4.

  Raelynn

  Glass chimed softly in the other room. The familiar clink and scrape of jars told me everything I needed to know before the sharp scent of herbs reached my nose. My father was at it again. Alchemy. I dragged the brush through the knots in my raven hair, already bracing myself for what might come.

  The explosion still came without warning. The walls shuddered. Bottles rattled violently on my desk. I yelped, dropping the brush as I lunged forward, catching two glass vials just before they tipped over to shatter against the wooden floor.

  I exhaled slowly.

  “Atta!” I called out in elvish, our native tongue. Father is what it meant. I tossed the rescued bottles onto my bed near the wall and sprinted toward the living room. We lived in a modest three-bedroom house just beyond Townhaven—once a quiet trading village by the sea, now slowly swelling into something larger.

  Trading businesses like Spook’s and Azurian’s had breathed life back into its bones. The scars of the war had faded, save for the statue in the city centre: a hooded figure, faceless and eternal, raised in memory of those who never returned.

  I skidded to a halt in the living room. Blue smoke hung thick in the air, turning the space into a misty place. The living room had turned into my father’s personal alchemy lab. Where candles and paintings once decorated the shelves, were now pots, drying herbs and half-labelled jars. The wooden floor bore stains in every imaginable hue, evidence of experiments gone wrong.

  I coughed, waving the smoke away as I rushed to the window and threw it open.

  “I thought I had it this time,” my father said hoarsely. He emerged from the haze, hair dusted blue, the same powder smeared across his cheeks like war paint.

  “Maybe alchemy just isn’t your calling, Atta,” I said gently, still in Elvish. He waved me off with a cough, scrubbing at his face with a cloth.

  “Nonsense, nín hína my child. You can do anything if you truly set your mind to it.”

  I rolled my eyes. He always said that. Some things, however, simply were not possible. After Mother died, I had tried, really tried, to follow the path of the healers. The ancient elven art that could knit flesh, soothe failing organs, even pull souls back from the brink of death. All elves possessed some magic, but mastery required devotion, patience… and a certain kind of talent.

  One I didn’t have.

  No matter how hard I studied, my magic slipped sideways. Where others restored, I reshaped perception, creating illusions. I could make the unreal feel real, but I could not mend what was broken.

  As the smoke thinned, I checked my father quickly for burns or cuts. Finding none, I relaxed. He patted my back fondly and turned back to his cluttered desk, already lost in his notes. I grabbed my pack.

  “I’m heading out. Meeting Azren,” I called.

  He froze.

  “Azren?” His head snapped up. “Did we have a lesson scheduled?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re meeting in the forest to practice spells.”

  The crease between his brows deepened instantly. Worry lines carved themselves into his face. I sighed inwardly. I knew this dance far too well.

  “You know I don’t like you meeting him outside formal lessons,” he said. I pressed my lips together, guild pricking at me even as irritation flared.

  “We’re just friends.”

  “It’s not that,” he began. “It’s—”

  “His morals,” I finished flatly. “I know. You think he’s dangerous.”

  He sniffed, annoyed. He hated being interrupted.

  “There is something odd about this boy. I know it. His magic is tainted. Heavier. Darker,” he said quietly.

  “And yet you keep teaching him,” I shot back.

  “Because without guidance, he might choose the wrong path,” he replied sharply.

  “Wrong… right. Good and evil. Who even decides that?” I threw up my hands. “He’s a kind man. He’s responsible and his family helped save the Mid Realm. He’s not some villain lurking in the woods.”

  His foot began to tap. A small sign of his anger. Elves mastered their emotions with age, but the body always told the truth. You can’t completely suppress your emotions.

  “Nín hína,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you are still too young to understand the danger of those who walk the line between order and chaos. He will pull you down with him.”

  Anger burned hot in my chest. Too young?!

  By elven standards, perhaps, but I had walked this world for thirty years. Elves called it maturing when we reached a century. It’s when mind and magic fully settled into themselves, creating a balance. But in my opinion that did not mean that you were immature in the years before.

