🌿
Chapter 1


"Fall gently, my daughter... I cannot protect you here."

Through the veil of sunkissed clouds fell an iridescent wisp. Not many wandering nearby would have caught the sight, but ones who did might brush it off as a star dancing amongst the sky, a common phenomenon in Amoura.

Where it landed exactly would be another mystery. The land was covered mostly in forests, rivers, and mountainscapes, creating a confusing path for those wandering without a compass. Despite the disorganized state, many thrived amongst the beautiful land, careful not to disturb too much of the natural growth that provided shelter, food, and resources for the population.

Within this society thrived many diverse beings—humans, dwarves, elves, halflings, and countless other fantastical creatures yet to be discovered. Each race carved out its own place in the world, contributing to a rich network of trade and interdependence. 

Humans often journeyed in caravans, acting as ambassadors and serving as expert builders whose craftsmanship could be seen in every corner of the realm.

Halflings, with their gentle hands and fertile lands, tended lush farms and supplied the realm with vegetables, fruits, grains, and livestock. Dwarves, stoic and skilled, delved deep into the earth to carve stone for grand structures and unearth crystal, gold, and precious gems. Meanwhile, the elves cultivated beauty and healing—harvesting silk from their enchanted groves and crafting vibrant dyes and potent medicines from rare plants and shimmering insects. Together, they formed a world both harmonious and wondrous, where magic mingled with trade and tradition.

Though the world seemed peaceful, something in the air felt foul, especially recently. This feeling of unease had been growing long before the light pierced the sky and the wisp fell to Amoura. The population was becoming more resentful, selfish, and distrusting of the outside world. And now, whispers of an ancient being descending upon their lands caused even more unrest.

Her descent from the saturated sky contrasted greatly - silent, gentle, innocent.

As it fell closer to the earth beneath the fading unexplainable light the tiny wisp revealed itself to be a female halfling, wearing nothing but a necklace of a golden ribbon holding a single polished emerald.   She landed gently among soft moss and glowing mushrooms, the earth cradling her like it remembered her. The last of her glow faded,  yet the emerald stone remained dimly lit.

“Remember our song, my star.”

 As her body silently laid there, the world held its breath. Not a creature stirred. Not a leaf dared rustle. The trees leaned inward, their gnarled limbs arching protectively over the divine visitor who had fallen into their midst. The halfling seemed to be in a dream-like state, her mind fogged with fragments of memory. All that remained was her name and a lullaby. The soothing warmth of a mother’s voice now long gone.

Moments passed before sounds of the forest picked back up again as if nothing had occurred and time had resumed. Upon first glance, one would think the woman lying unmoving upon the forest floor has gone long past the veils off Vandëllor... but then a faint hum trembled in the air.

From the underbrush, tiny moss-covered figures crept forward on stubby legs—round-bodied, soft, and glowing faintly from within. They were the Mosspods, ancient spirits and noble caretakers of the forest. They surrounded her slowly, quietly murmuring in a language sounding of tiny birds and peeping frogs. One of them, smaller than the rest, approached and gently placed its soft stump of an arm on her forehead where a faint scrape marred her skin from the fall. Bioluminescent light pooled beneath its hand. The injury closed, the skin smoothing—but something bloomed in its place. From the healed wound, a cluster of elegant, curling leaves unfurled. A crown of living foliage now adorned her right temple, moving gently in the breeze.

Leanna stirred slightly and blinked her tired eyes open. The Mosspods, sensing her awakening, bowed their heads in admiration - some cheering with peeps of relief. She pressed her hand firmly on the padded earth and weakly lifted herself from it, instantly missing the warmth and solace the moss provided. For the moment her curiosity triumphed over her fatigue. 

Her long dusty rose hair draped in curls over her ivory freckled skin, the ends falling into the crystal clear pool that surrounded her mossy bed. Her hands brushed the moss, fingers curling instinctively as they touched earth. The touch felt familiar. The moss responded to her, blooming with tiny white flowers beneath her palms. But she did not notice.

