'd never seen so many dead bodies in one place-never seen this amount before, for the matter.

We'd gone through what were around six hundred rooms for hours now. And Liam was right, there was no guessing at what horrors were hidden here. So much blood, so many dead, so many cries.

The first two hundreds were reserved to newborns. We watched-as we remained hidden between the folds of the world-as the babes were pulled out of their mothers, as they were chained down to tables and infused with magic. We watched as some bled to their death, or crumbled beneath the weight darting in their blood. We watched as some survived, adopting the darkness, letting it taint them. Own them. We weren't able to do a thing to save them. Or to spare the mothers slaughtered straight right after.

We only walked deeper, pushing away the small, broken cries. Trying not to stare too long, not to see the newborns shrieking against the cold table, their eyes rolling back, their hands grasping for nothing. And then, silence. I never imagined that silence could sound this loud.

I didn't deign ask how Yesar was faring. A mighty, general's son, a warrior himself that would never disclose how he felt, who would never let it show. But he was a newly-made father. And I knew that he imagined the son he had not met yet on those tables, that he saw Taliana in those cells, trying to reach for her child.

It didn't get easier the deeper we went.

Another two hundred rooms, and I knew then why the children at Green Leaf's village were abducted. Why guards took the girls barely past their first bleed from their homes. I wished I didn't. Wished I hadn't seen them bloodied and chained, left for breeding. Forced to carry demons in their wombs, to lose a piece of themselves with each breath as the monsters within them ate them from the inside. They had been little more than decaying bodies, standing on nothing but a string between life and death.

Dying slowly, rotting in dungeons and experiment rooms where the world would not see them. Where no one would know of them, would save them.

Perhaps ending them as we passed by would have been their salvation. Perhaps I should have done that, should have put them out of their misery. But it was such a risk to take, such a clear sign that someone was here.

And so we went deeper, descending levels after levels until there had been no more specialists working, hunched over their tables. Until magic swayed all around, doing all the work that couldn't be trusted to any living being.

We found the Drakals, then. And I realized that the river of souls I'd seen in my vision at Leaf's village wasn't truly real. The thick smoke, the finger-like shapes that came out, those we found. But they poured out of a cauldron carved into the walls. Out of a gate.

Blake's magic was creating monsters never seen before, assembling them piece by piece, building their bodies from shreds of organs. And the souls they poured into them were real, pulled straight out of the realm of the dead. And for Blake to be able to do so, to open such gates...it wasn't normal magic. It wasn't even Dearcious's. It was a fleck of what Apocalys had, of what he left dispersed for his servant to collect.

I stopped when I saw one of the beasts surging to life, head snapping from side to side with a furry, smoke coming out of a broken nose. Stitches bled together, different tissues merging, organs surging back to life.

The sounds that came out of this...this thing made my blood go cold. I didn't know what it was, what it sounded like. I didn't even know how to kill this creature-if it could be killed, even.

Yesar's gentle nudge was the only thing that tore my attention from those glowing eyes darting from side to side. From the horns that left holes in the walls, the talons that were so hard they pulled the bricks out of the floor as they moved.

I continued walking, the men still at my back, each of them drained from any color. Even the light that had glinted in their eyes when I'd told them about Taliana had dwindled-crushed. It had been crushed and replaced by all the horrors we observed.

'How many do you think they have already made?'

Even through a bond, Liam had tried keeping his words low, as though fearing the darkness working around us could hear. Perhaps it could, perhaps it would have delved in our minds if we ever stepped out of this pocket within the world. I wasn't about to try and find out.

Yesar eyed another room as we passed by, observed as life was poured into the bodies, and whispered down that bridge, 'I am not so sure. But whatever the amount is, we might fairly be doomed.'

Doomed-we truly might have been just that. We had a newly found army, warriors who have fought in the first war. But those warriors hadn't stood against Drakals before, against beast made by long studies. By pieces picked from hundreds of species, the best strengths and traits forged in one body.

The few hundred we'd seen in these hours only could level cities. Could annihilate a continent. I didn't want to imagine what an army of them would do, but the thoughts found their way. And I could only remain silent as I imagined cities bursting to ashes and dust, the Ether Castle falling, heads rolling down hills in Arelesia, Rimelia, Nevora, Cantelot.

It made me wonder if I were wrong, if I shouldn't have grasped that bit of hope.

The corridor came to an end, and unlike all the other levels, there had been no more stairs down. No more rooms and dungeons.

'We should heed back.'

I remained standing right there, facing the wall, shifting for a moment my attention to where I'd left my clone at. There hadn't been anything out of control during the hours we'd been down here, nothing to suggest Blake or Lysithea knew what we were doing.

I turned to face Zarès, and spoke down the bridge for the first time, 'No.'

He blinked before sneaking a swift stare to his in-law then at the dead end behind us. 'There is nothing left to see.'