  “Fine,” I muttered, knowing I wouldn’t win this discussion with him. “I’ll be careful and I’ll be home before dark.”

  He studied me for a long moment, then nodded, swallowing whatever else he wanted to say. As I stepped outside, I called back over my shoulder, voice sharp with defiance:

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  “He’s a good man. He would never let anything happen to me.”

  I closed the door behind me. And despite my certainty, something in my chest tightened as the forest swallowed my path. Would he really protect me?

  ? ? ?

  Those words echoed in my skull as the world collapsed beneath us. Azren’s arms were locked around me. Wind tore at my breath, my stomach twisting violently as we plunged into darkness.

  He would protect me.

  He had to.

  Right?

  The water rushed up too fast to think. Impact stole the air from my lungs as Azren hit first, dragging me under with him. Cold, murky water flooded my ears, my nose, my mouth. I thrashed, panic clawing its way up my throat, my lungs burning as I fought against Azren’s grip.

  I need air!

  Strong arms shifted and locked around my waist. He kicked and pulled me with him. Light shimmered above us and we broke the surface with a violent gasp. I clung to him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.

  “I—I can’t swim!” I cried, terror unravelling me.

  “Azren—!”

  “I’ve got you,” he said beside me, voice strained. “Stop fighting.”

  But the words didn’t land. Panic filled thoughts swirled in my mind. I kicked blindly until my feet struck something solid. Muddy ground. He hauled us both forward, half-dragging, half-carrying me until we collapsed onto land.

  I lay there, gasping, soaked and shaking, mud plastered to my skin and clothes. Distance. I needed distance from the water. I crawled even further until not even the tips of my feet were near the water’s edge. Only then did my body relax.

  “Are you done panicking, mud monster?” Azren’s voice came from behind me, low and edged with exhaustion.

  “Yes,” I croaked. “No more panic.”

  “Good. Because I’m about to lose my mind.” He spun, eyes wild. “Where is Hazel?”

  My heart dropped. He plunged back toward the water, shoving aside long strands of green vegetation, shouting her name until his voice cracked.

  “HAZEL!”

  The swamp stretched endlessly around us; grey water, green sludge and skeletal bushes clawing out of the mire. The air stank of rot and sulfur.

  No answer.

  “Hazel…” His knees hit the mud. His fists clenched. I knelt beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Az…”

  “She’s gone, isn’t she?” he whispered.

  “We don’t know that,” I said softly. “The portal could’ve thrown her somewhere else.”

  “I failed her.”

  The words tore through me. I wrapped my arms around him, holding his shaking body as he cried, mud streaking his face.

  “You couldn’t have stopped it from happening,” I murmured. “That magic was broken. Twisted.”

  He looked at me with watery eyes, jaw tight. I wanted to kiss the pain away. I wanted to promise everything would be alright. But that would ruin the friendship, so instead I gave him a weak smile.

  “Let’s just assume she was thrown elsewhere in this realm and we’re going to find her,” I said.

  “But what if she drowned? She can’t swim either,” he answered, looking at the murky water. I followed his gaze at the now still surface of the lake we fell into.

  “If that were the case, wouldn’t we see her body float somewhere?”

  “Yes, but what if it takes time for a body to come back to the surface,” he answered, his voice quivering.

  “Or maybe she was thrown elsewhere like I said. Let’s not make hasty assumptions. And let’s not get beaten by the what-ifs, alright?” I responded, squeezing his arm softly. He nibbled on his lower lip, his gaze still searching the surface but then gave a resolute nod.

  “Come on, Az. Let’s go find her. Together.” I stood up, offering him my hand. “We’re not giving up.”

  “Okay,” he whispered and took my hand. I pulled him up. He towered over me. Mud clinging to his face that showed emerald eyes aching with loss. I recognized that pain. I carried it myself after I lost Mother. Could a man really be evil if he felt this kind of grief and guilt?