Where am I? Is this a dream?

Fragments of memory danced faintly through her head as she watched the tiny moss creatures dance around her. Despite her efforts, all but the faintest of her memories remained out of reach. She felt like herself, but something was missing.

The tiny Mosspods tugged on her delicate fingers, waking her to the world around her. They led her to a clearing in the forest where they offered her glowing berries and sweet forest nectar. She drank. She slept. She healed.

🌿
Chapter 2


A day later, wearing only makeshift coverings made from the earth, Leanna wandered into a clearing dotted with small makeshift huts and tinkering lights. The air smelled of lavender and damp bark, and tiny dragonfly-like insects floated lazily through the air with a blue glow. 

The Littlelings—tiny, curious forest folk no taller than the midsection of a halfling—watched her from behind leaves and giant root hollows. Their eyes were large and cautious, glowing faintly beneath the canopy's light. With as much gentle grace as possible, she knelt gently before them, palms pressed flat to the soft earth to make her sudden appearance as non-threatening as possible. Her silky hair curtained around her small body.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to disturb your home.” she murmured, a hum that bloomed through the forest like the whispers of ancient song.

The Littlelings blinked, and one stepped forward, her arms full of clovers. She sniffed Leanna, then chirped a warbling trill—apparently a sign of acceptance. In response, the rest of the creatures left their refuge and surrounded Leanna curiously and excitedly. They spoke in tongues Leanna did not immediately recognize, but the body language was happy and welcoming. A handful of the creatures pointed at the gem around Leanna's neck that still glowed ever so faintly.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the attention, all she could do was awkwardly smile and let them observe her as the feeling of familiarity washed over her. She didn’t know these creatures - not consciously - but her heart did. Just like with the Mosspods. A memory stirred—a glimpse of childlike laughter and tiny hands fumbling in the palms of another being, who felt like a warm, protective embrace.

They circled her, dozens of them weaving threads from willow silk and petal lace. They dressed her in a gown of dyed silks—iridescent and weightless. Tipped off with a corset, satchel, and cloak for warmth, Leanna felt a little less lost in this new world. Others brought sweet pies made from ground fruit and nectar, which they insisted she eat.

Each night, they gathered in a stump of a large tree to sing lullabies. Their voices, though small, were clear and achingly beautiful. Her eyes brimmed with tears when she shared the very lullaby whispered into her soul as she descended.
On the third day, she danced with the children, sang more songs, and learned a little bit of their language. She slept in a cradle of moss, her fingers curled around her shimmering emerald necklace.

❧

That night, a particular dream found her.

Leanna opened her eyes. The forest around her was gone, replaced with a starlit sky painted in otherworldly sunset colors. She observed this vast, glowing expanse of soft clouds and golden constellations, drifting like lanterns in the sky. The mist danced around her form as she took a few steps forward.

A figure emerged from the shimmer—a tall woman made of light. Her features were both familiar and indistinct, as though drawn from Leanna’s dreams. Golden leaves swirled through her hair, and her eyes shimmered with deep sadness and joy all at once.

Leanna’s heart thudded. "Mother?"

The woman smiled with that familiar warmth, but said nothing.

"Please—I don’t understand," Leanna whispered, holding her hand up towards the shimmer. "Why am I here? Why did you cast me away?"

She raised her hand slowly - as if to reach back to Leanna to reassure her - but then, the world around them changed. In a flash of light, Leanna saw a glimpse of Vandëllor. A veil of gold unraveling. A dark mass spreading across the beautiful, natural world of Amoura, taking away pieces of thriving life with slow agony. She saw the creatures she had befriended only days upon this land, feuding and killing one another after the rot consumed all food, light, and hope within their home.

Each image struck like a note in her chest. A thousand sorrows threaded between them—glimpses of dying lands, corrupted waters, and once-proud guardians falling to their knees under the weight of rot. But she thought perhaps that was all--the world was failing, yes, but the gods could surely still rise to save it?