Yesar remained silent, hands clasped at his back. But his eyes spoke so much. He'd been surprised out of belief the first time I'd snuck into his mind, the first time I spoke through a bond between us. A Whisperer himself at core, a mighty spirit, an Aether-blessed. Perhaps the strongest mind here before I came, the heaviest source of information. And for me to come silent into his very consciousness, to roam his thoughts without stirring a bit of him, it had been a clear indication to what I could do with little effort. We'd been a team since then, always together when it came to searching for secrets hidden within memories.

The General's son didn't need his mind-reading abilities to know what I was about to say.

'There is plenty left to be seen.' I laid my hands flat against the darkness around us, tweaking it, changing its structure. 'You just need to know where to look.'

I turned back to the wall, the darkness turning liquid around us. It swayed like waves, washing against the barrier of the world we were hidden within, thinning charms around us bit by bit. I made them see then through my mind what their eyes couldn't perceive. What was hidden beyond their senses.

Liam only took a deep breath as the wall faded into moving dust, as it dispersed as I walked through. They followed. The walls we crossed reformed, the dust hardening again. It was as though the world was bending for us, cleaving to let us pass.

'It is not the wall that has vanished.'

I smiled, staring over my shoulder at Yesar. The wall had dispersed, but he saw how our edges did, too. How they bled into the world. 'No.' The darkness shifted with us, paving our way. 'It is us who went through.'

'But we've passed walls before without...all of this.'

I hummed, pointing at the edges, at the darkness, pulling Liam's attention to where his answers lay. 'These runes,' the old words in swirling patterns, 'they are the spell that opens this path.'

'How didn't we stir them, then?'

'Because they stretch only so far: they're anchored in the real world and only threads and tendrils can go beyond.'

'So we walked deeper within the world where it can't sense us. Isn't it?'

I hummed again as Yesar's words echoed between my thoughts. The magic around us shifted and we moved slow. Slow, because I knew I kept the spells steady, that I missed no hole, that I left no fissure in the fabrics of the world. I still needed to see if I could extend it, if I could go harder with it, if I could use it in battles.

'You were given the choice to join the rest of the Whisperers, to live long and safe under the Armedes' protection. Why turning it down?'

Yesar let out a long breath, his eyes taking in the marvel of the powers around us. It was in his blood, in his existence, that curiousness about the universe and its strength. The mind of a Whisperer, a lover of information who would scout continents and sail seas to study. He could have done that if he'd taken the offer, could have unlocked the secrets of the world with his kind.

'Because I knew fights and blood before I knew peace and serenity. Because I was a bastard running the streets, stealing for a living, and the thought of being welcomed in a place that would trap me for the rest of my life...it didn't sound quite appealing. I knew I could be useful in other ways. I knew I could help in ways none of your spies could.'

'Did you ever regret this decision?'

A heartbeat of silence. And I sensed him smile even before turning to stare at him. That kind of small, barely-there smile. The kind upon remembering all the absurd things done in the past. I never truly saw Yesar smile before.

'At the start, I did. I paid more than I had imagined to get here, and there had been a time where I considered myself a damned fool for throwing myself in this mess. But I know now that I would do it all over again, because I saved more lives this way than hiding.'

'I never remember hearing you speak that much at once.'

I chuckled, not sure if it was because of what Liam had said, or the way Yesar eyed him-they'd been friends before being family. They'd both been in this hell together for years.

'Perhaps because your presence doesn't entertain me this much.'

I knew Liam was about to say something, felt the words forming, but he let it drop. For another time, perhaps not quite at ease with me here. It was odd, knowing that Yesar, that unbreakable warrior, had warmed up to me while Liam hadn't truly done that.

'Speak your mind, Liam,' I breathed, watching the walk coming to an end, 'I don't think anything coming out of you would equal to that one time you were hitting on me.'

'You did what?' Yesar's eyes were laughing, sliding between us again and again.

Zarès rubbed his jaws, not meeting my eyes as I seized him up with a glance. 'I still lay sometimes at night thinking about it. I could have done better than that.'

'You definitively could have done better.'

He groaned, still rubbing at his face. 'Still want me dead?'

I shrugged as I stopped, stepping into a dark, faintly lit room. The only light came from the candles placed in the invaginations of the wall, the swaying of the flames casting sleek shadows that danced around us. A faint dripping sound rang steady, its echo swallowing the small space.

Drip drip drip...

I knew the smell that filled the air, knew what was dripping before I even crouched to check the small stream running in the canal carved into the floor. Blood. Old and thick. And powerful. I could not touch it, or anything in this room for the matter, as long as I remained out of the real world. All I could do was follow the stream of blood with my eyes, studying the words carved on each side of it.

They led me to the massive table in the middle of the room. To the gold encrusted sarcophagus lying atop of it.

There was a hole as small as a lentil on the surface facing the wall from where we'd come through from where the blood seeped. It trailed down the gold, then the marble supporting the sarcophagus and down to the stream that built up over centuries.

Liam was crouched on the side facing mine, trying to read the symbols, the stories carved onto it. So many of them, so many secrets, so many tongues. I rounded the coffin until I was where the head was supposed to be, and found the start of all that was carved.

The beginning of the story. The first dawn of the demons' reign.

