The darklands

Chapter 46: Into the darklands

The first rays of dawn light fell upon us, pale and uncertain beneath the thinning canopy. As usual, Entinos was already awake. He stood at the edge of our makeshift camp, arms crossed over his chest, posture rigid and alert as he kept silent vigil over the land stretching far beyond the trees.

I approached him while the others began to stir and prepare to lift camp. The dark shape on the horizon was impossible to ignore. “You look more thoughtful than usual,” I said quietly.

He let out a small chuckle without turning to face me. “Up ahead,” he said, lifting his chin slightly, “do you see that land beneath the dark, unnatural cloud? The one that never seems to move?”

I followed his gaze. Even in the growing light of dawn, the sky above that place remained bruised and heavy, as if the sun itself refused to touch it.

I nodded. “Yeah. Is that what your people call the Darklands?”

“Indeed,” he replied, his tone hardening. There was something different in his eyes now, not fear, but old familiarity.

“Why is it called that?” I asked. I wanted to understand. More than that, I needed to.

Entinos inhaled slowly. “Bear in mind, I am no cheqae. Some details may be imperfect, shaped by memory and myth.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Long ago, two warlocks fought over that territory. Their towers stood tall and proud, facing one another like spears driven into the earth.”

As he spoke, my eyes drifted back to the distant silhouette barely visible through the mist.

“One of them prayed to the Titan Khaos,” Entinos continued. “And Khaos answered. His magic spread like an infection, not fire or storm, but dominion itself. A hunger to conquer, to twist, to claim. The other warlock…” He shook his head. “How he reached Ares is beyond my knowing, but the god of war granted him the tools he needed for his own machinations.”

I felt a faint tightening in my chest.

“Their power grew. So did their envy. And eventually, neither was content with half the land. They sought all of it.” Entinos’ voice lowered. “The war lasted years. The earth cracked beneath them. Satyrs, men, beasts, all were consumed by it. Screams echoed across the plains long after the battles ended, as if the land itself remembered them.”

My fingers curled slightly at my side. Power. Gods. Chosen tools.

I knew that path far too well.

“In the end,” he said, “only two remained.”

“The warlocks,” I murmured.

He nodded. “Knowing he was losing, the warlock of Khaos unleashed a final spell, not meant to win, but to deny.” Entinos’ gaze darkened. “The clash was catastrophic. The sky blackened permanently. The land shattered. And Khaos’ magic did not fade when the warlock died. It seeped into the soil, into the air, into the bones of the world itself.”

I imagined it then; the ground splitting, the sky dimming, life recoiling.

“The flora never recovered,” he continued. “Nothing grows as it should. A dark mist clings to the land endlessly, poisoned by Khaos’ influence. The screams faded eventually, but the silence that replaced them was worse.” He exhaled slowly. “All that remains now is ****… and the tower. A scar left behind to remind the world what unchecked power becomes.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I felt it then, not fear of the place, but recognition. Vod’s hunger. The Taedaz ritual. The way power twisted intent until conquest felt righteous.
“You’re not telling me this story just to teach history,” I said finally. “You’re warning me.” Entinos turned to look at me. “You’re reminding me that power and ambition, when left unchecked, rot everything they touch,” I continued. “I know the burden I carry. I know what’s inside me, this raw power of the gods.” My voice steadied as I spoke. “It’s a blessing… but it can just as easily become a curse.”

I met his gaze fully now.

“I won’t allow that,” I said. “I will use it to protect what I hold dear. I will not become the reaper of this story.”

A slow, proud smirk crossed Entinos’ face. “That,” he said, “is all I needed to hear.”

I hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before continuing. “Entinos,” I said, my tone sharpening. “Noor once asked me something. She asked me to put her down if her magic ever corrupted her.” I swallowed. “I want you to do the same for me.” His smirk vanished.

“If I ever lose myself,” I said quietly, “if I become what the Erebosians are… what Vod wants to become as Taedaz… then I need you to stop me.”

The words were not bravado. They were fear given shape. Fear tempered into resolve.

Entinos took a step back, genuinely shocked. He studied my face as if searching for doubt and finding none. After a long moment, he nodded once, solemn and heavy.
“Then I will,” he said. “And may the gods have mercy on us both if that day ever comes.”

The leaves at the edge of the clearing stirred unnaturally, parting as Dryon and Nixia emerged from the forest. There was no hesitation in his stride now, no uncertainty. His decision had been made.

The group instinctively gathered near the Stonehenge, ancient runes watching us in silent witness as the Rhaadkat leader approached. Dryon stopped before us and raised a clenched fist to his chest in salute.

“Well met, Chosen,” he said. His voice carried authority, steady and unyielding. “A decision has been made.”
The air seemed to tighten around us, the forest holding its breath.

“We will join you in your fight,” Dryon continued. “Not for your mission alone, but for the balance of this world.” His eyes hardened. “Vod cannot be allowed to become the Taedaz. I will not permit it.”

