilled out through the ever-growing gap, momentarily blinding Corvus. As he blinked the green spots out of his eyes, a truly wondrous scene opened out before him.

A hall, no, a chapel opened around him as he stepped through the door. It was larger than anything he had ever seen before, with echoes spreading out from all the various sounds. The roof was alight with barely visible felias, creating shifting constellations of green stars. There were torches and braziers everywhere, burning with emerald fire that sent dancing shadows across the faces of those inside.

And there was a lot of faces.

A group of three fairly young people, two women and a man, were slowly sparring, checking each other's posture for mistakes. A grizzled man sat on a small outcrop of black stone, engrossed in a messy book of notes and loose paper. Several children were running after each other, laughing, their parents lost in a private discussion.

A man huddled in the corner, running a small black cloud hovering in his hand over a delicate dagger. He returned it to his belt, standing up and flicking through a large sack of parchment scrolls that lay on a bench in front of him. A group of men were standing in a circle, creating small flashes of black lighting and writing notes on each one.

Then there was the doors. There must have been thirty at least, each one made from shining black stone, distinguished from the rest of the black stone of the chapel by the green inscriptions on the surface.

The group of three that were sparring began arguing about something that was lost in the noise of the playing children and the other arguments. They continued to argue as they walked to one of the doors and disappeared inside, their voices vanishing instantly.

Another door opened on the opposite side of the room, allowing a large, bare chested man with sweat covered pure white skin. He was holding what looked to be a small, searing red spearhead in a set of blacksmith’s tongs. He walked over to a woman who was sitting on the ground, lazily turning the pages in a leather bound book, as if she weren't even reading them.

A small conversation ensued, ending in her closing her book and standing to walk back through that same door. The man followed, trying to argue his point, and failing miserably. The woman turned around to rebut his defences, her defensive, emerald eyes shining. Corvus immediately stopped focussing on anything else.

It was Cleo. She was no longer wearing her hunting gear, her weapons or anything that she was had when he last saw her. Her spear was nowhere in sight, her belt and armour was replaced by a loose, comfortable, white shirt and brown smithing apron with several soot stains from the forge. Her dark-red skin made her fairly easy to see in the powerful green light.

Their eyes met and she stopped talking mid sentence. Several seconds passed of surprised silence before Corvus remembered her advice. He gave her a curt nod, showing no hint of affection or friendship. She snapped back into reality and nodded back, her face stoic and formal. The other smith looked over at who she was looking at and almost dropped his tongs when he saw Gregory.

Cleo sighed in irritation, taking them off him and chastising him in an unheard insult. She glanced back for an instant before taking the piece-in-progress back through the door to what Corvus assumed was the blacksmith. The large man turned and nodded awkwardly to Corvus and Gregory before stumbling through the door before it was closed.

“See? Making friends already!” Gregory chuckled, gesturing at the closing door. “Come now. What do you say to a tour?”

Corvus was still looking towards where Cleo had left through. In this place of wonder and cautious safety, he still had some sense of stability with her. He turned to Gregory with a shrug.

“Sure. Let’s start with the toilets.”