It told everything: the first Red War, Dearcious's transformation, the rising of his son, all the rulers that followed. It even told what was before that. Before all existence. It told how the world was nothing but darkness, it told what Apocalys had wanted to turn Ardoria to.

I read them all, piece by piece. Breathing became harder the more I read. Cold laced my fingertips, a heavy weight growing over my chest. This coffin...it emanated darkness. It hissed. It cawed. It beckoned me, just like that thing back in the throne room. It wanted me to come closer, to touch it.

It wanted me. It chanted. It begged.

I felt my powers building up in my blood, seeping into every bit of me, wanting to get out of here, to reach it.

I could feel its magic lacing up the corners of the room, swaying with the shadows. Even those shadows looked like men. I almost saw faces in them, almost heard them chant like the tomb did.

It called me. It begged and it begged.

So much powers. So much magic. My hands trembled. My throat felt dry. My breaths were heavy.

I reached for Yesar's arm, digging my fingers until I felt the armor dent. He laid his hand above it, making sure I wouldn't push through the magic to answer its call. Liam took hold of the other.

I wanted to touch it, to feel its coldness beneath my skin. I wanted to know how that magic would taste like, how it would feel against mine. It was hypnotizing.

It drew me like a moth to a blazing light.

The shadows swayed, the magic twirled, and I heard the distant approach of someone. The steps echoed closer and closer until she stepped out of the darkness, the ruby of her headpiece glinting beneath the candlelight.

The Queen.

It wasn't the same dress she wore to the meeting. And-

It was her face, and her aura, but it was not real. The scent laced to hers, the throb of powers within and around her, it was not real.

My grip tightened and both men kept me secure as I saw the knife she pulled, the sharp blade that could end lives with a brush. The belt of her robe loosened slowly until the silk parted, revealing moon white skin that almost glowed in the darkness. And a slightly round belly.

Lysithea didn't flinch as she plunged the blade into her pelvic region, didn't blink as her black blood trickled down her legs as she cut her own flesh. Slowly, carefully. The sarcophagus groaned as she pulled the knife out of her body. As a small mass of blood came floating out of her.

That other scent, that familiar scent-

The blood trickled first into the coffin from a hole on its upper surface until it left only a sheer sac hovering above it. The sac, the days-old embryo within it. This was Blake barely a few days into her pregnancy, and already the size of an eight weeks.

The sarcophagus opened, then. And the small sac drifted to it, gently pulled by magic until it nestled within it, until it pierced it and ran through him. The coffin closed, and blood surged on its surface like throbbing vessels as all the candlelight went out. Lysithea only wrapped her robe tight and went out through the shadows.

The memory broke and the lights birthed again, but the chanting did not diminish. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breaths, on how loudly my blood pumped in my ears. This magic, whatever it was, it shouldn't affect me this much. It shouldn't want me this much.

Yesar's words were tentative, calm, 'What have you seen?' My grip on his arm hardened until it could snap bones. 'Who lays here?'

'No one.'

Breathless. I was utterly breathless. It was not a coffin. It held no body. It was from where the demon Armedeses birthed. It was from where they harvested all this darkness.

The runes, the stories, the words carved, it all made sense now.

It was Dearcious's tomb. It was where his powers were left, to pick who should be the next reincarnation, to see who was fit.

But Blake had been formed, he'd been forged from two bloods, and yet was Dearcious. And-and...

I didn't know what to make out of this. I didn't know how this reincarnation worked. But I knew I wouldn't find any more answers here.

My darkness intensified around us, pulling us away. I let it carry us, didn't steer it, didn't order it. I let it take me far from this incessant, pleading strength. It had kept me safe so many times before, I knew it wouldn't fail me.

Liam let go of my hand first, and I wondered if his skin still burned at the contact of a fire-blessed, if it would hurt once his mask came off.

None of them pressured me to talk, and they did not pry to where the darkness was carrying us. I pushed myself up, forcing my body to straighten, my legs to keep steady. Slowly, my senses came back, and my magic idled bit by bit, letting go of its heavy torrent. The trashing waves became a calm sea, entirely obedient to my will.

'Do not ask. I have no answer.'

And so they obeyed, and kept calm until the darkness arrived to where it wanted, leaving us standing in front of a lone dungeon, mighty, power-forged bars standing between us and the heavy fog inside.

A singing voice was what welcomed us at first. A thin, daunting voice that sang in one of the oldest languages known to the world. It made my spine tingle, it made my breath caught in my chest. It wasn't soothing, it wasn't calming-if ever, it was the entire opposite.

It took me some to strain my ears, to catch what the fog was singing.

''In the midst of night, silence falls,

The son of Death come sweeping through the darkened halls.

Fingers of night brush over your chest,

He has come, him who you cannot wrest.

He pulls your soul, owning you whole,

A rip in the world has formed, an unfilled hole-''

The singing stopped, and the fog retreated, leaving the silhouette of a hunched body. The tapping of his nails on the rough ground ceased. The fog slithered, twirling around Ha-ámej, mantling him, condensing in the holes where his eyes should have been.

He turned his head towards where we stood, a cracking sound echoing with the movement, his nails scrapping against the floor as he pushed himself forward.