A collective breath escaped the group. Relief washed through us in different ways; Ikaro’s shoulders loosened, Iris let out a quiet exhale, and Entinos wore a proud, almost reverent smirk at his leader’s resolve.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “We will help you in any way we can.”

Dryon raised a hand, motioning for calm. “I will gather as many warriors as I am able. By the second dawn from today, we will march on Egosea and dethrone the usurper.” He turned his gaze to me. “In the meantime, you will go to the Darklands, as promised, and uncover the truth. Find Chiron.”

My relief shattered instantly. “Only two days?” I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “We don’t even know where to begin in the Darklands. We need more time.” A murmur rippled through the group. The weight of it settled in, two days to unravel a curse centuries old. Two days before Vod completed the ritual.

Dryon’s expression softened, just slightly. “I wish I could give you more,” he said, his voice low and somber. “Or march with you myself. But my spies in Egosea have confirmed it, the ritual begins on the third day.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “Our hands are tied,” he finished. “And Cronos…” His gaze lifted briefly toward the sky. “Cronos is not on our side, Chosen. Time itself will not wait for us.”

A cold realization settled in my chest. No room for mistakes. No second chances.

I let out a deep breath. “Then we’ll move fast,” I said. “We’ll get our hands dirty if we have to.”

A slow, approving smile crossed Dryon’s face. He stepped forward, and we clasped forearms, sealing the alliance.

“I would expect nothing less from a Chosen,” he said.

“If I may, Dryon,” Nixia spoke up. “I would like to accompany them. I know these lands, and it may serve you to have someone who can bear witness to what unfolds.”

Dryon nodded once. “Objections?”

“Can you fight?” Ikaro asked bluntly.

Nixia laughed. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Good enough for me,” Ikaro said as Aerys nodded in agreement.

“Fine by me,” Noor added with a casual shrug.

“We’ll need a guide,” Iris said with a welcoming smile. “Might as well let her tag along.”

I looked to Nixia and nodded. “Then welcome aboard.”

Dryon turned back toward the forest, already preparing for war. Before disappearing into the trees, he spoke one last time, his voice carrying with it both hope and warning.

“Remember,” he said. “Find Chiron. He is our only hope.”

The forest closed behind him.

And the clock began to run.

---

We entered the Darklands at a hard pace, horses urged forward as Nixia led the way. The moment we crossed the invisible threshold, the world changed.
Fog rolled in thick and low, clinging to the ground like a living thing. The sun vanished behind layers of dark, unnatural clouds; its light smothered rather than blocked. It wasn’t night, but it felt worse. As if the land itself refused to acknowledge the sky.

The air grew heavy in my lungs, metallic and stale, every breath tasting faintly of rust and ash. Sound behaved strangely here; hoofbeats muffled too quickly, voices carrying only a few feet before dying into the mist. Even the wind felt hesitant, whispering instead of blowing.

Our horses knew something was wrong.

They snorted nervously, ears pinned back, hooves striking the earth with **** steps. One of them whinnied sharply, refusing to move until Nixia murmured something low and calming in her tongue.

Ahead of us lay the scars Entinos had spoken of.

Ikaro let out a low whistle as the fog thinned just enough to reveal a massive crater carved into the land, its edges jagged as if the earth itself had been torn open. Rising from its centre stood the tower, or what remained of it.

The structure loomed against the dark sky, its stone blackened and warped, yet still standing despite centuries of abandonment and a war that should have erased it from existence. The tower felt wrong, less like a ruin and more like a wound that never healed.

“Well,” Ikaro muttered, breaking the silence, “that’s a view you don’t see every day.”

“And not a pretty one in the slightest,” Iris replied, her voice tight. “This place is giving me the chills.”

Orion circled above us once before dropping down to Aerys’s arm, feathers ruffled, his usual sharp focus replaced with agitation. He squawked uneasily, head twitching toward the fog.

“Well,” Aerys said, frowning, “Ori’s having trouble giving us anything useful.”

I watched the eagle closely. Even his magic felt…Muted.

“Send him back to the Stonehenge,” I said after a moment. “This fog’s scrambling everything. He won’t be able to scout properly, and I don’t want him anywhere near whatever’s nesting here.”

Aerys hesitated, clearly ****, then nodded. She whispered a command, and Orion launched himself skyward, disappearing into the gray veil.

“Where do we start?” Iris asked, turning to Nixia.

The satyr crouched, studying the land. “According to the last reports, Chiron’s group entered through the south, same as us. But then they veered east, toward the old temples. They believed a desecration might be the source of the corruption.”

“Makes sense,” Entinos said grimly. “Though I doubt the gods are responsible. Unless the Erebosians have found a way to involve the Olympians. I don’t think such treachery would be allow to let pass blindly.”

Ikaro crossed his arms. “How can we be sure the Erebosians are even behind this? Maybe the gods are angry. Maybe the balance is shifting.”