Then, the stars around her flickered and dimmed, and she saw what Alnor never wanted anyone to see. Vast silhouettes—her kin, the gods of old—stood within a glowing barrier deep in the heart of Vandëllor. They pulsed faintly, dim like embers burning too low. Leanna saw her mother among them, as well as other divine figures, all suspended in stasis, caught in a lattice of thick, shadow-bound veins. It wasn’t a veil of protection—it was a prison.

The golden threads of the veil had turned to blackened vines, deeply cursed, writhing with an oily texture that leached color and light. The gods were no longer rulers of their realms—they were fuel.

From the edges of the vision, a figure stepped forward. It was tall, cloaked in dripping shadow, with a smile that promised ruin. Its body was elongated with skin that clung tight to its bones, exposing sunken cheeks and the cruel lines of his sharp, exposed teeth. Four arms stretched from his sides. Two held a dark orb suspended between clawed hands, glowing faintly with the stolen essence of divine power. He held it in front of him as if to flaunt the power gained from his immoral acts.

A floating crown of thorns twisted above his head, circling slowly as if orbiting a void. It never touched him, but it cast faint, burning lines across his skull with each turn. Despite his thin, withered form, power echoed off him in waves. He looked like a relic of a time that should have crumbled... and yet he endured. Watching. Waiting. Feeding.

A cry of anguish caught in her throat.

He had twisted the veil, repurposed it to siphon divine power and feed his corruption across Amoura. The more they suffered, the stronger he became. The longer the gods remained imprisoned, the more the rot spread through every root, stream, and sky. As long as there wasn't anyone there to stop it, the world would succumb to death and decay.

She let out a trembling sigh, her heartbeat drumming harshly against her chest. She connected the pieces and looked back up toward her mother, the tears shared between them glistening amongst the stars.

The gods needed a voice on the outside. A flame that had not yet gone out - and Leanna was the last spark, cast down quickly in pure desperation to escape his binds.

With the vision fading away, her mother pressed her hand gently to Leanna’s cheek. That familiar embrace she felt earlier in her memories. She lowered it slightly, just above the emerald still bound around her neck. It glimmered, casting a faint ambient glow onto her face, highlighting the streams of tears that fell freely. With urgency, she met eyes with her again as the dream started to fade.

"Mother! Please, I need more of your guidance!" She tried to speak loudly, but it only came out as a whisper. "What can I do as this mere mortal halfling?"

The last thing she would see before the light of reality took over, was her smiling face, and the glistening tears that floated away and joined with the surrounding twilight air.

Leanna woke with a gasp, clutching the emerald against her chest, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat beneath her fingers. Her breath fogged in the cool air. 

❧

The warmth that had surrounded her in recent days had shifted. The forest was still beautiful, still singing with life—but the atmosphere had changed. Something about it now felt... aware. Watchful. As if the trees knew what she had seen.
She sat up in her moss-cradle, clutching the pendant at her chest. Her fingers trembled around the emerald, which pulsed faintly, as if sensing her turmoil. Leanna looked around at the little hollow she’d called home for only a handful of nights. The glowing mushrooms. The wildflowers in vases of bark. The lantern-bugs lazily blinked from leaf to leaf. All of it had been fragile peace.

But she couldn’t stay.

She stood slowly, gently smoothing her dress. Around her, the Littlelings still slumbered in their burrows, curled together beneath flower-petal quilts. She walked silently past their homes, past the stump where they sang their lullabies, past the place where she had danced. The turned one last time to look at the glade, eyes shining with gratitude and sorrow.

“Thank you,” she whispered, not expecting them to hear.

Then she stepped beyond the protective glow of the Littleling grove, into the shadowed forest, guided by nothing but instinct and the pulse of the dream in her chest.

She had to find the truth.

🌿
Chapter 3


Boru didn’t like the way the forest had gone quiet, save for his cousin’s low grumbles.