  I tried to wipe his face clean and failed miserably. His face was now even dirtier than before. He snorted, then smeared his muddy hand across my cheek.

  “Now we’re both mud monsters,” he grumbled.

  I laughed softly.

  “Perfect. We’ll blend right in with the other monsters.”

  A faint smile tugged at his lips as he took my arm, and together we walked deeper into the swamp.

  “I don’t know where we are,” Azren said quietly, scanning the endless mire, “but the Underworld has villages and roads. Eventually.”

  He glanced at me.

  “So we walk. Until we find one,” I answered.

  And so we did. We walked until my legs burned and the mud clung to my boots like it wanted to claim me. Time lost its meaning here. There was no sun to mark the hours. Only a blood-red moon suspended in a starless sky, casting a sickly glow across the swamp. No constellations. Not even a distant shimmer of the Mid Realm. Just darkness, wrapped tightly around this place like a suffocating veil.

  Even the magic felt wrong. In the Mid Realm, magic hummed. It was alive and electric, always tugging at the edges of my inner mind palace. Ready to be used. Here… nothing. The air was dull. Empty. As if magic itself had been drained dry, leaving behind only a fraction of its former strength.

  The world slowly dimmed further, though I couldn’t tell whether it was dusk or midnight. Soft noises crept through the reeds. Scampering and slithering away from us.

  Somewhere in the distance, a sudden scream tore through the air. High and piercing. Inhuman. It raised the hair on my arms and I yelped in surprise.

  “That sounded like a banshee. I’ve read about those,” Azren whispered.

  “Let’s not get near that,” I said. Azren nodded once, immediately steering us away from the sound without a word.

  After what felt like hours more, my limbs felt heavy and my stomach twisted in protest. The red moon had darkened, its light thinning like a dying ember. I stopped.

  “Az… we should rest.”

  He turned, exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Dark shadows rimmed his eyes and his lips were cracked and dry.

  “Yes,” he agreed softly. “There’s still no road. And I don’t think we’re close to one.”

  I spotted a large, half-sunken stone and dropped my bag beside it. Azren followed suit, kneeling and rummaging through his pack until he pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Bread. I grabbed it as a snack,” he said.

  My stomach answered before I could. His mouth curved into a tired smile.

  “Come on, then.”

  He sat down against the stone, and I joined him, accepting a piece of bread with grateful hands. I leaned my head against his shoulder as we ate in silence, the swamp oddly still around us.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, breaking the momentarily silence. I looked up at him.

  “For what?”

  His emerald eyes met mine, a smirk ghosting across his lips.

  “For jumping after me, you reckless little mud monster.”

  I laughed softly.

  “You would’ve done the same thing for me.”

  He rested his forehead against mine, our noses touching.

  “I would have. But still… I wouldn’t want anyone else beside me in this mess but you, little raven.”

  The nickname stirred something warm and familiar in my chest. He’d given it to me when he was still a boy, because of my dark hair, sharp eyes and tendency to hoard shiny things. I curled closer, smiling as my eyelids grew heavy. Another silence fell. This one was peaceful as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

  ? ? ?

  A sound dragged me back to wakefulness. Wet. Gurgling. Deliberate. My breath caught and I opened my eyes. Darkness had fully settled now. It was a suffocating darkness as if all the lights had been snuffed out. The red moon had nearly vanished, leaving only shadows and mist. The soft splashing sound came again.

  My gaze snapped toward the water. Something was crawling out of it. My gaze shifted to the sound and my eyes widened. An elongated shape pulled itself from the swamp, multiple arms sinking into the mud as it moved. Long, dark hair clung to its body, veiling its face except for the grin.

  A wide, bloody grin. Too wide. Rows of pointed teeth glistened through the strands. Cold dread flooded my veins. My breath hitched as I clutched Azren’s arm, squeezing hard. His eyes snapped open.

  “What—” he started.

  I pointed. He stiffened beside me. Then the creature screamed. A deafening, soul-rending shriek that shattered the night. And whatever fragile sense of safety we had left was gone.