“No,” I said firmly. “That doesn’t fit. The gods wouldn’t poison the land this way, especially not the satyrs. Athena would have warned us.”

Noor hadn’t said a word.

She was crouched near a broken ridge, eyes fixed on the tower. Her brow was furrowed, fingers pressed lightly against the ground. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and certain.

“Maybe it’s the undead entering the tower right now,” she said. “Carrying bodies and ingredients.” She glanced back at us. “Just a theory.”
We moved closer, following her line of sight.

Through the fog, shapes emerged, shambling figures of legionaries, hauling sacks and corpses toward the tower’s entrance. Their movements unnatural but familiar to this cursed land.

Ikaro exhaled slowly, defeated. “…Yeah. An Erebosian is here.”

“Alright. Plan change,” I said, my gaze fixed on the tower looming in the distance. “We’re getting inside that thing. I’d bet my life Chiron is there.”
The words settled over the group. No one argued, only a few determined nods answered me.

“Worst case scenario,” Nixia added as she rolled her shoulders, already bracing for what was to come, “we get answers.”

“Hold on.” Iris stepped forward; arms crossed. “You’re not seriously thinking of rushing straight inside like nothing’s waiting for us in there, are you? Because that would be stupid. At best.”

Noor tilted her head in agreement. “She’s right. We don’t know what’s inside, how many undead, how many Erebosians, or what kind of horrors they’ve stuffed into that tower over the centuries.”

“Well, any bright ideas?” Ikaro asked, hands on his hips. “Because I don’t think the traveling merchant routine will work this time. I’m fairly sure they’d rather eat us than trade with us.”

“I don’t know, cousin,” Aerys said lightly. “I think they’d throw a banquet just for you. Maybe we could trade you for entrance.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Ikaro replied flatly. Then he frowned, a spark of thought crossing his face. “Although… we could make a distraction… No. That’d be suicidal. Forget it.”
Entinos studied him for a moment. “You don’t usually abandon ideas that fast. Care to share?”

Ikaro sighed. “Alright. We lure some of them outside. Make enough noise, enough chaos, that a smaller group can slip inside the tower and search for Chiron.”
Silence followed.

“…Okay,” I said slowly. “I see why you almost dismissed that.” I glanced at the tower again. “But honestly? We don’t have many options. We can’t talk our way in, and the moment an Erebosian lays eyes on me, everything goes sideways. A distraction might be our only chance.”

“We’d need our best fighters outside,” Iris said, already piecing it together. “Make it look like we were sent here for a full-on battle.” She exhaled. “If we play it right… it could work.”

“And if we don’t,” Entinos added evenly, “the distraction group takes the full brunt of it.” No one missed the weight of that. “I don’t think some of us will have much choice about which group we’re in,” Entinos continued. “Nixia, up for a fight?”

The satyr woman grinned. “Always.”

“I’ll go with them,” Aerys said, cracking her knuckles. “I’m more useful in the thick of it. Besides, it sounds like my kind of fun.”

“Then I’ll lead the distraction,” Ikaro said, standing a little straighter. “Draw them out, keep them busy.”
That settled it.

Before anyone could move, Noor raised a hand. “Wait. Hold still.”

She stepped up to Ikaro and placed both hands on his head.

“What—”

Pain flared behind his eyes, sharp and sudden. It lasted only a heartbeat before vanishing.

“The fuck?” Ikaro snapped.

“There,” Noor said casually, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Now we’ll be able to communicate once you’re outside.”

“The fuck do you mean by that-” he started, then froze.

Sup, fool, Noor’s voice echoed inside his mind.

“What!? NO! ugh, that’s disgusting, get out!” Ikaro shouted, swatting the air uselessly.

I couldn’t help it, a quiet breath of amusement slipped out of me. Gods help him. The others stared.

“Uh… what’s his problem?” Iris asked.

“She’s talking to me in my head!” Ikaro yelled.

“Oh.” Iris blinked. “OH. I get it. Clever thinking, Noor.” Noor gave a small, proud gesture.

“Relax,” she said. “It’ll wear off in… I don’t know. A day? I think.”

“I do not want you in my head for an entire day!” Ikaro groaned, then paled. “WAIT. I CAN HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS! OH, BY ZEUS, DON’T YOU DARE THINKING ABOUT KAYN LIKE THAT!”

For the first time since this journey began, genuine fear crept into his voice.

Aerys burst out laughing. Iris giggled beside her.

“As if,” Noor replied sweetly. "Though now that you mention it…" Ikaro’s eyes widened. He wisely chose silence on what he heard on his mind.

“I don’t understand,” Nixia whispered to Entinos. “Isn’t he the lover of the Spartan woman?”

“Yes,” Entinos replied calmly.

“And the Persian woman as well?”

“…Also, yes.”

She laughed softly. “I see why you like this Gipkuh. They are entertaining.”

Entinos didn’t answer, but the smirk said enough.

After getting ready and prepared we reviewed the plan again and headed down the hill to approach what could only be described as a tower of darkness.