"This is where the singing came from," Brick said, voice low but excited. 

The underbrush thickened the deeper they went, branches catching on cloaks and the damp scent of moss rising from every step. Boru huffed as a low-hanging vine slapped him in the face for the third time. He grumbled something unrepeatable and ducked beneath it, adjusting the leather strap across his chest.

Boru Brindlebeard was not a graceful dwarf. He was broad-shouldered, thick in the waist, with fingers always wrapped in cuts or soot. His long, dark hair was tied back loosely in a series of uneven braids, and his long moustache-beard combination bore two mismatched metal clasps that clinked when he moved. His fur-lined vest was patched in three different places, and his boots were scuffed to ruin. Despite this, there was a softness to his face: deep-set amber eyes, an often sheepish smile, and a voice that sounded like warm bread. He looked more like someone you’d find mending pots in a village than trailing anything dangerous through cursed woods.

Ahead of him, Brick moved like a hound that caught a scent. Tall for a dwarf, with a sharp-cut jaw and dark red hair shaved at the sides into blunt stubble, the rest of it braided backwards and out of his face. It fell past his shoulders, thick and covered in leaves, where it joined the length of his beard. Similar but shorter than Boru’s, it proudly displayed four golden clasps at the end of small braids.  Brick wore his overconfidence like armor. His axe was larger than Boru’s, notched and blackened along the edges like it had seen too many ugly battles and never once been cleaned after. Every step he took was purposeful, stomping through brush without care, treading on flowers almost on purpose and shoving saplings out of their roots. His gear was sleeker, dyed in dark leather with sigils Boru didn’t recognize anymore. Maybe once they meant something noble.

Maybe once he did too. Where Boru was unsure, Brick was decisive. Where Boru hesitated, Brick acted. It had made sense once- for Boru to follow. Especially after everything they’d lost.

But lately… that blind trust was beginning to sour.

He shifted his grip on the handle of his axe, scanning the trees warily. Beside him, Brick moved with unshakable confidence, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he hacked through the brush with his knife.

Boru shook his head. “It doesn’t sound like a siren. They don’t sing with such sadness.”

Brick scoffed, pushing through a thick curtain of ferns. “No. They can sound like whatever they please to get a fool in their grasp. Most of them sing like a dream before they kill you. You’ll see. Wise up!”

Boru wasn’t so sure. The voice had stirred something in his chest, an ache that had nothing to do with magic or danger. It sounded too honest. Too raw.

They finally stepped into a small meadow, ringed with soft white flowers and tall golden grass swaying in the fading light. At its heart was a camp- humble and delicate, nothing more than a moss-lined blanket beside a crackling fire and a few large stones to aid with refuge. Within this camp housed only a halfling.

She sang with her eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her bare feet tucked beneath her. Her hair shimmered with hues of soft rose, cascading in loose waves down her back and dancing gently in the wind with her tune. The trickling of the pond nearby was just another pleasant sound added to her ears. She was lost in her melody, in some place far from fear. Her voice rose and fell like the breath of the earth itself- aching and tender, layered with memory and sorrow. She sang every night, to make sure she never forgot her mother’s melody.

Boru stood frozen at the edge of the clearing. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink.

In a world that was succumbing to rot, she looked so... pure. No gills, no talons, no jagged teeth or cursed aura. Just a girl singing by her fire like she belonged to the land itself.

“Wait-” he started.

Before he could react further, Brick had rushed out of the brush and cast out a small net, blanketing over the halfling in seconds. The fire smothered instantly under the weight of the net, throwing wood, ash, and whatever was left in Leanna’s makeshift grass satchel across the grass.

It struck her mid-note. She gasped, the sound catching in her throat as she tumbled to the side, tangled and confused. She didn’t scream, she didn’t cry - all she did was look up at the approaching dwarves with wide, fearful eyes, attempting to crawl backwards. Her body felt planted. The splintered rope holding the net together scraped against Leanna’s delicate skin, feeling the uncomfortable texture that contrasted greatly from the soft world she fell onto.

