"Is that..." one of them said.

"The Cleave's Insignia," said the old man, he was the oldest person in the room, dark skinned, balding with a stubborn crown of white hair around his head, and with an wild white beard. He was holding some kind of walking aid, or a staff, It was essentially a piece of wood with a half circle at the top, or an upwards arc.

"Forgery," said Drak.

"It isn't, I'm sure of it, there are already very few blacksmiths around, even less good ones, and only one that knows how to do that exact color pattern."

"Are you going to say he's lying too?" asked Rimni, challengingly.

"He isn't," said another one of the men present, he was sitting by one of the stools on the corner, he was the type that managed to look fat and muscular at the same time, I couldn't see his face very well because of the lighting and because of the helmet he was wearing.

"And what makes you an expert on the subject, Nambu?"

"The fact that the blacksmith is my father," he said.

Drak didn't argue against that.

"Then what? Is he the son of one of them? Because a member of the Cleave would be even older than him," said Drak, pointing towards the old man. "And who is the girl? What's your relationship with her?"

I knew nothing about what they were talking about, except Zanir was obviously a part of it, since he gave me the pendant. Luckly Mina was keeping quiet this time, and not saying something that would make the situation harder.

The silence grew uncomfortable.

"He..." she started.

She didn't finish it.

"What?" demanded Drak.

Why was she getting stuck now? She had been lying with ease this whole time. Right? When I actually thought about it, she could have been telling the truth, she recognized the pendant but it wasn't just that, while the others were surprised and even a bit afraid of the symbol, her reaction was harder to read. Maybe she knew Zanir, and "acquaintance" was a stretch but if she really couldn't lie...

"I'm Zanir's... disciple," I blurted, before the silence got too suspicious. "The girl is Mina, I found her in the tunnels, she's like a sister to me."

I didn't know if they knew him, or about him, what came to mind first was telling them I was his son, but saying that wasn't an option given the difference of our looks, "disciple" was what sounded more reasonable. I wasn't sure what to say about Mina and I didn't want to try another complex lie without even knowing what I was lying about, so I just told them she was like my sister, so if I lived, they would probably spare her too.

"Disciple? Do you ta—"

“They’re here,” said Setros.

I heard "them" too, a weird sound, like a horse with way more legs than four, hitting the ground in synchrony, one after the other, and yet, also at the same time. Similar to the centipede, but heavier and faster.

“Quick, everyone get in position”—he paused, looking at me—“if you do anything to compromise this—no, if you do anything suspicious at all, I’ll put this spear through your head,” said Drak.

He put rectangular, thick wooden locks on me and Mina then went back near the door. Alma took Moon and the hammer from me and gave it to Setros.

They all got to moving, Rimni, Alma, Len and the old man moved to the center of the room, wooden locks were put on their arms too by one of the men dressed in what I now pieced together that was probably what the guards from the previous room were probably wearing.

“I think we've had enough death threats for a fade,” said Len.

“Just shut up.”

“Aya, boss,” he said, mockingly standing straighter.

A knock on the door and we all stopped.

"King's Light, open up!" the voice demanded.

Drak nodded to Setros, who walked to the door and opened it.

A man bursted inside without minding to greet anyone and examining the room, completely ignoring everyone except Alma's group. He was a bit lower than me in height, white and looking to be in the end of his thirties, he had blonde hair slicked back and a still visible shaved beard on a pointed jaw, with a nose just a little too big and thin. His armor, unlike the ones Drak and Setros were using, wasn't made out of wood, but metal, a full breastplate with shoulder and arm guards, the clothing underneath was white, a shirt with a long pleated skirt that reached around his ankle.

"Are the prisoners ready?" asked the man.

"To die?" said Len. "Actually, I forgot to get my dying clothes, If you could take these off and let me go get them, I'd really appreciate it."

The man walked towards him, stopped, and slapped him so hard that Len fell to his knees, then stood in front of him, menacingly, as Len spit blood and picked himself back up, grinning.

"They're ready," said Drak, as if ignoring what happened.

The situation so far was pretty obvious, we were prisoners and they were taking us somewhere. The man looked at each one of us in turn, stopping the longest in front of Alma, a smile of satisfaction on his face, but it vanished when he got to me and Mina.

"And these are?" he gestured towards us.

Drak didn't flinch, didn't blink. Like a stranger, me, hadn't just messed with the flow of whatever his plan was.

"He's suspected of being a member of the Cleave, sir, we don't know about the girl, but she's affiliated with him," said Drak.

The man's eyes widened a bit at that.

"Hm. Is he now? Talk me into it on the way," said the man, "we've brought another balled for your men."

He turned and left the room, Drak and Setros exchanged a glance and followed the man. Then the rest followed behind, but I had difficulty moving, I had almost forgotten about the window, how we might be outside.

I gulped. I was sweating, despite the chilly wind that came from the other side of the door, and my heart started jumping in my chest. What was behind that door? Some magical underground kingdom? Just another room? More tunnels? Did it led outside? Would the fantasy continue or finally end?

As I walked past that door, awe was all I felt.

I stood on a cliff, countless dots of blue and yellow light covered every surface of the vast underground dome that extended above and below me, massive pillars and roots as thick as the biggest of trees connected the roof to the floor of the cave, with several wood or rock constructions built anywhere space was available and building something was possible, some bordering the line of being dangerous regarding structural integrity and ground stability.

"What the fuck..." was the only words I managed.

"What?" asked Alma, whispering so only I could hear her.

"Nothing."

This was real, all of it, no dream, no conspiracy.

"I brought those two balleds for the criminals and your men," said the man, pointing to the bizarre creatures I hadn't noticed to our right.

The sectioned had a black carapace and dozens of legs, it was between two to three meters tall and just as long. Like a bulky centipede, or a pill bug the size of a vehicle. There was a wood container on it's back, and a man near the head, holding a rope with its ends connected to the creature's antennae.

"Very thoughtful, sir," said Drak.

"So? Are we going to stand here till the last crystal fades?" asked the man.

"Ah, yes. What are you all waiting for!? Load the prisoners!" shouted Drak, changing his tone fast enough that it could be called professional acting.

The men began to move, putting a ladder at the side of the beast and making us climb one by one, which was quite slow, with our handcuffs on.

"What is your name again?" asked the man.

"Drak, sir."

"You'll come with me, I want to hear all about the capture of the four most wanted criminals of Arness," the man said. He paused and our eyes met. "Especially about that one."