“You made this too easy for me, witch,” he growled, yanking her up  with the net, releasing her from it and immediately binding her arms in front of her.  She whimpered once as the cloth was shoved between her lips. “Almost a waste of time pulling my net out.”

“Brick, you probably just netted some random–”

“She’s a siren,” Brick snapped, dragging her to her knees. “What else would she be, out here, singing that disgusting song, all alone with that glow?” Holding her by the arm, he shoved her further in front him as if to display her to Boru. “This is what they look like, and that’s how they get you.” 

The girl--Leanna, though he didn’t yet know her name—lifted her head. His deep amber eyes locked with hers briefly. There was no hatred. No rage. Just confusion. He didn’t have any answers.

“Help me get her back to the ridge,” Brick barked. “We’ll make camp there for tonight. Tomorrow, we will journey back to the hunters and perform the exchange.”

Leanna lifted her head once more, switching looks between Brick and Boru. 

Exchange?

Boru said nothing but bowed his head like a submissive pup. Brick aggressively shoved past him with the helpless halfling who had yet to grasp her proper footing. 

Moments passed as they walked back along the makeshift trail made by the dwarves while hunting for Leanna. She looked dazed, as if whatever hope she had just moments before had been completely snuffed out. Boru followed silently, axe balanced on his shoulder, held lazily in place with his hand as the last notes of her song vanished into the trees behind them.


🌿
Chapter 4


The  days that followed were thick with silence and subtle tension.
They continued walking in the same order - Boru walked behind Leanna, boots feeling heavier than usual. Brick led with unwavering confidence, humming under his breath as if marching toward fortune. Leanna trailed quietly between them, her arms still bound, mouth gagged.

They didn’t speak of her, not really. Brick called her it or the witch, and Boru, unsure of everything, didn’t correct him.. He even tried repeating it. He couldn’t. The taste was rotten.

Boru was young for a dwarf. Less proven. Brick had always been the voice he followed growing up. He followed him closely after the fall of their home, when an army of shadow swept through and destroyed their land and killed their families. Being the only two surviving kin, they traveled together for some time through the event of the falling star- then something changed in him. Now, Brick was always stomping ahead, eager, determined, motivated with ill intent.  Even though his mind seemed shadowed by hate now, it was easier to trust the man who has kept you alive. 

And yet…

Every time Leanna stumbled, Boru moved instinctively to steady her. He never touched her, respectively, but for some reason he could not help wanting to help this creature. Whenever she gained a hint of courage, she looked at him—not with fear, but with cautious searching, as if trying to understand who he really was behind that quiet gaze. He always looked away.
“Careful with that poisonous gaze,” Brick warned one night, ripping apart some jerky with his teeth and chewing rudely.
“She’ll have your head if you don't get yer head outta yer ass.”

Again, Boru didn’t respond.

❧

The last night, while Brick slept, Boru gently loosened her mouth bind and hesitantly handed her a cup of spring water from the creek nearby. When she did not take it immediately, he placed it down in front of her, making sure to not further intrude her space. Her frozen stature with eyes locked on the clovers next to her made his gut twinge. He sheepishly looked down at his hands, lingering. 

“You’re not... a siren, are you?”

She noticed how tender his voice was when he finally spoke to her in a full sentence. Soothing, yet deep - like a welcoming port in a storm– unlike his cousin, whose consistent angry grumbles felt like sharp sand blowing against your skin.
Without much movement, she glanced in his direction but not into his eyes. That almost felt like enough to convince him. He left her alone after that.

He couldn’t sleep. He sat across from the fire, watching her after she finally let herself sleep beneath her torn thin cloak. Transfixed on the moon-kissed leaves in her hair, he lit up a pipe and began practicing smoke rings. He wanted to refuse the thought that something had changed inside him. He wasn’t sure what, but it was enough to make him question everything Brick had ever told him about the ‘siren’.

❧

The path rounding closer towards the meeting point was rough. Leanna stumbled as Brick dragged her by the rope around her wrists, ignoring Boru’s continued attempts to speak up. Her soft feet caught on roots and stones, and still, she made no sound. The cloth tied across her mouth hid whatever thoughts she couldn’t say aloud, but her body language spoke volumes.
By the time they reached the agreed location - a clearing near the base of the southern cliffs - the air had turned cold and tense.

“They’re close.” Brick muttered. He looked giddy. Boru felt sick.

Leanna could only look at the ground, watching the failing nature brush by her toes. Whimpers left her bound mouth as she realized how quickly she failed her mother’s quest. Tears stained the cloth that imprisoned her angelic voice, hiding herself within the coccomb of her long rose-colored hair.

Brick glanced at Boru in a faded chuckle when he noticed he wasn’t enjoying the moment as much as he was. Before Boru could look away, he witnessed him helplessly gazing at the trembling halfling, his fingers twisting together restlessly.
That’s when he finally snapped.

Brick turned his entire body and shoved himself between the two, towering over Boru. He jumped in his spot, shrinking instantly when Brick’s shadow overpowered him.

“Is this a game to you?” he hissed through gritted teeth.  “I’m so damn tired of seeing the way you look at this witch.” He gave him a small shove to distance himself from Leanna. “Feeble fuck.”

Slightly stumbling, he let out a nervous sigh, blaring with sudden insecurity. “I-I keep telling you, she’s not what you think, cousin.” Boru replied, taking a step back. 

Brick leaned in, voice low and venomous. “You think I don’t know? That ‘bounty hunter’ we’re meeting—Bastion—he serves the almighty Alnor. The girl’s not a siren. She’s a fallen goddess. Alnor wants her back to finish what he started. It’s pretty simple.” He glanced between the two. “You were only going to pester me more about it if I just told the truth.”
Boru recoiled, stunned. Brick rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Yes, I knew this whole time. If you had a bit of sense, you’d let go of this foolish attraction and think about what we are getting in return.”

“What do you even mean by that? And who is Alnor?” Boru furrowed his brows in frustrated confusion as the information came crashing down on him. Brick's voice was a deep, unrecognizable growl.

“The King of Despair. He promised power and protection as we layer this world with dread until it has completely succumbed to his shadow.”

Leanna began weeping behind Boru in quiet, stifled sniffles, curling her body forward slightly.
Before he could respond, Boru glanced behind Brick’s shoulder to see two figures standing at the edge of the forest. The wind shifted. Unnatural, too still. Then, like spilled ink bleeding into parchment, the two cloaked figures stepped out from the shadows. The sky’s colors seem to shift from pleasant to foreboding, as if the sun partially eclipsed just then. 

Bastion moved like a shadow drawn to hunger.  His cloak whispered around him as if alive. His irises were the color of decay, surrounded by dark veins outlining his upper face. His silver shoulder-length hair flowed freely and disheveled. Behind him loomed the second—silent, cloaked, brooding. Boru couldn’t see his face, but every instinct in him screamed danger. That man watched like a predator. For some reason he was no man like Bastion– he was an elf –long dark hair draped over his face and shoulders, dim red eyes peeking through with heavy intimidation. They shared the shade like brothers, but they looked nothing alike.

Boru gripped the haft of his axe, sweat clinging to his palms. Not from fear of the trade—but fear of the truth. Right away Boru believed these men were not merchants. They were not here for coin. They reeked of the same darkness that had swallowed his home. Of plague. Of rot. It curled off them like smoke. The longer they loomed in his presence, the taller the hairs on the back of his neck stood.

Brick stepped forward with a proud grin, proudly displaying the halfling. “Told you I’d deliver.”
Bastion tilted his head without changing expression in the slightest. His dark, sunken eyes pierced through Brick’s feeble skull, completely unimpressed. “Wipe that stupid expression off your face.” 

Leering passed the dwarf, he glanced at Leanna. She could not look at him for longer than a second before she felt fear down through her toes. From within his cloak dripping in gloom was a leathered hand that reached for Leanna. Emitting from his palm was an unexplainable distortion of air and shadow.

Boru’s heart pounded. Every fiber of his body screamed to do something – but he was no hero. He was clever, sure—strong, and perhaps creative—but not brave. He wasn’t the sort of dwarf who stood in front of monsters. He avoided fights when he could. Avoided decisions like this. He'd always trusted an older family member to help with such pressure, and the only living one had seemed to fully succumb to Alnor’s manipulation.

He looked at Leanna—her arms bound, hair tangled, cheeks hollow. Strands of her hair trembled along with her petite form as she tried to vanish beneath it completely. She looked back at Boru, not pleading, not even hopeful. Just accepting. Silently thanking him for the ounce of humanity while walking to her doom. 

“Wait,” Boru croaked, before he could stop himself.

Bastion stopped. Brick turned, his expression darkened. Without turning back to the two hunters and staring down Boru, he grumbled with a tense jaw. “My sincere apologies about the only surviving idiot I ended up with. He has no tough bone left in his body.” 

 The hunters tensed as Brick stepped forward, a looming presence, his shadow casting long over Boru like a stormcloud blocking out the last rays of warmth. He stalked toward him, not with the chaotic fury of a madman, but with the cold, precise menace of a wolf asserting dominance over its pack. His boots crunched on the frostbitten earth with finality. Boru tried to hold his ground, his jaw clenched, chest square, but something in him curled inward beneath that piercing, unrelenting stare. Brick’s eyes, those soulless things now hollowed by rot, searched Boru’s for something he’d long since decided wasn’t there.

His lip curled with disgust. “You’ve always been soft. Weak from the start.”

Without warning, Brick’s fist drove forward, crashing into Boru’s ribs- right where the old break had barely knit back together. The blow landed with a sick, muffled thud, knocking the breath from his lungs. Boru gasped and crumpled, dropping hard to one knee, a rough exhale breaking through his teeth. His axe slipped from his grip with a muted clang against the dirt, his hand braced against the cold earth to keep from fully collapsing.

Brick loomed over him now, seething. “You were supposed to follow me!” he snarled. “You were my blood. And now look at you- an embarrassment. To me. To the name we carry. To Alnor himself.”

Leanna, still bound at the wrists, flinched at the violence. Her breath caught in her throat as Boru dropped. Her body lurched forward on instinct, begging to do something. She didn’t know him, not truly. But he was the only one in this cruel new world who had offered her a moment’s softness. The only hand that hadn’t reached for her as a prize or a pawn, and now he was doubled over, hurt again– because he wanted to show mercy?

Her heart pounded, and her wrists strained against the rope. She could do nothing but watch. 

Bastion and Sven did not budge, their forms nearly statuesque. The scuffle between lowlifes unimpressed them, but continued watching the degrading conversation unfold as if the hatred radiating off of Brick were a delicious meal.
Boru coughed, tasting iron in his mouth. Satisfied with his outburst, Brick turned back around to face the nonchalant duo again. "As you were, commander Bastion."

Things continued in slow motion for Boru and Leanna. She stared at him, wide-eyed with concern after radiating defeat just moments before. Boru, who cowardly looked away upon strong eye contact, finally stared back at the halfling. The sounds around them became a muffled ambiance for a second before Boru ultimately acted.

Whatever weighed him to the dirt dissipated, and he quickly reached into his pouch hanging from his side and pulled out a vial of oil and a shimmerstone, generally used like flint, but can also light paths and have explosive consequences if not used properly. 

Pain shooting through his ribs, he stood back to his feet, spitting blood from his mouth without much grace. Without another word, he threw down the vial and stone as hard as he could between him, Leanna, and the shady trio. Glass shattered everywhere into fine glitter. Particles floated into the air violently, popping and cracking like magic fireworks.  White flame briefly flickered through the blinding chaos, catching bits of grass and Brick’s clothes on fire.

Completely thrown back by his own results, he shielded his eyes and quickly reached for Leanna, who was also hiding herself from the sudden burst. With a gentler yank than Brick’s, he pulled Leanna away urgently.

Bastion whirled his hand in front of his face, attempting to dim the shimmer with his own dark power, but to no avail. The cloaked man behind him—Sven—stepped back as white fire curled toward the treeline. Through squinting eyes and shade from his hood, Sven brought out his bow,  lining up makeshift arrows dipped in poison spores from the rot.

Projectiles hissed passed Boru and Leanna, barely missing them as they got lost in the shade of the woodlands. They ran until both their chests burned and legs buckled– a half mile, four miles, it didn't matter. They just wanted to get as far away as possible.

 All they managed to find for temporary refuge was the shell of an uprooted tree, the roots creating a small dome as overgrowth flourished around it. The agonizing pain radiating from his ribs nearly made him collapse. Before he let himself do so, he made sure to pull Leanna into the root with him, prioritizing the removal of the fabric around her mouth and cutting her binds.

She had every opportunity to run, to leave the exhausted, broken dwarf behind and escape through the forest until her legs break. 

However, she sat there next to him within the root for what felt like hours, catching their breath, settling their racing hearts, listening if the hunters caught up with them. He was facing away from her, grimacing and hunched over, holding onto the burning pain where Brick had kicked his ribs that only just healed. Leanna hid in her cloak, curled on the other side of the root as far from him as she could without being unprotected. She gently massaged her wrists that had been so tightly bound that they rubbed her smooth skin raw.

 Time passed and there was no sign of anyone stirring nearby, but that didn’t mean much to them at this point. The evil magic that radiated off of Bastion, Sven, and now Brick, was beyond their comprehension. For all they knew, Alnor and his followers were breathing down their necks.

As they slowly recovered and the danger subsided, Leanna adjusted herself away from Boru into her own protected space with arms wrapped around her legs. Her gaze fixed onto her one visible wrist that bore scarring from her bounds. She hadn’t said a word since they’d stopped running, as if still waiting for the inevitable.

Boru fidgeted beside her, hands clasped between his knees, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He cleared his throat once.

Then again. 

“So... my name’s Boru...” he blurted awkwardly once he caught his breath. “...by the way. Boru Brindlebeard. I don’t think I mentioned that. Back when we were, uh... runnin’ for our lives.”

Leanna blinked, startled by the break in the still air. Her cloak shuffled as she peeked at him through her messy curls.
He gave a lopsided, sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head. “Ah. You probably already figured that out. Brick yelled it enough times. Usually when he was mad. Which... was most of the time.”

A bird chirped overhead. 

“I’m not like him,” Boru added quickly, attempting to relieve the deafening silence. His voice was lower now. “Didn’t mean to keep ya waitin’ so long to prove that. Truth is, I have no clue what I’m doing. I followed Brick for so long… he used to be …respectable.” He looked down at the dirt between his boots, realizing how much he was rambling to this terrified creature. “Anyway. That’s me. Dwarf, likes bread, doesn’t sell women to whatever those hunters were, and has no plan.” He counted his listed facts on his thick digits with a bit of a sarcastic, yet playful tone.

Without thought, she let out a slight airy laugh through her nose. It was small, short, but it was enough for him. Boru began breaking sticks apart in hopes to hide the thudding heartbeat drumming in his ears. It was almost too loud to notice Leanna’s delicate response.

“Leanna,” she said softly.

He nodded with another crooked smile, glancing at her before returning to his pile of sticks organized by length. “Lovely name. I think it suits ya.”

She hid herself again, shuffling away but continuing to watch him sort the broken sticks. Boru tried to ignore it, but the information Brick laid onto him was deafening.

Was he telling the truth about her being a fallen goddess?
Future chapters to be posted soon...